A certain writer gets caught in a little debate about which avenger gets more requests for stories...  

Warning: Language via Deadpool

"Three? I have only three?"

"I don't have any."

"I don't know what you little bitches are whining about, I've only got one, and I just had a fucking huge movie, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Scott, don't worry about it, man. You're new. Give it time, you'll have more," Sam reassured. "But me, on the other hand, I've been around long enough now that I should have way more than three. One of 'em is even a part two to one of her older ones. I mean, it's great that they want more, but three?"

"Did you not hear me?" Wade scoffed, pulling his feet down from the kitchen table and throwing a crumpled comic book onto the top with a slam. "I just had record breaking money come in on my flick, and she's only got one goddamn fanfic request for me. One."

Scott grabbed the comic quickly and began to straighten the pages carefully, doing his best to gingerly remove the creases from it. "Hey, watch it! That's mine! I'm trying to catch up on learning about these guys!"

"You've got three just because you hang around with flag pole all day. You're in one of them only because he's there." Wade grabbed the tablet and held it in the air in front of Sam, "I think she's got a thing for Rogers and wrote these herself. I think we need to get to the bottom of this."

"What the hell are you doing with that?"

The three men froze in place at the deep warning in my tone, each of them turning to face me very slowly and cautiously. "Um...nothing, B," Scott turned back to Wade and whispered with a hiss, "give it to her!"

"Oh, I'm gonna give it to her alright. Listen here, missy," he spat, "I think we need to have ourselves a little talk about this list. It seems to be really lopsided for the old Steve-a-roo and Weiner Soldier if you ask me."

"Put it down."

"Wade, she's getting red," Sam warned, never taking his eyes from the rage building in my expression. I could feel the heat rising in my face, even though I was trying desperately to maintain my calm. But what he had in his hands wasn't mean to be seen. "Wade..."

"She can get as red as she wants, I ain't scared."

"If you don't put that down right now, I'll remove so many parts that they'll never grow back."

He was clearly unfazed by the threat as he took steps closer, now waving the list in my direction, "it has come to our attention that you might have a little tingle in the britches for our dear Captain. He seems to be the focus of a great many of your stories. He also seems to be taking up all of our content."

"I really don't have a problem with it," Scott deflected with raised hands in defeat. "I just got here, so I'm not expecting much in the way of requests just yet. I like the ones you've done, so I'm good." He took a few steps back and closer to Sam for protection, "please don't remove any of my parts."

Sam passed Scott quickly and joined me at the kitchen door, reaching out to grab my arm to bring me in closer, lowering his voice, "do you have a thing for Steve?" When I didn't reply and only kept my eyes on Wade, it did nothing but fuel his interest and belief that they were right. "Oh, shit, you do!"

"Fuck off, Sam."

"I was right?" Wade whispered in amazement, dropping the tablet with a crash on the floor, his hands slapping over his mouth. "Okay, we have to call Captain Tiny Tush." He reached into his pocket for his phone, but stopped abruptly at Sam's interruption and the panic in my voice for him to wait.

"It's Captain Little Ass," Sam corrected.

"Okay, okay...um, tell you what. If you three can keep your mouths shut around Steve, I'll write just about anything and as much you want."

"I want a smutty Steve x writer story," Sam smiled. "I bet you do too, don't ya?"

"I don't do smut," I replied. "I have friends to do that so much better than I ever could."

"Yeah, I'm gonna need those blog names pronto." Wade hurried back to the table to grab a stray piece of paper and pen, "I've got so many ideas for you two. If I can send them the pictures that I've done, they could totally get my ship sailing." He stopped and stood straight, bringing his hand to his chin with pride in his quiet tone, "the Captain of my ship is the Captain. Oh yeah, I feel a kink coming on..."