Pietro Maximoff:

It's crazy how much one person can effect your life. Not just anyone, though: your soulmate.

They're supposedly the other half of your soul, your true love, your one and only.

Except, when you meet your soulmate, the first thing that runs through your mind is am I really going to be stuck with this guy forever?

Turns out, you are.

After saving his life from the bullets that would've killed him, he's been glued to your side, never wanting to leave you alone for more then a few minutes.

A gust of wind and a cup of coffee placed in front of you, along with the silver haired Speedster himself as you sit down in the conference room, the others watching smugly as you glare at them.

"Thank you," You say, picking up the coffee and take a sip. Natasha coughs to cover up a laugh.

"I added everything to you like it," Pietro all but sighs dreamily when you awkwardly smile at him. "Is it okay?"

"Get a room already!" Anger shots up your spine and you wince. Pietro goes from stupidly happy to ferociously annoyed as he turns, eyes blazing as Clint's grin slips off his face.

"You dare insult us? I should hang you upside down on a tree and-"

"Pietro," You gently pat his arm, his face smoothing out. "It's okay."

"But this is a suitable punishment for those who commit crimes in my country."

"Look," Taking his hand, you feel your heart flip. Being the one half of the soulmate who feels all of the emotions the other does, isn't exactly what you wanted. "He was kidding, okay? Why don't we go out to eat after the meeting."

He nods eagerly. "Yes. I would love to."

Steve Rogers:

Working part time in a shabby, old boutique isn't where you saw pictured yourself in the summer.

But you need the money, and it isn't all that bad.  Your only customers are elderly and tend to talk more then shop, and you don't mind the company.

The bell above the door rings as a customer steps inside.

"Welcome," You say, not looking up from rearranging a display until you hear a dull crash.

Setting down the boa, you hop down from the ladder and head over towards the sound.

You find a man kneeling over a coat rack, picking up jackets and shirts.

"Are you alright?" A poofy red boa slips from his arms, but he catches it, quickly draping it around his neck. "Sir?"

"Yes, ma'am, I'm perfectly alright. I'm not sure I can say the same for this.. thing, though. I'm terribly sorry."

You shrug, gather up as the clothes from the floor and set in onto a glass case filled with jewelry. "Don't worry about it. I'm rearranging the displays anyway, so it's no big deal."

The man turns, smile pulling at his lips and his blue eyes gleaming. "Could I help? With the rearranging, I mean."

You squint, taking in his leather jacket, dark shoes, the cap. "I don't know. You could be a murderer or something."

His brows shoot up. "What? I-I'm not a murderer."

You hum, taking the red boa from his neck and set it onto the manakin. "Have you ever killed anyone?"

"I, uh, well.."

The skirt in your hands falls to the floor once you realize that the man standing beside you is Steve Rogers. Captain America.

"You're Captain America," You run a hand through your hair, grimacing when you tug hard at a knot. "What are you doing in an old place like this? Looking for a new wardrobe?"

"Actually, yes," He picks up the boa and drapes it over his shoulder. "This'll do just fine."

Clint Barton:

You love the rain. Maybe it's the cold or grey skies, or the hot chocolate Clint never fails to bring home.

But as you jump up and land in a puddle, water splashing around your feet and Clint laughing, you decide that this is why you love the rain.

"I bet I can find a bigger puddle than you," Clint says, kicking at the waters sidewalk. "Whoever makes the biggest splash doesn't have to do the dishes when we get home."

You grin, throwing your hot chocolate away and pull up your jacket. "Game on, Clint."

New York is filled with pot holes, you both know that, making the competition just a little harder.

"Me first," He holds up a hand, dramatically bowing as he points to a puddle of water on the side of the street. "Ready? Here I go!"

You laugh, expecting a good amount of water to soak his pants, but he goes straight down, barley keeping his head in the air as his body disappears under the puddle.

"(Y/n)!" He shrieks, struggling to raise his arms into the air as he moves around. "Call the Avengers! Call Tony! I-I'm being eaten by a puddle!"

Tony Stark:

You're not entirely sure how you landed a job at the Avengers' HQ. You're a simply mechanic, average IQ and not the best test scores, so when you had gotten a call from Tony Stark himself, let's just say you tried(and failed) not to pass out.

You've arrived at the HQ too early, and you're pretty sure you've gone down the wrong hallway, because you end up outside where a man is stuffing his face with a pink cupcake.

When he sees you, he chokes, frosting dropping onto his shirt.

"Excuse me," Turning, you rush back inside, thankfully finding someone who points you in the right direction and find yourself in front of a large door, the word lab imprinted on it.

When you enter, you find the man who had been choking on a cupcake, pink frosting still on his shirt when he looks up and freezes.

Tony Starks eyes widen. "(Y/n) (L/n)..?"

You nod, shake his hand and stare at the frosting. "It's uh, a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for offering me this job. I really appreciate it."

"Okay, real quick," He gestures between you two. "What you just saw never happened."

Bucky Barnes:

You had never been to the nurses office before, so waking up on the cot in the corner with a pounding headache surprises you.

You're not even sure how you got there until you see bloody knuckles and a bruised face, blue eyes staring at you in worry.

"What were you thinking, stupid," Is the first thing Buck Barnes growls, leaning forward and rests his elbows on his knees. "Trying to break up a fight isn't a smart idea."

"Well, I wouldn't have had to break up a fight if you would've just listen to me," Trying to sit up, you glare when Bucky puts his hand on your back and pushes you gently. "But noo, you just had to swing first, right?"

"I heard what Tony said," Bucky huffs. "He's still trying to get with you. I'm sorry, but I couldn't-"

"Aw, you were jealous?" Taking his hand, you carefully avoid the broken skin and intertwine your fingers. "I'm touched. Still angry, but touched."

He frowns, doesn't hesitate to go down on his knees and pulls you in for a hug. "You're such an idiot, you know that?"

Natasha Romanoff:

Natasha is a spy, an assassin, and an Avenger. And, apparently, a piece of furniture made especially for you.

You're currently stretched out on the couch, leaning heavily on Natasha as she combs through your hair.

"Natasha," You say tiredly. "I've watched the Lion King so many times-"

"Yes, I'm aware."

"But I still cry when-"

"Mufasa dies, I know."

You grin, tilting your head and sigh into Natasha's neck. "Don't pretend like you don't cry too."

Natasha snorts. "Sure, whatever you say."
_____

"Don't," Natasha sniffs, wiping her eyes as you poke her side smugly. "I knew he was going to die, yet... the look of betrayal. It gets me every time."

Wanda Maximoff:

"Just go talk to her," Steve doesn't look up, continuing on his mission report as Wanda frowns. "She's really nice. Trust me."

"But what if.." Wanda folds her hands together and watches as you tap on the desk, pen moving as you absently doodle on the page you're supposed to be describing how the mission went. "What if she does not like me in that way."

"Wanda!" Peering up, Wanda finds you jumping out of your chair and plopping down in the one next to her. "Look."

Wanda feels her cheeks warm as she takes the paper. It's a drawing of herself, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, lips pulled towards one side.

"This is wonderful!" Wanda laughs when you throw your arm over her shoulder.

"Well, Steve's been teaching me. He's a really good artist, you know?"

"Oh, really? I-"

"Sorry, we don't have any time to waste!" Grabbing her hand, you hop to your feet, pulling Wanda along as you race out of the room. "We'll be late for our date!"

"D-Date?"

You nod, bouncing down the steps with Wanda staring in shock at the back of your head. "Mhm. Steve may have told me your secret."

Wanda's eyes flash red, but before she can get a word in, you stop, turn, and press a kiss to her cheek. Wanda forgets what she was going to say as you grin. "C'mon, we're going to go see this awesome movie. It's called Batman vs. Superman. Have you heard of it?"

***************

Whoa. That took me a long time. I had no idea what to do for the last chapter, so I wrote like five different things until I finally came up with all of that.

Anyways. This book is finished. That was the last chapter.

SHOULD I MAKE A BOOK 3 OF MARVEL IMAGINES. Or, or. An anime imagines book? VOTE HERE.

Marvel Imagines 3

Anime Imagines

^^^^^^^

Just to make this clear, I AM SO THANKFUL TO EVERYONE WHO HAS READ THIS BOOK AND MY OTHER HORRIBLE ONES.

I never thought I'd be able to be apart of such an awesome fandom and have super cool readers like all of you!

When I first started my Marvel Imagines book, I didn't really think it would get that popular, you know?

But now look at it. 1M views? Unreal!

I especially want to thank avadatothekedavra thefirstavenger- annie_stark and many other people who have been constantly commenting and voting on my chapters.

YOU ALL ROCK AND SHINE BRIGHTER THAN BUCKY'S METAL ARM.

Goodbye and farewell. Thank you for sticking with me till the end of the line.

-Imaginemarvel