Blowing the Top Part 1

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I actually came up with this idea after watching a two part episode from 90s sitcom Wings. Imagine the reader tries to do her best to keep the team together, trying to help solve their problems but she can only taken so much before blowing a gasket. Might be some swearing in this one. Oh and I think I'll have this take place after Civil War.

It has been many stress filled weeks, but right now all you wanted was to kick back, relax, and enjoy watching a little Supergirl on Netflix; little did you know that was not going to happen anytime soon. Right when you had just sat down with the popcorn, you got a incoming call on your cell phone. Caller I.D. indicated it was Tony, so you had to answer. "You've reached the number of fellow Avenger, (y/s/n), this better be an emergency," you say with sarcasm. "It kinda is," Tony said on the other end, "Yeah that mission we went on together in Australia? Yeah turns out, the authorities are not willing to overlook the destruction we left, and they are demanding damage control."
"You're the P.R. guy you handle it," you shrugged. "(Y/ N), they know most of the damage was caused by you and they want to see you." Tony informs. "But that was an accident," you whine. "I know, but still you gotta get over to the embassy," Tony insisted. "Fine," you groan, "tell em' I'll be there first thing in the morning." You hang up and decide to shower, knowing full well you'd need to get a good night's rest.

Normally you wouldn't have minded doing something like this, but recently it feels like all these requests, demands, and all that other stuff was becoming more frequent since the Civil War incident. The team was reunited, but things just didn't feel the same. It didn't help that everyone was constantly coming up to you to help solve their problems along with all the extra stuff. Most days you just felt like you were losing the will to live.

After showering and changing into some pajamas, you have were about ready to go to bed when you hear a knock at the door. When you went to answer it, you see Peter at the door. "Peter what are you doing here, shouldn't you be at home?" you ask. "I need to borrow some handcuffs," Peter tells you. "Uh, okay," you frown, looking for some, "Peter, I don't want to sound judgey or nothing, but you seem a little a young to be doing this sort of thing." "It's not that," Peter snorts, "It's for my Uncle Ben, he's in trouble." "Okay, don't take this the wrong way, but how much trouble can the man possibly be in, seeing how he's dead and all?" you ask. "No, the place he's buried, they're gonna relocate his remains so they can turn the place into a basketball court." "So Uncle Ben will rest in peace someplace else what's the big deal?" "I don't want him to rest in peace someplace else, that cemetery is the ideal place to visit right after school, and before I head home," Peter replies, "You know people in the mayor's office right? Can't you talk to someone?" "Peter I would but I am going to be a bit busy tomorrow and-" "Please, (y/n), Peter begs, "I'll do anything, just please." "Ugh fine," you give in, not able to resist Peter's puppy dog eyes, "I'll see what I can do."

Later that night while you were sleeping, you hear a knock at the door again. You ignore it, but the knocks became more frequent, "Ugh who can be at my door this time of night?" you grumble, sleepily getting out of bed. You open it to see Natasha at your door. "What you want?" you ask flatly. "Nice to see you too," Nat said sarcastically, "We need to talk." "You have any idea what time it is?" you ask with a grumpy tone. "It'll just a sec," Nat barged inside and sat on your bed. You groan and take a seat next to her. "Okay, I'm all ears." "Well," she begins, "As you know I started seeing Bucky," "What about him?" you ask, nearly half asleep. "We've been seeing each other for the last few weeks, we've been reliving memories from our time in the Red Room, and we starting to rekindle that intimate aspect of our life." "Please tell me you didn't come here to see me right after the two of you just had sex," you close your eyes. "No, no, no," Nat quickly said, "Well...I waited after an hour or so. The thing is it wasn't quite what it used to be." "And?" you raise an eyebrow. "It was okay it just wasn't...as good as it used to be," Natasha explained, "I don't suppose you could maybe, oh I don't know, talk to him about it." "I am not getting in the middle of your sex life, Natasha," you tell her sternly, "You couldn't get me to get involved with Clint, or with Bruce, and I'm not doing it with Bucky." "Look," you tell her, "Maybe you haven't noticed but Bucky has been through a lot of shit for the last bunch of decades or so. Just go talk to him about it. Communication is important in a relationship, and I'm sure he'll understand." "And if that doesn't work?" Nat asks as you start to practically push her out the door. "See if you can convince Thor to give you the strongest bottle of Asgardian ale available," you answer before slamming the door.

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