Taylor Swift Albums as Marvel Characters (Evermore Edition)

1. Hawkeye/Clint Barton

2. Magneto/Erik Lehnsherr

3. Gamora

4. Wolverine/Logan Howlett

5. Hulk/Bruce Banner

6. The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes

7. Punisher/Frank Castle

8. Rogue

9. Jessica Jones

10. Scarlet Witch/Wanda Maximoff

Summary: No matter how many PhDs Bruce has to his name, he’ll never understand any member of this family.

Rating/Warnings/Tags:T (post-Avengers (2012); Avengers Tower; Tony’s Sister!Reader; Annoying Younger Sister!Reader; Stark!Reader; Science Bros; mild sexual content)

Challenge: “100 Drabbles of Randomness” by Miseria1 on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Tease

When Tony first set out to convince Bruce to move into Stark Tower with him, he had focused especially on the building’s laboratory. He talked endlessly over lunch after they saw Loki and Thor off to Asgard. The list of amenities was quite impressive, featuring a lot of open space, enormous glass walls and windows, and equipment that Bruce had never even heard of before, let alone seen. The scientific facilities were not the only reason that Bruce finally gave in, but he had to admit they had been a large draw. 

Thwap! 

Unfortunately, Tony had failed to mention one other important feature of his building and more specifically the labs: his younger sister, [F Name] Stark.

“Ignore her,” Tony crooned in an undertone, as Bruce picked another wad of newspaper off the tabletop.

“That’s the fifth time today she’s thrown something at my head,” Bruce said, “and it’s not even lunchtime.”

“Could be worse. Could be throwing rocks.”

“Don’t give her any ideas.”

“Hello!” you called from behind them. “Do you mind not talking about me as though I’m not here?”

Tony turned to glare at you. “Do you mind annoying someone else for a little while? Maybe Steve would like some company in the gym.”

“If Dr. Banner finds what I’m doing annoying, maybe he should join Cap in the gym.”

Sighing, Tony turned back to his and Bruce’s latest attempt at a new AI. He checked its progress for all of five seconds, then tossed the tool in his hand onto the counter, spun around, and headed for the exit.

“This step should take another hour to complete. Keep an eye on it for me, would you?” he asked Bruce. “I think [Name] is the only person on the planet that can make me long for a long chat with Steve.”

Tony vanished before Bruce could protest. The likelihood of any protest working was slim, but Bruce would have liked to try. Now he was trapped up here unless you decided to leave him alone, something you hadn’t done once whenever you found him in the lab. He dropped his head into his crossed arms resting on the table and hoped that that morning you wouldn’t find him an entertaining target. 

Thwap! 

“[Name], if you want this floor to remain in one piece, you really need to stop throwing things at me,” he said, voice muffled by his sleeves. 

Thwap! 

“[Name]." 

Thwap! 

"I said stop!” Bruce growled as he twisted on his stool to face you.

His shoulders hunched up around his ears, and the breaths heaving from his chest contained a guttural edge. These symptoms alone should have been enough to frighten you, but no. Your bored expression did not flicker. You sat coolly on your stool at the other end of the room with one of the large pile of paper balls beside you clutched in one hand.

“Really?” you asked. “A couple of paper balls to the noggin makes you angry enough to Hulk out?”

“I’m always angry. All it takes is one little push.”

Bruce rubbed at his eyes with his fists. Already that one flare of anger had faded and left him wanting a nap. You were right about one thing, though: A bit of light prodding to the skull was not worth the full exhaustion of becoming the Hulk. He took several deep breaths to get himself under control—only for another paper to bean him in the head. 

Thwap! 

With a groan, Bruce crumpled the paper in his hand. “Why do you hate me so much, [Name]?”

“Why do you think I hate you?”

“Come on. You’ve had it in for me from the day we met. Any time you find me hanging around with Tony, you do whatever it takes for one of us to get sick of you and go away.”

“How do you mean?" 

Thwap! 

"Like that. Seriously, what do you want me to do? Do you want me to just go back to India and leave you and your brother in peace?”

“Of course not!” The mere suggestion seemed to leave you shocked. “Why would I want that?”

“If just seeing me around upsets you so much—" 

Thwap! Thwap! Thwap! Thwap! 

A cascade of papers hit him one after another. He lifted his hands to shield himself from the blows, but they kept coming until you ran out of ammunition.

"I don’t hate you. God! You already figured out the problem, genius. And you’re supposed to have how many PhDs?”

“Seven,” Bruce answered vaguely. Without the continuous assault on his head, he could perhaps set his mind to figuring out what it was he had already figured out. All he could think of was: “You don’t like it when I spend time with Tony?”

“Ding, ding, ding, ding! Got it in one, Doctor.”

“But my moving to India would solve that problem.”

You had nothing else to toss at him. Apparently, this was reason enough for you get up and walk over to him. A few seconds later, you stood in front Bruce with your hands on your hips. “I don't care about spending time with my brother, all right? It’s not like I just got out of boarding school last week. We see plenty of each other. Which would mean…?”

“You…you want to spend more time with me?” Bruce said, once he realized you expected him to supply an answer. It wasn’t in the least logical, but you nodded. “That doesn’t make any sense! Whenever Tony and I are in here together, you torment me.”

As he blathered on, you just kept on nodding. That Bruce noticed. What he didn’t was the arm extending toward his collar—not until you hooked a finger around it and pulled him toward you until your lips nearly touched.

“That’s because I want to get you alone, Doctor, and out of the lab.”

Bruce gulped. “And why would that be?”

You grinned. “The things I want to do to you aren’t things I want Tony or JARVIS watching.”

“Er…I—That is to say—”

“I’m back! Wouldn’t you know it? Listening to Steve go on and on about the good old days is enough to get me to miss my baby sister,” Tony’s voice came up the stairs leading to the lab door.

Bruce felt himself turn bright red at the thought of him catching you and Bruce in such position, but you’d already released him by the time the thought occurred. Tony saw nothing as he entered the room.

“How about you two? Play nice while I was gone?”

“Um—” Bruce began.

“I ran out of paper balls,” you interrupted. “Don’t worry. I’ve recollected them.”

“Excellent. Then I think it’s about time Bruce and I returned to work. How about you, Bruce?”

Bruce’s eyes followed your sauntering course back to your own lab station. You winked at him as you dropped your projectiles back on its surface. Hastily, he spun back to the waiting holographic screen behind him.

“Yes,” he said. “Let’s.”

“Loving the enthusiasm, Big Guy. Now, I was thinking…”

In all honesty, Bruce didn’t really listen to the rest of Tony’s spiel. He had his mind on other matters—like the possibility of taking you up on that offer to spend time with you outside of the lab. This whole project shouldn’t take too much longer. Then, perhaps, he might convince you to go get a coffee with him. 

Thwack! 

…if only so you might stop throwing things at his head.

Summary: He’s dealt with worse problems in his lifetime.

Rating/Warnings:All (This is almost certainly not how sleepwalking works.)

Challenge: “100 Drabbles of Randomness” by Miseria1 on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Sleepwalk

When Bruce woke up, he found someone in his bed. This wasn’t an altogether strange occurrence, but he was quite certain he had gone to bed alone four hours ago. Trying not to feel too concerned, he wiggled halfway out of the sheets before peeling those beside him back. He was surprised to find youcurled up in a ball halfway down the mattress.

Bruce frowned. Had he gone to bed alone the night before? Yes, he was sure he had. He’d been up with Tony until one working on some new clean-energy plans and had had no chance to call and see if you had made it home all right after dinner.

“Um, [Name]?” He nudged you softly with his hand.

The tiny ball simply shuddered slightly at his touch.

Bruce tried again. “[Name]?”

Your eyelids fluttered and a small groan worked its way free of your throat as you stretched yourself out of your fetal position.

“Five more minutes,” you mumbled as you flipped over.

Bruce shook your shoulder. “Is there any particular reason you’re asleep in my bed?“

You opened your eyes completely at that. They darted across the unfamiliar walls and ceiling. Then you looked at him, cheeks already much darker than normal.

“Oh, no,” you said.

“Is everything okay?”

“Fine!” You sat up and shuffled your feet across the carpet underneath the bed. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry, Bruce.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You certainly weren’t acting like it. “Are you sick?”

“No! No, I’m not. I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“But why are you here?”

You looked at him. Bruce looked back. At last, you took a deep breath and answered:

“I…have a problem.” His eyebrows rose at that, so you continued, “It’s not a big deal. I just…sleepwalk…sometimes. I guess I was thinking about you so much that my legs took me here without me making them.”

“Ah,” Bruce said, as if that explained things.

The color in your cheeks deepened still further as you stood up. "I’m so sorry. I’ll go home now.“

But you didn’t get far before he took your wrist. "Look, you’re already here. I missed you, too. Besides, it’s dangerous to be wandering around at five in the morning in your pajamas. Why don’t you just stay the night–or day, as the case may be?”

You paused before turning your head slightly to look at him. Your cheeks were beginning to fade back to their original color. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

Bruce shifted to his side to allow you space to crawl back underneath the blanket. As you snuggled back into the sheet, he chuckled and shifted you so he could tuck you into his chest. Before you fell back to sleep, he planted a kiss behind your ear and whispered:

“And maybe if this is going to be a frequent problem, you should just move in.”

Summary: Sometimes love is like quicksand: You take one wrong step and it sucks you straight in.

Rating/Warnings:All (hate to love; Post-Avengers (2012))

Challenge: “100 Drabbles of Randomness” by Miseria1 on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Quicksand

When you first met Dr. Bruce Banner, you’d hated his guts. Physicist work was your work at Stark Industries, and you didn’t appreciate his coming along to usurp your position–not that Tony noticed your obvious disdain when he shoved the other man into your workspace.

“Look, [Name]! I brought you a souvenir: a new partner!” Tony said.

You would have preferred a “My boss saved the world and all I got was this lousy t-shirt” t-shirt. Surely that was apparent in the way your lips curled as you shook Dr. Banner’s hand. Still, Tony just grinned, slapped the two of you on the backs, and left with a jaunty:

“You two kids play nice now!”

Needles to say, you did not play nice. You glowered and sulked and pouted and glared. Dr. Banner didn’t try to stop you. He just did his work in silence and only deigned to speak up when he needed help finding a tool.

Several weeks passed in the same manner before something strange happened, and it was something you never could quite figure out. Things between the two of you just seemed to…shift.

“What do you say we take a break and go get lunch?” Dr. Banner interrupted the quiet to ask.

You looked up from your holo-screen to scowl at him. “Why are you asking me?“

"Because you don’t do anything other than work. You seem lonely.”

Your eyes widened. Dr. Banner gazed at you calmly in return. Then you slammed your palms onto the table and left the room.

It bothered you that he noticed something so easily that you thought you had been hiding so well. You didn’t go back to work after your lunch break that day, but instead spent the rest of the afternoon grouching at home, ranting to your goldfish about how exactly much you hated Dr. Banner.

Time passed. Your rage faded slowly to embarrassment. You realized that you had been taking out your feelings of inadequacy on a man that had been nothing but polite to you.

“About that lunch,” you said the next day.

Dr. Banner looked away from his notes.

“I–I’m sorry I snapped at you. Maybe we could go today?”

He smiled. “I’d like that.

Summary:Natasha tends gets her way, if not always in the way that she expects.

Rating/Warnings: All (song lyrics as dialogue; Song Challenge; Post-Avengers (2012); SHIELD Agent!Reader; Avenger!Reade; Some Crack; Pre-Iron Man 3; Avengers Tower; absent!Thor)

Requester:@flintt

Request:  “Can I […] ask for a Bruce Banner fanfic? I was also wondering if y/n could just be a shield agent doing a singing challenge with co-workers and end up doing Banner (I like to think it’s overwhembled /the Ryan Mack Remix/) and he’s all smitten and in love. Pretty much fluff. Thanks. […] y/n is a really good singer and suggests them and their co-workers play a game, which y/n will summarize the avengers personality/love life/ whatever with a song.”

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Notes: Credit is given for the music within the work. Also, I must give a shout-out to my best friend IRL for coming up with the ending to this one shot back when I first mentioned what I was working on to her.

Silent No More

Silence had a funny way of turning the most mundane of tasks into an arduous affair. It could do so in more than one way, too. You could endure the thin, anxious silence waiting for the signal to begin acting out a mission. You could handle the heavy, poignant silence at the other end of a phone line when you called a family to inform them a fellow agent had died in the line of duty. But by far the hardest silence to sit through was standing alone in an elevator with your boss while he studiously typed out messages to someone else all the way down.

When the silver doors finally slid open to reveal Avengers Towers common area, you sucked in an enormous breath. Unstifled air at last! But you could not enjoy it for long. Director Fury stepped out onto the tile alongside you with his black coat billowing at his ankles. You struggled to match his long strides as you both headed in the direction of the second lift at the other end of the wide room. Whatever he and Maria were talking about must have been important; he still hadn’t said a single word since you left the interview. Had you screwed things up? Should you bring the question up yourself, or wait for him to start the lecture?

“[Name]!”

A familiar voice forced you to turn before either you or Director Fury reached the elevator to the main lobby. There at the kitchen table sat your close friend, Natasha Romanoff, and fellow SHIELD agent Clint Barton. Behind them in the kitchen itself stood another familiar figure: Bruce Banner, who seemed determined to pretend no one else was anywhere nearby.

Natasha caught your eye and waved you over. You shot Director Fury a questioning look. He was still, for all intents and purposes, your boss, as well as your ride home for the evening. Without even looking up from his communicator, he nodded.

“So, how did it go?” she asked upon your approach.

“Fine,” you answered.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I got the job.”

She and Clint clapped enthusiastically. Maybe it was lingering anxiety from being trapped in a room for an hour while Director Fury, Steve Rogers, and Tony Stark shot questions at you, but their celebratory gesture only made your face grow warm. Then Natasha made things worse by kicking the chair across from her out from under the table and pointing imperiously at the empty seat.

“Sit,” she said.

So used to following her orders were you that you sat without a second thought. From that angle, you had a good view of Bruce’s wide shoulders straining a little against the fabric of his purple shirt. The scent of hot milk and spices rose from whatever he had on the stove; you wondered if he was making tea.

Natasha cleared her throat. Starting, you returned your attention to her—but that didn’t convince her it had always been there. Her green eyes slid knowingly in Bruce’s direction and back to your face. Her smile grew as she pushed an upside-down baseball cap across the table to you. It rustled strangely as it moved, and the reason soon became clear: A number of folded paper slips sat inside.

“Welcome to the team,” she said. “I hope you didn’t think this would get you out of our little game.”

Horrified, you gazed down at the hat. All of the papers inside seemed to writhe around like venomous snakes. Though Clint had not spoken a single word since your arrival, you could see him smirking over the lip of his coffee mug. You knew exactly what he found so amusing, too: The vague warmth against the back of your head told you that Director Fury had followed you to the table—and he was probably still busy talking to Maria. That wouldn’t mean he wasn’t keeping track of your conversation, though; the World Security Council did not pay him to be unobservant.

Did Natasha, your so-called “friend,” have any sympathy for your plight? Of course she didn’t. She just jostled that hat by its brim and reminded you, “This whole thing was youridea.”

“I know,” you moaned.

“So what’s the hold up?”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

You couldn’t help stealing another glance at the back of Bruce’s dark curly head. Was he listening in? How could he not? Nothing else was going on in the common area, and making tea didn’t cause a lot of noise.

“Before I joined the Avengers,” you answered in an undertone.

“Oh, but I have to play? I’ve been an Avenger from the beginning.”

“Then let’s call the whole thing off. I’ll just see you guys tomorrow, shall—”

As you stood to beat a hasty retreat, Clint grabbed your elbow and pulled you back into your chair. “Nice try, [Name].”

“You aren’t chickening out of this now,” said Natasha. “Not after I’ve already completed one round.”

“What? Who did you get?” you demanded.

Clint raised the hand that gripped you into the air.

“That’s not fair. How did you draw your best friend right off the bat? Did she even really sing to you?” you asked Clint.

“Of course she did. Why would I lie about a thing like that?” he asked you in return.

“Because, as previously stated, you’re her best friend.”

“I am shocked and appalled you think I’m capable of such outright dishonesty with such meager motivation.”

“Prove it then. What song did she sing to you?”

Clint opened his mouth, but Natasha put a hand on his shoulder. He grinned, drained the last of whatever was in his cup, and set it down on the table with an exaggerated smack of his lips.

“Sorry, [Name].” He didn’t sound it. “My lips are sealed. Natasha swore me to secrecy, and you know how thatgoes.”

You sure did, and knowing made you all the more suspicious. Clint and Natasha often acted as a unit. What she wanted, she usually got. If she needed help from her partner in crime, you hadn’t come across a situation yet where he refused to help her. Huffing, you threw yourself back against your chair and crossed your arms over your chest.

“I don’t believe either of you.”

These words bothered Natasha not at all. With a flourish, she pulled her cell phone out, shaking it a little so that its glassy screen caught the lights above your heads. “That’s okay. I’ve got video proof. Oh, I don’t think so,” she added when you made a futile grab for the phone. “You can see the recording after you wrap up yourassignment.”

Unconvinced, you looked again at Clint. He might have been willing to do just about anything for Natasha, but lying was not one of those things. Not in circumstances where no one’s life was in danger, at least.

“Itwas a pretty spectacular show,” he said.

You threw your hands into the air. “Ugh! Fine! Give me the hat.”

She held it out again. You plunged your hand into the waiting pool of slips before you could change your mind. Maybe you’d get lucky. Maybe you’d pick some guy assigned to Helicarrier duty for the next three months. Maybe you'd—

“Oh, that’s perfect!” Natasha said.

The paper unfolded read “Bruce Banner.”

“Yourigged this.” You leveled your deadliest glare at her, the one that occasionally caused hardened terrorists to drop their weapons without firing at your team. “I don’t know how you rigged this, but this is all your doing.”

“Don’t be a spoil sport, [Name]. Director, why don’t you go ahead and draw your assignment now?”

She thrust the hat up toward your heretofore wordless boss. When you twisted in your seat, you saw him stop rattling away on his communicator just long enough to look from the hat to Natasha’s face.

“Don’t make me fire you, Agent Romanoff,” he said.

“That’s all right.” She cheerfully sat the hat down at her elbow. “I’ll use that sleight of hand [Name] has accused me of to make sure no one gets to Tony’s slip before you.”

“Hey. What are you guys up to?” asked a new voice.

All four of you slowly moved your heads to see Bruce standing nearby. He had one hand in his pocket; the other held a steaming mug.

“Nothing,” Natasha said with a radiant smile.

“Nothing you’d be interested in,” Clint added.

“Nothing you need to be involved in, Dr. Banner,” said Director Fury. “With the only person capable of wrestling the Hulk into submission still in Asgard, I’d prefer you to keep your stress levels at a minimum.”

A brief pause followed this suggestion. Bruce licked his lips. You watched a faint line on his forehead deepen for a moment. Then the line vanished to be replaced by a thin smile.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll just go see if Tony wants any help in the lab today. Congratulations on making the team, [Name]. Or maybe I should offer you my condolences?”

With that, he took his tea and shuffled off to the elevator you and Director Fury had vacated. Only after he disappeared behind the metal doors did the rest of your group relax.

“That was close,” said Clint.

“Very,” Fury agreed.

The rapid key tapping resumed. Natasha got up from the table to do something in the kitchen. Clint slurped at the nothing that remained in his cup. You, on the other hand, stared wordlessly at the paper clenched between your hands. Keeping Bruce in the dark was part of the game. He couldn’t know what was going on until you revealed it all to him. Had it been your imagination that he looked hurt over being told to stay out of it? Director Fury, at least, sounded awfully sincere about wanting Bruce to avoid all stress.

******

The first steps you took into your new home later that week hardly gave you the opportunity to get a good look at your surroundings. All you could tell was that they were big. As far a cry from D.C. as Manhattan was to begin with, your floor on Avengers Tower could not have been more different than the studio apartment you’d left behind.

Figures filled and moved throughout the area, providing even more distraction. As you and Natasha strode through the lobby of your home, arms laden with moving boxes, a platoon of Iron Man suits kept busy moving, adjusting, unpacking, disposing. And at the center of all this stood Tony Stark himself.

“How much more you got left, [Name]?” he asked as you neared his station in the living room. “Not that these guys need lunch, but I sure could use a break.”

“Why don’t you come downstairs and take a look yourself? We’d get it done faster if one of us wasn’t hanging out up here doing nothing,” Natasha said.

Tony looked affronted. “Nothing? Nothing? If I leave my post, who’s going to supervise this lot? You guys don’t have the control chip installed.”

“They could alsohelp unload the truck.”

“Nope. Sorry. No can do. These boys need to be kept on the D.L. until I’ve got all the kinks worked out.”

“Kinks?” you asked. “What kinks?”

“Nothing you need to worry about. All I’m saying is, I bring them outside just in time for the delivery kid to show up, and bam! One YouTube video later, the whole world knows what I'm—Hey! Mk. XXIV! Don’t you dare drop that! Don’t you—What did I justsay?”

A tremendous crashing sound caused the floor to shake.

“No kinks to worry about?” Natasha asked.

“Hold that thought,” Tony said as he stepped around you both and headed back the way you’d come. “Do you want to join DUM-E in the basement? So help me God, I’ll put you on mopping duty if that’s what you’re after!”

“Please tell me that wasn’t my grandmother’s china cabinet,” you said.

Natasha looked over her shoulder at the mess for you. “Doesn’t look like it. Looks like it might have been the coffee table Tony already put up here.”

“Thank God. I don’t have enough furniture to fill this place up as it is.”

“Lucky for you it comes pre-furnished.” Something behind you made a horrible, sharp squealing noise. Tony’s frustrated shouting resumed. “So long as Tony gets his Iron Legion under control.”

“Maybe we should take my dinnerware to a safer location.”

“Good idea.”

The sounds of groaning and crunching faded as you and Natasha slipped into your floor’s private kitchen. None of the drones had come that far back yet. In your hands you carried the first box of cookware. You slid it onto the waiting bar counter, tore it open, and began to pull out drinking glasses before any Iron Legion members could come in and break these as well.

“So,” Natasha said, setting down her own box next to yours. You liked her tone not at all.

“So what?”

“How’s the Song Challenge coming along? Have you picked something for Bruce yet?”

Of course that would be what was on her mind. Ever since she’d read the name on the slip you drew, Natasha had inundated you with texts, voicemails, and video calls about your plan. She seemed to think this was your big chance to show Bruce how you felt about him instead of what it really was: Your big chance to embarrass him and yourself in front of all his coworkers, irrevocably ruining any kind thoughts he had toward you.

“I don’t know if you missed the memo, Nat,” you had to stand on your tiptoes to reach the shelf you wanted, “but I’ve been a little busy this week packing my entire life into numerous boxes.”

“Exactly my point. Plenty of time for you to think. I’ve already wrapped up assignment number two.”

“What? Who did you get for that one?”

More importantly, when did she find the time? Apocalypse-level threats to Earth did not arise every single day, but surely the Avengers kept themselves busy. Why else hire on a seventh member?

Someone from over by the doorway cleared their throat. At first they appeared to be a tower of cardboard boxes on two thick legs. Then the someone stepped into the room and carefully dropped the boxes onto the empty kitchen table. Steve looked a little embarrassed, and it didn’t take long for you to figure out why.

“Speak of the Devil,” Natasha said with a grin.

You glared at her. “Seriously? Steve? You got Steve, and you’ve already sung to him.”

“I’ll have everyone else taken care of, too, at the rate you’re going. Don’t spend long on your break, Steve. And don’t tell her anything.”

With this final warning ringing in the air, she slid around Steve and out into the hall. You tore open the box containing your cutlery. What else could you do? Having worked occasionally with the Avengers as a SHIELD agent didn’t mean you had any clue how to act alone around Captain America.

“If it helps,” he said into the awkward silence, “she isn’t lying.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve got any proof of that.”

Steve shook his head. “You heard her. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and find out my social security number doesn’t exist anymore. I can’t imagine you want that either.”

“I guess not,” you admitted grudgingly. Steve, at least, could probably get his identity back. Seeing as you didn’t so much as have a code name yet, Natasha could wreak much more havoc on your life if she chose to do so.

“But [Name].”

You looked at him.

“I always tell the truth.”

It would have been impossible to disbelieve him anyway when he furrowed his brows and filled his blue eyes with sincerity like that. Even if hugely muscled, all-American soldiers weren’t your type, Steve looked so handsome and earnest just then that you couldn’t even muster up an eye roll. All you could do was say:

“Right.”

Natashahad told him to not be take much time talking to you; she wouldn’t wait long before she came back to double-check he wasn’t spilling the beans about her song routine. You expected him to leave once you turned your back to fill an open drawer with silverware. Instead, when you went to retrieve a handful of spoons, you found him a few feet away loading plates into a cabinet.

“So, you’re having trouble coming up with something for Dr. Banner?” he asked.

“Er…yeah.” So surprised were you that Steve could speak to you like a normal human being that it took a second or two of staring before you remembered you were supposed to be unpacking. “I know he’ll probably hate the attention either way, but I want to pick something he’ll like—or at least something that won’t embarrass him too badly.”

“Want some help?”

“No thanks. I’ll think of something. I’m not sure that anything from the 1930s would be appropriate for Bruce.”

Steve did not deny listening exclusively to music from his own time period unless Tony forced him to do otherwise. “Well, if you change your mind?”

“I’ll let you know.”

“You’ll think of something good. I think it will be good for Dr. Banner to get a little positive attention.”

“No pressure, right?”

“I didn’t say that to pressure you. For what it’s worth—”

Cardboard scraping against cardboard cut through whatever he intended to say. Speak of the Devil was right! Behind the new boxes stood Bruce of all people. His dark eyes moved between your and Steve’s faces. He, Bruce, seemed to realize he had walked in the middle of something, because he licked his lips and forced a smile, an expression of his you were rapidly growing accustom to.

“Sorry,” he said. “I only managed to carry a couple of boxes up.”

“Every little bit helps,” Steve assured him, but Bruce continued to fidget with his hands.

“The Hulk could probably get the whole truck up here in one go, but—”

“He’d wind up smashing everything to pieces. Better not risk it.”

Color crept into Bruce’s cheeks. “That’s what I was getting at.”

Poor Bruce. He looked so uncomfortable. If only you could say something to crack the sudden tension that filled the kitchen. But what could you say? You got only as far as opening your mouth when he turned, shoulders hunched, to leave the room.

“I’d best get back down there and grab a few more things,” he said. “Can’t have puny Banner failing to pull his own weight, right?”

“Dr. Banner,” Steve began, but Bruce did not pause in his retreat. “Dr. Banner!”

“Bruce? What’s up?” you heard Tony ask from the other room. If Bruce gave him an answer, you didn’t hear it.

Steve let out a sharp sigh.

“I should go apologize. That was out of line. Natasha’s probably looking for me anyway. You good in here alone?”

You nodded as you tore into one of the boxes Bruce brought up. The only current threat nearby was to your material possessions, not to your physical well-being. Nothing more needed to be said after Steve ducked out. If you’d tried to speak, you’d probably have told Captain America that he ought to apologize, and you couldn’t say that to your new boss. Actually, Bruce probably deserved an apology from you as well, assuming he’d heard any part of your conversation with Steve. Maybe you should head down to the lobby, too…

Crash! Bang! Screech!

“Are you kidding me?” Tony cried.

On second thought, your things might be safer if you stayed right where you were.

******

Tonydid eventually get his drones to do the jobs he wanted them to do. Unpacking your things became significantly easier after that. In fact, he even got them to put several items of furniture that they had broken back together. Your bookshelves almost looked as good as new—not that you had time to look for obvious cracks when Steve assigned you to training with different team members every day of the remaining week. With so few actual missions on the schedule, it was no wonder Natasha could spend all that time shuttling back and forth between Avengers Tower and SHIELD HQ for the Song Challenge! Meanwhile, the rest of the team kept you so busy you hardly had five minutes to yourself to think of anything for your onechallenge.

Friday afternoon provided you the first free hour of time since you’d settled in. Showered and aching, you headed down to the common floor with the hope of overhearing something about Natasha’s efforts. The hope was slim; she had everyone terrified into silence. You stepped into the room to find her, Clint, and Steve crowded around Tony on the sofa. Tony was holding up his cell phone, and from its speakers blared music and the unmistakable sound of Natasha’s singing voice.

The very second the lift doors closed behind you, all four of them looked up. Tony turn off his phone and slipped into his pocket right away. You scowled as you stalked over to collapse on the armchair near them.

“Don’t let me stop you from having a good time,” you said.

“You’re not,” said Tony.

“You’re giving Natasha an excuse to snap our necks,” said Clint.

The woman in question gave Clint a playful smack on the back of his head. He smiled at her.

“Get a room,” you muttered, sliding further into your chair.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Still having trouble with your Song Challenge?” Natasha hopped up from her seat only to come perch on one of your chair arms. The withering look you sent her again had no effect on her.

“Mine is going fine, thank you for asking.”

“Hey, there’s no shame in admitting defeat,” Clint said.

“You don’t know Bruce as well as we do,” Tony put in. “Maybe you should call it quits and see if Romanoff will give you someone else. Someone…simpler?”

“You’re the simplest person around here to understand,” Steve said.

“I only keep things simple for you Cap. We all realize your primitive mind can’t grasp our modern-day nuances.”

“If this is a simpleness competition, I think [Name] wins,” said Clint. “She can’t even think of one song and dance routine to perform for Bruce, and Natasha’s already finished four.”

“Makes you wonder if she’s cut out for the Avengers,” Natasha agreed.

“Oh, shut up.” You knew you sounded sour, but did she have to rub it in? “Anyway, Barton, I don’t know where you get off nagging me. Your deadline is up tomorrow.”

He flicked his hand dismissively. “I took care of Maria on Tuesday.”

This news caused you to bury your face in your hands in frustration. “Is everyone going to beat me to the punch? This whole thing was myidea!”

“Not to put too fine a point on it, but your work on this is not going to reflect well upon you in your next employee review,” Tony said, then added when you lifted your face to glower at him, “We’re teasing you, [Name]. You’re one of us now. You’d better get used to it.”

A quiet whoosh announced yet another addition to the group. Out of the elevator slouched Bruce. He took one look at you all gathered there without him, most everyone smiling, and then quickly looked away. You noticed that Tony’s eyes followed Bruce’s circuitous route around the sitting room into the kitchen just as yours did. There Bruce opened the refrigerator and stuck his head inside it without so much as greeting anyone sitting there a few feet away.

When you looked again at Tony, he smirked. That you found odd—or did, until he called:

“Hey, Bruce. Why don’t you quit hiding in the fridge over there and join us?”

He pulled his head free only far enough that he could see you all. “Huh?”

“There’s room on the couch.” Tony waved Bruce over. “Or [Name]’s other chair arm is free. You could get to know her, since you’ve been avoiding all your training exercises with her.”

That explained why you still hadn’t had gone any rounds with Bruce in the gym upstairs. Why would he avoid you? You tried to surreptitiously give him a good once-over, as though you could glean why he had such an aversion to spending time with you specifically with just a glance. He caught your eye as you did and hastily twisted around so he could hold out his hands, fingers spread wide in front of him.

“That’s okay. You guys look cozy. I’ll just make some tea and be on my way,” he said.

“You could make tea on your own floor if you wanted to be antisocial. Come on. Sit.”

“Ireally don’t think that’s at all advisable.”

“Sit! Sit! Sit!” Clint started to chant.

“Sit! Sit! Sit!” Natasha joined in.

It didn’t take long for Tony to take up the words himself. Only you and Steve remained silent, and the latter not for long as you watched Bruce try and fail several time to interrupt their chorus, Steve lifted his own hands to his shoulders. His glare succeed in shutting every single one of them, even Tony.

“There’s no need to heckle Dr. Banner,” Steve said. “If he doesn’t want to be around us, he doesn’t have to be.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to be around you guys,” Bruce mumbled.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to us. Trust me, I know how stressful talking to Tony for any length of time can be.”

“Hey! I resemble that remark,” said Tony.

Steve shot him another withering look, then returned his attention to Bruce. “If you ever feel like we get to be too much, leave the room. No one will think any less of you. It’s safer for all of us if you don’t have the temptation to turn.”

“Cap,” Tony began, but his warning tone went nowhere. Bruce broke in by snapping the refrigerator shut behind.

“Yeah, I think I get the gist,” he said.

After that, Bruce tried to make back to the lift. He didn’t notice you standing so abruptly that you nearly knocked Natasha off her perch. He didn’t see you running to intercept him. But he did see you once you stood blocking his path, and he immediately came to a halt.

“[Name]?” he asked, brown eyes wide.

You could feel everyone else’s wide eyes riveted on you as well. Part of you thought things might go smoother for your integration into the team if you did nothing more than apologize to Bruce for making him uncomfortable and sit back down. If you did that, however, you’d never hear the end of it. Tony probably would bring your failure to complete your own challenge up on your employee review just for kicks. Besides, you got the feeling that if you let Bruce vanish on you now, you’d never get another opportunity to show him what you’d thought up.

“Are you all right?” Bruce prompted you, after a good half a minute passed without you saying anything.

To answer his question, you took a deep breath. He looked as though he was going to ask again, so you cut him off by starting to sing:

“I get overwhelmed so easily. My anxiety creeps inside of me, makes it so hard to breathe.”

No, your voice was too quiet. Could the man in front of you hear you? All he was doing was frowning at you still. You continued on with the song, growing a little louder with each line until you reached the first verse at full volume:

“But these doubts are haunting me. Oh, why’s it always right before I fall asleep that—”

“JAR?” Tony said. “Play Overwhelmed by Ryan Mack through the speakers. And rip out the voice track!”

“Of course, sir.”

You dove into the chorus as the music swelled around you. Bruce’s frown slowly faded away. Now he looked incredulous. Probably he could not believe he’d entered a universe in which his new coworker would just belt out a song to him in front of all his friends and other coworkers. Would you let that deter you? Not now. In fact, the musical accompaniment gave you the courage to dance along. Your moves were nothing compared to what you figured Natasha’s were, but at least you weren’t just standing there doing nothing anymore.

“I get over…well, well, well, would you look at that? Another person telling me to just ‘relax.’ ‘Calm down and take it easy. Everything will be okay.’ Yeah, sure.”

The astonishment on Bruce’s face twisted into an enormous grin, and he didn’t stop smiling for the rest of your song. All the while, the rest of the Avengers clapped along to the beat piping in from the ceiling.

“I get overwhelmed!”

A brief pause followed this conclusion. Then the group in the living room burst into applause. You couldn’t have cared less about their reaction either way. The only person’s you did care about was Bruce’s. He still hadn’t stopped smiling.

“Isthis what Natasha’s been doing all week that everyone’s being so secretive about?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said, then hastened to explain, “It was my idea. We’re all supposed to draw someone’s name out of a hat and pick a song to sing to them that summarizes them.”

“And you just had to go and draw my name.”

“No! I wanted you. Natasha probably made sure I did. I—I think you’re really sweet, Bruce. I realize this might not be the best way to tell you that, though.”

“No, it was. I loved it.”

You gaped at him. “You did?”

“Yeah. It was perfect. Maybe after training sometime, you and I could—”

All the lights on the floor went out.

“Very funny, Tony,” Bruce said.

“It’s not me,” Tony replied. “JARVIS? Lights, please!”

JARVIS did not respond. The only light came now from the button glowing beside the lift down to the tower’s lower floors. Bruce took your hands in his, presumably to shove you behind him if it came down to a fight. You held your breath until the elevator doors slid open to reveal a shadowed figure that stepped out onto the floor.

“Hey, buddy. Bad call breaking into this place,” Clint said.

A spotlight cut through the darkness. You could not make out who the person was at this distance, only that their clothing sparkled. Ominous music began to fill the room.

“You think you came up with piping in your own background music?” Tony said. “Come back when you’ve got something more original.”

The figure said nothing as it drew closer and closer to the Avengers. Multicolored lights swarmed suddenly across everyone’s faces. Whoever it was struck a pose only a few feet from the couch, and it hit you: It was Director Fury, wearing the same outfit he normally did but with glitter covering his trench coat and eye patch. He launched into his own song:

“Make his fight on the hill in the early day, constant chill deep inside.”

“What the hell?” you heard several of those gathered say. Their confusion did not prevent Director Fury from dancing his way right up to a stunned Tony Stark.

“For whom the bell tolls, time marches on. Sing it!”

Slack jawed, Tony did not blink at all between that moment and the end of Director Fury’s performance. No, it was more than that: Tony didn’t move. No one did. By the time the last notes of Metallica’s For Whom the Bell Tolls faded into nothingness and all the lights flicked back on, your hands had grown warm and moist inside of Bruce’s. Everyone one sat staring like that for what felt ages before Tony made a sudden grab for his phone.

Director Fury snatched Tony’s arm and held it in place. “No one will ever believe you.”

Without uttering another word, Director Fury turned, twinkling, to stride back to the elevator doors through which he’d come. You all remained too stunned to speak for several minutes after he vanished behind them.

“Well,” Natasha said at last, “I think we can all agree on who won [Name]’s Song Challenge.”

A murmur of assent rose from the group.

One by one, each member of the team seem to thaw. Bruce squeezed your hands before releasing you at last. Sure, you might have lost out on the overall win, but you’d won his heart. That was something that even Director Fury wouldn’t be stealing away from you any time soon.

Defenders #1 (Englehart/Buscema, Aug 1972). Hulk keeps cool long enough to ask Dr Strange for help rescuing Namor from a necromancer. This team doesn’t make any sense but I’m kinda into that dynamic.

Episode 2: Bloody Mess

A fucking geyser ! The liquid was leaking out in the air, propulsing blood everywhere but mostly on the white expensive leather couch.

You tried as much as you could to wrap a hand around his neck and put pressure on the wound to prevent any further catastrophe but in vein. Blood pooled around your fingers and rained  on the previously immaculate material.

« Shit, Tony’s gonna kill me »

Being completely useless regarding the situation, you decided to help it your style. You put your mouth on the wound and let the life liquid pour into your mouth, drinking in every bit. It was seriously not the best meal, you didn’t even had the time to savour it, dam nit !

But itw as food so you got used to it rather quickly and enjoyed. And maybe you got a little too much into it.

While moving your hand to put yourself in a more comfortable position, you placed your hand on a soaked part of the couch and slipped. The movement resulted in a momentum that made you fall off the couch and right onto the coffee table. Which of course, was made of glass and it shattered under your weight. With a groan, you let yourself rest on the ground while blood was still spray-painting the room in red and shards of glass were tearing the skin of your back apart.

It couldn’t get worse so what was the point to kill yourself on task to make it better.

As you just laid there, in the middle of the chaotic scenery, the elevator’s ring echoed through the room. You couldn’t do anything else than close your eyes and let the doom crash upon you.

« What the fuck ! »

Tony screamed, probably noticing the chaos his living room was in, fortunately, he was hidden from your sight and so were you from his.

He rant about god knows what he wanted to do to you for ruining his amazing home. But before he could get to the point, he let-out a scream before a loud crash noise filled the room before silence settled again.

Your eyes shot open and you squinted in confusion straightening yourself in a sitting position. When no noise followed, you got yourself up as well as you could and search for your friend.

Quickly, you found him laying on the floor in the middle of a bloody puddle, the scarlet liquid staining his clothes.

« Tony ? »

His eyes opened slowly and met yours, anger clear in them.

« I’m going to kill you ! Pass me a stake before I change my mind and feel guilty ! »

You offered him your hand to take so he could get up, he clearly accepted it with reluctance and tried to get off the ground. Unfortunately, your hand wasn’t a sure grip with all the blood itw as covered in and he slipped from your hold, falling on the floor for the second time.

« Get out of my sight ! » he shouted while ridiculously wriggling on the floor.

« Sure » you said

Before jumping in the air, turning into a bat and flying off. Just about to leave the room by the nearest window, you collided with the glass. Knocked off by the shock, you fell to the floor.

And to say it was a rather mainstream night at the tower…

Rant

Rant about people ruining endgame. I’m aware not everyone will be interested in this I just want to get it out my system.

So today was my first day back at school after Easter. At break someone came down to where me and my friends sit just to tell us who dies in Avengers Endgame. I tried my best to block out what he was saying but I still heard what he said. Don’t worry I’m not a prick who is going to ruin it. Some people go so out of their way to mess up someone’s experience. Some people even went out their way to find spoilers and shout them out but I didn’t hear those.

It annoyed me and made me upset that someone is so inconsiderate to ruin a good film for some people that they have been waiting to come out for a year and have been so excited about it. I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted it ruined for him so I don’t know what goes through his mind to ruin it for someone else.

It baffles me so much at how self centred and self absorbed some people are. Only thinking about themselves and how they can get some entertainment for a few minutes without caring about how other people might feel. And not respecting other people enough to even consider now it might affect them.

Sorry this isn’t what I normally post it was just something that upset me and I wanted to get if off my chest. I’ll be back to my normal posts after this I hope you can understand my reasons for posting this.

Thank you

Hannah x