I'm Rachel, and welcome to my humble abode. It's hopefully a lovely place where one-shots are written and requests are open. I'm not afraid of crazy crossovers or alternate universes. Keep it clean, if you don't mind. Masterlist
Hi, do you think you could possibly write a Phil Coulson x reader soulmate au (red string of fate if possible) where reader is assigned to his team by fury and it's when they realize that they are soulmates and it's really fluffy?
Thank you if so and no worries at all if not!
Oh goodness hello sorry
You may have figured this out haha but I am not active here anymore 😅 I’ve kind of moved on from marvel not gonna lie. I don’t really know anyone else that’s active anymore either
(Also I physically cannot see Coulson as anything different from A Dad haha but that sounds super cute)
Sorry again and good luck! But honestly thank you for asking in the first place that makes me feel nice haha
Uhh hiiii I’m not sure if you’re currently taking requests but if you are I’d really appreciate some dad!coulson where his child comes out to him as trans and he’s just really supportive of his son. Idk my parents aren’t really supportive and Coulson has always been a huge comfort character for me. Also I am sending you good vibes because your work is amazing 😎✌🏻❤️
Hey oh my gosh I am so so so sorry I have no idea how long this has been sitting in my inbox
You’ve probably noticed by now that I’m not active here anymore and I’m really sorry but I don’t have plans of writing here again
If I remember right I’ve seen a blog somewhere around here that’s specifically dad!coulson x transboy!reader but for the life of me I cannot remember what it’s called
Thank you so much for the vibes and the compliment I send you the best of vibes as well ☺️
6. "I don't need you to protect me."
8. "No one's going to hurt you, okay?"
38. "You shouldn't be here."
Pietro Maximoff x Reader
Thanks to SaphireEyedJiuweihu for requesting!
Info about prompts here
You heard quiet voices outside of your door. Strange's voice was easy to pick out, but you couldn't identify the other man speaking.
"Be gentle," Strange said.
There was a pause before a soft knock came at your door. You still couldn't recognize whoever was on the other side.
"Come in," you permitted cautiously.
He opened the door and stepped halfway into your room. "So you're Luna's Shadow?" he asked, taking you in.
Now you recognized him, and he was impossible.
"You shouldn't be here," you blurted.
"I'm sorry?" he apologized. "I can leave, if that's what you--"
"No, as in you shouldn't be alive." You stood up quickly and walked past him to the door, calling for your mentor. "Strange, what did I do?!"
"Hey, listen, I am just as confused as you are," the young man told you, stopping you from exiting the room with a hand on your shoulder.
You flinched from the contact and crossed your arms in front of you out of instinct.
"I'm sorry," he apologized again, backing off. "I'm just looking for answers."
"Pietro Maximoff, I cried real tears over you," you stated.
"Have we met?"
"No, but that doesn't mean I don't know who you are."
"You're scaring me just a bit."
"She has that effect, yes," Strange agreed. "But that's just until you know why she's like she is."
"Strange, I don't--"
"He is owed an explanation, (Y/N)."
"And I'm not?"
"He doesn't know how he's here, either."
Both Pietro and Strange looked at you silently and you realized what they were implying.
"You think I brought him back?" you gasped. "But I didn't even bring myself here. How can that be possible?"
"Let's sit down and talk a bit," Strange suggested calmly, placing one hand on Pietro's shoulder and one hovering a few inches above yours.
--
You sat in the waiting room of the New York Sanctum, crosslegged in the corner of your favorite couch. You sipped on a mug of hot chocolate, mostly using it to warm your hands.
"Are we all comfortable?" Strange asked both of you, sitting in his chair and setting a glass of water down on the coffee table.
Pietro snuck a glance at you, and you couldn't tell if he was concerned for or about you. "I am," he said.
"Me too," you agreed.
"Wonderful. Where do we start?"
"You know I don't like talking about this," you reminded Strange.
"But he has the right to know."
"I know, but I don't know how to explain it in the first place."
"How about we start with you," Pietro said. "All I was told was that you are Luna's Shadow. I remember rumors about you from when I was with Hydra."
"I'm (Y/N). Don't call me Luna," you spat.
"I also remember rumors of what they were doing to create you. I can see that they eventually succeeded."
"I don't like talking about it," you warned.
"How much of it are just rumors?"
"I said I don't like talking about it!" you exclaimed, standing up and arming yourself with your sorcery.
Unlike Strange's glowing orange magic, you were equipped with dark strands of power that seemed to suck the light from around it.
"Back down, Maximoff," Strange cautioned.
"I don't need you to protect me," you snarled.
"I just want to know how I'm here!" Pietro argued.
"I want to know the same thing, don't you get it?"
"(Y/N), no one's going to hurt you, okay?"
"You're absolutely correct," you agreed, flashing your powers again. "I won't let them."
"(Y/N)," Strange demanded, grabbing your arm firmly.
You glared up at him defiantly, black creeping into the edges of your eyes. "Don't touch--"
He placed two fingers on your forehead and your posture relaxed immediately. The black disappeared from your eyes and left them blank and unfocused. You blinked once, twice, then shuffled back to your couch where you curled up and fell asleep.
"The longer she stays in this reality, the more unstable she becomes," he explained to a frightened-looking Pietro.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"(Y/N) was pulled into this reality from her own by experiments on old Tesseract technology. She knows us as fictional characters and therefore knows way too much about us."
"Where did the powers come from?"
"We're not sure, and we clearly don't know their extent," Strange sighed, gesturing to Pietro. "All we truly know is that we need to get her back home."
This is for @pparkerwrites ‘s 5k writing challenge! It’s been a really rough semester so it was nice to get back into writing after all of that. Enjoy!
Also here’s Approved.
"We can get her back."
"You don't understand, I left her!"
"She knew what she was doing, Parker. She told you to get out of there--"
"That shouldn't have mattered!" Peter huffed, his anxiety apparent in his posture. He was curling up into himself, his hands furled around each other close to his face. "It was my responsibility to keep her safe, and I failed."
"Kid, come on," Steve said, placing a steady hand on the boy's shoulder. "Give my daughter some credit here. She told you to leave her there for a reason."
"I--no, I was the senior agent," he argued. "I could have--I should have--"
"You don't work that way," Sam reminded him. "You've never been a commander and a unit, you're a team."
"And if one of you does have to take charge, it's almost always (Y/N)," Natasha added. "It's doubtful that she would have taken no for an answer."
"She knows what she's doing better than you do anyway, punk," Bucky pointed out.
"Hey, I thought I was punk," Steve complained.
"Your daughter is trapped alone at a Hydra base and you're more worried about a nickname?" Peter questioned incredulously.
"Peter, you need to chill out," Tony said.
"Chill out? I'm the only one thinking rationally here!" he exclaimed, standing up rapidly. "She's alone and we don't even know if she's okay! Our comms are jammed, so we don't have a way to communicate with her, and the last time I saw her, we were being attacked by so many people that I couldn't even see her! Why don't you all--" Peter's breath hitched-- "Why can't you--" he fought back tears as he continued to work himself up.
"Peter?" Steve prompted.
"Why wasn't I enough?" he agonized.
The boy fell back into his chair and buried his face in his hands. Shrinking into himself once more, he fought to control his breathing as his emotions became overwhelming. Never before had he failed like this. The one person he had promised to protect with his life he had left alone, and why? Because she had promised the same thing to him. She was stronger than him; she hadn't backed out of her promise.
Above all else, Peter felt weak.
Peter felt weak and incapable and ashamed for having left. All he wanted was for you to hold him in your tight embrace so that he could know that you were all right, but that couldn't happen because he had abandoned you. Why didn't he stay? Why wasn't he capable of taking you with him?
"Why wasn't I enough?" he whispered again.
Steve reached out to put a hand on Peter's shoulder to try to comfort him, but Peter recoiled as if Steve's touch were caustic.
"You don't get it, Captain Rogers, I left—" Peter stuttered— "I left your daughter because I wasn't strong enough to get her out with me."
"I'm not blaming you."
"You don't get it!" he repeated angrily, meeting Steve's eyes. Peter's shone with tears ready to spill over. "You weren't there."
"Walk us through," Bruce requested. "What would we have seen if we were there?"
"What happened to make her feel like she needed to tell you to leave?" Natasha added.
Peter took a breath to stabilize himself, swiping his arm over his face. "We were stormed by at least twenty men twice our size," he related.
"Those are bad odds," Steve sighed.
"But we're Avengers," Peter argued. "Everything we do is based on bad odds."
"We're adults that have built our lives on beating the odds, but you're just kids with barely more than a couple of years of experience. It's okay not to be perfect."
"We still make mistakes sometimes," Sam added. "Not to mention that we all know to listen to (Y/N) Rogers of all people when she tells us to do something."
"Don't hold yourself accountable for this. You did your best, and that's what matters," Natasha said.
"Let the kid tell his story," Tony complained. "You're interrupting him every three seconds to try to make him feel better."
"For the record, it's kind of working," Peter shrugged.
"Keep going," he prompted.
"Right. Well, um, the first thing they did was to separate us. If I had been able to stay with her, we would have been able to beat them without a whole lot of issue."
"Synergy," Bruce interjected.
"But I let myself be separated from her. We were pushed into corners, plus they were airing some kind of static over the comms so that we couldn't communicate at all."
"That's really smart but really scary to think about," Natasha worried. "You two are practically undefeatable when you're working together. You're a better team than Steve and Bucky."
"I've watched you two kick their butts enough times to confirm," Sam snarked.
"So when did you decide to leave, Peter?" Steve interjected suddenly, turning a little pink in the cheeks.
"When she told me to," he answered. "The static on the comms let up, and she told me to get out. Wouldn't even let me argue."
"What did she say exactly?"
"Oh, I have the transcript," Bruce offered. "(Y/N) told him, quite articulately, I might add, 'Get your cute little butt out of here before I make you, Parker.'"
Snickers rose up from around the room. Even when you weren't here, you were still able to add the perfect touch of comic relief when it was needed.
"Where did she get her sense of humor?" Sam asked Natasha quietly. "Not her parents, that's for sure."
"Her uncles, I think. Probably you and Barton for the most part," she answered, smirking.
"She said more after that, didn't she?" Peter asked Bruce.
"Ah, yeah, she did. After you tried to argue for a second, she said, 'Tell my dad I'm sorry, but tell him that he knows I can hold my own, too. Don't take too long coming back, 'kay?'"
"I'm not the one she needed to convince of that. She knows that I trust her," Steve said. "I thought you did, too, Parker. When did that change?"
"I--I don't--" The question caught Peter off-guard. "It's not (Y/N) I don't trust. I know that every decision she makes is the right one for the situation."
"Then what has you so worked up?"
"The whole situation!" he exclaimed. "It's so frustrating that she had to make the decision that she did. I'm frustrated because I wasn't good enough to prevent it."
"None of us would have been," Steve said firmly. "There's not a single one of us that could have prevented this. You were the most likely if we're being perfectly honest."
"That does not make me feel better."
"Let's talk about extraction," Tony interrupted. "FRIDAY was able to connect to (Y/N) for a second just now and it turns out she's fine as of now. She's been hiding in the vents this whole time."
"Another thing she picked up from Barton," Sam snickered.
"Unfortunately, we don't know exactly where she is except for the second floor. That's all we have to go on," he continued. "Who's up for the mission?"
"I'd like to volunteer Peter," Steve said.
"I'll second that," Natasha said. Most everyone else nodded in agreement. "Who do you want to take as backup?"
"Hold on, I didn't agree to this--"
"Too bad," she dismissed. "We can have a spider-people mission."
"Or a bug-people mission," Scott volunteered, speaking up for the first time.
"Um, how about..." Peter looked around the room, pushing down his self-doubt. "Cap? Do you want to come with me?"
Steve clapped a hand on Peter's shoulder. "I'd be honored."
Tag List: @shamvictoria11 @cookies186 @sweeneytoddler @shuriwithparker
You know how it goes, but I'll restate the rules just in case:
You can request up to 3 prompts per one-shot. All you have to do is give me the numbers, who you want it written with, and perhaps the general tone that you're hoping for.
I can’t believe I’ve reached 5K already! I firstly wanted to thank all of you for the lovely comments/notes/reblogs/messages/etc over the past two years or so that I’ve been writing fic on this site. every single one made my day and I appreciate and love every follower I’ve gained, and friends I’ve made since I started writing on here! since this is a major milestone I wanted to do a celebration of sorts - a writing challenge and a blurb week! here’s the writing challenge post.
writing challenge:
you can pick from the list of prompts, with any mcu character/actor you choose. the prompt can be used by up to two people! I’ll edit this post when someone asks to use a prompt just so everyone knows which ones are taken! all entries will be reblogged by me and put on a masterlist, later to be linked on my page. please come to me if you have any questions :)
follow these rules:
- please reblog this! following is not necessary
- characters from the mcu and actors for the mcu are for this challenge only! you can do reader insert or for characters you can do a pairing (peter x mj, for example)
- send me an ask with the number of the prompt you want (only one prompt), and the character(s)/person you will be writing for! only two people per prompt, and I will update this with what’s taken and who it’s taken by! if it only has one person’s url next to the prompt, you can still use it too! first come, first serve
- any au’s are welcome - you can use an au or keep it normal, and you can make it as angsty/fluffy as you want, as long as you use the prompt! you can make this into a series as well if you wish
- no incest, non-consensual, or large age gap fics (this means absolutely no st*rker, no th*rki, etc)
- no word count limit, but please put a “keep reading” if your fic exceeds 500 words!
- make sure to put a warning for triggers and/or smut if necessary (please don’t write smut for minors or if you yourself are a minor)
- deadline for requesting a prompt is july 9th, or when all prompts are taken. there is no deadline for writing your fic, but please try to have it in by the end of july!
- tag your entry #pparkerwriteswritingchallenge so I can find it - if I haven’t reblogged it within a week of you posting, shoot me an ask/message to make sure I see it!
- I will reblog every entry and add them to another separate masterlist once entries start coming in!
- prompts below cut
dad!Phil Coulson x Reader
Assumed female reader
Word Count: 1440
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-O2Lbmwuyyc
I love realizing that I'm not the only one that absolutely loves Baby Coulson so huge thanks to all y'all out there that love her with me. This one goes out to Wattpad user berryninjago who introduced me to the song Agent Coulson by the Doubleclicks and like?? Guys. We all need that song.
Also! I'm going to be at FanX in Salt Lake City on Friday, April 19th. If anyone else will be there that day, please say hi! You can DM me for details if you want. I'd love to meet y'all!
"You're doing that thing again, Coulson," Fury said, snapping you out of your thoughts.
"That thing?" you asked. "Do clarify."
"The exact same thing you did after New York."
"And that is?"
"Don't play dumb when it comes to ignoring your mental health," Maria chastized you. "You're not subtle about it."
"Well, I'm sorry that I have resting depression face," you scoffed.
"You didn't have resting depression face before you were depressed," Fury said pointedly.
You stared him down, and he stared right back, his eyebrows raised.
"I may very well regret telling you this, but you, (Y/N) Coulson, are one of the few people that I trust," Fury admitted. "It'd certainly be nice if you'd do the same."
"You know, funny thing—I did trust you, and then you died, too," you snapped.
"Too?" Maria pressed.
"Everyone I care about always ends up leaving. They die, or almost die and come back different and distant and cold. I'm just sick of this, and I can't deal with it anymore," you vented. "I'm done losing people."
"Aren't we all?" she chuckled sadly. "It wasn't like this before, losing friends left and right."
"Either to death or betrayal," you added bitterly. "I don't feel like I can trust anyone anymore, not after all of this 'Real SHIELD' crap Bobbi and Mack are pulling."
"Really can't even trust us?" Fury asked, a solemn and humble air to his voice.
You looked back and forth between him and Maria before taking a breath and giving your answer. "I want to, but I can never tell what else you're hiding from me."
"You used to be okay with that," he said.
"That was when SHIELD's secrets were still affordable," you shot back. "I don't know exactly how separated you two are from SHIELD, but secrets are tearing us apart right now."
"I realize it was idealistic of me to think that SHIELD could recover from this," he sighed.
"I thought it could, too," you admitted. "But this is coming from a twenty-two-year-old girl that's spent her whole life with SHIELD. I don't think I can imagine my world going on without it, and that's my problem."
"Does your father know that you feel like this?" Maria inquired.
You stared down at your boots, hating yourself for the answer you were about to give.
"No."
Neither Fury nor Maria had a reply. Phil and (Y/N) Coulson were the father-daughter duo that they knew for their honesty and near inability to keep anything from the other. For you to keep your depression and borderline identity crisis from him, you couldn't have been in anywhere close to your right mind.
"I feel like I can't tell anyone anything anymore," you said, choking on your words. "Everyone else is going through so much right now, and I shouldn't burden them with my feelings, too."
"Don't lie to yourself. Your feelings are just as important as theirs," Maria stated with conviction. "If they confide in you, then you can confide in them."
"But they don't confide in me! They haven't done that since my boyfriend died. They keep saying that I can talk to them, but I just can't do that. I have this stupid, ridiculous sense of pride that I have to keep up for no reason, and I can't even drop it around my own father anymore!"
You felt tears starting to sting your eyes after you finally admitted what you'd been keeping inside for so long. In an attempt to keep them from spilling over, you laughed.
"Who knew that Nick Fury and Maria Hill would just end up trying to help a kid with her mental health?" you chuckled, a bitter edge to your voice. "I know for a fact that you both have better things to do."
"Not when that kid is one of Earth's strongest defenders. I have nothing better to do," Fury countered. "You're an Avenger, (Y/N) Coulson. You're the only SHIELD agent that can still say that."
"When we get to Sokovia, your voice might the only real voice of hope they've heard during this whole ordeal," Maria added.
"Who, the citizens?"
"The Avengers."
--
You noticed the Maximoff girl sitting by herself on the trip down to safety. No tears trailed down her cheeks, but you could see the pain she was feeling in both her face and her posture. She sat with her legs drawn up to her chest, her face resting on her knees. The body of her brother rested a few feet away from her, but no one could bring themselves to look at him.
You recognized her posture as your own. She was lost, and she saw no one that could guide her.
"I wish I knew how to help her, too," a sudden voice came from next to you, disturbing your thoughts.
"Everything I can think to say sounds like everything I hated people telling me when I lost my father," you said, not bothering to turn to face the man belonging to the voice, instead favoring your boots. "I'm not exactly the poster-child for grieving, though."
"How would you define a poster-child for grieving?" he asked with a hint of amusement.
"Probably as someone that doesn't get stuck between anger and depression for years."
You finally turned to look up at Steve Rogers to find his piercing blue gaze meeting yours unwaveringly. Despite the dirt and sweat on his face, his expression was soft and open, ready to listen. His arms rested on his knees, and he really just looked like a concerned mom.
Despite yourself, you smiled and looked back down at your boots. "You don't look like you've had the best day, Cap," you jived.
"Really? Imagine that," he wondered sarcastically. "You'd think I'd look just fine after punching murderbots all day."
"Oh, you still look plenty fine," you teased him with a sly smirk. "Tired and done? Kinda dirty and gross? Undoubtedly. But you're still pretty easy on the eyes."
"I could say the same thing about you. Funny, though—you were only punching murderbots for five minutes and you look about the same as I do."
You raised your eyebrows. "So that's how it is, huh?"
"Oh, that's how it is."
"And I thought you were supposed to be made of chivalry or something like that."
"What do you call catching you when the city started falling?"
"Common sense?" you answered, a little bewildered. "I would have done the same for you, no chivalry necessary."
"Even though my weight would have pulled you down with me?"
"Wouldn't have even run through my mind," you admitted, shrugging. "Next thing I'd have known, I'd have been falling right above you without the slightest clue as to why."
"I'm glad that's not the way it happened, then," he laughed. "Can you even imagine what your father would say about that if that's how we died?"
You let out a real laugh for the first time since you'd lost Trip. "I honestly have no idea. I'll have to ask him," you chuckled. You caught your slip immediately and recovered before Steve noticed. "Add that to the list of things to ask my dad when I die."
"Not if I don't get to ask him first," he challenged you, relaxing in his seat.
"You're not seriously initiating a race to see who dies first, are you?"
"With all of the crazy stuff we get into, it might as well be, right?"
As he smiled at you, you finally felt like the world was stable for a second. You could ignore your problems and enjoy the moment with him. It was just you and Steve.
And Clint Barton.
"Hey, Cap, instead of flirting with the hired help, how about you help me over here?" Clint called to Steve.
"Hired help?" you scoffed. "Flirting?"
"Yeah, don't mind him," Steve said. "He's weird."
"You act like I haven't known him practically my whole life," you responded. "Weird is an understatement."
"And how about nosy?"
"Not usually," you remarked. "Maybe he's jealous that you might be getting action and he's not?"
He guffawed as he stood up. "You know he's married, right?"
"I'm sorry, he's what now?" you inquired, mildly offended. "Barton, how come I've never met the missus?"
"None of your business," he answered tartly.
"I'll give him that," you acknowledged to yourself. That's still kinda lame, though, you thought.
There was another secret someone was keeping from you. You scowled to yourself and told yourself not to think about it that way, but it was hard not to. It seemed that all your life was now was finding out retroactively about secrets that had been kept from you.
There were always more secrets.
More lies.
More betrayals.
Trust no one.
It's not like anyone trusts you anyway.
Tag List: @shamvictoria11 @cookies186 @sweeneytoddler @shuriwithparker
Modern AU!Peggy/Steve/Bucky x Reader
Assumed female reader
Word Count: 1473
This took me a heckin year and a half to write but here we are. This was inspired by this gifset by @beautifulwhensarcastic
"Steve, when you said a getaway weekend, I imagined something slightly different," Peggy said.
"Why?" Steve asked, totally oblivious. She squinted her eyes at him and he took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at her. "It's a really nice cottage, I swear!" he promised, but still missing the point. "Pepper helped me find it."
"Yes, well, there's still one detail," she hinted.
"Are we there yet?" Bucky piped up from the back seat.
"Does it look like we're there yet?" Peggy snapped.
"No, ma'am," he replied, snapping to attention at the tone of her voice. "Can I get an estimate of how much longer we'll be on the road?"
Steve glanced down at the car's GPS for an ETA. "We still have a couple more hours," he said. "Hang in there."
"How 'bout I just take a nap instead?" Bucky suggested. "You can pretend like I'm not even here."
Peggy mumbled something under her breath that only Steve caught. Judging from his slightly shocked reaction, Bucky guessed that he didn't want to know what she had said.
She stared determinedly out the window, watching the minimal scenery slowly creep up to the car, then pass it in a flash.
Gentle snoring came from the back seats in a matter of minutes, and Peggy finally felt free to speak her mind.
"This was supposed to be just us."
Steve sighed. "I know, and I'm sorry."
"You, know, I would have been okay with this if you had told me beforehand," she said, sounding slightly less angry as she looked out the window.
"I know that too."
"Then why wouldn't you tell me?"
"It was..." Steve ran a hand through his hair. "It was a last-minute decision."
"And you couldn't have run it by me?"
"Peggy, he found out where we were going an hour before we left and asked if he could tag along just for the drive," he explained quickly. "He won't be staying with us during the week."
"What interest does he have with a small town in Maine?" she asked. "And why would it have been so hard to tell me all of this beforehand instead of letting me be mad at him for no reason?"
"I don't know, Pegs. We're just a couple of stupid kids from Brooklyn."
"You can say that again," she snorted.
"We're just a couple of stupid kids from Brooklyn," he obliged, smirking.
"Steve," she laughed, thwapping his arm with the back of her hand.
"Ah, there she is," he said, smiling. "He found out that his sister lives in that small town. She reached out to him a little while ago, and he's been looking for an excuse to take a break and go see her."
Peggy sat still for a moment before speaking again. "Why do you always make things more complicated than they need to be? You could have told me, 'Hey, Peggy, Bucky's coming with us to see his sister,' and that would have been all that needed to be said."
"Peg--"
"But no! You had to tell me the moment that we left that Bucky was coming along for our trip to Maine with no more explanation."
"I'm sorry--"
"As you very well should be!"
--
Parked in front of Rebecca's house a few hours later, Steve and Peggy peered together at Bucky passed out on the back seat.
"I don't want to wake him up," Peggy whispered.
"Neither do I."
"We have to, though, don't we? We can't very well sit out here and wait."
"Yeah, Rebecca was expecting us a little earlier than we ended up getting here," he admitted. "I'm a little scared to wake him up, though. The last time I woke him up from a nap, I ended up with a black eye."
Peggy looked at him with raised eyebrows. "He punched you?"
Steve's cheeks turned pink. "Well, no..."
"How'd you end up with a black eye, then?" she asked, a smile growing on her face.
His blush deepened. "I--well, he--" He put his face in his hands. "Why did I bring this up?"
"I don't know, but you did. You have to tell me now." He began to protest, but she stopped him, saying, "You at least owe me this one story in apology for your lack of tact earlier today."
Steve peeked an eye up from behind his hands to look at Peggy and saw that she was absolutely serious. "He scared me and I punched myself," he mumbled.
"You what?" she laughed.
"When I woke him up, he made this horrible screeching sound, and it startled me. I punched myself on accident," he explained bashfully.
"Ah, the misadventures of tiny Steve," she sighed, laughing.
"It wasn't before the serum," he whispered, feeling morally obligated to correct her, but hoping she wouldn't hear. That idea failed.
"When was it, then?"
Just when Peggy thought he couldn't go redder, he somehow managed to. "Three weeks ago."
It was a wonder that Bucky hadn't woken up yet with the racket Peggy was making trying and failing not to laugh.
"You said that you had gotten hit sparring with someone," she said. "You were really that embarrassed?"
"I don't know, what does the color of my face tell you?"
"It tells me that my traumatized supersoldier won't be able to wake his best friend up for fear of hurting himself again."
"You're going to?"
"Watch and learn, Captain." She squared her shoulders and brought out a tone of voice that she only used when directing. "Sergeant Barnes, you're late," she scoffed simply.
Bucky sat up in an instant, suddenly wide awake with a look of wild panic in his eyes. "Yes, Agent Carter, ma'am, sorry, ma'am."
"That's quite alright, Sergeant," she forgave him, smirking. "At ease."
Bucky relaxed, staring groggily at his hands in his lap for a second. "Wait, what?" he mumbled. "Peggy, what the heck?"
"Couldn't resist," she answered, shrugging. "We're here."
"Yeah, yeah, but also why the heck?"
"Steve was scared to wake you up and I wasn't."
Bucky chuckled. "Didn't want to punch yourself again?"
Steve still hadn't recovered from his first round of blushing and was still a brilliant and surely before undiscovered shade of red. "We agreed not to talk about that," he said quietly.
"You asked me not to talk about that, and I just didn't have the opportunity until now," Bucky clarified.
"Let's just go inside," Steve resigned.
He popped the trunk so that Bucky could grab his suitcase, then stepped out of the car. As soon as everyone else was out and the doors were shut, he locked the car. Bucky closed the trunk and the three walked up Rebecca's driveway and up to her front door.
When Bucky hesitated to knock on the door, Peggy stepped up and knocked instead. "We can't have her waiting all day," she quipped.
A young woman answered the door and looked at Steve and Peggy with confusion, but that cleared once her eyes landed on Bucky. "Oh, you must be Rebecca's grandson," you said, offering him your hand to shake. "I'm (Y/N), her housemate of sorts."
"Ah, older brother actually," he corrected you, stepping forward to shake your hand with a newfound bit of pep in his step.
"Brother!" you exclaimed. "I guess that explains even better why you look so much like her. You kept your youth pretty well, didn't you?"
"You could certainly say that," he chuckled. "She, uh, didn't mention anything about a housemate."
You looked at him blankly for a moment. "Of course she didn't. That's just like her."
"Is her mind slipping?" Bucky asked.
"Oh, no, quite the opposite," you laughed. "She's still as sharp as a tack and getting sharper. She didn't mention to me that she was expecting guests."
It was Bucky's turn to look at you blankly as he began to realize Rebecca's intentions. "That is just like her, you're right. I can see she hasn't changed a bit since we were kids."
"Apparently not," you agreed. You then realized that you had been talking at the doorstep for too long. "Oh, you guys can come in. I'll go grab Rebecca." You opened the door wider and welcomed the three in. "Make yourselves at home," you invited.
While you left down the hall to look for Rebecca, she hobbled out of the kitchen on the opposite side of the entryway, looking a little sprightlier than the average near-one-hundred-year-old. "I see you met (Y/N)," she asked Bucky cheekily.
"Becca, I haven't seen you since the war, and the first thing you do is try to set me up?" Bucky asked.
"You're meant for each other," she responded, shrugging mischievously. "You'll see what I mean by the time this week is over."
"I see age hasn't changed you," he said, smiling.
"I would hope not," she replied, grinning.
The siblings embraced, and it really felt like nothing had changed between them.
--
After the week had passed, Steve and Peggy drove back to Rebecca's house to pick Bucky up. They stayed for about an hour, having lunch and chatting with you and Rebecca. Both Steve and Peggy caught onto something new in Bucky that hadn't been there before, something they recognized as what they had felt when they had started falling for each other all those years ago.
Once all the goodbyes were said and the three were all back in the car, Bucky's demeanor changed. "Becca was right," he said.
"About what?" Steve asked, exchanging an amused glance with Peggy.
"I think I'm in love."
Tag List: @shamvictoria11 @cookies186 @sweeneytoddler @shuriwithparker @imagine-assembling-the-avengers
"Please come home."
"Are you out of your mind?"
"I want to be happy here with you, but I just can't."
"Stop saying that."
"What are you doing here?"
Grant Ward x Reader
Alright, that's the last of them!
"(Y/N), please come home," Daisy pleaded with you over the comms. "He's a psychopath. There's no knowing what he could do to you."
"No. I'm too close to finishing this mission to quit now," you protested.
"It's not quitting if it's too dangerous to carry it out."
"It's not as dangerous as you're making it out to be. Why are you doubting me?"
"I'm not doubting you, I just don't--" she let out an exasperated sigh-- "I couldn't stand it if this didn't go the way you want it to."
You stiffened. "This isn't your concern, Daisy. Why don't you give Coulson his receiver back so that he can run this mission?"
"Okay, I get it," she scoffed. "You don't want my opinion or care."
"Never did," you affirmed, loosening the bolts on a vent so you could drop down to the floor. "Look, Daisy, I want to be happy here with you, but I just can't. So put Coulson back on or I'm turning the comm off."
"Hey, are you out of your mind? You're rejecting the help of someone--everyone who cares about you on the minimal chance that someone who wouldn't hesitate to shoot you on sight decides to listen instead."
"Put Coulson back on."
"Stop saying that! Just listen to reason for a second--"
You turned your comm off, as promised. "As if she knows a thing about me," you scoffed bitterly. "As if any of them really do."
Grant Ward was almost directly beneath you, and you almost had the bolts completely off of the vent opening. The only problem was the other man walking next to him. It would be best if he weren't there in the first place, but since he was there, and didn't look like he was going to leave any time soon, you were going to have to take him out. The problem with that was that it would make you look like you were here with hostile intent and would undermine the purpose of your mission entirely.
In theory, you could wait as long as it took for him to leave, but you were impatient. You took the vent cover off and positioned yourself to drop. "Here goes nothing," you whispered to yourself. You switched your comm back on and then dropped.
You landed just behind the other man and quickly took him out with a quick strike to the neck.
As Ward pulled out his gun and readied to pull the trigger, you put your hands up and shouted, "Don't shoot!"
"What are you doing here?" he asked through gritted teeth. He kept his gun up and aimed at you.
"I'm defecting from SHIELD."
--
Daisy stared into thin air, tears welling up in her eyes. "What does she mean?" she whispered. She looked at Coulson, who was letting no emotion show through his blank face. "What does she mean, she's defecting?" she repeated, more angrily. "Is this part of her mission? Something you might have forgotten to mention to the rest of us?"
Coulson looked up at her, his face giving nothing away. "That's classified," he said simply.
"How long?"
"Please tell me you're joking."
"I wasn't asking."
Peter Parker/Tony Stark x Reader
(Hi guys I suck and so does Depression™️) (Also there's just one more dialogue prompt request that I need to finish and then maybe I'll finish something longer lol)
Self-preservation instincts kicked in for Natasha as the building she was running towards collapsed downward on itself, so she skidded to a stop, even taking a few steps back. She was supposed to be back-up for the Avengers-in-training, but she hadn't been able to provide the backup that they had called for in time. Now they were stuck inside a heap of rubble.
Gigantic clouds of dust radiated outward from where the building used to be, making it nearly impossible to see or breathe, but nevertheless, Natasha had to call for someone that could help better than she could. There was only one person she could call right now, but he was honestly the last person she wanted to contact.
"Tony," she said, trying not to inhale any of the dust. "Peter and (Y/N) are stuck in that collapsed building."
He answered immediately. "Please tell me you're joking."
"Of course I'm not. I--" her voice broke into coughing-- "I need you here as fast as possible because I can't make out anything through this dust. "
"I'm gonna need you to at least try while I'm on my way."
"How long?"
"Too long," he sighed. "Give me two minutes, but until then, try to locate or contact them with the tracker gear I put in their suits."
"Copy," she choked out between coughs.
She tapped the comm gear on her wrist a couple of times, and tears sprung into her eyes when two orange blips popped up on the tiny holographic face. Orange: unconscious and in distress, but still alive.
"Scan wreckage," she commanded the scaled-back version of FRIDAY in her comm.
"Scanning," she replied. A transparent hologram began to form above Natasha's wrist, and she was able to find the exact location of you and Peter in the rubble of the building before FRIDAY even finished the complete scan.
On one hand, you were close to the ground and would be fairly easy to find, but on the other, that meant that more debris was on top of you than below.
"Send that to Tony."
"Of course, Miss Romanoff."
"Now see if you can make contact with either Peter or (Y/N)."
"Miss Romanoff, seeing as they're both unconscious—"
"I wasn't asking, FRIDAY," Natasha hissed. "Try to make contact."
"As you wish," the AI complied.
Natasha waited with bated breath, staring at the orange dots in the scan. All she needed was for one of you to turn yellow: conscious and in distress.
After a few breathless moments, yours did just that, flickering for a second, then stabilizing at yellow.
"FRIDAY? What's going on? Peter? Nat?" You coughed as you struggled to breathe. "I can't see anything down here."
"(Y/N)!" Natasha exclaimed in relief. "Tony's coming to find you, and he'll be there soon. Are you okay?"
"I think I'm okay. I don't know how—" you coughed again, and you used your left arm, which hurt less than your right arm, to pull your uniform over your mouth. "I don't know how long I can last down here. It's dark and really hard to breathe. Is Peter okay? Peter?"
Peter's orange dot began flickering to yellow but didn't stay on either color. "(Y/N)?" he groaned weakly.
"You won't have to hold out long, kid," Tony told you over the comms. Natasha saw the light from his boot jets streaking past her and towards the rubble as he continued, "I'm here now."
I have an advocacy project due by 2 pm on the 17th (my birthday!) so I need y’all to ask me some questions.
I’m a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (you might recognize the term Mormons better), and as such, you could say that I have some pretty radical beliefs about what a family should look like.
Ask me questions about my beliefs on the family, LGBTQ+ rights, abortion, et cetera and I’ll answer them completely honestly.
