#— the obvious; tony not knowing his hair had already turned grey because he’s been a victim of a prison system for so long :/ but luckily —

[hopscorched]

my bestie likes to joke about their blorbo that he wasn’t born, rather built by his father in his garage from the spare parts (blorbo in question is an overly hardass high schooler, who, in my opinion deserves a gentler treatment, but i digress) — and it’s enough of an in-joke between us for me to steal the notion for my own nefarious blorbo rants. so, thinking about hyakunosuke in terms of him being unnaturally created, — because there are shades of that in the way he thinks of himself, i feel like. this working with the ‘walking gun/this rifle’ analogy and one more aspect of his personality which i’ll talk about later: and not to rephrase a meme, him talking about himself as of something that was created with an innate flaw, missing some crucial parts (with that triggering the spiral of his self-affirming delusions: that he can’t be the only one, that everyone else has to be capable of the same actions as him put in his situation, and if they pretend to be something of a nobler build, — what choice does he have but to try and drag them down on his level, to try to stain and corrupt them; — anything to deny this alienation) — built wrong, so to speak; and just like a weapon built for one purpose only, he can only see one possible path and one purpose to his life, no matter how self-destructive and empty this path is.

the most positive reading of his self-objectification would be how a rifle has to be put to use lest it will rust, — aimlessness would be deadly for a person like him. if theres a saving grace to hyakunosuke, it’s his perfectionism - i never saw this as a negative trait for him; and noda-sensei did call him an embodiment of chasing perfection (kodawari) — 

all that is to say, that while i understand why so many people make him a fps gamer/streamer in their AUs, i get it i really do! i don’t see this as a hobby that would present a comfortable environment for him to apply himself. he should be neither in the club, nor in cod lobby. he should be building gunpla

[pogueswrld]

*•.¸♡coming clean♡¸.•*

pairing: the Avengers x y/n

summary: y/n is coming out as a non-binary omnisexual

content/warnings: umm- anxiety, misgendering, dead naming, awkward confrontation with the Avengers.

note: when I was searching for this gif I found so many that I could use and I- I got so distracted omfg. Also make sure to check out the fit, there's a link <3 I may have shed a couple tears writing this :')

keywords: y/h/l → your hair length. y/d/n → your dead name. y/g → your gender.

today was a very special day, for multiple reasons, one of them was the fact that today is national coming out day. All day long, y/n had to bear the sight of happy fellow queers celebrating, knowing they can't do that yet.

Because even though they've come to terms with the identity of both their sexuality and gender, they haven't come out yet.

Y/N never felt pressured into coming out to the people they consider family, also know as the Avengers, but it's starting to get irritating to be misgendered every single day, it was bound for them to snap at some point. Also the fact that they might not be accepted for being who they are terrified them, they had no clue how any of the Avengers would react. It was best to keep it to themselves.

They just never expected it to be over dinner.

The second reason why today was a special day, it was Peter's graduation. He finally finished high school and got accepted into MIT, so Tony thought it was only appropriate to throw a celebratory dinner in his honor.

So y/n took their time picking out an outfit that would confused people over thier gender, a vintage striped button up tucked into a pair of grey pants and styled their y/h/l into a bun at the bottom of their head.

Y/N believed they looked pretty decent, but definitely not head-turning, the tips of their ears tinted red at the attention they gained from their entrance into the dining room at the compound. The Avengers were already seated around the table and y/n was a few minutes late, but fashionably so.

Everyone were shocked at their look, only intensifying their anxiety, then y/n locked eyes with Peter and he smiled at them, allowing them to release a hostaged breath before rushing to their seat, avoiding everyone's gaze.

"y/d/n," Natasha called out, causing y/n to clench their jaw and look up at the redhead. Nat smiled at them and nodded, "You look beautiful."

The compliment eased their nerves, relaxing their shoulders and smiled softly at her, "Thank you."

Although there was a hint of remaining shock and questioning, the Avengers decided against grilling y/n and focus on the man of the night, Peter. They let the conversations to flow freely and enjoy the dinner like a normal family for once.

By the time dessert was placed on the table, Tony's attention shifted from the Parker boy to the person sitting across of him. He smiled at y/n with a hint of mischief in his eyes, causing them to squirm under his intense stare. Tony cleared his throat and took a sip out of his champagne glass and y/n knew they were about to be interrogated.

In a moment of spiking stress, y/n reached for Steve's glass of champagne that was still full and gulped it down in two mouthfuls, causing Tony to chuckle. "so, y/d/n,"

Again, y/n clenched their jaw at the name and Natasha raised an eyebrow at the action, also noting the vein popping in their neck.

"You seem... Restless, tonight. What is it? Sad that Peter is going away for college?"

Y/N furrowed their eyebrows, why would he think that? "he doesn't leave for another two months...?" Tony nodded, "Okay then what is it? You've been on edge all day."

Damn was it that obvious?

The anxiety from earlier came back, spiking up their heartbeat and causing their palms to sweat. Y/N wipe down their hands on their pants and clear their throat, they pursed their lips and pretend to think of an answer before shaking their head.

"I- I don't know, guess I was just nervous about dinner, but it's alright." they force a smile and dart their eyes away from Tony, feeling like they'd explode if they don't.

Natasha narrowed her eyes and shared a look with Tony, deciding to test the waters, "Why were you nervous about dinner, y/d/n?" again, y/n clenched their jaw and met Peter's eyes.

He was the only one who knew about y/n, in fact, he, MJ and Ned were the first people y/n came out to.

Before they got to reply, Tony started questioning Peter. "you seem to know something about this, kid, don't you? Why don't you tell us?"

Both y/n and Peter's eyes widened as they shared a terrified glance, y/n sent a pointed one at him while shaking their head subtly (maybe not too subtle because Sam and Steve shared a look), reminding him that this wasn't his secret to tell and begging him to not say anything.

"I- I do-don't know anything s- sir," Peter stuttered, causing y/n to curse their luck and his horrible lying skills.

Peter isn't very good under pressure.

"you clearly know something." Tony pointed out the same time bucky coughed, "he knows something."

"Well come on now, I wanna hear all the juciy gossip you two have." Tony said, shifting in his seat comfortably, leaning forward like a giddy high school girl.

"there's no gossip!" y/n exclaimed, letting their eyes dart back and forth between Tony and Peter, "just some... Things. Personal things, that I'm- dealing with. And Peter's helping. No gossip."

Steve sensed that Tony was about to grill y/n again so he held up a hand to stop for a moment, "you do know you can tell us anything, right y/d/n?" He said gently, resting a hand on their shoulder.

The young avenger rolled their eyes and nodded, scoffing slightly, "Yeah I know."

"Alright, if there's anything you wanna get off your chest or whatever, we're right here-"

"Can you- just- stop? Please? Oh my goodness." y/n cut Steve off, reaching the peak of their patience, they ran a hand down their face and pursed their lips. The sudden outburst rendered everyone silent, even Peter.

He's never seen them so fed up.

"Do any of you even know what today is?" y/n snapped, "It's Peter's graduation...?" Vision wondered, eyebrows furrowed. "it's also national coming out day. All day long, I've seen people celebrate being who they are, get accepted for who they are, for who they love, and it just-" y/n paused abruptly, glancing up at Peter for support.

The boy grinned at them, nodding in encouragement. They were actually doing this, whatever happens happens then.

"I want that for myself." they stated, keeping a steady gaze on Tony and Natasha. "My name is y/n, not y/d/n. I'd appreciate if you don't call me that anymore. I go by they/them pronouns, and I'm omnisexual. Which kind of means the same thing as pansexual except it's more inclusive."

There it is, the complete and bare truth laid in front of them.

A huge weight was lifted off of their shoulders and y/n let out a breath of relief, then a wave of worry and fear wrapped around their heart as they inticipated the Avangers' reaction.

Thor was the first to react, letting out a booming laugh before standing up and patting y/n on the back, "I'm proud of you."

Next was Clint, he smiled and raised his glass of champagne with a nod. Bucky, Steve and Bruce just nodded with smirks and smiles held back, Sam hollered and poured them a glass of the alcoholic beverage, "congratulations man," he laughed, "Thank you Sam."

As they manged to bring their eyes back to Natasha, the woman was grinning at them. "Alright, I'll take it. Y/N." She said, as if testing their name and it only had her grinning wider, chuckling at some joke Sam let out. Y/N visibly relaxed at her acceptance, but there was Tony left. He was yet to make a statement, or a joke, anything.

Tony's approval seemed to be something y/n always seeked when doing anything, this wasn't much different.

"Tony?" they called out, upset by the eerie silence from him. Tony snapped out of the trance he was in and met their eyes, "Oh, yeah, right. Good for you kid, really." he said, nodding in confirmation.

His reply caused a frown to etch on y/n's face, "You don't approve." it was a statement, not a question, but Tony replied anyway. "What? No! I'm glad you're coming to terms with who you are, really, I'm proud of you. I just thought you'd have more... Dramatic news, that's all."

Y/N's face fell at his accusation, "'more dramatic'? This is very dramatic in my opinion, I just told you that I'm not y/g, and that I changed my name. Can it get any more dramatic?"

"I just thought you'd tell us you just found out you're the child of a God or something!" the genius defended himself, raising his hand in faux surrender. His words caused a wave of laughter to take over the dinner table.

That went so much better than expected.

────────────────────────────

[marvelstarwarsetc]

I’ll Be Seeing You - B. Barnes

Summary: In which the reader was in WW2 with Steve and Bucky, and she and Steve realize that Bucky is still alive during the fight on the bridge. 

Warnings: Fight scenes, Angst.

A/N: I am absolutely terrible at summaries but this has been floating around in my head for so long and I finally finished writing it. I set it up so that there could be a Part 2 if people like it enough and want me to write one. I could definitely turn this into a series if I was motivated enough to do so lol.

A ghost. That’s how Natasha had described him at the hospital, with a look of fear in her eyes that was rarely ever present on the former assassin.

Ghost was certainly a perfect way to describe him. He came out of nowhere, striking hard and fast, aiming to kill. 

His face was completely concealed under a mask and a pair of black goggles, dark hair hanging loosely around his face. He wore a black tactical suit, the left sleeve missing in order to showcase a metal arm with a red star painted amongst the silver plates. 

It was clear he had some form of the super soldier serum running through his veins, his strength and agility close to if not beating that of mine and Steve’s. He was a skilled fighter, each of his fluid movements calculated and thoroughly thought through. Each blow Steve and I dealt was dodged expertly, the assassin known as The Winter Soldier never missing a beat. Had it not been for the fact he was trying to kill us I would almost be in awe of the way he moved.

As my back collided with yet another parked car I sighed, taking the brief moment Steve had allowed me when he started another assault on the soldier to refill my lungs with the air that was just knocked out of me. Then I was back in it, striking the soldier from behind, in time with Steve’s blows at the front.

But the soldier was good, he was fast, and not nearly enough of my hits were actually landing. If they were ever landing at all. 

It was when he turned to face me that I finally got the upper hand, using the momentum from his turn against him, I slammed my fist into the side of his head. The force was enough to send him stumbling back a few steps, and it caused his goggles to drop to the ground. His eyes met mine with a murderous glare and I felt my body still completely, my own eyes widening in both horror and recognition.  

I knew those eyes. A stormy mixture of blues and greys, colder than I had last seen them. But I knew them. I knew those eyes a lifetime ago, stared into them more times than I could count. Watched various emotions pass through them the longer I knew the person those eyes belonged to. They held little to no emotion now, just pure anger. A pain resting so deeply in his stare that you’d miss it if you didn’t know the person those eyes belonged to. But I did. I knew those eyes, and they held no recognition as they regarded my own covered face. 

I wore the mask to help keep my private life private. To separate the Avenger from the person. It was bad enough when someone recognized me from the exhibit at the Smithsonian and had more questions than I had answers. The tech Tony had installed in the mask was also an added bonus, the assistance of Jarvis more than welcome in a fight. But right now, the mask felt like a mistake. 

It felt like a barrier between me and the man who fell from that train all those years ago.  

He had been dead for about 70 years. Him standing here in front of me was nearly impossible. But then again, Steve and I were both meant to be dead ourselves, and we both were standing here fighting with him now. He regarded me curiously, no doubt wondering why I had stopped fighting back, those familiar eyes taking in my relaxed stance and my arms hanging limply by my sides. He threw another punch and I could hear Jarvis’ voice in my ear reminding me that the fight wasn’t over yet and offering assistance if I needed it. I could hear Steve yelling in the background, voicing his concerns on why I was no longer fighting back. Steve was begging me to continue fighting back. But Steve hadn’t seen his eyes yet. He didn’t know.

The hits kept coming and as hard as Steve tried to fight him off of me, as loud as Steve’s shouts got for me to fight back. I couldn’t. The memories of eyes filled with hope and longing paralyzing me as my body hit the ground. 

I was running late, as usual. The briefing with Captain Rogers and the rest of the Howling Commandos once again running later than expected. We were meant to be going over the schematics of our mission for the next day, but everyone kept getting distracted by the news of the band the army was bringing in for tonight. An effort to raise the troops’ spirits. It was what everyone on the base was discussing, each of the soldiers trying to find a date for the night’s festivities. Peggy and I had already turned down several invitations from various desperate soldiers.

 Every time Steve tried to bring the attention back to the mission, Dum Dum would bring up whether or not Steve planned on asking Peggy to be his date for tonight, and all of the guys would tease the captain as he blushed helplessly. 

It was inevitable that he would ask her, that much was clear. But the guys just loved to ruffle our captain’s feathers, which would have been fine if I wasn’t meant to meet with Peggy and Howard an hour ago about about some new weapons for the mission tomorrow.

Seemingly noticing the annoyance on my face Steve’s turned to a look of recognition and he apologized for keeping me from my meeting with Peg and Stark, and dismissed me from the briefing. 

I was about halfway to my destination when a familiar voice called out after me, stopping me in my tracks and causing me to roll my eyes in mock annoyance at the pet name he refused to stop using.

“Hey, Doll! Wait up!” Turning, I watched as Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes jogged towards me with a leather bound book gripped tightly in his left hand. My journal, I recognized.

“Don’t call me that,” I said softly, for what felt like the millionth time since we had met at that gym in our home town of Brooklyn all those years ago. He smiled at me, a mischievous glint in his eye since we were both more than aware he would only continue to call me that.

“You left this on the table, you were in such a hurry that you must’ve forgotten it.”

I take it from him with a small smile and a quiet thank you, and then continue to walk towards where I knew Peggy was waiting for me. No doubt thinking of all the ways she was about to murder me for being so late. I expected Bucky to go back to hangout with the other guys, but was surprised when he fell into step beside me, his hands resting in his pants pockets as we walked. 

When the building came into view his left hand reached out and gently gripped onto my right arm, causing me to halt and turn to him. 

He looked at me softly, a longing resting in his blue-grey eyes that I had seen numerous times before. A look that was shared between the two of us more times than I could count.  

“Doll-”

“Don’t call me that.”

A laugh left his nose in a huff as the sides of his mouth raised in a smile, his eyes looking towards the winter sky before looking back to me. 

“Y/N, I actually came looking for you because I wanted to ask ya something.” He started, his voice soft as he continued to look at me with those same eyes that I couldn’t help but feel myself get lost in.

“I thought you came to give me my journal?” Another laugh, and then his eyes once again focused on me.

“I was wondering if you’d be interested in going to see the band tonight?” His voice was nervous, his eyes full of hope and something I couldn’t quite place. I knew what he was asking. I was hoping he wouldn’t.

It’s not that I didn’t want to go with him. In any other scenario I would have said yes in a single heartbeat. However, this wasn’t any other scenario. I was the only woman in the Howling Commandos, the only woman on the front lines in the entire U.S army. Getting them to accept me even after Dr. Erskine gave me the serum was almost impossible. Every day that I am here I have to prove myself. I have to be better, stronger, faster. I didn’t need to show my true feelings for another soldier and have everyone use it as a means to try and get rid of me.

And if that wasn’t enough of a reason there was the obvious one. We were in a war. A war where people died constantly and there was nothing to do but keep fighting. I had already lost my father and three brothers to this war, my twin included. I refused to let myself get close to someone and then lose them too. Losing my twin brother almost killed me. And looking into Bucky’s eyes I knew that losing him would be more than I could handle. 

Still, not being able to find the strength in my heart to turn him down directly I did what I always did. Deflected.

“I fully intend on going to the band tonight,” I stated in a matter of fact tone, my eyes betraying me when I had to look away from his stare. 

“You know how I meant it, Doll.” His voice was soft, yet steady, and his gaze never once faltered as his blue orbs bore into mine.

“Don’t call me that,” I said meekly. My eyes cast completely at our boots in the snow now, not being able to find the strength to look at him any longer. All it did was make me falter in my reserve.  

I heard him sigh, and then he said my name so softly I almost didn’t hear him. The softness in his voice cause my eyes to meet his, and his smile was kind, though it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“At least save me a dance, Doll?” 

I simply nodded my head slowly, words not coming to me in that moment. The way he was looking at me was causing my brain to malfunction, I was sure of it. I couldn’t go as his date, but what was the harm in one dance?

“I’ll see you tonight then, Doll.” 

And then he was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts before I turned around to see a smirking Peggy standing behind me, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked at me knowingly.

“Alright then, since you’ve managed to skip our meeting almost entirely I don’t see the point in trying to start it now. Stark will just have to explain things to you before your mission tomorrow. Now, we have a dance to go get ready for.” 

I smiled at my friend thankfully, before the two of us made our way to our shared tent to try and find something in her closet to wear tonight.

By the time we finally walked into the large tent the band was playing in, the party was in full swing. Men and women were dancing and laughing gleefully, something that had become a rare sight in recent years. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been to something like this, or even had worn a dress. 

Peggy had leant me a sea green number, with long sleeves and had what Peg called a “floaty A-line skirt” that came to just below my knees. It was possibly the most comfortable dress I had ever worn, which is what made me agree to keep it on even though I much rather would have put my trousers and boots back on. Peg had even done a little makeup on me, and it made me realize that I don’t think I’d ever worn makeup in my life. 

“Y/L/N, You might finally give Barnes a heart attack tonight looking like that.” Dum Dum called from behind me, making me shake my head with a light laugh as I turned to my fellow Howling Commandos. They were all regarding me with curious looks, no doubt wondering how Peg got me to agree to wear this. 

“Forget Barnes, I think I’m having one right now!” Morita clutched at his heart with a dreamy look on his face, causing Dum Dum to hit him on the back of his head with a laugh. I only chuckled at my friends’ antics.

Peggy went off to find Steve, and I found myself getting lost in the crowd searching for a familiar pair of blue eyes. 

Dum Dum must have recognized what I was doing, because he only made a sound of disapproval before taking my hand and leading me over to the dance floor, guiding me in the steps to the dance that everyone here seemed to know but me. 

"I thought you turned him down when he asked you to be his date?” Dum Dum asked me in between steps, and I rolled my eyes softly.

“I suppose I should have guessed he’d go back and tell you all of our conversation.”

“When are you gonna stop pushing him away and realize what everyone else already knows?” My friend asked me softly, knowing it was a touchy subject for me. Dum Dum knew full well why I was so reserved about admitting my feelings for a certain blue-eyed soldier. One night with a bottle of bourbon and the man had me confessing all of my greatest fears to him. 

“Timothy, you know why I don’t.” The use of his first name caused the man to let out an additional sound of disapproval as he led me through the next part of the dance. 

“Aren’t dames supposed to know how to dance? You step on my foot again and I might lose it!” He joked, my hand coming out to swat at his arm. 

“Call me a dame again and you’ll lose more than just your foot!”

Over the course of the next few songs I found myself dancing with each one of the Howling Commandos, excluding Steve, who was dancing with Peg happily. Both wore big smiles, and the sight warmed my heart and made me question myself for a moment. 

Peggy and Steve were clearly in love with one another, and it was clear that they would end up spending the rest of their lives together when this was all over. Their love for one another was so clear that everyone who took one look at them knew it, and no one thought of Peg as any less strong because of it. So why would it be any different for me? 

My thought was cut off when the song ended and the male singer took a break, a woman taking the stage in a beautiful dress, the sparkles making her seemingly shine. The band started a new song, something much slower than the last few. I let go of Jim and thanked him for the dance, before excusing myself and heading for the exit. 

We had an early mission in the morning. An important mission at that. We finally got a good lead on where Zola would be heading next, and were going to board the train and stop him before he could get to his next destination. If this mission was successful and we captured the scientist, it would give us a leg up on The Red Skull. A leg up that could possibly mean an end to this war. 

I had just exited the tent when my body collided with another, nearly knocking me off my feet before a large pair of hands grabbed my forearms and stopped my body from colliding with the snow covered ground. 

I went to apologize, but stopped when I looked up to see Bucky standing in front of me in his uniform, his hands still lightly grasping my arms. His smile overcame his entire face when he looked at me, and the sheer happiness in his eyes was enough to make my heart swell. 

“All these years and I don’t think I’ve ever seen ya in a dress, Doll.” His tone was playful, yet warm, and in that moment I couldn’t find it within myself to argue with him about that name.

“You’re late.” I informed him softly, his hands now leaving me and causing a cold feeling to fill my body from the loss of contact. Though he didn’t pull away from me, and was still so close I could feel his breath on my face.

“Had some stuff to do before tomorrow, but I made sure to come down to dance with my best girl.” 

Ignoring the fluttering in my chest I took a step away from him, reminding myself of why I couldn’t get close to him.

“I was just leaving-”

“Just one dance, Doll. You promised.” And before I could say anything Bucky took my hand in his, his right hand moving to my waist to hold me delicately, starting to sway us slightly to the new song that was just beginning to play. 

I recognized the song. It was a soft one, with a pretty melody. I think the original singer’s name was Billie Holiday, but the woman on stage sang it just as beautifully. The words reaching something deep inside of me. 

I'll be seeing you In all the old familiar places That this heart of mine embraces All day through  

I wound my free hand around the back of his neck affectionately, bringing the two of us closer than we ever had been before. From this angle I could see every shade that nestled inside of his blue eyes, the colors swirling as he looked at me with that look in his eyes that I still couldn’t place. The look that set my skin on fire every time he looked at me like that.

In that small cafe The park across the way The children's carousel The chestnut trees The wishin' well

“Doll, there’s something that I’ve been wantin’ to tell ya for a while now,” He began. A nervousness setting in his eyes and mixing with that unknown feeling. 

“What is it, Buck?” I asked, my voice in a near whisper. The nighttime air was cold, yet comforting as the soldier held me in his embrace, the band’s song wrapping around us as it floated through the air. 

I'll be seeing you In every lovely summer's day In everything that's light and gay I'll always think of you that way

“You look absolutely stunning tonight, Doll.” He let out in a breath, his nervous eyes still focusing on mine. 

“You’ve been wanting to tell me that I look stunning tonight for a while?” I joked lightly, causing him to laugh. 

“No. Well not no, you do look stunning tonight. So stunning. Absolutely beautiful, not that you’re not beautiful all the time! I think you’re always beautiful, which kind of has to do with what I’ve been trying to tell you-”

I cut him off with a soft whisper of his name, not wanting him to finish his sentence because I didn’t have the strength to hear it and then have to walk away and pretend that I didn’t.

I'll find you In the morning sun And when the night is new I'll be looking at the moon But I'll be seeing you

“Buck, Please don’t.”

“I know that you’re scared, Doll. I know and I understand it, I do. I understand it because every time I look at you, I am so terrified of losing you. I know that things are tricky right now-”

“Things aren’t tricky, Buck! We are in the middle of a war. Either one of us could die at any time. We could die tomorrow, and I can’t lose you. That’s why you can’t finish your sentence, because there’s just too much we could lose if you do.”

“Doll, Y/N. Me not saying it won’t stop either of us from losing the other. Whether I say it now or don’t one of us could still die. And don’t you think it would be so much worse to lose each other without having told each other what we both already know?”

I'll be seeing you In every lovely summer's day In everything that's light and gay I'll always think of you that way

The song continued to play but we had stopped dancing by now, just desperately holding onto each other as Bucky’s words hung in the air.

“You are everything to me, Y/N. My light, my laughter. The reason I get out of bed every morning to face another day of this war is knowing that I get to do it beside you. I look at you and I forget every bad thing that’s happening. I look at you and I’m not in the middle of Siberia fighting a war that we might not win. I look at you and I’m back in Brooklyn, watching the cluelessly beautiful girl sweep around the gym just waiting until everyone leaves so she can start throwing punches at the bag. I look at you, Doll, and I’m home.”

By the end of his confession tears were lining my face, freezing against my skin as the cold Siberian night air brushed against them. His hands let go of me and instead came up to hold my face delicately, his thumbs reaching up to brush the tears away. 

“I love you, Y/N. More than I’ve ever loved anybody else. More than someone can love another person. It fills me completely. Every ounce of my being is you. And I know that you’re scared. And I know that you probably won’t say it back to me because you’re the most stubborn person I have ever met in my life, and that’s okay. It’s okay if you can’t say it back right now. It’s okay because I know that you love me too, even if you can’t say it.” 

He finally ends his confession with a lingering kiss to my forehead, pouring so much love into that one simple gesture, and then he lets me go. He gives me one last smile before telling me he’ll see me tomorrow, and turns back towards his tent.

I'll find you In the morning sun And when the night is new I'll be looking at the moon But I'll be seeing you

I’m shocked back to reality when this version of Bucky’s fist lands a hit so hard to my face that the metal of my mask cracks, finally making me have to take it off to avoid it slicing into my skin further. 

The second the mask leaves my face his assaults stops coming. When I open my eyes he isn’t the winter soldier anymore. The look in his eyes is a mixture of hurt, anger, confusion, recognition, and that look I haven’t seen in nearly seventy years.

It’s clear that whatever Hydra’s done to him had jumbled his mind. If they hadn’t, he would have recognized Steve right away. 

I lay motionless beneath him, not daring to make a move as his mind tries to process what’s going on. I can see the confrontation going on in his head as every emotion presents itself in his eyes.

Finally, he focuses back on me and removes the mask from where it covered his nose and mouth. Physically, he has barely aged in the last seventy years. But all the innocence that remained on his face then was completely absent now. His features hardened by heartache and death. 

In the background I can hear Steve’s gasp as he finally realizes who we had been fighting and why I had stopped the moment I saw his eyes.

“Bucky?” Steve asks, drawing Bucky’s attention from me as he gets up and turns toward his once best friend.

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

[irondadfics]

I’m looking for fanfics where Peter is Tony’s biological child and he goes missing/gets kidnapped as a young child. He is raised by someone else and doesn’t know he’s Tony’s son. I’ve already read Lost Boy and Things I Almost Remember on archive of our own and I wanted to find stories with a similar plot.

WHEW! It’s kind of a long list, but we did our best finding several fics that feature both BioDad!Tony and Peter being kidnapped at a very young age. ENJOY!!

PETER IS TONY’S SON BUT THEY WERE SEPARATED WHEN PETER WAS A CHILD REC LIST

Lost Boy by winterda

Isaac Stark disappeared from a crowded park a few months shy of his third birthday. There were never any signs of him, and no arrest were ever made in connection to the case. It was as if the toddler had simply vanished off the face of the earth. Twelve years later, Peter Parker has a really bad day, which only get worse when his prints are put through the system.

Things I Almost Remember by IcedAquarius @icedaquarius31​

Peter's past is not as it appears. It all starts one day with a genetics project and slowly spirals into something Peter never could have imagined.

hydra's not a home by tempestaurora @tempestaurora​

At 6 years old, the son of Tony and Pepper Stark, Peter, is kidnapped, never to be seen again. Or, so they thought. Ten years later, while raiding a HYDRA base, the Avengers come across a new, enhanced individual, working for the enemy: in black spandex, with a tendency to stick to walls and shoot webs from his wrists, the Black Spider is a pain in the ass in more ways than one.

If They Knew All About You by MsHermia

Tony Stark had lost his son when he was only 2 years old, stolen away in broad daylight with nobody the wiser of what exactly happened. Years later, Tony has just made it through the disaster with Ultron. He is trying to keep himself and the team together but relationships are strained and tempers are running high. Then a random turn of events leads to his path crossing with that of a particular vigilante. They are strangers to each other, or so they think.

Peter Parker is on top of the world. After a few shitty years, losing his parents and then losing his Uncle, things are finally looking up. Sure he lives in a crappy little apartment with his Aunt but he might have just found his mission in life.

------

This is an AU story obvious by some of the tags. I'm starting out a few weeks after Age of Ultron took place. Civil War will be a thing. Other than that I'm not too concerned about sticking to every canon detail and storyline.

Finding Their Way Home by ElliahRose

Peter Benjamin-Edward Stark went missing on a Tuesday. For months the entirety of the New York police department, as well as anyone else the Starks could convince to join, searched for the tot. He was only three when he was taken and for four months, two weeks, and four days, Tony Stark and Pepper Stark (nee Potts) worried and fretted over their beloved child.

Peter Benjamin-Edward Stark was murdered on a Friday. A ransom call gone wrong spelt the end of the child’s life. The world grieved as the kidnappers gleefully told the devastated parents they’d find his body in the morning.

They never did.

Twelve years passed and the family was still grieving, and Tony Stark worked tirelessly to find his only child’s killer and gain justice for his son.

Meanwhile Peter Parker was having literally the worst day ever. He just wanted to help make the world a better place, but instead he got stabbed. That's just his luck, isn't it?

missing, presumed dead by hailingstars @hailing-stars

They hadn’t had a funeral for Peter.

There hadn’t been a casket or a service inside a church.

There had been, before Tony decided in his heart that Peter was gone, candlelight vigils and pleas on the media for whoever had taken him to bring him home. Neither of those did any good. Neither of those brought Peter home.

OR

Tony Stark's son gets kidnapped when he's two. Twelve years later he comes back.

I told you to be better (and you became the best) by HaruK

Tony was blessed with a healthy baby boy, and for once in his life, was actually happy. Until everything derailed and he had to send his son away to keep him safe, because those related to the Stark family, one of the worlds biggest and most targeted families in the black market, always end up hurt. With a new name and identity that Tony himself doesn't know, the young baby was wiped off the map, his existence erased, never to be heard of again. . Years later, Anti-hero Iron Man meets a local superhero vigilante and Tony becomes surprisingly close with young Peter Parker.

The Curly-Haired Boy In The Paper by Svn_f1ower @svn-f1ower​

When Tony sees the blurry, grey scale photograph of someone he thought he had lost years ago, he follows the trail to a newspaper company, to a hospital, to an adoption agency, to the police station and finally to May Parker's house.

hold him tight & don’t let go by jessicagoddamnjones @farremoved

Peter Stark went missing when he was four years old.

Eleven years later, he’s found.

Only now he’s Peter Parker by day, Spider-Man by night, and he doesn’t like the idea that his entire life is a lie.

Rise from the Ashes; Just to See You Again by Mintstream @iwritedumbshit​

Tony Stark didn't expect Mary Fitzpatrick, or the news she delivered. He didn't expect that he would become a father, or that he would actually enjoy it. He didn't expect Penny to love him just as fiercely as he did her.

He didn't expect to lose her so soon.

In the wake of the loss of his daughter he tried--tried to do right by her. He became Iron Man, he was an Avenger, he protected his world because he couldn't protect his daughter, but through it all, he hoped to be reunited with his daughter.

He didn't expect to be alive when he was.

AKA the biological daughter kidnapping AU no one asked for. Hope you read, and hope you enjoy.

Updates on Saturdays.

Coming Home by inkinmyheartandonthepage

AU – Peter Stark was kidnapped when he was just three years old. Tony and Pepper never stopped looking for their boy. Years later, Peter finds his way back home.

A Change In What We Knew by Imissyoutoo @imissyoutoo

Tony scoured the floor behind Steve as though his one-year-old son had somehow crawled to him, before finally, he looked up. The realisation dawned on him like an eclipse; the decaying darkness hiding the sun. Hiding his son. Because his boy wasn't there.

”Where is he? Steve? Where's my son Rogers?!” At only a year old, Tony Stark’s son is taken, leaving him shattered. Little does he know, his journey to find what is lost only begins twelve years later. In the most unlikely of places, and all because of two words.

”Hey kid.”

I Found You by honestchick

Tony had a son; he raised him for two years until someone kidnapped him. Tony was devastated and heartbroken. And who would have thought in Starks Expo, he’d be able to see his son once again?

move back home forever by chasingflower @evahmohns

The results say he’s not actually Peter Parker.

They say he’s Peter Stark. You know, the one who’s been missing for 10 years.

Yeah. He knows.

Soon You'll Get Better by lostinmorewaysthan1

Peter Stark was kidnapped. That was all anyone knew. He vanished into thin air, no traces left behind, when he was eight years old.

Six years later, on one of the final raids on the HYDRA bases, they find an enhanced assassin, with super strength and the ability to climb walls. No one imagined that it would be Peter. Least of all Tony.

With no memory and brainwashed by HYDRA, Peter Stark goes home and tries to recover.

Let This Road Be Mine by CommunicationFlail

Ten years ago, five year old Peter Stark disappeared. When the trail went cold, the case was closed. Now new evidence has been brought to light and Tony will stop at nothing to get his son back. No matter how many fakes he has to meet. His son is out there, and he will find him.

Return to me, the one I love so endlessly by SuperHeroTiger @superherotiger

James Edwin Stark was born on the 10th of August 2001, and for the first time in his life, Tony Stark cried tears of joy.

All the fears, all the dread that had once consumed his soul washed away with a single look at the baby’s gentle features, so familiar and yet so distinctly unique at the same time. Tony made many promises that day. Promises to love his son, to protect him, to always be there for him.

On the 10th of August 2002, James Edwin Stark was stolen in the middle of the night, and his father’s world came crashing down. Shattered and alone, Tony whispered the same promise he’d made to his son the day that he was born.

‘…My love for you is endless…’

Fourteen years later, hidden away from the world in a forest of pine, Peter Beck would dream of a day he might get to see the towering city of New York. And when a wounded stranger stumbles onto their property a week out from his birthday claiming to be a famous billionaire from New York, his dream might just come true.

Once Lost Now Found by FreckledAvenger11

Peter Parker was just trying to get used to life without his uncle. He wasn't expecting to find a familiar face in an article about Tony Stark's missing son. Follow Peter on his journey to discover just who he is. Is he Peter Parker? Is he Spider-Man? Or is he someone else entirely? Just who is he and what secrets died along with his parents in that plane crash?

So He Walks The World Alone by Miola014

This is a story 'bout a broken boy With his headphones in just to block out the noise Of everyone around him telling him the way to go So he walks the world alone Wondering if it gets better Or if he's always gonna feel empty forever So he gets lost tryna find another way back home As he walks the world alone

Or

The Kidnapped Peter Stark AU that I promised y'all!

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 1

Rating: Explicit. 18+

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Bad girls are sad girls! Always wondered what goes through the mind of a spoiled, rich but intelligent and perceptive teenager? Have you found yourself craving that adrenaline rush, the danger of a forbidden fruit? Okay. That was cheesy as hell. Gross.

Let's try again. Sarcasm? Check. Vine references? Hell yes! Crude humour? Check. Blunt honesty? Double check. We're living in a Lana del Rey song, ladies.

The author doesn't actually condone codependent relationships in real life. This is a filthy little fantasy. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub​ @mostly-marvel-musings​

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! She deserves all the love 💙

Pining. I was pining after Stark and it made me upset. I thought I was better than that. Better than acting the part of a lovesick puppy, begging for scraps of attention- a kind word, a pat on the shoulder, a blanket thrown over me in my sleep. Even if he was my Mount Olympus, I wasn't exactly on board with starting the whole damn journey in the first place.

Most of all, I hated being a cliché. I tried my best to avoid showing how I felt and with time, I think I excelled at it. I am really good with things if I really put my mind to it. Was it a blessing, or was it a curse? Only the future will tell. I try not to think about it, as I prefer not to stress out too much. Peter was the anxious kid and I was the calm one. I was the Ying to his Yang. He flipped his shit often and I always calmed him down and cleaned up after him. No complaints there, Pete is pure and precious and I would kill everybody and then myself if he actually got hurt.

I'm only a year older than him and that year feels like an uncrossable bridge to me. We get along like a house on fire and I delight in the way he starts smiling when we're paired together for a project. Deep inside I'm sure he thinks of me as one of his best friends, his homies but-and there's always a but-I can't reciprocitate that. He goes to decathlon after school with his wholesome BFF duo, I go to a local dive bar with a fake ID I'd made sometime when I was about 15.

Peter has everything I wish I've ever had. Good for him. I'm not going to mess that up, no matter how much my angst demands I throw a tantrum and become, like, a supervillain or something.

I banter, instead. I chit-chat. I laugh and I repeatedly make a joke out of myself. Nobody suspects a thing, and I'm not surprised. People always see what they want to see. I've been the weird loner since middle school. Not the sad kind, of course, my pride wouldn't let me. I'm too good at things to be completely ignored. Teachers adore me, the event planning committee approaches me every year with tentative pleas for advice. The list goes on and on; what they don't understand is that it's just High School. Another year and I'll be out of there and nobody will be wiser.

I feel like a liar every time I'm excited. Because I'm not that - I don't care about their stupid field trips or collaborative projects. My mind is five steps and two hops ahead of that bullshit. It has to be or I just won't make it in the world.

"Parker-pen, Mr. Stark. G'day, sirs," I nodded, entering the lab, looking straight ahead. They both were hunched over... Something vaguely mechanical and I was terribly, horribly hungover. Saturday night was Science night but I'd gone to bed around 2PM after a party ran way too late.

"Hi," and "Powerpuff girl," came from them respectively, and they didn't even lift their heads.

I wondered if I could just skedaddle and leave them to their big brain time. "Is this a bad time? I can come tomorrow instead," I immediately regretted speaking, even to my own ears my voice sounds scratchy.

"No, actually, Dr. Ban-Bruce-wanted to talk to you," Peter mumbled out half-coherently. Tony kept ignoring me and I was fine with that. The less temptation I have the less trouble there will be.

"I'm not playing with his zucchini again," I groaned, causing the intricate pile of metal to squeak sadly as Pete tripped over his own damn body, jostling the prototype in the process. I could have sworn the room got several degrees hotter from the boy's blush alone.

Tony cackled, shuffling away from the newly ruined prototype. "He won the damn contest, you should've seen the judges faces," The engineer's grin threatened to split his face in half. I poked at my phone in muted interest. "Hold up, Friday has a recording. I definitely recorded the thing."

A holo-screen popped up. Tranquil scenes of a local fair, gourds and other assorted vegetables of various grotesque sizes were scattered throughout the square. An unmistakable mop of curly greying hair posed proudly next to a zucchini half the size of Hulk - I was fairly certain genetically engineering the plant was cheating and warned him so but somehow Banner managed to persuade the judges into letting him participate, and ultimately win, the competition for the Biggest Zucchini. Some of them were quite shocked at the size of that thing and well - well, their glances were quite contemplative to say the least.

"Damn, Tony, that blonde chick's face tells me all I need to know," I gave a lopsided smirk in the engineer's general direction. That was our thing, you see? He called me these ridiculous cutesy nicknames and asked me about getting my nails done or going to the mall and I'd make salacious comments and go on an occasional flirtatious spree. That was comfortable. We both enjoyed making Peter blush and giggle like the little schoolboy that he was.

"Our Brucie bear is a freak, don't let him tell you any different, Princess," Tony winked at me.

"Oh, I know all about it, Tones," I suggestively wiggled my eyebrows. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Peter groan and palm his face. I briefly bumped my knuckles to Tony's outstretched hand and made my way to the adjacent lab that hosted the second resident crazy scientist.

"Bruce?"

"Oh, hi there, come on in," He smiled warmly at me and I relaxed, shrugging off the tension in my limbs that seemed to appear every time Tony was around me. Banner's soft, friendly nature always made me feel welcomed and appreciated.

We made small talk as I threw on a lab coat and some protective glasses and discarded my bag in the far corner, away from any possible explosions. I congratulated him on his recent victory - here is when I say that despite what most will say, Banner has a serious competitive mean streak and isn't afraid to get down and dirty when it comes to matters of his personal pride.

That's what makes us alike, I think. I have too much dignity and self-respect to walk around Tony with stars in my eyes and hang around his neck like yesterday's tie.

The quiet, even pace of doing lab work made me completely lose track of time. Some time passed as I felt the crick in my neck become noticeable, and the deep ache in my calves from standing and dancing yesterday worsened. I hopped onto the nearest table, hunched over a tablet, eyes skimming over research articles - most of it didn't register at all in the wake of a dull throb behind my temples. My hair limply hung over my face - I had to wash it to get rid of the stench-hard liquor and cigarettes - but I was way too lazy to style it properly.

I ignored the swaying strands until a large palm gently tucked them behind my ear, a white lab coat coming into my field of view. "You okay?" Banner's quiet voice interrupted my reading. I lifted eyes enough to see he was wearing a dorky button-up in some gross shade of blue under the lab coat. His eyes were affectionate behind thinly rimmed glasses.

"Rough Friday night?" He questioned.

I chuckled. "Yeah, I'm hungover as fuck." There was no point in hiding the obvious; I'm sure the bags under my eyes already had tattled on me.

He chuckled, too, leaning his hip against the table, one broad arm coming to wrap around me in a hug. Usually he wasn't so touchy-feely; but I wasn't complaining. Banner was really, really warm. "I'll spare you the lecture on underage drinking," He said with another chuckle.

"Yeah, it's pretty pointless. You'd be three years too late."

A deep sigh left him, both of his arms wrapping around me in a comfortable embrace. I rested my chin on his shoulder, trying my best to really avoid showing how touch-starved I was. I was a hundred percent sure they all figured out my family life was difficult; the last thing I needed was their pity.

"Y'know, we should sit down and talk someday," He said after a brief moment of hesitation. "About your future. College, maybe?"

I gave a non-committal hum, basking in the warmth of the hug, staring straight ahead with unseeing eyes - behind the glass divide, I could faintly distinguish Tony's and Peter's shapes, still bent over that bench the pile of metal.

"You have a lot of potential," Banner continued, his tone developing a gently admonishing hint. "I understand if you want to take some time off from your studies but I'd rather you succeed and not let all that potential go to waste," He finished, patting me on the back with a gentle hand.

I tried not to preen under his touch. "Are you attempting to guilt-trip me over a party, doctor Banner?" I teased him, expecting the smile that I felt being hidden by my hair. Sometimes I felt that I could read the man like an open book, he was so earnest about his interactions.

"I just - we want you to stay safe, okay? Don't blow your future for a little bit of fun," He shrugged carefully.

"Okay, Bruce," I simply replied, meaning it this time

He kept hugging me, running his hand over my back absentmindedly. Probably thinking about his recent science bender. I wasn't upset: my own brain tended to get tangled in personal projects, too. I had only one complaint and it was that the cuddle was making me sleepy.

I yawned, startling the man. Pulling away from the hug wasn't really an option. He was broad and quite strong, probably courtesy of the Hulk and radiation in his blood.

"Why don't we put you in a guest room for tonight?" He inquired and I nodded. "Call your parents for me, okay?"

"My mother is in Vancouver for the week and I doubt she would care anyway," I rolled my eyes. "She's in the middle of some shitstorm with OsCorp and their marketing department." If anything, I was grateful my mother was preoccupied with her job. Being around her was like hanging out on top of an iceberg in the far end of the ocean.

I felt Bruce's frown. His body tensed briefly, blink and you'll miss the hunch of his shoulders. "What about your dad?"

I cringed. "He's been in Ibiza since the season opened, no doubt snorting miles of coke and... " I hesitated. "You can guess the rest."

My dad was kind of a dick, but I don't blame him at all for being the way he is. My parents have been married for twenty years. They were happy, once - I saw their college pictures with my mother's bright smiles and bushy hair, and my dad's terrible fashion sense and their dog, a funny little runt with an atrocious name. Then mother had me and for a while, they were happy too, but it lasted about until she landed her first prospective job. Kind of cliché.

Bruce sighed again. "Okay. You hungry?"

"No, I'm not going near food until tomorrow. Nu-uh," I fake-retched next to his ear, making Bruce shiver and playfully pinch my side.

"It'll help with your hangover. Doctor's advice."

"You're not even that kind of doctor," I laughed, very gently poking him back, somewhere around his stomach. He squirmed.

"I have seven PhDs," Bruce smiled as he rested his chin on top of my head as he adjusted his torso to prevent my fingers from reaching his ticklish spots. I poked him again in retaliation, fully enjoying the snort and squirm I caused. Soft™. "Let's go get you settled in," Bruce, seemingly without any difficulty, picked me up, propping me against his hip like a toddler. It probably looked awkward but what the hell, I haven't been carried around since I can remember myself. My legs wrapped around his hips for balance, butt resting on his forearm.

"You're a showoff," I couldn't help but snort, getting a lopsided smirk in return.

He made his way over to the elevator with me dangling and examining my nails in an expectant fashion. Tony's jokes aside, I really enjoyed getting them done and weird colors were a quest of entertainment for me. I obviously couldn't have them very long because I worked in a lab so I chose outrageous prints and decorations instead. This week, each of my nails had a different style - thankfully my aesthetician was professional enough to make it look somewhat put together even if it took a good chunk of my allowance and an hour long Uber ride to get to her salon.

I noticed the dimmed lights in Tony's lab and none of Peter's usual mess scattered on the tables, figuring he'd already left. Stark himself stood propped against a table, watching something, smoothie in hand.

For only a brief moment, I let my eyes rake over his body, his beautiful, sculpted physique hugged by a pair of fitted jeans and an old Led Zeppelin tee. Tony's handsomeness wasn't obvious, it wasn't in-your-face kind of appearance like Captain America's, but the engineer was built sturdy and his arms - the only bare part of him - were riddled with scars. He used his strong, bulky body for work.

I turned away before I got too ahead of myself. Bruce smelled like lab equipment and rubbing alcohol, something that made me sober up and snap out of my daydream before Stark took notice and started teasing me about ogling him. My once-over lasted barely three seconds yet with Tony's genius, I always had to be on my toes.

I saw movement in my peripheral. Banner waved before entering the elevator - at Tony, probably, so I looked back, seeing the man watching us, content replaced with a contemplating frown. I waved at him, resting my cheek on Bruce's shoulder. "Tony's having a big mood," I noted quietly in the scientist's ear.

"You know Tony," Bruce sighed, adjusting his hold on me as the car ascended to the housing floors. "His brain runs a mile a minute and he can't make sense of it for the biggest part. Give him some time and he'll be back to his annoying self."

I didn't see Tony as annoying in any way, but then again, I was severely biased. The billionaire was quirky venturing into absurd but also clever and brilliant.

We had reached our destination and Bruce carefully set me down on my feet once the door to my room was open. A large queen bed, TV and another door to an adjacent bathroom. It was really simple but luxurious nonetheless - I had the exact same carpet at home, having heard my mother bitch about it's cost after seeing me spill soda on it way too many times.

"I'll let you get settled in. Ask Friday if you need something," Bruce awkwardly shuffled his feet, taking off his glasses and briefly examining them before putting them back on again. "Breakfast here is on the 74th floor starting around 7AM, someone will probably get you around nine if you sleep in," He finished, giving a shy tilt of his lips.

"Thanks, Brucie-bear," The nickname easily slipped from my lips. I didn't resist the urge to hug the kind scientist, quickly wrapping my arms around his middle, delightfully sighing when he immediately returned the gesture.

"Good night, Princess," I had to suppress a happy squeak when the man kissed my forehead before retreating and closing the door behind himself. A quick shower and a quest to find a power outlet to plug my charger into preceded my less than graceful flop into the bed. It felt like sleeping on a cloud, honestly, it had nothing on my mother's orthopaedic memory foam mattresses. I passed out faster than I’d ever had.

[sword-of-summer]

okay so i did a breakdown and prediction for WandaVision before the show started and It's Turning Out To Be True, Guys, so I'm posting it below and just tell me if it's okayish or not-

Now, WandaVision marks the beginning of Phase 4 of the MCU, and it is in itself a pathmaking event because it shows normal life without the original Avengers. Now, the show explores Wanda's mental state after Vision's death in Infinity War, and how she uses her Chaos magic to create a 'pocket reality' where things are just what she wants them to be.

The entire series is set over 6 decades, and has a running theme of couples living in sit-coms throughout the years, the late 50s, the 60s, the 70s, the 80s, the 90s, the 2000s and present. Now, my theory is that WandaVision is the beginning of a Multiverse Act that continues in Spiderman - 3 and culminates in Doctor Strange in The Multiverse of Madness.

Now, as for the shots within the trailer, it seems that Wanda and Vision are changing their localities as time passes, and that is through the decades I mentioned above. Now, all the posters have this unique red-blue television static rip in the upper left corner, which is also the transition effect used by the editors whenever Wanda warps reality and tries to adapt to the passing, and this actually represents Wanda's warped reality fading away and opening up a multiverse. In the late 50s poster, there isn't much that suggests anything, just we know that this involves the b/w part of the show where Wanda and Vision are a newly married couple and Vision as a human, which is strange, because in all trailers/posters after that time, Vision is shown as the Android he is, from the 60s black and white where Wanda acts as Vision's assistant in the magic show, and now, the next transition is the most interesting for me because they shift into the era of coloured television and during this warp, Wanda becomes pregnant and slips into the stripes of the 70s - another fact is that the upper left rip is not normal, not it is a wood panel torn apart, like by a demon, which leads me to the obvious villainous entity for the show, Mephisto.

This marks Wanda's descent into confusion as to who is in control of this warped reality, because it may not be Wanda, it may be some evil entity who is using Wanda to get into MCU's Earth-199999 and is proved later when Jimmy Woo's voice is heard out of the radio saying "who is doing this to you?". Now, the 80s poster has a ton of references in the 2 paintings it has, one being a hybrid phoenix chicken, aka representing Vision, who here is both a hybrid between human and metal, and like a Phoenix brought to life by Wanda's magic from the ash he was left in by Thanos, and the second bird is a wren from Australia with varying plumage which is like Wanda, because her magic clashes with life in the same way. The next 90s poster is the most indicative too as this is the time where they have the twins, Wiccan and Speed, but interestingly, there's a picture on their wall with three, yes, three not two eggs, which is another reference to the fact that snarky Mephisto has snuck up into this reality using Wanda's magic, also the TV still here is of them in their original Avengers' goofy hallowe'en costumes, and the last shot is a trailer and poster mix where Wanda races out into their frontyard but there are 2 small bikes parked, meaning that is the 2000s where they live as a family of four, but what Wanda doesn't realise that Mephisto's using this fake family to claw his way into this reality and wreak havoc.

Some other shots that stood out to me were of Monica Rambeau constantly transitioning from friendly neighbour to outright "I don't know who (I am)", then the character of Agnes who I suspect is none other than Agatha Harkness from the West Coast Avengers comics where Mephisto, yet again, played with Wanda's chaotic magic and in a way it also merges with the House of X comic series where Wanda yet again creates a pocket reality (I mean, what is up with all the reality stuff) - another interesting thing is the beekeeper seen in the second trailer, which I propose is a reference to the way in which we make honey commercially, wherein the queen bee is kept incharge of a beehive with her subordinates, and she thinks that she is in charge, but the actual person benefiting from this is the beekeeper looking from above the hive, collecting the honey, just like it is here where Wanda thinks she is the queen but in reality it is Mephisto the Beekeeper looking from above the pocket reality using Wanda's brand of Chaos magic to enter into this reality.Â

I believe that the base of this entire series by which it will continue into the wider MCUÂ is The Mind Stone, because it was The Stone that gave Wanda her powers and also to the two men she loved the most - Vision and her brother Pietro. Now, there is an amazing amount of screen time given to shots of the Mind Stone in the trailer, the most intriguing of which is a tired Wanda with greyish hair looking up at the Stone with slivers of blue around it - this is the incident where Wanda received her Enhanced powers from Stucker is Sokovia and this indicates that there will be some flashbacks to earlier memories which may involve Quicksilver returning. Now, the Mind Stone is the smart one, so it has a certain intelligence which it imparts to those affected by it, as is evident in Wanda's Chaos magic and tele-abilities, Tony Stark's vision of the Earth ravaged and the Avengers dead, and maybe even Thanos's curse of Titan's fate. Now, for sure, the mind stone has been destroyed but this does not mean it hasn't already affected given the Universe changes.

Now, back in 2015, Marvel wasn't allowed to use the term "mutants" but now with the Disney-Fox merger, yes they can introduce the idea of mutants with Wanda and Quicksilver as the first in Sokovia, and then Wanda's Chaos-Mephisto born mutant kids Wiccan and Speed which of course may tie to the New Mutants storyline. Also, my theory is that mutants are made by a combination of both their mutant gene and exposure to cosmic radiation, just like Wanda was exposed to the Mind Stone. Also, the mutant gene may exist in specific closeted spaces of the earth like Sokovia, or just for the sake of an example, in Chernobyl cause well the incident. Now these mutant genes become activated on exposure to radiation, and well we have had Four Omega Level Cosmic Infinity Snaps by Thanos, Thanos, Hulk and IronMan, and there is plenty of reason to suggest that this may have triggered the mutant abilities. That is my first theory.

The second one involves Wanda unleashing her chaos magic in an exponential wave at the end just like she did in Age Of Ultron, maybe because she realises that in reality, Vision is dead and manipulation won't help, and in grief she lets out her power that rips upon the Marvel Earth 199999 to the Multiverse which will continue later for Doctor Strange and SpiderMan to put back to normal. This mega event was teased in the trailers where the S.W.O.R.D. helicopter escapes from a wall of red television like static energy, and yes, I expect S.W.O.R.D. to be fully involved in the last part of the show headed by Jimmy Woo and Darcy cause Darcy has had encounters with otherworldly beings and thus may be consulted here. The last act will culminate in Wanda and Vision rising back up to their original title of the Avengers and fighting Mephisto to stop him, but something turns and thus Wanda/Mephisto releases that wall of Magic to wreak havoc.

Also a side note - Vision will also play the act of a realist in the show where he makes Wanda realise that this is not the real earth and he realises that the Eastside/Westside area they live in as well as the people there are unusual, not real, but at the end comes to his usual humane proposition that they save them and the reality from the demon trying to wreak havoc.

TL;DR Wanda creates a pocket reality where she lives with Vision, maybe reincarnating him using her brand of magic in the grey android left after Infinity War, and as the decades pass by, their reality deteriorates due to the Satanic entity that is Mephisto, making his curses seem like blessings, but at the end Wanda and Vision try and stop this reality shredding with S.W.O.R.D and that leaves us with an indecisive future of the mutants, Vision's reincarnation(like said by Banner in Infinity War)/Vision's death and the coming of the Multiverse into focus.

That's it, I guess.

Sorry a bit long ik but i do this.

Enjoy?

Thanks for reading...

tagging @aredhel-of-gondolin cause it was in that chat i realized i have a blog ugggh why am i so stupid

[hale-13]

Hold Fasts

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 11 - Whipping

“Is that really all you got?” Peter asked, spitting out a mouthful of blood and one of his incisors in the direction of his kidnapper. A few droplets of blood landed on the man’s hands to mix with the blood that was already dripping from his brass knuckles. The tooth clinked across the floor until it landed beside his foot - Peter really hated when his teeth got knocked out but at least this time it was one of the fake ones that had already been replaced and not one of his actual teeth.

Words: 2220, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Teen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Peter Parker, Tony Stark

TW: Whipping, Torture, Kidnapping, Blood

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“Is that really all you got?” Peter asked, spitting out a mouthful of blood and one of his incisors in the direction of his kidnapper. A few droplets of blood landed on the man’s hands to mix with the blood that was already dripping from his brass knuckles. The tooth clinked across the floor until it landed beside his foot - Peter really hated when his teeth got knocked out but at least this time it was one of the fake ones that had already been replaced and not one of his actual teeth.

“Bored already?” The man asked in a light voice, punching Peter across the face again and opening up a cut on his cheek from the sheer force of the hit.

“I have a short attention span,” Peter croaked, blowing another globule of blood out of his nose to drip down onto his already ruined shirt. Masked Goon Number One’s mask crinkled in obvious disgust and Peter smiled at him. He could tell by the coppery taste in his mouth that his remaining teeth were covered in blood – surely making for a gruesome image.

Peter, definitely the unluckiest kid in Queens and maybe all of New York, had been snatched literally right off the street on his way to school the day before. Unfortunately for him as well, his kidnappers clearly had a modicum of common sense because they had not only divested him of all of his tech but they had to have disposed of it somewhere on the way to their cliché super secret base (read: abandoned warehouse – so unoriginal). At least that’s what Peter figured since Tony hadn’t burst in within a few hours of him being missing.

Even more unlucky – they had figured out he had enhanced strength and had compensated with heavy duty cuffs that kept him chained against the concrete wall. So far there had been no mention of his arachnid alter-ego so he had to be thankful for small miracles he supposed.

“If you would just answer the question-,” the man started, an edge of frustration to his voice.

“Not gonna happen.” Peter said firmly, his tone filled with steel in juxtaposition to the light smile on his face.

“Stubborn,” the man in front of him muttered before nailing Peter in the stomach. He grunted but didn’t make another sound, he really didn’t want to give them the satisfaction when he had been doing so well at controlling himself. So far their questions had ranged from wanting information on FRIDAY’s systems to the blueprints for the Arc Reactor. Peter had played dumb for a while until they made it clear that they knew about his connection to Tony and them he just started denying them outright. “Why don’t you think on it for a while. We’ll get back to you later.”

“Won’t change my answer,” Peter snarked back as the man left the room, slamming the door in an odd display of irritation and leaving Peter in darkness. Finally alone, Peter let himself dangle from the chains holding him, his shoulders screaming in protest and his back spasming as it took his weight.

“C’mon Tony,” he thought, letting his eyes slip closed. “Where are you?”

——————————————

“My guys tell me you’ve been pretty uncooperative. And after we provided you with such luxurious lodgings – this is top of the line you know,” a new man said, pushing the heavy steel door open hard enough it hit the wall with a bang and startled Peter awake from his light doze.

“Eh they’re pretty average,” Peter said shrugging and trying to keep the sleepy slur out of his voice – he really didn’t need to sound any younger than he probably looked. “Maybe a four out of ten on Yelp. I could be persuaded to bump it up to a five if you’d take these cuffs off though. A six if you offered a decent room service selection.”

“Tempting,” the man told him. “How about a trade? You tell me how to get past Stark’s firewalls and I’ll let you out of the cuffs?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Come on Marty! How many times do I have to tell you assholes no before it sinks through your thick skulls?”

The man blinks at him in surprise and confusion. “Marty?”

“You look like a Marty,” Peter shrugs. “It’s not like any of you have introduced yourselves. Its pretty poor manners you know.”

“They told me that you were intelligent but you clearly aren’t smart enough to save your own skin,” Marty told him nonchalantly. “Either that or you have no self-preservation instincts.”

“The second one,” Peter agreed with a nod, Mr. Stark had told him the same plenty of times when he was patching him up after patrol.

“Right then. Well we’ll just have to up the ante a little. Get him prepared.” Peter’s eyes narrowed as two of Marty’s henchmen came into the room and wrestled Peter until he faced the wall, arms twisted uncomfortably, and cuffed his ankles to the floor. “Just remember: we can stop at any time, all you need to do is answer the question.” The man turned and left the room, pausing at the door. “Oh and its Nicholas by the way, not Marty.”

“Don’t get your hopes up Nicky!” Peter called after him as he left the room, grunting when he was punched in the stomach.

“God I wish we could gag you,” Henchman One said under his breath as he efficiently slipped his knife into the back of Peter’s shirt and cut it clean down the middle, leaving it hanging open in the back and slipping down his shoulders to pool in the crook of his elbows. Every hair on Peter’s body stood on end as goose bumps rose up on his arms and neck and he let out an involuntary shiver.

“What are you doing?” Peter questioned, renewing his struggles and trying to break the cuffs or pull them out of the wall. Neither man answered him. “Hey shit-stick I’m talking to you!”

“You know? I’m really going to enjoy this,” he heard one of the men mutter before there was the sound of something cutting through the air and then his back lit up in a sharp sting. Peter gasped in a breath as his lungs seized. “Well that shut you up.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Peter croaked as his back lit up on fire again and his knees went weak.

“I’m sure you can figure it out you little brat,” Henchman One said, just barely popping into Peter’s peripheral vision as the whip cut across his back again. “Scream if you want to answer the question and make it stop.”

Peter grit his teeth and tried to hold in the scream that wanted to tear out of his throat when his back was hit the fifth time. By the seventh he could feel blood start to pool at the waistband of his jeans. He nearly bit through his lip on strike number twelve and he lost count after that – he’s unsure when he finally gave in and started to scream.

———————————————

“Come on Pete, focus up buddy,” a warm voice said just on the edge of Peter’s consciousness. “This isn’t a good look kiddo.”

Fingers tapped on his face incessantly and Peter groaned, allowing his head to loll back on his neck in the opposite direction to get away. “G’away,” he mumbled out, unable to speak louder than a whisper without his throat throbbing in agony.

“No can do Bambino,” the voice said, hands running through his hair and maneuvering him to be more upright, his chest leaning against something warm and solid. “But if you open your eyes for me I’d be willing to negotiate getting you out of here. What do you say?”

Peter huffed out a breath of exertion and slit his eyes open. Everything was a little blurry but he could clearly make out the comforting blue glow of the Arc Reactor from where the Iron Man suit stood sentry behind Tony Stark. The man was leaning Peter’s chest against one of his shoulders to keep him upright and was staring down at him with a pinched expression.

“Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter said, letting his eyes slip closed again and leaning more fully into his mentor’s side. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“I’d ask if you frequented dumps like this but I’m honestly afraid of the answer,” Tony told him lightly, trying to joke but falling flat. “Think you can stand buddy? I can’t really carry you and I figured you might protest the gurney.”

Peter let out a huff and let his head drop to rest in the crook of his mentor’s neck. “I can walk.”

“Try to lean as much weight as possible on me okay?” Tony told him before beginning the complicated maneuver that they had both nearly perfected so that Tony could get his hands under Peter’s armpits and lift him to his feet. Once standing, Peter’s vision pulsed and went grey around the edges and he fell forward to rest against Tony’s chest as the room spun around him. “Whoa there Pete! You’re alright, just take a few deep breaths okay?”

“Dizzy,” Peter breathed, his vision still fading in and out. “Need to sit…”

“Need to…?” Was all Tony was able to get out before Peter’s vision failed completely and he started sliding back down toward the floor. “Oh shit! Can I get some help in here?! Pete? Peter! Stay with me!”

But Peter didn’t. The darkness was a lot more comfortable than being awake and he was pretty sure Tony would forgive him if he took a little nap. There was a lot of confusion and shouting around him and he was just so tired. With that thought swirling through his head, Peter let himself pass out.

————————————————

Even without opening his eyes, Peter could recognize the plush feeling of the MedBay bed and the sharp smell of betadine and chlorhexidine and industrial cleaner in the air. It tickled his nose and made him want to sneeze but he manfully held it in, burying his face a little more firmly into the plump pillow. He was resting on his front instead of his back like normal and he could tell by the slowness of his thoughts and the heaviness of his muscles that he was on his super strength painkillers and probably some sort of sedation as well.

His thoughts were murky and hard to get through with the pain relief on board so he didn’t try to think too hard for now and, instead, blinked his eyes open slowly. The room was dim like it was late in the evening even though warm light filtered in through the barely cracked blinds. There were two chairs beside his bed – the closest one held May’s purse and scrub jacket and the second had his mentor.

Tony was leaned over his tablet, one elbow propped on the arm of the chair and eyes half lidded as he read through something on the screen. He looked tired but, Peter supposed, he always looked that way when Peter ended up in the MedBay. “Mr. Stark,” he muttered out, blinking his eyes and barely managing to get them back open through his exhaustion.

Tony jumped and launched his tablet to the floor but was quick to recover and stand up so he could lean over Peter and run a cautious hand through his hair. “Hey Bambino,” he said softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Peter answered, letting his eyes close again. “High.”

“Yeah I’ll bet,” Tony agreed with him, a touch of amusement in his voice. “You should go back to sleep, you’ve got a lot of healing to do. You want anything before your nap?”

“What happened?” Peter asked, slitting his eyes open to look up at Tony’s worried face.

“When I asked if you wanted something I was thinking water or ice chips,” Tony told him pointedly but Peter didn’t let up on his relentless, woozy eye contact until Tony sighed and settled into May’s chair so he could hold Peter’s hand and continue to massage through his hair with the other. “You were kidnapped for information on me.”

“I didn’t give up anything right?” Peter asked, worried. He could vaguely remember some hazy memories but nothing was really clear through his tiredness and the drugs coursing through his system.

“Not one bit,” Tony confirmed, pride and concern warring on his face. “We’ll have a much more in depth discussion about that later and how you should always save your own skin over a couple passwords,” he promised, “but, for now, all you need to know is they messed up your back pretty good. Cho and Bruce estimate a full recovery with no scaring but you’ll be out for a bit while you recover.”

Peter searched his grey-tinged and sluggish memories before letting out a little hum of understanding. “They whipped me.”

“Yeah kiddo,” Tony confirmed. “They did. But you’re going to be just fine. I’ve got you.”

“You’ve got me,” Peter agreed, letting his eyes slip shut again. “Gonna nap now,” he said groggily, “night.”

“Night buddy,” Tony whispered and Peter fell asleep to the feeling of warm fingers carding through his hair and a calloused hand holding his.

[anika-ann]

For a Smile

Type: One-shot, Reader Insert               Word count: 5400

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, OC x reader (brief)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Reader, OFC, OC

Summary: You see him run past every morning. So you smile, because he looks like a nice person. How could he not be when he smiles back and the world stops for a while to pay respect to such beauty?

And sometimes… sometimes this incredibly handsome man smiles first.

Warnings: mentions and hints of (psychically) abusive relaionship, suggestive themes, swearing, all the fluff in the world

A/N: I used to pass this guy near a café playing music every morning when I went to school and at some point, our eyes kinda met and we smiled at each other; then we did that every day. I kid you not, he’s got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. It’s not a Hollywood-star smile, no – it’s a guy-next-door smile, heart-warming, with his eyes simply shining. He’s like a kid on Christmas Day… I could ramble on. Anyway, just so you knew what brought this on.

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A smile costs less than electricity, and gives more light. (Scottish proverb)

Warm honey, sandstone and apricot orange melting into indigo, cerulean blue and stone-grey sky. Merigold playing with salmon and rose pink, teasing each other and making space to the warmer shades of orange.

You watched the beautiful colours of sunrise as you shifted your legs for a bit, causing the simple plank hanging on two tattered ropes sway, a smile tugging on your lips.

It was a little childish really, or it may appear so to anyone who would be passing by; but given what an early riser you were, just so you could watch this breath-taking game of colours, the little miracle of nature, no person could question you as you were dangling your feet off the old swing.

On your way to work, if the time allowed it, you would always make a stop on your favourite spot; a no-name park in upstate New York you were walking through every day, rather calm and drunks-free at the early hour.

Once upon a time, someone had placed a simple swing on one of the trees farther from the path. You sent a silent thank you every time you parked your behind there. You weren’t a monster; if a kid wanted to sit here, you would have gladly (...reluctantly) made space for them, but they seemed to always be more mesmerized by the playground with the actual swings, the chutes, the monkey bars and the sandpit. You couldn’t say you complained though, having the old-fashioned swing for yourself.

It was childish, perhaps; though your mother had once chosen that you should be going into accounting and so you had. Numbers and bills were things even adults hated, but that was what being old enough meant. You didn’t mind it too often, plunging into them for living, but… you needed to compensate, so you felt entitled.

Plus, the motion of the swing was soothing, as if magically transporting you back to your childhood indeed, with less worries, more ease and pure mind.

Yeah, sitting on the swing was your favouri-

Rapid staccato of feet hitting the ground in the distance, no doubt scaring off the birds chiming their morning songs, reached your ears and you had to admit you wouldn’t be completely honest with yourself if you said this was the favourite moment of your day only because of the aforementioned reasons.

There was one more.

It had strong long sweatpants-clad legs, broad shoulders in a sports t-shirt with seams crying for help, blond hair and-

Your heart melted along with your brain as your lips curled up in a genuine smile you sent in return.

-and the most beautiful smile in the whole universe.

You never spoke. Didn’t say hello. You never even nodded in mutual acknowledgement.

You just… smiled at each other.

And that was your favourite moment of the day crafted to perfection. A breath-taking sunrise, almost eclipsed by a mesmerizing display of the row of perfect white teeth framed by plush coral red lips and the twinkle in beautiful inviting eyes of a stranger.

You knew his name despite never exchanging a single word. Everyone knew his name. But Captain Rogers – Steven Grant Rogers – was a name that held no meaning. He didn’t know yours and probably never would; so strangers was who you were. A couple of strangers exchanging a smile every morning and lightening up (hopefully) each other’s day.

It always felt nice when you glanced at someone on the street, then just… somehow smiled and they smiled back, didn’t it? So what if you were an adult woman dealing with numbers for Stark Industries sitting on a swing and he was a deservedly treasured national icon?

It made no difference.

Just two people sharing a tiny piece of their day for a smile.

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“You’re insane,” your colleague stated dryly as she walked into the office at seven thirty, already finding you with an empty coffee cup, your fingers flying over the keyboard.

“Huh?” you raised your eyes from the screen on autopilot, not really paying attention.

You still noticed Harry rolling her eyes; it was just that distinctive.

“I said that you’re insane, you crazy-ass lark. My brain isn’t even awake yet. To be fair, I’m ninety percent sure I met Captain Handsome in the hall along with our boss, so it’s hard to tell if I’m dreaming or not, having a vision like that.”

“Captain Handsome?” you frowned, your mind racing, desperately trying to remember who was Harriet’s newest crush. ‘Captain Handsome’ could be literally anyone.

“Our resident Star-Spangled Man, you dummy. You’re low on caffeine. Or sleep. That’s what you get, getting up in such an ungodly hour…” she hummed, crossing her arms on her chest as she looked at you sceptically, a drop of disappointment in her eyes.

Oh. Oh! That made sense; if the man was with Tony Stark, the range of options narrowed significantly, especially since your friend had called him a captain. Except it didn’t make any sense at all.

“What was he doing here? I mean… since when is he wandering in our department? It’s all across the compound here from the training area.”

“Well, look who’s actually awake and bright-minded…” It was your turn to roll your eyes at your friend. “My point exactly. No clue, but lemme tell you – seeing that ass? Definitely made my day,” she threw over her shoulder as she stalked to the coffee machine and you couldn’t but chuckle at her bluntness.

Your stranger had an amazing smile, that was true. But your gaze did slide elsewhere on occasion too; which was why you would never try to disprove Harry’s claim.

“We might have the Ironman for a boss, but, girl… I’d like to know what Rogers’ ass is made of then,” she added and you burst into another fit of giggles, your face feeling hot all of sudden when your mind unhelpfully supplied with ‘vibranium’.

What would it feel like?

Yeah, you definitely needed to go back to your numbers before your impure thoughts got the best of you.

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The first time you two met outside the park, you were in a bar.

You hadn’t seen him for almost a month, assuming he went on a long-drawn mission; one that had ended well, clearly, since he was out drinking. Just eyeing his companions and instantly noting his body language, you could tell he was suffering. Like, not literally suffering, but it was very much obvious he was not feeling comfortable.

His eyes were drifting all over the place, as Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes laughed loudly, patting his shoulders while a hint or red dusted his cheeks, and then they fell on you.

His face was screaming ‘save me!’; yet, his smile was still as warm and kind as ever, an impossible spark within his irises, visible even from the distance. That twinkle was always the biggest mystery to you, because logically, no person could have eyes so bright, but here he was, proving your claim wrong.

Your lips spread in a smile automatically and encouraged by your second drink, you considered adding a small silly wave.

Before you could execute the decision, the result of your two last braincells arguing whether it would be more silly or sweet, an arm sneaked around your shoulders and your smile widened on instinct at the sensation. You turned your head to Cade and met his lips halfway to yours.

You had been dating for almost a month now and this inconspicuous guy from logistic of a giant company that was surprisingly not Stark Industries was a dream coming true. He was showering you with so much attention you weren’t sure he was real. Late-night conversations via phonecalls or texts, good morning, good night, kisses that lasted long enough for you to forget that you in fact needed oxygen, touches that set you on fire. He was easy to fall in love with.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout that got you smilin’ so wide, babe?” he whispered to your ear, grazing your earlobe with his teeth.

Gosh, you wanted him. The first sex hadn’t been so great, Cade chasing his own release, but hey, first times were always hard in a new relationship. The more were you excited about your second time and you were confident the second time would happen tonight.

“Nah, just smiling at strangers. You know that feeling, so nice, when you just toss a smile and they smile back?” your eyes found his, only to see him frown.

“I like it better when you smile for me, babe. What did some stranger do for you to deserve that?” he hummed discontentedly, pouting adorably as his hand slid lower to squeeze your hip possessively. It sent a spark through your body, a lightning striking right into your core.

“Just teasing you, Cade. I was thinking about how I lucked out,” you batted your eyelashes and a slow delicious smirk played with the corner of his mouth all of sudden, intensifying the heat inside of you.

“Wanna get out of here, pretty thing? Lemme show you how lucky you are?” he whispered, the pad of his thumb grazing your lower lip, pulling it down a fraction. “Or maybe… show me how much you think you lucked out, huh? How much you appreciate being mine?”

God, yes.

Judging by the glint in his eyes and the hungry kiss that lasted too short – but too long for such a public place – he didn’t need a verbal confirmation. He swung by the bar to pay for your drink and practically dragged you out of the rather crowded space. Your head was spinning a bit and you couldn’t tell whether it was excitement or alcohol. Either way, you really, really liked it.

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“You know that Cade was a dick right?” Harry noted nonchalantly while she handed you a cup of coffee and assessed (correctly) that you were sulking again, thinking back to that one particular night when you had noticed the first sign – or you would have if you hadn’t been such a goddamn idiotic goose of a woman, drunk on top of that.

You sighed and sipped your punishingly bitter dose of caffeine.

You were positively brooding and you didn’t care if it affected anyone else. The world apparently hated you and you couldn’t quite blame it.

Not even your precious strangers-exchanging-smile moments felt the same anymore. First, your stranger had started smiling less brightly after your encounter at the bar and then, even if it had changed, you wouldn’t be able to tell, because you were too wrapped in your own misery. Even the curve of his lips looked sad, which was a stupid thing to say, because he had no way of knowing about either Cade turning out to be an abuser-in-making or about you breaking things off with him and cracking your fragile heart in the process, while yelling at yourself mentally every morning and still longing for Cade’s arms around you since it always felt oh, oh so good to be held…

You recognized the signs early, but not soon enough. You let it escalate into him trying to control when you went out and with whom, him lashing out when you wouldn’t respond to his text in longer than five-minutes time, letting him yell at you when you missed his call… he loved you, after all, he just missed you and was afraid you were with someone else, and oh babe, come here, you can make it up to me…

Your sister had gone through something similar, for god’s sake. You should have noticed sooner. You should have known better. But no, you had allowed your body, your twat to be precise, to rule your brain and that had been stupid.

Cade had tried to get in touch several times after your break-up, even waiting in front of your apartment until you would go out once; you might have threatened him with a restraining order after that particular day and he had stopped quickly after that, only two of three attempts with a new e-mail address and number to get pass you blocking his previous ones.

Still. It made you miserable. And perhaps a bit self-hateful.

You deserved every bitter drop of Harry’s horrible coffee and more.

“I was being blind and stupid,” you opposed and returned to your figures, deciding your exchange was over. Figures were clear enough; they were easy to read and didn’t make your brain drunk on endorphins and other very specific hormones allowing you to act like a teenage girl, excited at her first boyfriend groping her. “Thanks for the coffee.”

A huff sounded above your head and suddenly your swivel chair was being yanked back and turned around, a pair of strict chocolate eyes boring into your soul with startling clarity. Harry’s fingers were wrapped around the armrests as she was leaning into your space.

You backed into your chair instinctively. She looked menacing.

“He was a charming bastard from what I heard and his type always knows how to manipulate people, letting them see what he wants them to see. It’s not your fault. You’re one badass of a woman, smart as hell for noticing before it escalated. You’re my hero. Mine and every other person’s who has ever been in or even heard of an abusive relationship. You can do better than him. It’s a funny coincidence they spelled his name wrong anyway.”

You blinked away your sudden tears, immensely grateful for her words that somehow wormed their way inside your very core (you blamed the intense stare that reminded of your mother’s when she was giving you the kind of talk that was too serious for you to handle) and yet you tilted your head in confusion, not understanding the meaning of her last statement.

“Huh? His… his name?” you stuttered, baffled.

Harry positioned your chair back to its place with a grin and went back to her own business.

“Clearly, they added an ‘E’ at the end. What a stupid typo…” she threw over her shoulder cheekily and when you caught up, understanding her point, you released the first honest laughter in what felt like a year.

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Your life had been set off to better course after that short conversation. You felt like you were healing every day, finding yourself lighter. Happier. Freer of the baggage Cade had tried to left you with. The sensation was indescribable and it radiated from you; some days more noticeably than others.

You found yourself indulging the blond stranger’s smiles once more, finally seeing the spark in his eyes again, the genuine curve of his lips warming your heart and starting off your day in the best way imaginable.

Naturally, life had a reliable means of showing you it could suck.

Right when you thought that you were fine, it delivered another blow; your favourite place in the world… ceased to exist.

Someone put the swing in the park down.

They just… erased it from existence.

Maybe they considered it dangerous. Maybe they were being dicks. Maybe they thought it was old and ugly. It didn’t quite matter.

You could weep, mourning your intimate inanimate friend.

You didn’t cry. But it was a damn close call as you shuffled towards the playground and eyed it sceptically. You knew it wouldn’t be the same and not just because the swings were in a plain sight, but they also looked too fancy, to actually child-like and— they weren’t your swing. Your sanctuary. Your private space. Your secret place you never told anyone about, not Cade or your previous boyfriends, not your family, not Harry or other friends, not to anyone.

You watched the sun rise on the horizon, ridiculously heavy feeling in your chest, ignorant to the rest of the world.

God, you hated Mondays. You already knew this week was about to be a disaster.

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“There’s a swing outside in the green area.”

“Huh?” you hummed distractedly, too deep into figures to register more than the sound of your friend’s voice. What was her name again? What was yours? What day was today? What was the time? Had you already had lunch? Had the lunch-time already passed…?

A chuckle followed by a to-be offended tone responded to your intelligent way of communicating.

“I’m starting to think ‘Huh’ is my name with how often you call me that,” Harry (aha!) remarked with a hint of sass, but repeated herself, because she knew she shouldn’t take it personal that you didn’t quite payed her any attention. You were a person who would get sucked into their own world, too focused on one task to acknowledge anything else. “A swing. In our compound park. It’s kinda cute, hidden from a plain sight though, a simple wooden thing.”

You slowly raised your eyes to hers, your pupils widening with surprise. Your pulse was roaring in your ears, your heartbeat no doubt shaking your whole frame.

Harry was telling you that there was… a swing. In the compound area. Hidden from everyone’s prying eyes, at least partly.

Why?

How?

You could only come up with one ridiculous theory which involved you, but that idea alone was laughable. Why would anyone do that for you? More importantly, how did anyone know-

“You think it’s an invitation for children? Like, is ‘bring your kids to work’ day happening any time soon? ‘cause, not to be rude and greedy, but one swing doesn’t seem like— hey!” Harry called after you, but you could barely hear her as you jumped to your feet, your heels be damned, and strode through the halls with zero regards to anyone in your way.

Not that there was a soul; people actually worked around here, too busy to wander the halls.

The thing was, that one theory about the swing didn’t just involve you. It involved one more person, but that person was a stranger to you and had no reason to even… acknowledge you. Besides the obvious part of your day that no longer existed – not in the way it used to. But the thought was simply laughable.

A different part of your brain raised a figurative sceptical eyebrow, argumenting that you had no better explanation for the phenomenon.

Because… you loved Harry. She knew about your traditional early morning watching the sunrise, but not about the swing. The swing was always a secret, no one knew, except… except one particular guy who always passed you on his morning run and exchanged a smile with you and just happened to work at the very same compound you did and technically had the power to pull the strings to make this happen.

With your heart hammering in your chest, you gasped for fresh air when you finally made it out of the building, your eyes searching for a calm spot, a tree in whose shades you could possibly find a prove of Harry not pulling your leg.

Your heart positively stopped when your eyes fell on the simple plank hanging on two ropes, indeed offering a safe space for anyone who decided to sit there in search for serenity.

You felt tears stinging in your eyes, your feet moving of their own will despite semi-high heels digging into the ground an inch with each step, bringing you closer to that little, yet breath-taking miracle. A chuckle escaped your lips when your trembling fingers brushed the grey ropes, more of your senses acknowledging that this was in fact happening.

Your hand followed the line of the rope, sliding to the plank, only to notice a rough sensation on your fingertips in the corner. A carving, you realized.

Tears of surprise actually welled up when you recognized they were initials. Your initials.

How-- how was that possible?

‘Sit down, you dummy!’ your consciousness cried out exasperatedly. ‘It’s clearly for you!’

“But why?” you asked it under your breath incredulously, thousands of questions ruminating, no answers on the horizon.

Regardless, you reluctantly lowered yourself, shocked when your feet dangled above the ground in precisely the same way they used to-- they used to in the park. It was even installed in the same height.

Reverently, you gave the swing a test-drive, just tiny motions of your feet to try it out.

It was perfect.

Your gaze fell on a sign on the tree trunk, small, subtle and harmonizing with the place without a fault.

Sanctuary of the kind ones. Do not disturb, it read.

You giggled breathlessly, lightheaded and with no care in the world.

That naturally changed when you spotted your very much expectant colleague in the distance, her arms crossed on her chest, figuratively tapping her foot and screaming questions without saying a single word.

The thing is, you thought, I have no idea how to answer.

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Perhaps it was naïve, a child-like trust and excitement, but the next day, you went to your new spot expecting to enjoy the sunrise there and not to be disturbed indeed.

You weren’t.

What you couldn’t quite prepare yourself for was the single daisy lying on the wood, starling you to no end. Hesitating all of sudden, you searched your surroundings, wondering if you interrupted someone else’s plan. Perhaps someone had the same initials as you and whoever made this happen had a different person in mind, doing it for them and the swing was just a funny coincidence.

But then in the middle of your mussing – on the swing, because, screw it, you might as well enjoy this since no one had kicked you out yet – a familiar figure ran past, gracing you with a beautiful smile, once again without a word and with a shy gaze falling to the ground after you met their eyes. With that, it… actually started to settle.

He had done this for you. For some incredible inexplicable reason… your smiling ‘stranger’ offered you a kindness of unseen measures.

And as if it wasn’t enough, you would find a different flower on the wood every day for the whole week. They weren’t even fancy flowers, which made it absolutely magical. Daisy. Tulip. Lilly. No red roses, only cute blossoms, matching the simplicity of the swing.

Harry was nearing the verge of insanity due to your goofy smiles and flowers in your hands; but you remained tight-lipped like an international spy during an interrogation, too afraid that if you said it out loud, sharing that ridiculous impression you were getting these days with anyone, your bubble would burst.

And surely enough, as if you jinxed it mentally, the next Wednesday, no flower waited for you.

It was ridiculous how your mood died instantly. It could have had hundreds of explanations including the one that he went for a mission, because he was Captain Freaking America, in case your stupid heart forgot, but nope, you would still feel the corners of your lips turn down.

You watched the shades of orange bleeding into blue and grey, lost in thought and with unsettling longing in your heart.

You suspected his steps sounded purposely loud when they came from behind you, where you wouldn’t expect them. You didn’t need to see the familiar Nikes on his feet to know it was him; you doubted anyone else would approach you, let alone at such early hour.

Yet you would lie saying your heart didn’t skip a beat when he stopped in his slow tracks by your side, steady feet next to your dangling ones, and you had his identity confirmed.

Your throat went dry and stiff, your voice dying before it could form.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he whispered reverently, not disturbing the peace of the indeed lovely scenery in front of you.

You didn’t dare to look away from the sunrise as your voice came out unfairly scratchy, a stark contrast to his deep and smooth one that felt like a caress on your skin.

“It is.”

Silence fell on your pair again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The birds sung their morning songs, waking up the world and you didn’t think words were needed. Except you owed him something, and you wanted to say it.

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from the painting by the most amazing artist, the nature itself, you casted a glance at him.

You didn’t realize you had never seen him still; duh, you did know that, but what didn’t quite click in your brain was that you would be able to see him in all his glory, soft smile and an absent gaze framed by long eyelashes, shadows casted all over his face and body, playing games which gave him a surprisingly ethereal aura for a man of his built.  

Your stomach tied itself into a knot at the sight and the ‘thank you’ got once again stuck in your throat when his eyes turned to you as well, you breath stolen from your lungs, your lips parting uselessly and curling into a smile on instinct when his did.

Despite seeing the too startling sparkle up close, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the deep blue with a hint of green of his irises. It was just too captivating, locking you in a sweet cage you didn’t feel trapped in, but free and suddenly able to breathe in again.

“Thank you,” slipped from your lips unwittingly, shocking to your own ears.

The very same hint of scarlet you remembered from the infamous bar encounter dusted his cheeks, his smile softening as he turned a bashful gaze away, now fixated on the ground.

“Just wanted to see you smile again. Best part of my day,” he admitted, peeking at you from the insanely long and thick eyelashes and you could melt on spot, dizzying vertigo overcoming you at the sweet words. Good thing you were sitting.

You had no idea how to respond, your heartbeat thumping in your temples, your face feeling too hot and chest pleasantly warm at such admission. Your teeth went to chew on your lip and you abruptly stopped yourself. Bad, bad habit.

“Was… was that the only thing? Because the swing would be more than enough, let alone with my initials, and the flowers-“

“Maybe-“ he softly interrupted your lame attempt at flirting which had turned into a babble, but with same nerves coursing his voice unless your senses were playing tricks on you. A shiver ran down your spine at the realization that he might be as nervous as you were-- the strangest thing in the world, wouldn’t it be? “Maybe I could tell you… over a coffee?”

A daffodil entered your field of vision, happy, bright and yet somehow shy in his big hand and you didn’t think twice before accepting it, your fingers brushing his skin in the process only half-accidentally. Passing you the flower, he offered you a hand so he could assist you in standing up.

Ah, as if he knew your knees felt wobbly and uncooperating with the overwhelming turn of events.

You didn’t hesitate to accept that either. You had a hunch that the manners of a forties’ man would be offended if you didn’t anyway.

“Thank you. Again.”

The twinkle in his eyes shone brighter at your words, his smile widening.

“My pleasure.”

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“If I trip over something, I’ll bully you into carrying me everywhere for the next month,” you threatened in a joking manner as your boyfriend of one year led you through his apartment with his huge palm sprawled over your eyes, while his other gently rested on your lower back, making sure you maintained some balance.

“I wouldn’t complain about that. Are you serious? Because I just might let you trip then…” he teased back and you could hear the grin in his voice, mesmerized by the happy note in it. You would roll your eyes at him fondly, but he wouldn’t see it, so there was no point.

“Don’t you dare…”

“Okay, let’s stop now,” he whispered in your ear, his hand shifting to your hip to squeeze lightly, causing you to shiver. You and Steve had taken your time when it came to physical aspect of your relationship (past certain bases anyway), so a touch like that still sent a delicious electrifying feeling through your whole body.

As if you weren’t excited enough ever since the moment he had told you he had had a surprise for you.

Chewing on your lower lip, you followed his gentle instruction and stopped in your tracks.

“Should I be afraid?” you asked for the fourth time in the past five minutes.

“Terrified,” he confirmed in a joking manner. “You ready?”

Not waiting for your answer, he uncovered your eyes and with a deep inhale, you snapped them open.

Only for your breath to hitch at the sight in front of you.

“Oh my god... it’s beautiful!” you exclaimed, a surprised chuckle escaping past your lips.

In the corner of the living room, soft marigold pillows laid in a circular hammock chair coloured in the indigo of an early sunrise, practically begging for you to jump in and nestle there with a book and relax.

Instantly reminded of how you met Steve in the first place, you couldn’t but spun on your heels and threw your arms around him, strong arms eagerly welcoming you as his chest shook with hushed chuckle.

���Glad you like it,” he murmured, hiding his face in your hair, raising you from the floor effortlessly. “Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! Happy anniversary, Steve. This truly is amazing. I love it!”

“But not more than me?”

It was your turn to chuckle as you retreated, placing a kiss on his nose and earning a pout that simply had to be kissed away.

“No, Steve, not even this amazing hammock compares to you. I’ll show you exactly how much I love you in a sec, I just have to test it out,” you promised.

He released you with no protest and watched with a fond smile as you climbed in with a child-like excitement, the corners of his eyes twinkling. He slowly made his way to you as the hammock swung gently with your weight and you sent him a delighted grin as he sat on his heels in front of you, his hands landing on the edges so he had the control over the movements.

“What’s the verdict?” he pried softly and you opened your mouth to respond with enough enthusiasm to power the state of New York for a year; but he continued. ”Is it comfy enough for you to… make you consider- that maybe-- you could… stay here more often?”

Your breath hitched, your throat swelling when you got a pretty good idea of what he was asking from his serious gaze. Yet, you needed to make sure, butterflies in your stomach flipping their wings wildly as you leaned forward, invisible magnets pulling you towards him.

“And by ‘more often’ you mean-“

“All the time,” he whispered, his eyes roaming your face nervously, trying to spy a reaction, read the answer in your expression alone.

You chuckled incredulously, ecstatic at such proposition, and placed your palms to both sides of Steve’s face, grateful for his grip on the hammock and trusting him not to let you faceplant on him with how hazardous the kiss you gave him was.

Your eyelids fluttered close, but you felt his smile as his lips engaged in a tender dance with yours, one of his hands sneaking to the side of your neck to pull you closer, tilting your head as his tongue teased your lips to part.

How could you deny him anything even when you felt like you were about to fall face-down any second? He would be under you when you landed anyway. What more could you wish for-

“I love you,” he breathed to your mouth as he broke the kiss for one damned second that felt like eternity; one second in which you forgot to suck more air in even when given the opportunity. Who needed oxygen anyway? You could breathe Steve in and live blissfully, it was what you were trying to do for the past minute and it was glorious- “That’s a yes, right?”

A chuckle escaped you as you dodged another kiss, his lips landing in your hair instead, the hammock swaying hazardously. Mm, seemed like your supersoldier was too distracted to watch your balance.

“Yes. The hammock totally convinced me,” you teased him lightly, an idea striking you when you said those words. Climbing down as he was still sitting in front of you on his heels, you lowered yourself on him, nestling in his lap and leaning to his ear and sharing your not necessarily filthy thought in a breathless whisper. “But I think I still like sitting right here much better.”

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S.R. masterlist

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Tags: @mermaidxatxheart​

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Thank you for reading :-*

P.S. - Keep smiling; at the people you love whenever you can, at strangers and at the person you see in the mirror :))

[yet-another-fan-girl9]

Heart Of Stone

Summary: You were taught to show no emotions. Emotions were your weakness.

Warnings: language, some angst, blood, self-inflicted pain, death, abusive parents (maybe more)

Word Count: ~5000

A/N: This is one of my submissions for @the--sad--hatter​ ‘s Birthday Tea Party! Happy Birthday Kara ❤️! Also I’m posting this at 3 am 🤭

Bucky Fic Here

You felt the tickle of the forced tear as it rolled down your cheek. Your target seemed to buy it. Of course, he did. Shaun Bartlett was a friend of your asshole of a mother. He may have been rich, but he had nothing going on upstairs. Nothing good, anyway. He was one of the men who sponsored your mother’s ‘experiments,’ unbeknownst to the Avengers. They suspected the large amounts of money disappearing from his accounts were being funneled to Hydra.

When you sniffed, the grey-haired man put his arm around your waist and pulled you out of the busy gala room. Natasha’s red hair caught your eye before you entered the hallway where, surprise, Steve came out of the bathroom. He made eye contact with you and sent you a small nod. You faked a stumble in your heels and then let out another sob.

“Oh, I just can’t do a-anything,” you cried and hid your face in your hands.

“Shh. There, there.” Bartlett rubbed your arm in what you thought was supposed to be comforting. Instead, it made you want to stab him even more than you already did. “I’m sure you’re good for something.” How ominous, perverted, and condescending.

“We saw you leaving,” Sam’s voice came out of the comm in your ear. “Give us the signal when you’re alone.”

Bartlett led you to his large, ornate office. You did a quick survey of the room before discreetly tapping your comm for your team. Now all you had to do was put a bullet or blade in Bartlett.

“Get yourself comfortable, darlin’.” He shrugged off his suit jacket.

If he thought anything of your sudden lack of tears, he didn’t show it. Honestly, you didn’t think he thought at all. You smiled at him and coyly teased the edge of the slit in your dress. When you finally pulled it away, it revealed a holster carrying a Glock 42 and a simple throwing knife.

Sam, Nat, and Steve burst through the doors at that moment. Your smile quickly disappeared and as Bartlett realized what was happening, your blade found itself embedded between his eyes. His body fell to the ground and the three Avengers in the doorway gaped at you with varying looks of shock and disappointment.

“What the fuck?” Sam broke the silence.

“We were going to question him.” Steve glared at you and Bartlett’s body. “We don’t fucking kill them.”

“And that’s the problem.” Your face remained in its usual stoic expression, but you knew you fucked up when Captain America swore at you. “These types of people—”

“You’re right,” Natasha cut in with a gentle tone. “There are some bad people in the world and maybe they deserve to die, but it’s not your job to decide.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking child. I’m—”

“Can we do this somewhere else?” Sam interrupted this time.

You glared at him but Steve and Nat agreed. You don’t know what happens to dead bodies on missions, but maybe it’s because there usually weren’t any. The entire way back to the compound, someone’s eyes were on you.

Tony was waiting for you when you landed. He raised his eyebrows when he noticed that the four of you were empty handed.

“Aren’t you supposed to have some guy with you?” he asked and studied everyone’s expressions. “What happened?”

“Ask her.” Steve nodded at you before stomping away. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, call everyone to the briefing room. Now.”

You rolled your eyes slightly and Tony looked at you quizzically

“He’s being dramatic,” was all you said.

“Not as dramatic as you’d think, though,” Nat added before following Steve.

“You do know you fucked up, right?” Sam glared at you.

Apparently, everyone had time to let their anger stew on the flight home. You just rolled your eyes again.

“Emotion,” Tony said. He had gotten into a habit of pointing out whenever you made a facial expression. “So what happened?” It was your turn to walk off.

Somehow, you made it to the briefing room without going insane due to Tony’s incessant questioning. Couldn’t he wait one fucking minute? Surely Steve was going to talk all about it during the meeting.

It was quiet when you walked in. Everyone was already situated around the table. You noticed that Loki was here. Loki sightings around the compound were rare, but based on his disgruntled expression that contrasted Thor’s large grin, he didn’t come by choice.

The few times you had seen the raven-haired god, you could have sworn his bright eyes were following you. Like right now, as you took your seat, he was watching you. In a challenge, you narrowed your eyes the slightest bit and saw a small smirk grace Loki’s perfectly sculpted face. Wait, what?

Tony leaned over and muttered, “Emotion.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes lest he do it again. 

“You may be wondering why you’re all here,” Steve began. “You may also have noticed that Shaun Bartlett is not with us.” Damn, he was really mad mad about this. “Someone decided to kill him, leaving us without any leads on Hydra. Yet again.”

“I don’t think—” you began before Steve jumped in.

“Yes, you didn’t think. There was no reason to kill him.”

“Yes there was,” you growled.

“Care to share with the rest of us?” Sam crossed his arms.

“We’ve all taken lives before. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“You took a life. Of someone who could have had information on Hydra, I might add,” Steve said. “You can leave now. You’re benched for the following three weeks.”

You were about to protest before you realized that the rest of the team was just watching you and Steve go back and forth like a tennis match. You pushed back your seat, which didn’t make as big a screeching sound as you had hoped, and left the room.

Control. 

You were a personal person and Bartlett was a personal problem that you were not going to share with the team.

[Week 1, Day 1]

They were leaving. They were all leaving to bust some shit Hydra base. The only ones that were going to be in the compound were you and Loki.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. will be keeping an eye on you,” Tony told you. 

“Stay out of trouble.” Steve gave you a hard look.

“Why are looking at me when you say that?” You asked and raised your eyebrow a millimeter. “You do know Loki is standing right next to me. Loki. The fucker who invaded New York.”

“Stay out of trouble.”

You couldn’t believe it. They thought you were going to cause more trouble than Loki? At least Tony gave you an empathetic look before he left, but it was probably for your poor company. Loki turned to you with a mischievous hint glint in his eyes. You rolled your own before marching away. 

Don’t let your emotions show, your mother’s voice shot through your head. Emotions are your weakness. Learn to turn them off.

Face muscles relaxed, but hard, calculating eyes. You’ve been slipping up in the year you’ve spent with the Avengers. There was nobody here to beat the emotion out of you. 

Except you.

So you found yourself in the gym, improper workout clothes, in front of a punching bag. You looked momentarily at the two acorn-sized pieces of jagged amethyst you always carried. You remembered summoning them on accident when you were five. Your father had promised to carve them into those mini sculptures you’d loved, but that was before your mother betrayed him. Before your mother betrayed you.

It’s because of you she does those… things, this time, it was your father.

Pushing the thoughts of your father out of your head, you placed each amethyst into each unwrapped hand. Each punch you threw at the bag sent sharp pains up your arms as the hard crystals cut into you already scarred palms.

Pain is temporary. Don’t let it stop you.

Yes, mother.

It’s your fault she hurts people.

Okay, father.

If you can’t control your emotions, you can’t control anything.

Her inspiration.

If you can’t get yourself under control, it’ll be your fault they died.

Her muse.

“I’m pretty sure you’re doing that wrong.”

You didn’t jump at the sudden voice, but you noticed a small quartz you had summoned sticking out of the punching bag. Control.

“Don’t sneak up on me,” you replied and looked at him. You weren’t easily spooked, if you could call it that, but somehow the infamous God of Mischief had avoided your senses. You’ll let it slide this time because he was a god. This time.

“I wasn’t trying to.” Loki leaned against a wall and watched you examine your split knuckles. “I’m not an expert but I think you should have protected your hands.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You clenched your fists tighter and noticed small trickles of blood escape from your palms.

“You’re bleeding.” 

“No shit,” you said again.

You opened your hands and revealed the bloodied amethysts. Then you pulled the quartz out of the bag, sand pouring from the rip, and stomped past Loki and out of the gym. Thankfully he didn’t follow you.

[Week 1, Day 6]

You haven't seen Loki in the past five days. The only sign of someone else in the large compound was the food missing from the cupboards.

“How are your hands?”

Fuck. You had to restrain yourself from throwing the TV remote at the god’s head and instead, sapphires appeared to bedazzle it.

“Fine,” you held up your scabbed knuckles and scarred palms. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you out of your snake burrow.”

“What are you watching?”

“A movie.” He looked at you for more details so you obliged. “It’s a home invasion movie, but the protagonist is deaf. Do you want to join? I’m not that far in.”

You didn’t know why you had invited him to join, but you were happy when he shrugged and sat at the other end of the couch. Every minute you found yourself glancing over at Loki. He was always wearing green, gold, and black Asgardian clothes. In comparison, you were wearing a sweatshirt and leggings.

“I do believe you’re watching me more than the movie,” he said. Shit, were you really that obvious?

“I’ve seen it before. I like watching people’s reaction to something I know is coming,” you explained. That was true, but it wasn’t the only reason.

“You enjoy observing others.” He wasn’t watching the movie anymore either.

“Are you observing me observing you?” You quirked your eyebrow.

“Perhaps.” Loki smirked.

“Tell me,” you moved so that your body faced him and you were able to rest your head on your arm propped on the back of the sofa. “What do you see?”

“A lot.” He mimicked your position so you mimicked his smirk. “I can see the difference between what you want me to see and what is involuntary. I can see that you see more, think more, and know more than you let on.”

“Then we have that in common.”

You realized how quickly you had gotten comfortable with Loki and honestly, it scared you. You were never comfortable with people. You were never supposed to be comfortable, your parents made sure of that.

“I’m going to bed.” You stood up abruptly and left the living room before he could react. Keep your emotions in check.

Loki didn’t follow you.

[Week 2, Day 2]

You scraped your fork across the bottom of your plate to get the last bits of your dinner. Your white bed sheets were still, thankfully, without any stains. Yes, you had been eating in your room for the past couple of days to avoid Loki. It seemed as if you had become the hermit in this situation.

You placed the empty dish by the door, promising to bring it to the kitchen tomorrow, and stretched your sore muscles from the quick excursion to the gym. The next thing on your nightly routine was relaxation, and you sure utilized the time. With your comfortable sleep clothes on and your favorite show playing, you sunk into your welcoming bed.

“—under arrest for kidnapping, murder, and illegal experimentation.”

“NO!” Your mother’s arms pulled you back. “DON’T TAKE HIM! HE DIDN’T DO ANY OF IT! IT WASN’T HIM!”

“I’m sorry agents,” your mother sniffed as convincing tears rolled down her cheeks. “All of the evidence points to him. I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”

“DAD! DON’T LEAVE, DAD!”

“Be quiet. That’s enough of that. Enough!” Sharp nails cut into your shoulder. “Enough with the fucking stalling. Shoot him.”

The familiar gun suddenly felt heavy in your hands as you stared at the gagged man tied to the chair. Your mother said he was an evil man. You raised the gun. The man whimpered against the cloth in his mouth.

“It’s about time you took a life, you’re already eleven.”

He shook his head and pleaded with his eyes.

“Do you see that?” A stray tear cut a path through the blood and grime covering his face. “Emotion. He is fucking weak and the weak ones always die.”

You squeezed the trigger and the man slumped forward.

“Good girl.” Her mouth twisted into a smile. “Good girl. Focus on the items.”

Your eyes were shut tight and your face was damp with sweat. You could feel the gems, crystals, and precious metals surrounding you. The hexagonal quartz and the amethyst that was shaped into a cube. A gold nugget and an emerald ring.

“Do the quartz first.”

You felt the dimensions. The depth. The small scratches on the smooth faces. When you opened your eyes you saw the original crystal and the duplicate you had summoned.

Your mother gave you a few courtesy claps before gesturing towards the nugget. You had the same success you had with the quartz. It wasn’t until you reached the man-made or modified objects when you had problems.

“Pathetic,” your mother spat and you felt her rings cut into your cheek. “Weak.” You heard the sound of a gun cocking. “Try again.”

“I—” you quickly wiped away a tear but your mother noticed.

“No fucking emotion. Emotion is weakness.”

The sound of the gun going off echoed through the room and you felt the bullet tear through your thigh.

You clenched your jaw to trap the groan trying to escape. The echo of the pain slowly faded but the memories lingered. The TV was still on and Netflix's ‘are you still watching?’ screen was up. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. The glowing red numbers of the clock on your bedside table read 1:47.

It was time for a post-midnight snack so you made your way to the kitchen. With a cup of tea and some cereal, you sat in the darkness just… existing, trying not to think of your dream. How many episodes had you missed? Aw, shit. You could’ve brought your dirty plate down. Now you had to do it later. You groaned.

“Is everything okay?”

“Jesus fucking shit, Loki!” You actually threw your spoon at him this time but fortunately he ducked. “I thought I told you don’t sneak up on me.”

“You just make it too easy,” he responded with a smirk.

“Shut up.” You watched him as he moved to sit across from you.

“What are you doing in here?”

“What are you doing in here?”

“I asked you first,” he responded and you rolled your eyes. 

“Couldn’t sleep. I’m sure you can relate.” Loki hummed in agreement. “Your turn.”

“Same reason. Dreams of the past. You never answered my question, by the way. Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” You took a sip of your steaming tea.

“I thought we already established that I can read you. You can talk to me if you want. But,” he continued before you could shoot him down. “At least tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I didn’t want to get comfortable,” you said slowly. “It goes against everything I’ve been taught.”

“I pushed away a lot of people throughout my life. I always believed that I was unworthy. My father always told me I was unworthy.”

“It was my mother for me. She taught me most of everything I know.”

“My mother did the same, but with a lighter tone. It seemed as if only she, and occasionally my brother, cared for me.”

“At least you had a brother. My father was kind until my mother got greedy. Until she fucking betrayed us. She blamed everything on him.” You fell silent when you realized that Loki now knew more about you than anyone else.

“Thank you,” he said and he took your hand in his. “I know it’s hard, talking about your past, so thank you for talking to me.”

“You’re welcome, I guess.” You smiled.

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you smile. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Your smile grew and for once you didn’t try to hide the emotions that were painted across your face. The smile stayed with you until you fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

[Week 2, Day 4]

Everyone was coming home tomorrow. You cared about the Avengers, they were your friends, but you couldn’t help but mourn the loss of peace and quiet. You liked being alone, though you have been enjoying time spent with Loki.

“Have you chosen a movie yet?” You sat in your new spot, next to the god, and offered him some of your popcorn. Your shoulders brushed against each other’s and the slight touch sent shivers down your spine.

“There are so many choices, but yes.” He took a handful of popcorn.

“Jurassic Park,” you read the title. “A classic. Who knew Loki the Trickster God liked dinosaurs?”

“Well, I don’t know if I like them yet. I haven’t seen the movie.”

“Oh, hush.”

You resumed your new favorite activity of watching Loki. You couldn’t help yourself. You analyzed his eyes, which you noticed changed between blue, green, and hazel in different lightings. You liked his sharp jawline and cheekbones. Your eyes followed the slope of his nose down to his lips. They were pink and they looked soft and all you wanted to do was—

“You’re staring again,” Loki said while Denis Nerdy unsuccessfully tried to flee.

“Well, I just like—”

“Watching reactions. I know,” he gave you his signature smirk. “As much as I enjoy you and your staring, this movie is getting exciting.”

“It was already exciting but you—”

He cut you off again but this time he did it by pressing his lips to yours. It was short, probably only two seconds, but your mind was blissfully blank. He brought his finger to his lips, winked, and then returned to the movie. Loki, you had learned, was the only person able to leave you speechless.

[Week 3, Day 6]

The sound of exaggerated gagging forced you and Loki apart. Your eyes landed on Sam, the source of the gagging. In the past week since they’ve been back, the rest of the Avengers still couldn’t believe the change that had come upon you.

“Can’t you do that somewhere else?” Sam made a face. When the group had finally gotten over the shock and suspicions that one of you had an ulterior motive, they let you and Loki grow closer together. “But honestly, I’m glad to see you happy. Though it’s still strange seeing you with real emotions.”

You rolled your eyes and turned to face Sam. Loki stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and Sam faked a gag again.

“Oh, grow the fuck up,” you said and smiled when you felt Loki rest his head on your shoulder. “What do you want?”

“Briefing room. Everyone’s invited.” Sam’s gaze moved to Loki. “But I don’t want to see any of your weird, out of character, lovey dovey bullshit.”

You sat in the briefing room, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. Loki held your hand and you put your head on his shoulder. You noticed Nat and Wanda’s smirks and Thor’s beaming smile. Tony narrowed his eyes for a second before giving you a grin and a nod. He, like many others, were wary of Loki but were happy for you. At least he had given up with that ‘Emotion’ shit.

“We tracked where Bartlett’s money was going,” Steve said as he walked in. Your blood ran cold and you sat up. “We had a bit of trouble tracking it after someone killed him,” maybe he was still a little salty, “but we’re getting everyone on this.”

“That means your benching is ending one day early,” Tony said to you. “We’re attacking a large base tomorrow.”

“Is it Hydra?” Wanda asked.

“We actually don’t know,” Steve answered. “But we need to prepare for anything.”

As you were walking out, Steve called your name. You nodded at Loki to go on ahead before going up to the blond.

“You don’t have to tell me the reason you killed Bartlett, but can I have your word that you won’t kill anyone.”

You thought for a moment. Chances were that you were going to see your mother again. Would you be able to control yourself?

“I’m sorry, but I can’t make promises I can’t keep.”

Nobody spoke on the flight to the mission, but the jet was anything but quiet as wind and rain pelted the sides. Your fingers were entwined with Loki’s. The jet landed harshly and when you stepped out, you were instantly drenched. Loki pulled you towards the building, following the glowing lights of Tony’s suit.

Everyone piled into the empty lobby, dripping puddles onto the tiled floor. Loki put his hand on your shoulder and warmth spread through your body as he used his magic to dry you. Sam’s longing stare at your dried uniform almost made you chuckle. Almost. The threat of your mother still hung heavy over your head.

You split up in two teams. Tony, Wanda, Thor, and Sam went left while you, Loki, Nat, and Steve went right. Your team crept down a hall with only a few incursions. You were drawn to a room that was emitting a glowing, blue light.

“What the fuck?” Nat gasped when she took in the room’s contents.

Rows upon rows of tanks filled with glowing liquid and people. This had to be your mother’s doing. Her experiments. A small white square at eye level was on each tank. When you got closer, you realized they were nametags of sorts.

“M. Cowell,” you read the one nearest to you. “Energy manipulation.”

“V. Hargreeves,” Loki read another. “Sound manipulation.”

“These people are all enhanced.”

Steve called your name from deeper in the room. “I think you’ll want to see this.” You found him next to an empty tank. “It’s your name.” He pointed to the tag.

A chill shot through your body as you read your initial and last name. Printed by your name were the words ‘Crystal manipulation.’

“Let’s get out of here,” you whispered and sped your way out to the hallway.

“Are you alright?” Loki asked when he joined you in the hall.

“No.”

The hallway opened up into a tall room, a balcony circled the perimeter above you. Across from you, the other team emerged from their side. Before anyone could say anything, the clicking of heels drew everyone’s attention upwards. Your mother came into view. She was flanked by four armed guards who pointed their rifles down at you.

“Who the fuck are you?” Tony asked.

“I’m hurt that my daughter hasn’t told you about me.” She dramatically placed a hand on her chest.

“Daughter?” the other team echoed but your team looked at you.

“Are you Hydra?” Steve stepped in.

“Oh, heavens no. My organization has nothing to do with Hydra. I’m surprised at how long it took you to track down the Red Sapphire.”

“You’re an organization?” you asked. “You’re not working alone?”

“You can stop playing dumb now, my dear.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You killed Bartlett so the weak little fucker couldn’t blab to the Avengers. But I thought I taught you to clean up crime scenes better. Your prints were everywhere.”

“Is that why you killed him?” Steve turned to you.

“No.” You glared at your mother. “You are not going to get rid of me the same way you got rid of dad.” You felt around with your powers. She was wearing a gold necklace.

“Don’t show emotion. Emotion is weak—”

“Shut up!”

You forced the gold chain around her neck to tighten until your mother was grasping at her neck. You blocked out the voices of the Avengers telling you to stop. The four guards readied their guns so, without releasing your mother, you sent up sharp ammonium phosphate crystals and impaled the four. Your mother’s face was changing colors. The necklace tightened around her neck until it cut her skin. Until she collapsed.

“What did you do?” someone asked before you passed out from the exertion.

You woke up on the floor of the jet.

“Perfect timing,” Tony said. “We just landed.”

The jet’s ramp lowered and everyone walked out without looking at you. You stayed on the ground for a moment, rethinking your actions, regretting nothing, before you picked yourself up and walked out.

“Loki,” you sighed with relief. The god was standing at the bottom of the ramp. When he didn’t return your smile you hesitated. “What’s wrong?”

“You killed your own mother,” he stated and crossed his arms.

“Yeah? She was a wicked, vile bitch.”

“You shouldn’t have done it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” If anyone was going to be on your side, it would have been Loki. “You should understand. Your father was horrible too.”

“I wouldn’t have killed him. He lied to me my entire life. He hated me, belittled me, ignored me and so much more but I wouldn’t have fucking killed him.”

“You don’t know all the things my mother has done.” You felt tears begin to build up. “Try to think of what you would do if your mother killed hundreds, thousands, of people. She hurt others, hurt me. She made me do terrible things.”

“Not as terrible as what you did back there.”

You took a shaky breath and couldn’t prevent the tears from spilling.

“People always said I was the cruel one but all this time, it was you. You only think of yourself. You only care about you. You’re the one with the fucking heart of stone.” You didn’t bother to wipe the tears off of your face as you stormed away. He didn’t follow you.

Loki, you had learned, was the only person able to make you cry.

In the following week, everyone avoided you. That was fine. You didn’t want to fucking see anyone. You had reverted to your pre-Loki persona. No emotions. Turns out your mother was right for once. Emotion is weakness.

Your days were spent alone in your room. Plans to track down and dismantle the Red Sapphire spread over every surface. You spent your nights in the gym. Crystals clenched in your unwrapped hands as you pummeled the punching bags. Don’t show pain.

“I’m leaving,” you announced to the almost empty kitchen. Steve and Tony looked at you, their first acknowledgement of you in a week. “I’m taking one of your cars. Don’t try to stop me.”

“We can’t let you leave. You’re a danger,” Steve said the same time Tony said,

“At least tell me what your mother did.”

You looked at Tony, ignoring Steve’s comment. You took a deep breath and told your story, to the surprise of both men. You told them about the discovery of your powers. You told them about your mother’s greed in wanting more. More from you. More powered individuals to serve her. You told them how you walked past dead bodies every day. You told them how your mother hurt you when you broke your stone facade. When you trained. When you failed. You told them how your father blamed you for your mother’s actions. How he wasted away drowning in alcohol. You told them about your mother framing your father.

“I’m going to destroy the organization she worked with.”

“There’s no way to prevent you from killing them,” Steve sighed.

“No, there’s not.”

“How about you don’t die, huh?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, that’s a pretty big priority,” you said and Tony pulled you into a hug. You closed your eyes and savored the moment until you forced yourself to pull away. “Goodbye.”

You retrieved your duffle bag and backpack from your room. The whole elevator ride down to the garage, you fiddled with the car keys. One day you would regret not saying goodbye. You stepped out of the elevator but you were quickly stopped in your tracks by Loki standing in front of the car you were taking.

“I heard you were leaving.”

“Yeah.” You refused to look at the god and loaded your bags into the car.

“I’m sorry. Please, I’m so sorry. You don’t have to forgive me—”

“You’re right, I don’t.” Damn, he was blocking the driver’s door.

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t understand you. I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain. Just let me do one thing. Let me come with you. Please, I want to help you.”

“You’re in my fucking way.”

“Look at me, please.” You obliged. “I want to come with you. I will follow you anywhere.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he cautiously placed a hand on your cheek and you unconsciously leaned into his touch. “Because I love you.”

Fuck, your eyes were misting again. “I-I might go to some dark places.”

“I will follow you anywhere,” he repeated.

“Okay,” you whispered. “You can come.” Loki’s beautiful eyes lit up and went to go to the passenger side. “Wait, Loki.”

You walked over to him and kissed him. You kissed him like you were never going to kiss him again. You kissed him like you hadn’t kissed him in a week, because you hadn’t. You kissed him with everything you had.

“I love you too.”

A/N: I had to put that small Umbrella Academy reference in there, I just binged season 2.

[draconicocelot]

The Little Vampire Fic : Never Again - Part One

Hello again “Little Vampire Fandom”! I’ve been very excited to write this one and I hope you all enjoy!

Summary: Rudolph visits Tony in San Diego only to find out he is struggling.

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

Flying to Tony’s house had become such a familiar route to Rudolph that he could fly to San Diego from Transylvania with his eyes closed. It was a pain to deal with the difference in time zones, the change in weather, and the fact that it was about a 40 hour flight for him. There were definitely some instances in which he wished he could just board a plane like everyone else and almost cut the trip in half, but flying without a plane was much more fun. There was a lot of stopping involved along the way to make sure he stayed out of the sun, but overall, he made it to Tony’s house exactly when he said he would. Tony had just been released on a long weekend and got Friday off, as well as the Monday the next week. They tried to coordinate trips with Tony’s school schedule so that they could see each other as much as possible but also keep Tony’s sleeping schedule as in-tact as it could be. 

As Rudolph flew over the quiet neighborhood where Tony lived, he took a moment to appreciate his surroundings. There was the smell of a distant fire as someone must have been camping out in their backyard. It was on the late side for a family outing, but a group of teenagers was probably taking advantage of the crisp autumn evening. It was always a wonderful temperature there, but some nights got more chilly than others. The wind blew against Rudolph’s face, but he could barely feel a difference since his skin was already so cold to the touch. 

He was almost quivering with anticipation as he reached the familiar white house with four windows on the front of it, a big grey roof, and a fence surrounding a small front yard. It was a nice family home for three people, and since the space was slightly larger than they needed, it was a wonderful location for parties or just having company over. Tony’s bedroom was the last room on the left when he approached the right side of the house. Just as he hoped, there was a singular light shining from his window which meant Tony was still expecting him. The double-hung window was covered by beautiful mulberry colored curtains, but he could see the light slightly peeking through. Rudolph swooped in and leaned against the wall as his long black nails, which could be classified as claws with how long and sharp they were, made a gentle tapping sound against his window. 

Usually, Rudolph heard Tony call out to him and say something along the lines of, “I’ll be there in a second!” or “Coming Rudy!”. However, this time he could only hear the sounds of shuffling feet and a soft thud as if he just got out of bed. Not only that but usually Tony had his room lights turned on so that it was a bigger beacon for him. On this night, Tony had only kept his bedside lamp turned on. Rudolph didn’t have time to think about what was going on as he heard the crack of the window opening slightly. Two hands suddenly squeezed out from under the lift of the window and pushed up on it until Rudolph could fit inside. As he flew through the curtains, he followed through with his habit and shut the window behind him. Tony’s room looked the same way it had when he visited before. The walls were a deep purple color, and with the red-tinted curtains and all of the vampire-themed décor in the room, it almost felt like they never left the castle. Even Tony’s bedsheets had a picture of the traditional Dracula print on them with bat fabric for his pillowcase. Rudolph couldn’t help but feel flattered that he had enough of an interest in vampires that he dedicated his bedroom to them.  

“Tony! It’s-” Rudolph didn’t even get time to speak before Tony had rammed into him, his arms tightly wrapping around his back. Rudolph was shocked, Tony had never acted this way when he came to visit, but he hugged him back. He knew it had been weeks, but they had gone months without seeing each other. Did he really miss him that much? Suddenly, Tony huffed out a laugh and pulled back.

“Sorry… it’s been a rough day,” Tony sighed. His face was barely visible since the only light in the room was coming from the bedside lamp, but Rudolph could see that he was covering his right eye with his hand. “It’s very good to see you Rudy.”

“It is wonderful to see you as well, Tony,” he ran his fingers through his hair until he hit a tangled mass, which Tony seemed to notice.

“So, what do you want to do tonight? Looks like we should deal with your hair first,” Tony chuckled, but his voice was overlaid with exhaustion and another emotion that Rudolph couldn’t quite place. Fear? Anger? Sadness? Pain? 

“I suppose so,” Rudolph copied his laugh, but then floated over to Tony and hovered in the air across from his seat on the side of the bed. “However, first you must tell me what is wrong.” Tony dismissed the request as he waved his other hand in the air and smiled while keeping the upper half of his face shrouded in the dark. 

“It’s no big deal, Rudy. School has just been tough and I…” Tony paused, noticing that Rudolph was not buying it. His arms were crossed and his eyebrow was raised in disbelief. “Okay… fine,” Tony groaned as he lowered his hand away from his eye. Rudolph quietly gasped aloud as he gazed at the swollen purple and black bruise surrounding his eye. It looked awful, and since Rudolph became concerned when Tony even got a papercut, seeing such an obvious injury terrified him.

“T-Tony! What happened?! Are you alright?!” Rudolph flew over to him and put his cold hand against Tony’s cheek. Tony flinched as the whole area around his eye was sore making Rudolph retract his hand immediately. 

“Don’t worry so much, I’m fine. I accidentally tripped and hit this side of my head against my bedpost. It hurts a little bit but it’ll go away soon,” Rudolph took a deep breath as he felt himself relax. At least Tony was alright and that his injury was just a clumsy accident. 

“Well, as long as you’re alright… Then I shall grab the brush,” Tony smiled brightly as he felt relieved that the topic was dropped. He found it strange that Tony didn’t want to talk about it, but he just assumed it was because the fall may have been embarrassing. Luckily, the rest of the night seemed to distract Tony from his bad day. They started by dealing with Rudolph’s tangled hair, which was something that became a habit whenever they got together. Gregory and Anna even made fun of him because they always could tell when he came back from seeing Tony by the fact that his hair didn’t look like a bird’s nest. 

Then they moved onto watching a bunch of cheesy vampire movies which they just ended up criticizing more than actually watching. Tony knew so much more about vampires now, and considering he had the real thing sitting right next to him, they were able to debunk most of the stunts and myths shown in the movies. Either way, it was still fun. The two ended up staying up until about 3:00 a.m before Tony showed signs of falling asleep. They were halfway through their third vampire movie when Rudolph felt something press against his shoulder. When he looked over, Tony had passed out and was now leaning against him. Rudolph smiled as he unhooked his cape from his collar and wrapped it around him. He slowly stood while keeping his arms under Tony so that he didn’t fall over as he grabbed the sheets and pulled them over him. As soon as he was tucked into the bed, Rudolph headed for the window and opened it slowly. Now that Tony was asleep, it was time for Rudolph to go and eat. It had been a long trip after all, but he never wanted Tony to have to worry about that side of the whole vampire thing.

***

As the sun shined in Tony’s eyes, he winced and started to stir. He woke up at about 10:00 a.m with a note left on his bedside table. It stated: “Your father and I are off shopping about ten minutes away. We will be back around dinner time and then we will be off to the theater. Let us know if you care to join us! Say hello to Rudolph for us! Love you!” 

Tony smiled as he set the note back down and stretched, each segment of his spine popping as his back straightened. Bob, Tony’s father, had built him a life-sized coffin for his birthday one year to play pretend with. It was made of real wood, and it was even stained to have a rich cedar finish. While Tony used to use it when he pretended to be a vampire, it eventually became Rudolph’s bed whenever he came over. He even covered the inside with blankets and pillows so it was extremely comfortable. While it was counterproductive to Rudolph’s love of dark and cramped spaces, he came to really appreciate the comfort of the coffin he slept in at Tony’s place.

“Rudy? You still awake?” Tony mumbled as he leaned over to his bedside where the coffin was lying on the floor. 

“Noisy as always, aren’t you mortal?” Rudolph replied, his voice muffled from the thick wooden slab between them. He was satisfied as soon as he heard Tony laugh from inside his dark sanctuary. What he didn’t see was Tony clutching his side and quietly hissing through his teeth as if he had hurt himself by laughing. He grimaced slightly as he pulled up his t-shirt and observed the dark brown bruises that were scattered over his torso like the splotches on a cow’s hide. As he heard the creaking of the coffin door he quickly pulled his shirt back down and glanced at Rudolph with an optimistic smile. 

“Old habits die hard I guess,” was Tony’s response. Rudolph made sure the coffin door was still slightly shut so that the sunlight couldn’t reach him as he smiled up at him. “Oh! Here’s your cape back by the way,” Tony pulled Rudolph’s cape out from underneath the sheets and tossed it over to him. “I guess I’m not used to staying up that late without you visiting.”

“Don’t worry, I only slightly judged you,” Tony stuck his tongue out at him as Rudolph playfully hissed back. 

“Well, I’m going to go get breakfast. I’ll see you again this evening, okay?” Rudolph nodded with a big yawn as he laid back down in the coffin. 

“Good day, mortal,” the coffin lid closed with a thud as Tony made his way out of the room. Rudolph had just managed to settle in when he heard Tony’s phone go off. Usually, he didn’t intend to snoop in Tony’s personal matters, but he had been acting strangely ever since he came. He wasn’t as awake and excited as he usually was, and he seemed to be sensitive when it came to going for a flight or anything that involved a lot of moving. Rudolph respected his boundaries, but he also wanted to help Tony, even if he didn’t want to be helped. As he opened the lid slightly, he was able to slide the phone into his coffin without coming into contact with the sun. 

When he opened the phone he saw Tony’s usual lock screen, which was a commissioned drawing of him and “a vampire” that just happened to look exactly like Rudolph. He couldn’t take pictures with Rudolph since he never appeared in any of them, but he had hired an artist to draw a digital photo of the two of them just from Tony’s description. Surprisingly, the artist drew him almost perfectly. When he looked at the screen, he saw that there was one notification for an email that came in. Rudolph put in Tony’s password, which was conveniently “Rudy” or “7839” in numbers on the keypad. His home screen was actually a picture of Tony and his parents standing in front of the castle they first met in. Tony was on the very end with one arm around his mom and the other around what looked like nothing. He was actually putting his arm around Rudolph, and that was the photo they first took and realized that he could never be seen in them. It was touching either way that that was Tony’s home screen. Even if he couldn’t be seen, Tony knew who was there. 

As Rudolph finally reached the email, he saw that the sender was named Nigel Appleby. He figured it was someone from school or a friend of his in the neighborhood. That was until he read the subject line. “Better Be There”. Rudolph narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he read on further. 

“If you really do have this ‘vampire friend’, how come none of us have seen him? I for one think it’s a shame you have to depend on imaginary friends to keep you company, Thompson. You couldn’t find a real friend even if you tried. Tell you what, you bring this friend of yours to meet us at 6:00 tonight. If you can prove that you’re not spouting nonsense every single day, which you are, then prove it. You wanna be left alone? Here’s your chance, kid. See you then. 

Nigel”

[msmarvel95]

The Meeting

(This will be a series, telling the story of Y/N and Bucky Barnes. )

Word Count: 1469

You woke from your glorious slumber to your dad’s voice booming through the speakers in the compound. “I need everyone down to the common room, that means you too Y/N. You have 10 mins.” You groaned and sat up, wiping the sleep from your eyes, pondering why the universe had decided you were the poor soul, doomed to be Tony Stark’s child. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a wonderful father but sometimes he can be a bit much. And today was one of those days. Willing yourself out of bed, you throw on some shorts and a hoodie, opting to put on your sneakers, because if you were going to be up this early, you might as well get some training in too.

It wasn’t long until everyone began to file into the common room. “This better be good man, you interrupted my beauty sleep.” Sam huffed at Tony. “Ah come on Sam, if you get anymore beauty sleep, you’re gonna put us girls to shame.” Sam threw his head back letting out a thunderous laugh. “Well, that was my plan all along.” He joked back to you, earning him a playful punch to the shoulder. “Alright, now that you all finally made it down here, we have some things to discuss. We have ourselves a new Avenger.” You could hear a pin drop in the room, shocked looks covering everyone’s faces. “A new Avenger? Who is it?” you pressed. Tony only smirking as he motioned to the elevator, as it dinged signaling someone had arrived at the floor. Everyone waited somewhat patiently for the doors to open, when they did, they revealed Steve and not far behind him was Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier.

“No, no! You can’t expect us to put up with Robocop living here can you? I mean, he’s annoying, he has an obvious staring problem, and have we forgotten how he tried to kill us?” Sam ranted.

“Sam, Buck is healing, he spent time in Wakanda and he’s not The Winter Soldier anymore. This will be good for him; it will be good for all of us.” You found yourself only half listening to the ongoing conversation, as your eyes found an entrancing pair of cerulean ones. Bucky looked at you, giving you a sideways smirk that sent a wave of warmth to your cheeks. “Y/N are you even listening to me?” your fathers voice broke you from Bucky’s gaze. “Huh? Sorry I spaced out a little bit, I haven’t had my coffee this morning.” Tony shook his head at you. “I said you will show Bucky to his room, he is on the floor with you and Sam,” You glanced back over at Bucky. “Come on, I’ll show you around.” The two of you entered the elevator as Sam was ranting again, this time about having to share a floor with the super soldier.

“So, this is our floor, we have our own kitchen and living room, Sam and I like to have game nights and movie nights once a week. You’re more than welcome to join us!” You told him as you walked him around the space. You motioned for him to follow you, leading him down the dimly lit hallway. “This is where our rooms are, Sam’s room is the one on your left, and mine is right across from him. You are down here.” You led him towards the end of the hallway. “So, your room is next door?” you grinned at him and looked down at the floor. “Yep!” he looked down, with an unreadable expression written all over his face. “I hope you’re a deep sleeper. I still get nightmares sometimes, despite everything they helped me with in Wakanda.” You gave him a concerned look and placed your hand on his shoulder. “I don’t mind, I have them myself. If you ever need someone to talk too or help you calm down from one, my door is always open, Buck.” He smiled shyly at you as he mumbled a soft ‘thank you’. “I guess I should let you get acquainted with your new room! If you need anything, I’ll be in the gym. You turned on your heel making your way to the elevator, not before turning back towards Bucky. “Oh, and Buck.” He looks up at you quickly.

“Gyms’ on the 4th floor” you give him a small smile

“I’ll see you there in a few, doll.” As soon as the word left his mouth his eyes grew wide. “Sorry I- “

“It’s okay, I kinda like it to be honest. It’s a lot better than some of the names dad and Sam call me.” He lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and smiled.

_*_later that week_*_

“Y/N come on! We’re waiting!” Wanda calls. “Just give me a second I’m gonna see if Bucky wants to join us, some bonding time with all of us would be good for him.”

“Mhmm sure y/n that’s the reason you want him to come, to bond with us.” Clint quipped as he smirked at Nat.

“Assume all you want guys; I just want him to be able to feel comfortable living here. He’s been through so much already; I think he deserves a calm living environment.”

Your knuckles rap on the door to Bucky’s bedroom. After a few seconds, the door swings open revealing Bucky, fresh out of the shower, long chestnut brown hair still dropping beads of water down is toned chest, wearing only a pair of dark grey sweats that are slung low on his hips. You absentmindedly bit your lip while eyeing the former assassin, drawing a grin from him. “Hey doll, what’s up, something wrong?”

“Uh, no nothing’s wrong. I- uh I just wanted to see if you wanted to come down to movie night. We are all meeting up in the common room.” You avert your gaze down to the floor waiting for his response.

“Sure, that sounds like it could be fun. Just let me grab a shirt.”

As you and Bucky walk into the common room, you get teasing glances from Nat and Wanda, as well as an eyeroll from Sam.

“So, what are we watching?” you ask as you sit on the chaise lounge in the corner of the room.

“The Grudge” Sam replies happily

“You guys can’t be serious; you all know how bad that movie scares me!” you scoffed.

“Which is exactly why Wanda and I picked it.” Nat quipped back at you with a smug grin on her face, which always meant she was up to no good.

As everyone took their seats Bucky strolls out of the kitchen, snacks in hand searching for a place to sit. Nat and Clint have taken over the couch, Peter sitting comfortably in the bean bag chair, Wanda and Vision on the love seat and Sam and Steve in their respective recliners. He walks over to the corner where you are sat. “Mind if I squeeze in here with you?” You give him a small nod and a smile. “Sure, given the movie that my so-called friends picked out I’m going to need a human shield, so as long as you don’t mind that.”

He lets out a laugh that sounds as smooth as honey. “I don’t mind protecting you from scary monsters’ doll.” Nat’s head whips in the direction of the two of you at the nickname, wiggling her eyebrows and smirking once again.

As the movie went on, Bucky put his arm around you, pulling you into him slightly.

A rather tense scene turns into a jump scare that causes you to let out a small squeak, tucking your head into Bucky’s shoulder. You feel his chest vibrate as he laughs, placing a soft hand on your head. “Its okay, the scary part is over now.”

“Are you sure” you reply peaking over at the TV. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

After the movie ends and everyone makes their way to their rooms, Steve finds Bucky in the kitchen making himself a drink. “Hey Buck, how are things going?”

“Pretty good actually, way better than I expected.” He stated confidently. “I see you and Y/N have gotten pretty close.” He smiled hearing her name. He’d only known Y/N for a short time, but it was easy to open up to her. She radiated this calming energy, that was unlike anyone he’d ever met. She’d never flinched when he’d brushed her with his metal arm, she never acted like she needed to walk on eggshells around him like everyone else did. She treated him as though he was just a normal guy with a normal past. Could it become something more? He didn’t know the answer to that, just yet. But for now, he’d settle for her friendship.

**If this is terrible I'm so so sorry.. Just tell me if its absolute crap. I've never posted fanfiction except on TikTok. So to say I'm extremely nervous is an understatement. Thank you for taking the time to read this😘

[lyssismagical]

it’s hard to dance with the devil on your back

Febuwhump Day 21-24  – Lethal & Drown & Unwanted & Abandoned

Read on AO3

*

Tony woke to the same damp old cave he’d woken up in last time. Except one thing is different.

There’s a boy, no older than sixteen years old, chained up in an identical wooden chair across from him. The boy is unconscious, curly hair falling in front of his eyes, head resting against his own chest.

A boy.

Not a man. Not an adult. Just a child.

In a cave, somewhere in Afghanistan with crazy terrorists who’ve already done open-heart surgery on Tony without anesthetics. Who knows what they would do, or have already done, to the boy across from him.

“Hey!” Tony says, too scared to lift his voice too high in case they come back for him, but the fear that this boy is hurt runs just a little deeper than the fear of the terrorists. “C’mon, kid, wake up.”

The boy groans, hands clenching into white-knuckled fists, standing out against the rusted metal of his thick handcuffs.

“Five more minutes?”

“Open your fucking eyes, kid, and let me know if you really want another five minutes here,” Tony snaps. He doesn’t know why, but his wrists aren’t cuffed. He’s not attached to his chair in any way, other than the fear pinning him in place, and the pain flaring in his chest.

The boy blinks his eyes open, squinting at Tony. His left eye is bruised almost shut, the purple-blue crossing over his nose and splaying out across his opposite cheek. But he doesn’t pay it any attention as he looks at the bandages on Tony’s chest.

“Sorry bout your heart,” the boy offers, shrugging. His bambi-brown eyes trace up to Tony’s face, taking in the obvious fear and worry. “They’re not coming back for you. Not to hurt you, at least. They’re going to ask you to build one of your missiles.”

“How do you know that?” Tony refrains from trying to find a way to get the boy out of his chains.

“Been here for a little longer than a few months, now. I know a lot about their plans and desires. You being hurt wasn’t part of the plan. They wanted you in peak condition, actually.”

Tony’s jaw drops, eyes widening at the thought. Months. In this cave. By himself from what Tony’s aware of.

“You’re just a kid,” Tony says, fingers twitching against the arms of his chair.

“Trust me, I’m well aware of what kids my age should be out doing, but I was never a child, Mister Stark. Never was, never have been, never will be, at this rate,” the boy says, too casually for Tony’s liking. “Anyways, I’m Peter, just so you know. Peter Parker.”

Something about the boy’s face and last name strike Tony, and he blatantly stares for a few moments until it clicks. “Richard Parker.”

Peter winces, fists tightening. “Unfortunately, yeah, that’s my dad. Not quite dad of the year, though, huh?”

Tony thinks back to the last time he saw that name. In the news, probably. Richard Parker died years back, but Tony doesn’t remember ever knowing about a child.

“Yeah,” Peter says. “He had this whole experiment thing going. He wanted to see if he could invent a serum to regenerate limbs and heal even the worst illnesses, or some bullshit. He got it to work for spiders and then he needed a human trial. Guess having a baby with a few too many medical concerns was enough for him.”

Tony’s heart clenches. He knows he’s only known Peter for a few minutes, maybe a half-hour, but fuck he knows Peter doesn’t deserve the cards he was dealt.

“How’d you end up here?” Tony asks.

“He couldn’t handle a messed up kid, I guess. He sent me to a facility where I could get ‘trained’ or some bullshit. This was a job.”

“To get chained up in a cave?”

The boy laughs. Honest to god laughs. “No, my job is to be like their slave or whatever. I can be a translator. I can help you do what they need you to do. People pay a lot of money for enhanced kids if you could believe it.”

Tony doesn’t want to believe it. He doesn’t want to think about this child being turned into a slave because of somebody else’s mistake.

“Can you get us out of here?” Tony asks because he supposes he has to know.

But Peter just laughs again like it’s the funniest thing in the world. “Don’t you think we’d already be long gone if I could get out? Vibranium cuffs, strongest metal there is.”

The chains clink as Peter lifts his hands, just a few inches away from the chair. There’s the same sort of metal wrapped around his waist, and more around his ankles.

With his hands lifted, Tony sees the dark red stain covering Peter’s grey long sleeve.

“Fuck, what happened?”

Peter looks down like he hadn’t noticed it before and then he shrugs. “Disobeying, probably. I tried to tell them to give you something for the pain. I tried to convince them to take you to a better doctor. They don’t really like it when I try to contradict them.”

Tony wants to ask if he’s okay, wants to demand that Peter never do something like that again, wants to tell the kid that everything will be okay.

But nothing comes out.

And judging by the easy shrug the kid gives him again, and the sad look in his eye when they flicker over Tony’s bandaged chest, Tony won’t be able to keep the kid from being selfless.

Instead, he settles for a quiet, “God, kid.”

And the kid, hands shaking and eyes haunted, nods in agreement.

*

Tony cries out when the men who had entered the room head straight for Peter.

The men block Tony’s view of the kid, crowding around the boy’s chair.

“I’m cooperating!” he hears Peter cry out, before he hears the telltale noise of a hit, echoing in their little cave. “I said I was cooperating!”

Words are spit out in another language, one Tony couldn’t even try to understand, but then Peter’s being tossed onto the ground by Tony’s feet.

Tony reaches for him, never happier to not be chained up, but the men get there quicker, shoving Tony’s hands away and one of them lands a solid kick to Peter’s stomach with their thick boots.

“They want you to build a Jericho missile,” Peter coughs out, rolling up onto his knees even as he gets kicked again, making his movements weaker and uncoordinated.

“A missile?” Tony repeats stupidly, not knowing how to help as Peter goes sprawling back on the ground, a relentless storm of kicks following.

Peter cries out, curling up by Tony’s feet, arms around his head.

“I’ll do it!” Tony shouts, lifting his hands only to let them hover uselessly in the air. “I’ll build it! Please, just stop.”

The men take a few steps back, muttering in the same foreign language.

Finally, one of the men steps forward and grabs Peter by the hair, dragging the boy to his knees and telling him something.

There’s blood staining Peter’s mouth and dirt caking every inch of his body, but he still meets the man’s eye and nods.

A disgusting smile creeps onto the man’s face and he lets Peter fall back to the dirt without warning, turning to his men gleefully.

One man steps forward and clasps a thick band of metal around the kid’s neck, undoing the rest of the chains.

The kid doesn’t make any noises, staying still and quiet like he’s finally decided to stay out of harm’s way.

The first man grabs Peter by the hair again, lifting him to his knees and Peter doesn’t fight it, keeping his eyes downcast, jaw clenched.

As the man speaks, Peter translates to Tony.

“They want a list of the things you need to build the missile. They want you to start making it now, the only chance you’ll have of being set free is if you do what they ask.”

Tony knows what that means, he’ll never be set free. But he can’t stop the question that tumbles from his mouth. “What about you?”

Peter offers a watery smile at that but doesn’t actually acknowledge the answer, continuing to translate to Tony about what they want. And then he translates everything Tony needs to the men, a plan already formulating.

Tony doesn’t know for sure what his grand plan will be, all he knows is that he’s going to get Peter out of here if it’s the last thing he does.

The men finally leave with Tony’s list of equipment, leaving Tony to fall out of his chair to the ground where Peter curls up.

“Hey, hey, buddy, it’s going to be okay, you hear me? It’s going to be okay.”

Peter lifts his head, eyes welling with tears and blood dripping down the side of his head where one of the boots must’ve nailed him, arms wrapped around his stomach, and shakes his head.

“It’s not!” he cries, pressing his face against Tony’s knees. “It’s not going to be okay. You can’t promise me that.”

Smoothing back Peter’s unruly curls, Tony sighs. “I know I can’t promise you much, kiddo, but I promise you that I’m going to find a way out of here.”

And Peter cries, hiding his face away against Tony’s knees on the dirty cave floor, and he cries.

When his head turns, Tony sees the words branded into the metal sitting around Peter’s neck.

Stark Industries.

* “They said they’d hurt you if I disobeyed,” Peter says, offering the can of green beans to Tony. “They said that because I’d gotten too good at taking my own punishments, they’d punish you if I put a toe out of line, and vice versa.”

Tony doesn’t care too much about his own wellbeing. But there’s a spike of fear at the idea that if Tony does something wrong, it’ll be Peter getting punished for it.

“Stop it,” Peter says, rubbing his hands together to try to retain some warmth. “I know what you’re thinking, but I don’t give a shit if I get hurt for you. I’ve been dealing with this for as long as I can remember. I need you to keep doing things out of line because you made me a promise.”

“I’m not letting you get hurt, kid.” Tony shakes his head, passing the green beans back to Peter. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

Peter rolls his eyes, not accepting the can. “Sorry but you promised me you’re going to get us out of here. So if you’re following through with that deal, I need you to do some things out of line. Ends justify the means and all that bullshit.”

It’s a solid point. How is Tony supposed to get them out of here if he follows all the rules to the exact? As much as he doesn’t want the kid to get hurt, when he gets Peter home, he’ll be able to fix him up.

The cave gets dark as they finish up their beans, wordlessly curling up on the small cot together. Tony wraps his arms around the boy, hoping that he can protect Peter better if anybody comes back, but also for the little bit of comfort it provides the two of them in the cold cave.

There’s a part of him that’s revolted by the closeness, the vulnerability of being here with a stranger, but that stranger is a child, one that Tony would already protect with everything he has. Everything that’s led up to this moment, every war profit and weapon, every drunken night spent with nameless faces, none of it matters.

All that matters is getting Peter out of here.

“You know,” Peter murmurs, jolting Tony out of his thoughts. He can’t even make out the kid’s face in the darkness. “I won’t have anywhere to go when you get me out, if you get me out. I don’t have a family waiting for me on the other side of all this. The only people who were supposed to be my family are the people who got me into this in the first place. I’m not like you, Mister Stark.”

“Trust me, kid, I don’t have anybody waiting for me either.”

Peter shakes his head, the movement visible in the darkness. “No, I’ve seen the news, Mister Stark. You’ve got Miss Potts, you’ve got Mister Hogan and Mister Rhodes. You’ve got the entire world caring about what’s happened to you. I’ve got… I’ve got nobody.”

Tony wants to argue, wants to say that Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey are probably glad Tony’s gone. That after all the shit he put them through, they’ll be thriving without him. But that’s not the part that matters.

Instead, he presses a kiss to Peter’s forehead, the way he remembers his mom did for him after nightmares, and murmurs, “You’ve got me now, kid.”

* The men deliver the things that Tony asked for, and the work begins.

Peter, it turns out, is a genius.

He says it’s because he didn’t do much in the facilities he was kept at other than learn. He used to build shitty electronics out of things he found in dumpsters, and he was allowed to go to the library to check out books whenever he pleased so long as he stayed out of the public eye and used a fake name.

So, the ideas start pouring from them, creating blueprints and diagrams for a suit. A superhero suit out of the metal they were given for the missile.

They had to keep it a secret, they had to be extra careful about what the camera saw, and the days were passing, turning into weeks that they’d been there from what Tony could tell.

Tony got hurt a few times. A few awful times where they shoved his head underwater until he thought he would die. But it was only a few times. Peter was always extra careful that if either of them got blamed, it would be Tony, so Peter would get hurt for it.

And Peter got hurt a lot. Too much.

He would be dragged out of the room by the thick metal cuff around his neck, a shock collar Tony learned the hard way, and he’d be tossed back into the cave, sopping wet and shaking, most of the time unconscious.

There was nothing Tony could do.

Nothing.

All he could do was hold Peter close when he fell into the room and hope like hope was enough.

* The men don’t drag Peter out one of the days, they instead handcuff Tony to the cot and carelessly toss Peter to the dirty floor.

Tony doesn’t understand any of the words they spit in Peter’s direction, but the way the kid flinches and cries at the words, Tony gets the gist of it. Even if he didn’t, it’s easy to understand what they’re implying by the way they hit Peter.

“Please,” Peter begs, curling up on the floor, crying out as a boot hits him in the stomach. “Please, I can’t- I can’t-”

Peter’s words get garbled by the noises of the men shouting, and it takes a moment for Tony to understand.

Peter isn’t begging them to stop. He’s begging them to take him out so Tony doesn’t have to see.

And Tony can’t say anything or else it could count as disobeying, and Peter gets hurt for Tony’s mistakes. He doesn’t even know what his mistake was this time.

“No, please!” Peter begs, curling up tighter on the ground. One of the men grabs his arm and drags him up just enough to produce a syringe and plunge it into his arm.

The syringe has Stark Industries branded on the side.

“That’s lethal,” one of the men say, dropping Peter to the floor who writhes and sobs.

They hit him a few more times and then turn to Tony, saying something in another language. When Peter doesn’t say anything, they kick him in the back.

“They- They think you’re not follow- following the rules,” Peter says, voice shaking almost as bad as his hands as he tries to get them underneath him.

“Fuck them,” Tony says. “Fuck this.”

Peter shakes his head, tears dripping onto the dirt. “Mister Stark-”

“Tell them I’m making the missile like they asked, it just takes time. We just need time.”

Peter chokes out the translation to the men, coughing blood up onto the ground.

“It’s not- They said we have to hurry, Mister Stark. They said- They said we’re running out of time. Please, you’ve gotta- please, I can’t- It hurts, Mister Stark, please- I can’t-”

Tony doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the scream that tears through the air, Peter’s body convulsing before he falls to the ground, eyes closed, breathing heavy and erratic.

They shocked him.

They drugged him and they hit him and shocked him.

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Tony shouts, voice breaking. “I’m going to kill every single one of you for this!”

Peter gets kicked a few more times for the threats. And guilt rushes over Tony like a tidal wave. He tugs at the handcuffs, desperate to just hold the poor kid.

“Please, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. Is that what you want to hear? I’m sorry. Just let me hold him. Please, god, just let me hold him.”

But they don’t. They don’t let Tony out of his cuffs, they don’t move Peter from where he’s curled up on the floor, they don’t say anything.

They walk out.

And all Tony can do is sit and watch Peter’s chest to make sure it keeps rising and falling.

He tells Peter about his mom. He talks about her piano skills and the food she used to cook, about how much she loved his father unconditionally even if his father wasn’t the best. He talks about his father and their rocky relationship, how their death forced him so young to take over Stark Industries.

He talks about Pepper and her no-nonsense mindset. About Happy and despite being the head of security, can’t work technology for the life of him. About Rhodey and how he’s stood by Tony’s side as his best friend for decades, without fail, Rhodey’s always there. (He doesn’t bother saying that Rhodey’s not here now when Tony needs him most.)

He talks until his voice is raw and hoarse, until the fire dies across the room, until his eyelids are drooping.

And then Peter moans in pain.

“Mister Stark?” he calls out before he even opens his eyes.

“Yeah, buddy, I’m right here, I promise.”

It doesn’t soothe the boy like he was hoping, instead his bottom lip begins to tremble, and he lifts his shaking hands out in Tony’s direction.

A simple request.

Peter wants to be held.

“I can’t, kiddo. I’m all chained up over here. I can’t get to you,” Tony says, rattling his chains for effect. “You’re not chained up, though. You can come get to me.”

And the kid, he cries.

“Mister Stark.”

“I’m here, kid. I’m here, you’ve got me. Don’t cry, I hate it when you cry,” Tony says, surprising himself at how much he genuinely has grown to care for the kid over the past few weeks.

“Mister Stark.”

Tears spring to Tony’s eyes as well hearing the kid sound so broken. “I’m right here, kiddo. I’m right here. It’s going to be okay. I promised you, remember?”

Peter’s face crumbles. “Mister Stark, they’re coming back. They’re- They’re coming back. I’m- I can’t do it again. Please, I can’t- It hurts so bad, Mister Stark, please, I can’t-”

Lethal, echoes in his head. All he wants is to hold Peter.

The door slams open again, the same men filing into the room, this time, a bucket of water held between a few of them.

They’ve both been through this song and dance before.

“No!” Tony cries out, pulling at his restraints. “No! Don’t fucking touch him!”

Peter sobs, trying in vain to escape the hands reaching out for him, but he’s weak, drugs coursing through his body and beaten within an inch of his life.

There’s nothing he can do.

There’s nothing Tony can do.

Later, long after Peter wakes up after passing out from the waterboarding, Peter crawls over to Tony, rips the cuffs away from his wrists, and they hold each other close and cry.

And Peter lives. Like he always does. And he doesn’t stop taking all of the hits for both of them.

The next day, Peter’s too hurt to leave the cot.

He curls up in a little ball, low whines escaping his throat when he can’t help it, body trembling miserably.

It didn’t help that they waterboarded him in cold water. It made the shivering relentless.

And after the first time, Tony learned that Peter couldn’t thermoregulate.

“You okay, bud?” Tony asks quietly, kneeling beside the cot to push back Peter’s curls, nearly flinching at the heat radiating from the kid’s forehead. Fever, of course.

Peter’s hazy eyes slowly meet Tony’s, empty and haunted. “M’okay.”

It’s a blatant lie, but Tony doesn’t bother pointing it okay. “Okay, buddy. I’m going to get some work done, alright? But you stay right here and rest, and you let me know if you need anything, alright?”

Tony tugs the thin blanket around Peter’s shoulders, gently tucking him in.

“Okay,” Peter whispers, voice hoarse and broken. “Be careful.”

Tony isn’t sure whether he means that Tony should be careful and not get caught doing bad things so Peter doesn’t get hurt again, or if he means to be careful because he’s scared he won’t be able to protect Tony himself.

Either way, Tony nods and offers a weak smile. “Soon, kiddo, soon, I promise.”

It’s not enough. Soon would never be enough. Peter shouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place.

Peter just nods once, curling up a little tighter as his small shoulders tremble.

He’s going to get Peter out of here. Get the kid back to the tower to get some needed medical attention, give him a real bed, a real room, a real home. He had to.

So, he forces himself to cross the room, leaving Peter alone in the cot, looking small and young, and makes himself focus on the task at hand.

He was going to get Peter home.

No matter what.

  * Three fucking months.

Three godawful, scarring, life-changing months that they spend in the cave, working relentlessly on their project.

But it’s finally complete and their plan is in action to get them out of here.

“You ready, bud?” Tony asks softly, cupping the boy’s face. He never thought he’d be the parental type, never thought he’d be a good person for anybody to idolize, but he’s all that Peter has and he has to be enough.

Peter’s eyes are wide and glassy, but there’s a strong determination shining within him as he offers a grim smile.

“Always, of course. Let’s get this show on the road.”

And their plan commences.

Everything works according to plan. The suit, the bomb explosion, it goes well.

But then the panic is showing in Peter’s eyes, fear blazing through the determination. “We don’t have enough time.”

Tony frowns down at the suit encasing his body, holding him to the wall, and the loading bar filling too slowly, and the sound of feet and guns approaching quickly.

Peter’s face falls and his eyes are teary as he leans his head against Tony’s chest, taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, taking a step back and schooling his face into bravery. “I’m going to buy you some time. Follow the plan.”

“No!” Tony shouts, trying in vain to get his arms off the wall, to stop Peter from making this mistake, but there’s nothing he can do but watch as Peter races off down the hallway, grabbing a gun off one of the men who got taken down by the explosion.

There’s nothing Tony can do but follow the plan and just hope he’ll find Peter on the other side of it all.

So he rips himself off the wall, guns blazing and starts off through the twisting cave.

There are no problems as Tony makes his way through the memorized plan, carelessly killing anybody that crosses his path.

These were the people who hurt Peter, he doesn’t give a shit about them.

The light is blinding when he reaches the entrance to the cave, freezing in his steps when he sees the kid.

“Peter,” Tony breathes, pushing the mask off his face and falling to his knees next to the boy sprawled on the ground.

Peter has the audacity to grin up at Tony, fumbling fingers grabbing his arm. “Did I do a good job?”

Tony chokes out a sob, gently cupping Peter’s face. “You did wonderful, buddy. Now we’ve gotta get you out of here, okay? We’ve gotta get you home.”

“Don’t have a home, Mis’er S’ark.”

“No, kiddo, you have a home now. Told you, you couldn’t get rid of me that easily, huh?” Tony says, shaking his head. “I’ll be back for you, okay? I promise.”

Peter nods like he doesn’t believe it and Tony can’t help but to think of Peter when he was a baby, imagining chubby cheeks and a gummy smile and the biggest bambi-brown eyes, being left behind by his father, never to see him again.

Tony can’t help but to think about Peter growing up asking where his parents were, what happened to them, why they never came back for him.

And now he’s being told to wait, by himself, again. Tony can’t help but to think about all the broken promises, to the point where Peter won’t even dare to believe this one.

“I’ll be right back, buddy. Got to make sure it’s safe before I take you anywhere, okay? I’ll be back before you know it, just keep your eyes open, alright?”

Peter nods again, and lets his hand fall from Tony’s arms, offering a watery smile.

Tony presses a kiss to Peter’s head before he turns towards the opening of the cave to get them to safety.

* Tony scoops Peter into his arms without preamble, tucking Peter close to his chest and hoping the metal isn’t too hot against the kid’s skin, it doesn’t help that Tony’s already torched the place and they’ll need to fly through it.

“Got you, kiddo, I’ve got you, just like I promised,” Tony murmurs, taking off towards the sky.

They did it, they’re out of that godawful cave, and Peter is tucked in his arms.

The sky is close enough to touch, heat falling beneath them, and they shoot out of the little village towards the sandy ravines.

Tony keeps Peter close, even as the boots run out of fuel and they finish their arc towards the sand too fast.

Flipping in the air, Tony keeps Peter cradled on his chest and hits the sand on his back. He loses grip of Peter as soon as they hit the ground, the momentum throwing them through the sand.

For a moment, his vision whites out.

And then he’s fumbling to rip the metal off him and stumble through the sand towards Peter’s body.

He can hear a helicopter somewhere overhead and he’s reminded that it’s been three months since he got taken (sixteen fucking years since Peter was) but people were still searching for him. Despite the helicopter, Tony doesn’t bother trying to wave it down. Instead, he heads straight for Peter.

“C’mon, buddy, not the time to sleep just yet. Wake on up, kid, I still need you,” Tony says, carefully drawing Peter into his chest.

There’s blood. A lot of it. Staining the front of the kid’s shirt, but it’s almost always stained with blood, so Tony doesn’t find himself as worried about it. He’s more worried about the rattling breaths Peter’s taking in and the way his ice-blue lips are smeared with blood, despite the heat pounding down on them.

“C’mon, kiddo, I promised you I was going to get you out of there and home. I’ve grown attached to someone for the first time in like a decade, so it would be cruel of you to just ditch me now.”

Peter’s eyes blink open at him, squinting under the sunlight. A lazy smile touches his face and his muscles relax.

“Missed the sun,” he says, voice slurring and hoarse. “Thank you, Mister Stark.”

“Don’t thank me yet, kid. I’m getting you to the best doctors in the world and then I’m showing you to your new home, just like I promised.”

Peter’s trembling fingers curl into Tony’s shirt, clinging to him like a lifeline. “I don’t wanna die, Mister Stark. Please, I can’t- I can’t die, please-”

“It’s okay, kid. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

There’s pounding footsteps heading towards them and all Tony can think is he needs to protect Peter, so he wraps his arms tight around Peter who trembles in his grip.

“Don’t fucking touch him!” Tony snarls protectively, cupping the back of the kid’s neck and holding his head against the crook of his neck.

“Tony, it’s just me, man. It’s okay.”

Gripping Peter tighter, Tony looks up to find-

“Rhodey?” Tony sobs, hanging onto Peter. He can’t even imagine how wrecked they both look, crying in the sand. “Rhodey, fuck, the kid- he needs help. He needs- Fuck, you’ve gotta-”

“Let’s you guys home, alright? It’s going to be okay. You have to trust me though.”

Rhodey looks like he’s going to take Peter from him, arms outstretched, and the kid cowers, crying out in fear.

“Don’t touch him, please, fuck, don’t- I’ve got him, okay? I’ve got him,” Tony says, clutching the kid closer.

Lifting his hands in surrender, Rhodey takes a couple of steps back from them, watching as Tony scoops Peter into his arms, cradling him against his chest as he had before.

Peter hides his head against the crook of Tony’s neck, burning forehead pressing against Tony’s skin, shaking in his arms, tears spilling over his shirt.

“I’ve got you, kiddo, I’ve got you,” Tony murmurs, stumbling forwards. Rhodey gets a good grip on his upper arm and helps haul them towards the helicopter.

“Mister Stark,” Peter whines quietly. “I- I-”

Tony presses a kiss to Peter’s forehead, ignoring the strange look Rhodey sends him. “I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay. Remember, I promised you.”

There’s nothing much Tony can do but spew reassurances like they can fix this.

There’s nothing he can do but hold his kid close and hope like hope means anything.

* As soon as Tony’s cleared in medical, aside from things like starvation and dehydration and sleep-deprivation, among the whole heart surgery thing, plus some pretty nasty burns from the suit, Tony begs everyone he sees to take him to Peter.

He doesn’t care if he looks like a pathetic version of The Tony Stark. He doesn’t care if he looks like a wreck.

All he wants is to hold his kid.

Is that too much to ask?

Thankfully, Pepper arrives to medical pretty quickly, despite everything.

“I need to see Peter,” Tony says before everything else. He doesn’t give a shit about himself or about the company or about the media. “I need- Pepper, I need to see him.”

Pepper sits at the edge of his bed, gently resting her hand on his ankle. “What you need to do is calm down, Tony. Peter’s still in surgery. He’s going to be okay, but you can’t see him just yet.”

“Tears for your long lost boss?” Tony says because he just wants to pretend like he doesn’t feel like somebody scooped his chest clean.

Pepper lets out a watery laugh. “Yeah, I hate job hunting.”

“I can’t make weapons anymore,” Tony says. “You can’t talk me out of it. The people there, they- I can’t do it.”

“Okay,” Pepper says like she gets it, like she understands. “We’ll figure it all out later, okay? For now, I want you to rest.”

Tony shakes his head, awkwardly shoving the blankets off his legs with his left arm in a sling. “No, you don’t understand, I need all production of weapons to be frozen. I need all the exports to be stopped. I need every piece of weaponry with my name on it to be taken back and destroyed. I need you to- to fix this. I’ve made too many mistakes and I need to fix it, Pep.”

Pepper’s hand is soft and cold against his cheek, carefully cradling his face. “Of course, Tony, right away. Do you want to talk about it?”

“They hurt the kid with my weapons, Pep. They- They used my weapons to kill innocent people. My weapons hurt my kid. I can’t- I can’t have them falling into the wrong hands anymore.”

The smile that touches Pepper’s face is proud, proud of Tony, which isn’t something Tony thought he’d ever see. “Your kid?”

Tony’s eyes flicker down to the bed, looking everywhere but at Pepper. “I’m not going to let him down. Not now.”

“It’s a good look on you, Tony. This whole caring thing you’ve got going for you, it’s nice to see. Despite everything, I’m glad Peter has you.”

They lapse into silence, Pepper’s eyes on him but he doesn’t look up.

Eventually, Pepper pats his leg once more and stands from the bed. “Get some rest, Tony. You deserve it. I’ll figure the company out.”

“Send me any updates through JARVIS, alright? I want every weapon recalled immediately.”

“I’ll make it my top priority, Tony.” She stops at the door, eyes glancing down at his bare chest, arc reactor glowing brightly. “He’ll be okay, you know that, right?”

Tony forces himself to nod. “If possible, could you get Happy to make up the guest bedroom next to mine? Properly set up for a teenage boy?”

Pepper nods, hesitates like she wants to ask him something, but decides better of it and ducks out of the room.

After the past three months in the cave, barely hours apart from the kid, Tony can’t sleep by himself. He’s used to curling up in the small cot with Peter, holding him tight to try to stop the relentless shivering.

Now, he’s expected to rest when he hasn’t even seen Peter in who knows how long. He’s expected to be okay with leaving Peter alone with strangers while he does nothing.

He’s spent too long hoping, and now they’ve got it, but it isn’t enough. It won’t feel like he’s safe until he gets Peter in his arms. It won’t feel like he’s made it out of the cave until he’s allowed to speak freely and rest easy, holding his kid in their home.

He hates feeling useless and like there’s nothing he can do. He’s felt like that for three months and he’s sick of it.

But there’s still lingering fear that if he steps out of line, Peter will be hurt for it.

So he keeps his mouth shut and lays still in the hospital bed.

* “Knock, knock.”

Pepper pushes the door open and steps into his room.

It’s been at least six hours since she left, but Tony’s refused to sleep or move from his bed.

“Is Peter okay?”

She offers a soft smile and sits at the end of his bed again. She looks pretty, dressed professionally and well-rested. “He’s still asleep, but you’re allowed over. But first, I figured you’d like to know I have all of our employees working on recalling all of the weapons and all production has been frozen for the time being.”

All the worry rushes out of his body at once. “I can go see him?”

Pepper holds out her hand to him. “Yeah, come on.”

She leads him out of his hospital room and down the hall to another door. She pushes it open to reveal Peter lying in his own identical hospital bed. He has an oxygen mask and a heart monitor and plenty of needles and IV’s.

“He doesn’t like needles,” Tony says. He remembers Peter getting drugged back in that cave and his stomach clenches. “Is he- He looks so pale, Pepper, is he-”

“He’s okay, Tony,” Pepper murmurs, wrapping her free arm around his shoulders and leading him to the chair beside the bed. “He lost quite a bit of blood but he’s on the mend.”

Tony lets go of Pepper’s hand to hold Peter’s, gently squeezing his cold hand. “He can’t thermoregulate. Would you- Would you turn up the heat?”

Pepper does as asked, barely taking her eyes of Tony as she does. “He’s going to be okay, Tony, you don’t need to worry.”

Shaking his head, Tony murmurs a quiet, I know, before tuning her out, focusing solely on the beeping heart monitor.

Pepper leaves him not long later, murmuring something about checking on the progress of his requests, but he doesn’t care. He only cares about Peter’s cold hand in his.

As soon as the door shuts behind her, Peter peeks one of his eyes open. “Mister Stark?”

“You’re a little shit, you know that? I hate you,” Tony says, making sure to throw as much sarcasm and relief into his voice. “They took you to surgery, you realize, for injuries you never bothered to tell me about.”

Peter shrugs, sitting up in bed despite Tony’s protests, and pulling his oxygen mask down so it hands around his neck. “My bad? I heal quick, don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry?” Tony repeats incredulously, grip tightening on Peter’s hand. “Do you have any idea how long your list of injuries is?”

“I was in Afghanistan for seven months, Tony. There was a lot that happened before you were there anyways.” Peter shakes his head, blinking the haunted look out of his eyes, and grinning. “Either way, I feel wonderful but absolutely famished if you’ve got some food around here.”

“If I have food?” The teasing joke dies in his throat though. Even if Tony’s always had food, will always have food stocking his kitchen a few floors up, Tony can’t even imagine how unstable even basic necessities are for Peter.

Peter shrugs again, looking at Tony expectantly.

“Let’s get you cleared by a doctor first, I’m not about to let you wander about without permission.”

Tony hits the button for the doctor to come and looks at Peter with a squinted expression. “I’m guessing you have questions?”

“Where are we? Please don’t say New York. And what the fuck? And also, who was just in here?”

Tony can’t help but to laugh and with the way Peter looks up at him with a wide-eyed expression, Tony wonders if he’s ever done that around the kid. “You’re in California, right now. My Malibu Mansion. And Pepper was in here, my assistant.”

“Like Barbie?”

Before Tony can say anything, Cho walks into the room, sporting a professional smile.

“Hello, Mister Stark, nice to see you looking a little better, as you, Mister Parker,” she says. “How are you feeling?”

The nonchalant, confident Peter from seconds ago seems to have disappeared leaving an anxious shell. His fingers shift restlessly and his mouth is set in a firm line, eyes focused on the floor.

“I’m fine.”

Tony nudges Peter’s arm. “You have to be honest with the doctor, kiddo, she’s just here to help.”

The kid’s eyes flicker to Tony before falling back to the ground. Quietly, almost too quietly for Tony to pick up on, he asks, “You promise?”

“I promise, buddy. Miss Cho just wants to get you back on your feet, just like I do, I trust her.”

Peter sniffles, chewing on his bottom lip. “My chest hurts and my stomach.”

Had Tony been the first person Peter allowed himself to trust? That kind of pressure is almost too much for Tony to handle, squeezing Peter’s hand in his. He doesn’t know how to be that person for the kid. All he knows for sure is that he cares and that he needs the kid to be okay, to feel safe, to have a home in Tony, and he knows that’ll be enough to guide him through the motions.

“That’s to be expected,” Cho says, voice gentler than before and she purposefully moves her hands to her hips so they’re both visible and weaponless. “You had quite a few ribs that were broken and healed improperly. You had a punctured lung when you got here, though it was pretty new. And we used medicines for enhanced people which comes with some side-effects like stomach pain.”

“Yikes,” Peter manages, letting out a choked laugh. “That sucks.”

And Cho smiles, nodding. “Yeah, it does. But we expect a full recovery within a few days with your healing.”

“Could I show him around? Get him some food upstairs?” Tony asks, squeezing Peter’s hand again, smiling when he gets a squeeze back.

“Yeah. I think I’d like to see him again tonight, especially if the chest pain persists, but as long as he takes it easy and rests, I think he’ll be alright to go.”

So Tony takes Peter’s hand, helps him out of the bed and leads him all the way up to the top floor of the mansion, without letting him go.

“You want something to eat?” Tony offers, leading him to the kitchen that Pepper kept well stocked. He wouldn’t be surprised if she stayed on his floor while he was gone. “A sandwich?”

Peter’s face pinches like the idea of a sandwich makes him uncomfortable. “I, uh, I could just go for a can of green beans, honestly.”

“I’m not-” Tony cuts himself off and wonders if this is too big of a jump for the poor kid. Seven months living off gross food in a can, probably long passed the expiry date, in a damp cold cave, all the way to living in a luxurious mansion.

“I, uh, I don’t mind. Whatever works. I just- I don’t know, this is a lot,” Peter says apprehensively. “A little overwhelming.”

Tony can’t physically give him a can of green beans. He can’t do it, but he can do regular fresh green beans and hope it’ll be okay.

“I don’t know if I ever told you, but I, uh, my mom was Mary Parker, well Fitzpatrick. And believe it or not, she was amazing. She loved me so much. I remember she used to make sandwiches for my dad to take to work with him. She used to hang out with me all day while he was working. She would always tease him for wanting the crusts cut off his sandwiches,” Peter explains quietly over his green beans.

Tony can’t help but notice that Peter doesn’t even try to pick up the fork left for him.

It was the same kind of thing for Tony, though. His mom was amazing, loved Tony unconditionally, but she also loved Howard unconditionally despite his devotion to work that took away from them.

“Yeah?”

Peter’s eyes flicker up to Tony. “Yeah. But in the end, she didn’t put up a fight when my dad took me away. She just kissed my forehead and said goodbye like she couldn’t stop it from happening.”

“Nobody’s taking you from me,” Tony says. He doesn’t know if that’s what Peter’s hinting at, but he needs the kid to understand it anyways. “I will fight tooth and nail if anybody tries to take you from me. I’m not letting you go, ever.”

And Peter’s shoulders droop, blinking a few times. “Yeah, of course, yeah. I know. I just- I don’t know. This is really new to me.”

Tony offers a reassuring smile. “It’s new to me too, don’t worry, but I know for sure that you can’t rid of me anymore. You’ve got me on your side. No matter what.”

Nodding, Peter finishes off his green beans and offers a tentative smile. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for this one, kid… I’ve also decided to stop all weapon production. Pepper’s recalling everything, making sure none get made from us anymore. I should’ve realized how much harm they were doing earlier-”

“Yeah, of course, that’s good,” Peter says, cutting him off. He looks paler than he had seconds earlier and Tony realizes Peter probably doesn’t want to hear about weaponry this soon after their rescue. “Could I actually lay down for a bit? You heard Miss Cho, gotta get my beauty sleep.”

Tony shows Peter to his bedroom, making a mental note to thank Happy for the very quick work he did in fixing up the bedroom right beside Tony’s.

“Get some rest, kid. Let me know if you need anything, alright? I’m just next door,” Tony murmurs. He pauses at the doorway, hand hovering over the lightswitch.

“Could you, uh, could you just leave it on?” Peter asks, letting out a nervous laugh. “I’d rather not be in the dark anymore, you know?”

“Course, kid, yeah.”

Peter nods a few times, sitting on the edge of his new bed. “Night, Mister Stark.”

Later, Tony will realize that as soon as he closes the door beside him, Peter races into the connecting bathroom to throw up and talk himself out of a panic attack before bed.

Later, he’ll realize Peter moves the pillow and a few blankets onto the floor because he doesn’t feel comfortable on the soft mattress after seven months on the godawful cot.

Later, he’ll learn that Peter curls up in a tight ball and cries himself to sleep.

But for the moment, Tony just turns and closes the door, unable to offer any help if Peter doesn’t want it. He just hopes Peter will come to him if he needs it.

* Tony jerks awake at the sound of his door opening. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but he supposes even he has to sleep at some point.

He’s reaching for his nightstand, for some weapon, when the light spills in to reveal Peter standing there.

The kid is crying quietly, shuffling on his feet like he can’t make up his mind, and then he’s scurrying into the room on almost silent feet.

“Kid?” Tony murmurs, slowly lifting up in bed to squint at the kid who jumps at his voice.

“Mister Stark,” Peter cries, hands lifting out towards him. A child asking to be held. “Can’t- I can’t sleep alone, I can’t-”

Tony shushes him gently, silently lifting his blankets.

The kid crawls into the bed without a second thought, curling up against Tony’s side like they’re still sleeping on the tiny cot. He hides his face in Tony’s shirt, nearly cutting his cheek on the edge of the arc reactor, crying into the fabric.

“I- I dreamt I was drowning and I- I couldn’t get to you and I tried- I tried so hard, Mister Stark, but I couldn’t- I couldn’t-”

Tony gently smooths back Peter’s curls, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “We’re okay, kiddo. I’ve got you. We’re safe now, we’re out of there. We’re safe, I promise.”

“I just wanted my nigh’light,” Peter admits through his hiccuping sobs, shaking fingers tapping on the glowing arc reactor. “I- I- I woke up and I thought you were gone.”

“I’m here, bambi, I’ve got you.” Tony wraps an arm tightly around Peter’s waist, holding him close.

Tony keeps up a litany of reassurances and soothing words until Peter’s trembling ceases and his tears slow, knowing that they’re safe now so the words are what matters, not just another way to get them through the pain.

“Get some rest, kiddo, I’ve got you, I’m here,” Tony murmurs, kissing his forehead again.

“They’re not- They’re not coming back?”

Rage flashes through Tony’s chest and he silently swears he’ll kill every single person who hurt Peter with his bare hands. For now, he soothes Peter’s fears softly. “No, you’re safe now. I’m going to protect you, kid, I’ve got you.”

“You won’t- You won’t send me away?”

“You’re my kid now, Peter, nothing’s going to take us away from each other, okay? I promise and I don’t break my promises, do I?”

Peter giggles through the leftover tears, his laughter like the sun finally peeking through the clouds after a storm. “No, you don’t.”

“See? I promise you, it’s going to be me and you now, and I’m going to keep you safe.”

Peter finally relaxes, eventually slipping back to sleep in Tony’s arms.

And it’s not okay, they’re still pretty far from it, but for now, it’s enough. It’s enough to hold each other close and rest.

Later, there will be a lot to deal with, a lot to work through, the longest list of trauma to face, but as long as they have each other, there’s nothing they can’t do.

[kittybellestark]

Falling Apart At The Seams

Part 4 of 5

Read Part 3 

Read on AO3

Part 5 will be out a little bit late because I have to drive across the country and back to get my brother, but it is already written so have no fears, you will receive the final part.

TW: conversations about past sexual assault, ptsd, trauma post kidnapping.

-

Tony was used to being kidnapped. 

It was old hat. An easy routine. Get kidnapped, find out who has him, learn the motive, then pull out a bad ass move and break out. 

Simple. 

Coming back and re-adjusting to regular life though? That always hurt. Sometimes it was physical but most of the time it was mental. Finding a new pattern and safe space. Places where Tony used to feel his safest were regularly torn from him, beds, showers, garages. He didn’t find much comfort in the dark, or looking up at the sky at night, pools and baths were a nightmare and these were all things he once loved. Tony just needed to do this again.

It was always a struggle for Tony. His mind was always too fast, it was why he couldn’t sleep as a child or even now. His mind goes too fast and it’s impossible to stop. Tony was never able to describe what it felt like to think to others, but he imagined it as NASCAR on drugs with trains derailing, there was heaviness and music and commercials, impossible to solve problems and lectures from MIT. Where most people would already be moving on from being kidnapped Tony was still living through it, the entire experience on repeat, volume turned all the way up. Re-adjusting was the hardest part.

If he was anyone else, it probably wouldn’t be like this. 

Tony hated the shame he felt being wheeling into the tower. He hated that Peter was in the room, listening to Mary shouting her confessions as she pulled and pushed trying to get out of the grips of Natasha and Clint. Screaming desperately to Peter that she wanted to give him another sibling, how Peter was named after his father. Watching Peter’s face fall, watching him realize who Tony was as he was rolled in behind Mary on a gurney- that was torture. 

And Tony was helpless. Normally Tony would talk, say something to Peter, anything to get that look off his face. The look of betrayal, hurt, denial. But none of this was normal. It’s not normal to find out you’re abandoned child is also the one you invite into your home and watch movies and create things with. 

Tony was still dealing with the effects of the drug as he was wheeled in, which left him incapable of doing anything. Useless, even.

Peter didn’t deserve this.

“... Because it was an Avenger arrest and Mary admitted to what happened in 2000 she’s going to be held in a secure Avengers facility instead. Jimmy said the FBI approved Peter and May staying in New York because of everything.” 

Sure, yeah, an Avenger arrest. It was mostly a Pepper arrest. Pepper was definitely the strongest Avenger. And she wasn’t even an Avenger. Well a case could be made for her being an honourary Avenger. An Avenger by association. 

“Rhodey, I appreciate you, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

Pepper moved across Tony’s Medbay room, staying behind Rhodey, careful to keep her distance. Rhodey frowned, squeezing Tony’s hand. Tony squeezed back, thankful to have a wonderful med-team who reversed the drug’s effects instead of making him wait it out.

“Tony,” Pepper spoke softly, carefully, “Peter is your child, he is upstairs hurt and confused. I know it’s going to take you time to come to terms with everything, no one is expecting any less. But, that child you thought you’d never meet is here and you know how good he is.”

Peter was good. Undoubtedly one of the best kids out there. Kind, caring, doing his absolute best. Peter was a treasure. An anomaly. Spent the first half of his life in an abusive home, put into witness protection, full identity change and still lived a life full of trauma. And yet Peter was full heartedly kind. And he was Tony’s son. His child. The one he sent years running away from. Peter came from bad, lived right through it all still trying to make it to the other side. 

He was a ray of sunshine to Tony and the Avengers. Bright eyed and still so innocent, yet incredibly snarky. But the memories, they’re tainted now. Which of Peter’s mannerisms come from Mary? What parts of Peter come from Tony. Every moment from lab days to movie nights, team dinners all covered with the memories of what Tony did to Peter. And what Mary did to Tony. Tony left him with Mary to grow up, let him be in her presence and learn from her. 

It’s been fifteen years of guilt. Sixteen years of self-hatred. Twenty-four hours a day re-living the feeling of absolute torture. Five years of not being able to wear a watch because it felt too much like he was being chained. Eight years where Tony couldn’t sleep on a bed that touched a wall. Tony has struggled since the moment he woke up on the creaky mattress. He has struggled every time he goes outside to see someone who is pregnant, and whenever he see’s a child.

“I don’t know if I can. I’m not- I can’t- what if I look at him and can’t see anything past her. I can’t be a person he can go to if I see him and only remember where he came from.”

Peter was upstairs. His child, his son, who he abandoned. Tony knew that child Mary was carrying was his, of course he knew. He was forced to watch her as her pregnancy progressed up until the start of the third trimester. Mary ruined Tony’s life in the quest for a child. Tony didn’t want to ruin Peter’s life because he was running from the months of torture and a child he never met.

It isn’t like Peter’s life hasn’t already been filled with trauma. Peter already had to deal with being in witness protection, Mary trying to kill him, kidnap and sell him. Now not only would Peter learn how he was a product of rape, but he’s been raped too. Not only was Peter the product of rape, he was named after Tony. Mary had named Peter after the person she raped, and how was Peter supposed to live with that knowledge? Tony could hardly stand it himself.

“If you’re worried about Peter because of your past, then you’re already doing better than you think you are.” 

Pepper was too nice to him. She was too nice to a person who knowingly abandoned their child. Tony set Peter up for a life of misery. Because of Tony Peter had to go through all that he did. What happened to Peter was all Tony’s fault. He should have done better. Tony should have done better the night he was taken, and he should have done better when his fate was sealed. Instead Tony didn’t only let himself suffer but Peter as well. 

A knock at the door stopped the conversation from moving any further.

May Parker stood there, and it was obvious that she was tired. Her hair was pulled back into a sloppy bun, her face red, and there was a fading water stain on her old grey sweater. Even though she looked exhausted she kept herself to stand in a guarded way, like she was trying to keep the exhaustion and emotions away.

“I have a teen upstairs who exhausted himself out from his hysterical crying. A super soldier had to restrain Peter to stop him from hurting himself. We need to talk. Any chance we can be alone?”

Peter needed to be restrained. He was hurting himself in his hysteric’s and Tony couldn’t help but blame himself. If he had done better, looked at the pictures or not been kidnapped again Peter wouldn’t be in pain. Mary said everything, she screamed it all for Peter to know and now Peter was hurting. Tony should have been better. He could have done more to make sure this never happened. Peter was hurting because of the truth and the way it was delivered. Things should have been explained to Peter in a better way. Peter didn’t deserve this.

“Uh,” Tony hesitated. Pepper left the room but Rhodey stayed. “I’m sorry, Rhodey needs to stay here. I can’t- uh, we’ll not even get to a conversation if he leaves.”

Her eyebrows raised, but she seemed to accept this stepping into the room anyways.

Tony tried to pretend that he wasn’t bothered by her presence. That her brown hair wasn’t actually brown, that May wasn’t a woman standing over him in bed. She was just Peter’s aunt. May wasn’t Mary even if her name was one letter removed. Rhodey is here and he won’t let anything happen. He’s had Tony’s back since MIT, it’s not like Rhodey will turn his back on Tony now. They’ve been through too much together.

“So you and Mary?” The rest of the question left unsaid.

“He was born in April, right? Of 2001?”

Looking at May wasn’t going to work. She wasn’t using her nice face. She was too close. Tony was too guilty. He never should have left that party, not with Mary. It would have been so much easier if that night he’d gone to Happy and Rhodey before he left. Everything would have been easier had he just taken some responsibility.

“So you knew you had a child,” Angry, May was so Angry. Tony just needed to not think about it, “you knew about Peter.”

Rhodey’s hand was warm. Tony appreciated the comfort he was getting despite not doing anything that deserved it. If anything Tony deserved to be punished for what he’d done. For abandoning Peter with Mary. For letting himself get kidnapped by her again.

“I went missing in 2000. About half way through the year. Suddenly I reappeared in January of 2001. Rumors went around that I was in rehab or other’s believe it was a really bad bender, we never denied any of it. No one knew what actually happened until two years ago when I told Pepper what happened. I was supposed to be a playboy, no one was going to believe me.”

The silence was deafening. 

Every second that May didn’t speak was another second that Tony imagined a slow, painful death at her hands. She wouldn’t believe Tony, there’s no reason she should. Tony had a reputation, and people couldn’t see past that. He put on an impeccable mask for the public to tear apart so no one would know what he’s actually like. It was a great mask, a great cover, a great story, but it had come back to haunt him before and this will just be the same. May wasn’t going to believe that Tony Stark, Iron Man, an Avenger, was kidnapped by some Mary Benson. No one was going to believe him.

He never wanted anyone to know. 

What if no one believed Tony? He would lose all his friends, his life. Tony would only have Pepper and Rhodey. While once in his life they were all he had, now Tony had so much more. He didn’t want to lose the people he had now because of one person.

Tony needed to be alone. He can’t do this. Mary ruined his life, both now and sixteen years ago. She took a hold of Tony’s life and wouldn’t let go.

“So Peter is... Mary raped you?”

That was disbelief. That was disbelief. May didn’t believe him. Tony never gave her any opportunities to actually believe him. He took Peter out of the country without her consent and never told May about Spider-Man. Those were very big reasons to never believe a word out of his mouth. Tony wasn’t trustworthy. May will think things were the other way around. Of course she will, these things don’t happen to a guy because of a girl.

Tony needed to breath. He needed to answer May.

Words. Tony just needed to find words. He needed to answer her. Words. They do the things that lets him communicate. Words have always been easy. He just needed to vocalize. Admit what happened to someone who isn’t Pepper or Rhodey. Just confirm it.

Speak, Tony. Speak!

“Yes,” Rhodey answered, his voice strained, “Mary kidnapped him and abused him for months. Peter only exists because of it. Tony never wanted what happened to him and he’s been struggling ever since.”

Again there was silence.

The silence wasn’t very nice. It was tense and it hurt, sharp around all the edges. And Tony’s chest hurt and this was all his fault. There was no one else to blame. Tony should have done better.

“Oh. Tony... You- oh.”

She understood?

May understood. She understood. There wasn’t going to be screaming or yelling or arms waving in the air. No telling Tony he’s a bad person or that he’s a liar and did everything that Mary actually did. He wasn’t being told he was wrong for abandoning Peter or that he should own up to his mistakes. There was just understanding.

Tony finally looked up at her. His eyes were filled with tears making May blurry. But he could see her enough to see the pain she was in. The pain he created was written all across her body. Her hunched shoulders, the hands covering her face, the space between her eyebrows creased, the way May was leaning completely forward. Tony caused her pain.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, May.”

May straightened herself out, letting herself sob only once. “Tony, it’s not your fault. I don’t blame you. Peter won’t either. We’re family now so we’ll get through it. We’ve got this”

Family. Huh. How about that.

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[sassy-pelican]

Touch Starved: Bucky Barnes

I finished the long ass fic mentioned in this post. As requested, I am tagging @ruckystarnes. I don’t know if this counts as part of the challenge for today (Oct 14) but I am going to tag it anyway, since technically they didn’t have sex on a bed.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Premise: As an old friend of Sam Wilson you knew you could count on him when you needed. When you lose your apartment due to a nasty breakup, he offers you a place the Avengers* Compound, for a small price; you have to cook at least once a week. As you get to know the individuals better, you learn that Bucky Barnes has a super-soldier appetite for more than just food.

Warning: Language, fluff, humor, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), 18+, nsfw

*Resident Avengers: Steve, Bucky, Natasha, Wanda, Vision, Sam, Bruce. This is set after Civil War and is AU. Bucky also has his new arm featured in Infinity War and Endgame. Except for Bucky’s arm and the new Bruce/Hulk, the events of the last two movies didn’t happen.

A/N: As mentioned in the post linked above, this is not at all what I set out to write. Although, I don’t actually know what I set out to write so that might be the problem. Anyway ... this is long (actual content is 4615 words), I could have added more but I figured I should stop. At least for now. The title also has nothing to do with the smut. This is unedited.

The day you walked in on your boyfriend of three years fucking some random bitch you didn’t realize how much your life was going to change. You had only stood there, open-mouthed and gaping as he fucked her into next Sunday. The Chinese takeout slipping from your hands you stared as it hit the ground, interrupting their fuck-fest.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Jason, the douchebag, just stared as he debated trying to explain.

“Who are you?” The woman asks. You close your eyes, trying to gain a semblance of decorum before opening your mouth. To hell with it.

“I am, was, his girlfriend. Of. Three. Years.” Her eyes go wide, hands clutching the sheet she was using to shield herself tighter now.

“Jason?” Her whiny voice is pleading. You want to vomit.

“Get out.” You mutter, barely above a whisper. They both hear you anyway. “Get out of my apartment!”

Hurriedly, they scramble for their clothes. Jason sends me a pleading look. “Baby…”

“Don’t.” You look him in the eyes, forcefully holding in the tears. “You don’t get to call me that. Not now. Not ever.”

“But –” You pick up his pants, the ones he still hasn’t put on, and throw them at him.

“I. Said. Get. Out.” He doesn’t argue after that.

You ate the Chinese food a few hours after they vacated the apartment. You sold it a few weeks after he came and picked up his stuff; the stuff you unceremoniously threw on the sidewalk.

~

The phone to Sam was a no-brainer. While the two of you had grown apart recently due to circumstances neither one of you could control, you knew him. You knew that in a pinch, he would help. Still, your voice shook as you explained. “I need a place to stay.”

“Of course. Although, I might mention that my current lodgings aren’t what you’re used to.” He says, rather sheepishly for Sam Wilson.

“What do you mean?” The phone becomes heavy in your hands as you await his response, the silence and his breathing on the other end deafening.

“I live at the Avengers Compound.”

“Oh.” You pause this time. “Am I allowed to stay over?”

“You are now.” He says as if it is the most obvious answer in the world.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Just cook for everyone once a week, maybe more, and they won’t ever let you leave.” He said jokingly. You didn’t take it as a joke.

“Does anyone have preferences?”

~

The first night you were there everyone paid you far more attention than you cared for. You knew it was because of your status as a civilian in a place no civilian, except maybe someone’s bed partner for the night, ever stepped foot.

“Guy’s, this is [Y/N]!” Sam yells excitedly. You cringe alongside a few others. “She is staying here for a while.” He doesn’t let anyone question you as he pulls your arm and forces you to follow him to the room, he deemed adequate for his ‘best lady-friend.’

“I apologize in advance.” He turns to me. “You’re next to Barnes.”

“Why is that bad?”

“The walls are soundproof enough, but not completely. He has terrible nightmares; even after his time in Wakanda. This is the best room available though, so you’ll have to make-do.”

“Honestly, I didn’t expect to be welcome at all once  I heard where you live.” You mumble. “I’m sure the room will be fine Sam. Now, go hang out with your super-friends.”

He laughs, but does as you ask, only after dropping your bags on the floor.

With your own personal touches, the grey room won’t be bad, it just needs some love. Huffing out a sigh, you begin to unpack.

Hours after your arrival, the room to your liking, and everyone mildly accepting of your presence, you begin to plan the first meal.

~

The first meal was anything but boring. You decided to go with a classic: spaghetti and meatballs. You knew what you wanted, but now you needed the quantity resulting in a rather awkward conversion with Sam.

“How much does everyone eat?”

“Huh?”

“How much does everyone eat?” You ask again. Sam just stares at you.

“You’ve seen me eat, so like two servings of whatever for me. Wanda and Natasha eat like normal humans. Steve and Bucky eat enough for three people maybe four, and Bruce eats enough for six.”

You nod. Four hours later, twenty meatballs in, and five pounds of spaghetti later, you are ready to face the critics. The sound of everyone returning from their briefing with Tony before he left to go home lets you know it is time.

“What’s going on?” Wanda asks, Vision at her side.

“I made dinner?”

“You made all this?” Steve asks, dumbfounded.

“Yeah. It’s just spaghetti, albeit five pounds, but it is just spaghetti.” Everyone stares at you. “There are meatballs on the tray over there,” you point to them, “noodles and sauce are on the stove.” You swallow audibly and wait for everyone to react.

“How many meatballs did you fix?” Sam asks.

“Twenty, so eat sparingly.”

“Well I don’t know about you guys, but I am having five!” Sam says.

“You are not!” You yell. Looking at everyone you smile. “Well, this isn’t a five-star restaurant, this is buffet style. Serve yourselves.”

They did. Between you and everyone else, there wasn’t a scrap left.

~

It had been weeks and you hadn’t heard Bucky have a nightmare. Tonight though, you did. It wasn’t loud, but that didn’t make it any less disturbing. The low moans and groans from your shared wall made you want to hug him. You didn’t know if he would like that, so you stayed where you were. Sleep didn’t come easy, the sounds he was making haunting you as you tried to close your eyes.

The next morning, he didn’t come out for breakfast. Silently, and after everyone left for their various tasks, you plated a stack of blueberry pancakes, a bottle of syrup, butter, and a fork, and knocked on his door.

“Bucky?” You ask through the door.

He doesn’t answer. You knock again. “I have pancakes.” He doesn’t respond, not even a rustling.

“James Buchanan Barnes! If this door is unlocked, I am coming in!” Adjusting your hold, you try the door, unlocked.

Cautiously, you open it. He is sitting on his bed, bent over, head in his hands, hair a mess, and back dripping with sweat. “Bucky. You need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I don’t care.” You set the plate and other things on the dresser. “Get up.” This time your tone is forceful.

He lifts his head, surprise on his features. “Get. Up.”

Reluctantly, he does. You hold out your hand. To your surprise, he takes it. “Eat. Then I will sit in here and help you fall asleep.”

“I can’t. I can’t fall asleep.” He mumbles, already digging into the food.

“You can.” You look at him, and he looks hollow. “You can Bucky.”

“How?”

“Let me help you.” You stare him down, or rather up. “I went through something similar with Sam when he first came back. Let me help you.”

He nods, continuing to eat. “Do you have a hairbrush?” You ask.

“In the drawer.” He points to his nightstand. You nod, retrieving it.

“Finish your pancakes.” It doesn’t take him long. The empty plate forgotten on the dresser is not your priority.

“Sit.” You gesture to the place in front of you, between your legs.

Your fingers find his hair before the brush. Combing through it lightly, you scrap his scalp, only a bit. His shoulders relax after a few minutes. They relax even more as you use the brush. Minutes, hours, whatever pass, and he is leaning back unconsciously. Without thinking, you pull him down. His head now rested on your chest, arms encircling his. His breathing is even, eyes closed as his face is turned up to the ceiling.

“Sleep Bucky.”

It doesn’t take long before he does. It doesn’t take long before you follow him.

You wake to his head buried in your chest, and your hands woven into his hair. His breathing is the most even you have heard, even more than when he is ‘relaxed’ with everyone. Absentmindedly, you run your fingers through his soft hair, the feeling cathartic even for you. It doesn’t even look like he moved, except for the fact that it is his face and the back of his head resting against you.

Looking at the clock beside his bed, you notice the time. Four hours. We’ve been asleep for four hours. Better than two, you surmise, but six would have been better. You can feel him begin to stir and hope he doesn’t overreact at the position.

“Bucky?”

“Huh?” He groans. The arms that are around your waist tighten, the vibranium now almost warm against the sliver of skin between your shorts and shirt.

“We probably need to get up.” You answer his muffled and incomprehensible question.

“Why?” Raspy, that’s what you’d call his voice, and despite your best efforts, it sends shivers down your spine.

“We’ve both been asleep for four hours.” You pause. “And I have to pee.”

He nods, barely, before lifting his head and looking around. The realization of where he has been hits him and his eyes go wide. You lock your arms, holding him tighter so he can’t move. “Bucky. It’s fine. Nothing happened. You were sleeping. I was sleeping.”

“Right.” You let go of him, and he stumbles off of you. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

~

For a few weeks the nightmares continued. Each time you would hesitantly go to him. You knew from Steve that he could get violent, not on purpose, but because he doesn’t know where he is. He never so much as laid a hand on you.

Every night it was the same. You would hear his groans, the sad and heartbreaking sounds of a broken man trying to heal, and his subconscious not letting him. You would open the door and be met with his hunched over and shaking figure, face usually wet with tears he never admits to. And every night, you would end up laying with him like that first day. And ever morning, you would wake up just as you did the first.

However, one seriously bad week had you questioning your tactics. Night after night, it would happen. Not once was there a break. Even with your nightly visits, he looked exhausted and haggard. “Bucky?”

“Yeah?” Everyone else had left the kitchen, leaving the two of you to clean up again.

“Why don’t I just stay with you tonight? It might help.” He stiffens at your suggestion.

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You haven’t hurt me yet. And I don’t believe you will.” He sends you a pleading look. “Even if you do, it won’t be consciously.”

After a few choice words and more persuading on your part, he relents.

That night, you crawl into bed with him, back against his chest, and his arm slung around your waist. A new position, but not one any less comforting. His warm breath on the back of your neck almost tickles, but you don’t move. “Sleep Bucky.”

“G’night [Y/N].”

You are startled awake when you hear a loud bang from his bathroom. Bucky is no longer beside you, his side of them bed cold. Hearing a strangled sob, you jump up. “Bucky!”

The sight of him, curled into his self on the shower floor, water that is far too hot scalding his back, almost breaks you. “Bucky look at me.” You plead.

He does, his eyes rimmed with red and all but hollow. “I killed you.” You don’t interrupt him.

“I killed you. The one person that doesn’t want me to put on a brave face. I still had my other arm, and it was wrapped around your throat. You died.” At every word another tear falls from each of you.

Without thinking, you get into the shower with him, cooling the water down some. You take his flesh hand and put it against your heat. “Bucky. I’m here. I’m real. You didn’t kill me.” The shakiness of both your breathing is the only sound except for the water.

“But I could’ve.”

“But you didn’t. You didn’t touch me.” You hand squeezes his and he nods. Let’s get you out of your wet clothes and cleaned up okay?”

Again, he only nods, but he allows you to strip him of his soaked shirt and pants. You do the same. Standing with him, naked, you hug him tighter than normal. “It’s okay.” For once, the feeling of his soap doesn’t bother him. The grime from his hair that he hasn’t washed in too long, falls down the drain as you massage his head.

“Thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for.”

Dry, and somewhat clothed, you climb back in bed with him. Only this time, you are wrapped around him, his head in your chest once again.

~

Months of the same pass. The nights spent laying in one of your beds. The hot showers that calm him when he wakes from a particularly bad nightmare. But they are getting better. The time he wakes up fewer. The nights that he has to relive or watch a new horror in his dreams are less. Still, you sleep next to him. Neither one of you know how to fall asleep without each other now. The feeling of him beside you, calming in a way you never expected.

Soon you find yourself laying gentle kisses on the top of his head when you think he’s asleep. Most times, he isn’t.

~

After almost a year, you are family to everyone. And you have accepted that you aren’t going to be moving, even if you wanted to. Not that you want to. The weekly meals are the highlight of everyone’s week. Your spaghetti is still their favorite, however, you’ve taken to making six pounds and at least thirty meatballs now.

No one comments on the sleeping arrangements between you and Bucky. Neither of you really talk about it either. It just is. Sam threw a hissy fit when he saw the first time, but has grown to accept it, begrudgingly.

Either way, it continues. Although, you feel as if there is a new element of intimacy to it. The gentle kisses on his head aren’t just once in a while, they are every night. The soft caresses of his back as he hugs you tight, are frequent. The line of friends and more than is blurred.

~

On the one-year anniversary of that first meal, you fix spaghetti again. As everyone is cleaning up, you and Bucky in the kitchen, you notice the change.

He is happier. He looks better, more whole. The light that you knew was there before is back in his eyes. As he hands you a dish to dry, his eyes meet yours. The bright blue far less grey now. The smile he sends your way crashes over your senses. You almost crumble.

You are in love with Bucky.

~

That night, the dynamic changed. The purely platonic feeling of sleeping with him has charged energy. The kiss you give to the top of his head, shampoo still smelling heavenly, isn’t cold. It’s warm, it has sparks.

Long after he falls asleep you are still awake, hands running through his hair. Lifting yourself up, you press your lips to his cheek, lingering a bit too long.

“I love you.”

Content, you lay your head against his chest and listen to the beating of his heart. A beat you should have noticed was far too erratic to be asleep.

Long after you are asleep, he runs his own fingers through your hair. Gently, he places an identical kiss to your cheek.

“I love you too.”

He doesn’t notice the slight change in your breathing, even if he should. Because no matter how either one of you put it, you both confessed your love to someone you thought asleep.

~

The next day is awkward, neither one of you sure how to act around the other after the late-night confession you both thought one sided. The words you whispered to each other are now known and yet unknown to the other.

The night when you climb into bed beside him it feels different. Something feels wrong; like the soft-spoken confessions altered the comforting embrace from before.

Gathering all your courage, you speak. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” His voice hitches. He knows exactly what you are talking about.

“Did you mean it when you said you loved me too?” This time, it is your voice that cracks. He doesn’t say anything for a while. Your nerves getting the best of you, you move to roll over.

“Yes.” He holds you in place, not allowing you to move away from him. “Yes I meant it.”

“I meant it too.” The silent tears of happiness refuse to fall as he looks at you.

He nods before pulling you impossibly closer. “Good.” He places a gentle kiss atop your head, one so like the ones you did countless nights before. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~

Despite the half-asleep and fully awake confessions to one another, not much pans out. The physicality of your relationship doesn’t change much. A few soft touches here, a few brushes there, but no kisses. Not yet. Not even in private.

“Bucky.”

“Huh?”

“Kiss me.” You didn’t dare say it before you entered the sanctity of his room. Didn’t dare disrupt the delicate balance in place.

He doesn’t move. You don’t say it again. “What is holding you back?”

“I still feel like this is a dream.” He looks at you. “If I kiss you, I might wake up.”

Stepping closer, you place your hands on his shoulders. “This isn’t a dream Bucky.”

“But what if it is! What if th-” You don’t let him finish. Cutting him off, you gently press your lips to his, waiting for him respond, to react.

It takes him a while. But the long seconds pass when he cradles your head in his hands and pulls you closer. The silent and urging press of his lips against yours, not moving, but there, makes you melt. You pull away to breathe.

“Not a dream.” You gasp, still trying to get air. He shakes his head, forehead resting against yours.

“No. It’s not.” You can’t answer him before he kisses you again, this time his lips more urgent than before. You respond in kind. The messy movement of lips against lips, the tethering clutches of shoulders and hair, connecting you and Bucky in ways you had only hoped for.

When his tongue slips out and catches your bottom lip, you actually moan, granting him enough room to slip into your mouth. The languid petting of tongues, of mouths, of hands, or hair, is enough to set you on fire.

He pulls away first. “Doll, if I don’t stop I won’t.” You look into his eyes and see the silent plea there. Not yet.

“Let’s get ready for bed.”

~

A couple weeks pass. The kissing getting more and more intense. The public display’s getting braver. No one says anything, except Sam and Steve. Both of whom are the ever-vocal cheerleaders and mockingbirds.

With your hands in his hair, straddling his lap, and his hands on your hips, holding you close, you don’t hear the two men come in. The press against him numbs your mind. The feeling of his fingers running along your sides, almost tickling you if it wasn’t so arousing. His tongue against your own in tandem with your own fingers in his hair is enough to make you moan obscenely.

“Get a room will you.” Sam huffs, silently happy for his friend and the man he is accepting as one.

You pull away from Bucky, both of your eyes wide as you take in the position and the audience. “You were supposed to be gone all night!” You say, almost yelling at the laughing duo while Bucky still rubs circles into your sides.

“Change of plans.” Steve looks at both of you. “Although, it seems as if you two might want to change yours too.”

Resting your head against Bucky’s, you look into his eyes and start to laugh. Neither of you can hold it in; the laughter for the situation, the laughter for the sheer acceptance of your best-friends, and the laughter for the utter love between the two of you.

You’re still laughing as he picks you up and carries you to his room. A room that is more a joint space than his now.

You’ve barely stopped when he kisses you goodnight and the two you fall into a peaceful oblivion.

~

“You’ve never built a blanket fort!” You yell at him in disbelief.

“I grew up in the Depression [Y/N], Steve and I were a little busy trying not freeze to death.”

“Right.” You look at him, mischief in your eyes. “Want to learn?”

He looks at the floor, almost like a kicked puppy. “Yes.” You break out into a smile.

“Alright, grab some dining chairs while I get the blankets!”

A half-hour later, and one marvelous blanket fort later, you and Bucky are happily watching some old movie he insisted you watch. “Why did you want to see this again?”

“I used to love it as a kid.” He explains, a scowl on his face. “Now though. I don’t see the appeal. This is awful!”

“Yeah Bucky, it’s pretty bad.”

“I have an idea of what could make it better.” His eyes move to yours, a different brand of mischief dancing within them.  

“Do you now?” You mock as he leans closer, breath fanning your face. Mint. I love mint.

“Yeah.” He’s holding you, arms wrapped around you, hands splayed on your back and he kisses you with a new urgency. The hot wet kisses of a few nights ago are nothing compared to the absolute wreaking ones of today. The warmth and solitude provide within the blankets cause a shiver to run up and down your spine, and he deepens it when you moan a little.

The heated and charged air causes all reason to go out of your mind. The only thing you know is Bucky. The sound of the television long forgotten as he lays you back and starts to trail kisses down your neck. Mouth feverishly moving in tandem with your breathing, he slips his hand, his flesh hand, under your shirt and lets it rest on the skin just below your breasts.

“Bucky.” You gasp as he kisses and licks your collar bone.

“Yeah?” His mumbles, mouth never leaving you.

“Don’t stop.”

“Never.” Before you can say anything else, he kisses you again, tongue harshly slipping into your mouth. You let out a sheer pornographic moan.

Hands in his hair, you feel him pull downward, slipping your shirt up and over your head. The cups of your bra doing nothing to hide the hardening peaks. As his hands cautiously palm your breasts you can’t help but arch into his touch. You don’t know what sound you make, but it spurs him on. Trailing another round of kissing back down your stomach, he reaches the waistband of your pants.

“May I?”

“Yes.” You know your voice sounds breathy and needy, but at this point you don’t care.

He pulls down your sweats gently, far too gently if you had anything to say about it, but you don’t. You can’t as he trails his cold metal fingers up your thigh and stops just short of where you know you want him and where he wants to be.

“Bucky.” You lift your head and look at his smirk from his position between your legs. “Do something.”

“Of course.” He mocks before leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses where his fingers just were.

He purposefully doesn’t touch your clothed core, instead slipping back up and gently removing your bra before latching on. A gentle suck and an even gentler lick along with the light touch of his fingers sends you into a haze. The months of waiting was all foreplay you guess. No one could possibly be this responsive. Yet you are. You are as his licks, sucks, and pulls harder. The noises coming from your mouth, your throat, pornographic.

His flesh hand, slipping down from your head, his metal one still working your breast, reaches your panties. A deft finger slipping inside the waistband and tugging as he trails another set of kisses downward. Lips barely brushing over the hood hiding your aching clit sends you keening. His finger slowly sliding up and down the slit of you, wet and ready even if he refuses to believe it. Slow and small kitten licks at your sensitive nub is all it takes before you are grasping his hair and tugging, causing him to moan into you.

“Oh god.” Another breathy moan and another lick. “Bucky.” A harsher suck and you are done for. He feels your release on his chin, his stubble scraping the inside your thigh in a delicious burn.

“I need you.” You manage to gasp out as he slips a finger inside your clenching walls. A few more languid thrusts of his fingers and he is climbing atop you. Pants and shirt long forgotten on the floor next to yours.

“Are you sure?” He asks in between chaste kisses that have no place where you are.

“Never been surer of anything in my life.” He nods.

Slowly, almost painfully slow, he slips himself inside your velvet walls. A low throaty moan comes out of his gaping mouth. A mouth you pull down to your own as he bottoms out. Hips against hips; chest against chest; and mouth against mouth, he starts to move. The rhythmic push and pull of his hips with the sheer fullness and friction against that one spot that has you moaning louder than you thought possible is all you know.

Shallow thrusts give way to long and harder ones after a while, both of you in a sex filled haze. Words of promises neither one of you know, oh gods and names are thrown about as he shifts you to sit on his lap. You, hands on his shoulders, his hands on your hips, thrusts caused by one of you and both at the same time send you into a moaning mess. His lips on your neck, and you know there will be a mark there later, but now you don’t care.

You don’t care about anything at this moment but the two of you, so blissfully unaware of anything but the push and pull, the shallow and deep, and moans caused by one another. Minutes or hours, you don’t know, pass and you can feel yourself edge closer and closer to the familiar feeling of letting go. You can feel Bucky getting closer too. Leaning down and grabbing his face you kiss him like your life depends on it as you move faster. The delicious angle causing him to brush that spot just right.

Lips still attached to his you moan as you cum. The high sending him into oblivion not long after you. Both of you still riding out your climax as you rest. Sweat and slick sticking to your skin, you look him in the eye and your heart almost bursts.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[sdottkrames]

@comfortember Prompt 15: campfire

Summary: Tony takes Peter camping to watch a meteor shower

Notes: I adore space. Stars and constellations are so fascinating to me!!

Fun fact: The Leonids is actually happening in two days, and I thought that was really cool, so I incorporated that into this fic.

Also: the song is Jupiter by Sleeping at Last. I've recently become OBSESSED and their album Atlas 1 (especially the space songs) have become my Irondad muse. So enjoy!

Read on AO3: Here

While collecting the stars, I connected the dots

I don't know who I am, but now I know who I'm not

I'm just a curious speck that got caught up in orbit

***

Make my messes matter

Make this chaos count

_________________________________

 Tony’s concentration on the book he was reading was interrupted by a scream from his wife. Even though he was retired, he always kept the nanosuit close by (old habits die hard), and he had his gauntlet up in an instant, ready to fight. Then he looked to the window and saw what had made her scream.

 He rolled his eyes. “Let him in, Friday.”

 “Sorry, Pepper,” Peter said as he climbed through the window, but his laughter made it hard to believe his apology.

 “Don’t do that, Peter! I might not have the heart condition Tony’s always griping about,” she shot a grin to Tony, who pretended to be offended, “but I would rather stay away from one.”

 “Duly noted.” Peter shed his coat and sauntered over to the couch, cuddling up to Tony with no embarrassment. There had been a time that the easy affection between the two seemed impossible, and Tony was forever grateful those times were long past them. He put his arm around the boy, pulling him closer and picking up his book again. 

 “What’re you reading?” Peter murmured.

 Tony showed him the cover, a book on astronomy and the physics of stars, and was surprised to see Peter’s face light up. 

 “I love astronomy!” he said.

 “Really? I used to, but I started to hate it. For obvious reasons. I was hoping that reading about it more might make me hate it less.”

 Peter hummed. “I probably should hate space, too, but it was always my thing with Ben. I guess I just refused to let it go.”

 Tony could understand that. He’d never had any particular connection to space, just an idle interest in it as a kid. He’d started looking down whenever he was out at night, unable to look at the black expanse above him without seeing destruction and death. His experiences in the wormhole were soon joined by red dust and grey ash that seared his skin with grief and guilt. He had even started hating the moon. 

 But Peter was back, and Tony was trying to work through his hatred of and anxiety from space. Hence the book.

 “You know, there’s a meteor shower tomorrow night. The Leonids. I’ve never seen one.” Peter sighed wistfully.

 They continued their night as usual, but the gears in Tony’s head had started turning. He had an idea.

 “What are you planning?” Pepper asked him skeptically that night as she got into her pajamas. “You have that look in your eye you get when you have an idea.”

 “I was thi-in abou ta-in Peer sta-azing.” Tony was brushing his teeth, so it came out garbled and unintelligible, but Pepper spoke fluent Tony nonsense, so she understood.

 “I think that’s a great idea. There’s that campsite close by that we took Morgan to that one summer. The stars were pretty spectacular there.”

 Tony smiled at the memory around his toothbrush, and retreated to the bathroom to spit so he could talk normally.

 “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Just for tomorrow night. You can handle things here, right?” He teased.

 Pepper rolled her eyes. “As if I don’t handle things all day every day.”

 Tony kissed the corner of her smile. “You’re not wrong.”

 ***

 Peter sleepily shuffled into the kitchen the next morning, grunting a greeting unceremoniously at Tony, who chuckled and put a plate with a pile of pancakes and some bacon in front of him. Peter perked up instantly at the prospect of food, and dug in with gusto.

 “I will never understand how you can eat that much.”

 Peter grinned around a mouthful of pancake, his cheeks sticking out like a chipmunk’s and forcing Tony to use every ounce of self control to keep from pinching them. He was sure Peter wouldn’t appreciate that. 

 “What can I say? I’m a growing boy!” Peter took a moment to swallow. “Thanks for the breakfast, by the way.”

 Tony's amazing self control apparently didn't extend to ruffling Peter’s hair. “Anytime, kiddo,” he said. rubbing the kid's curly locks. “So, I was thinking, Pete. You want to go see the meteor shower tonight?”

 Peter paused in his chewing, eyes wide with excitement and disbelief. “What?!”

 “Well, I just figured since you said you’d never seen a meteor shower, and I happen to know of a really good camping spot, that you might want to go.”

 Peter nodded, jumping up and crushing Tony into a hug, squeaking a thank you. The older hero squeezed him gently. “You’re welcome, bud.”  

 After finishing his food and putting his plate in the sink, Peter excitedly ran to his room to pack a bag for camping. It was a quick drive to the site, so they lounged around, watching a movie with Morgan and enjoying lunch as a family before they decided to leave.

 Once everything was packed in the car, they were off. They stopped quickly at a grocery store because Peter insisted on hot dogs. Tony was more inclined to order takeout and eat it by the fire, but Peter had insisted on roasting hot dogs over the flames, and of course s'mores because “what camping trip is complete without s’mores, Tony?” Tony was quickly learning he had no self control when it came to Peter, so he ended up agreeing.

 It was a quick drive, and Tony reveled in the easy conversation and camaraderie between him and his kid. He never got tired of just talking and spending time with Peter, and it definitely helped distract from the slight worry in his chest about spending a night staring at space.

 They pulled into the campsite and Peter stretched as he got out. Tony let him pull out the tent. Being Tony Stark’s, it was no ordinary tent. It was huge, for one; Tony was pretty sure at least six of the Avengers had stayed in it one mission. It also had the comfiest blow up mattresses, and a built in speaker system that connected to Friday.

 Peter took one look as they laid it out, rolled his eyes, and mumbled something about glamping.

 “Yeah, I know, Underoos, this isn’t the typical camping tent. But I saved the world, lost an arm, all that jazz. I think I deserve a little comfort.”

 Peter let out a laugh. “Mmmmhmmmm. Sure. Are you sure it’s not just cause you’re old?”

 Tony gasped in mock offense. “Insubordination. I’m eating all your marshmallows.”

 Peter didn’t look concerned as he hammered the stakes into place. “Uh huh, okay,” he grinned.

 They made quick work of the tent, and even quicker work making the fire. Peter made it a competition gathering firewood, and Tony called him a cheater for climbing up a tree to get some bigger limbs. 

 “Show off,” he muttered as Peter flipped from the top of a tree, landing perfectly. “You’re like a cat, kid.”

 Peter grinned, and they got to work making the fire. It blazed, warm and bright, and they roasted hot dogs and marshmallows as the sun sank lower and lower in the sky. 

 “Oh, Tony, look!” 

 Tony glanced up just in time to see a star streak across the sky, and he couldn’t help but notice it’s beauty despite how his heart started thumping in his ears. 

 A hand slipped into his, stemming the panic. 

 “You’re here. You’re okay,” Peter whispered, and Tony took a shaky breath. “Did you know that shooting stars are little bits of debris from outer space? They enter the atmosphere and burn up. Sometimes they end up falling to the ground, but usually they just burn and disappear.”

 Tony nodded. He had read that somewhere as a kid. Peter pointed to a group of stars.

 “That’s the constellation Andromeda. See that blurry spot in the middle?” Tony nodded again. “That’s an entire galaxy. It’s amazing how we can see it so well this far away.”

 Peter continued to talk quietly, spouting off facts that Ben had taught him or that he’d learned from class. A strange sort of peace filled Tony as Peter's voice swirled with the crackling of the fire, replacing the panic in his heart.

 “Tell me about Ben,” he whispered eventually.

 Peter let out a little sigh. It wasn’t sad, more wistful than anything. “He was the best. You know this already, but he was the reason I became Spider-Man. He was kind, he cared about everybody he met, and he always made time for me. He was my hero.” Peter paused, and his voice went quiet. “He would have liked you.”

 Tony sniffed back unexpected tears. When Peter first came into his life, he hadn’t known what he meant to Peter for a long time, but he’d known he wasn’t the kid’s dad and uncle, and he had been so worried Peter felt like he was trying to replace them or something. 

 “I’d’ve been honored, and know I would have liked him too,” he finally answered.

 “You know, you remind me a lot of him. There was always a huge hole when he died, and you obviously didn’t fill the hole completely. Only he could. But you filled a different hole. You made it easier." Peter squeezed Tony's hand. "You still do. I’m glad I have you.”

 All the fear, the sorrow, the worry, every mess he made and every bit of chaos that came with raising a child was worth it in that moment. He squeezed Peter’s hand, telling his kid thank you without saying it.

 The fire crackled, the warmth washing over them and creating such a sense of peace that, combined with Peter’s hand in his, made it impossible for Tony to feel scared anymore.

 And above them, the stars rained down.

[the-mad-starker]

Valentines Day Fic: Slow Hands

Written by @the-mad-starker​ and @still-lovelygarnet​ for @castronomicaaal​ in @starker-valentines​! We hope you enjoy the fic and know that we're so grateful for your help and patience.

Mads: We teamed up thinking we can get this prompt out fast! Instead, we pulled a purely Mads and Garnet move and ended up doubling the word count. Woops! But it's worth it. We had a lot of fun writing this.

Garnet: As always, writing with Mads is too much fun to stop. This is a Valentine's gift for the amazing Castro, but it also was for me too, since writing it made me beyond happy. Happy Valentine's day ❤️

Notes: established relationship, first time, fluff, safe sex, Valentine's Date

WC: 11.290

(AO3 Link)

Summary:

Tony loved kissing Peter and the thought of doing more sent an almost terrifying thrill rushing through him. He would do everything in his power to make Peter feel as loved as Tony felt.

"It's a date then, sweetheart," Tony confirmed, "Dinner with the most handsome man in the world and then after… Whatever you want, baby. I'll make it happen just to see a smile on your face."

💗💗💗

Tony had an entire theater system on one of the floors in the tower. And yet, here he was in the privacy of his own penthouse, watching Wall-E on his big-screen TV.

The reason for this was the young man curled up in his arms. They had just finished a long day in the lab, several hours of shop talk, upgrades being planned then put into motion.

Put into words, six hours sounded way too long for a lab session but for Tony, the time had really flown.

He had never met anyone quite like Peter and yes, people could argue that they were very much alike. Both geniuses in their own right and both striving for the good of the world.

Well, Tony strived. He was pretty sure that Peter was just good incarnate but that was an argument for another day.

The point was, Peter was his reason for doing a lot of things. And if his boyfriend wanted to watch Wall-E just because Tony hadn't seen it before, then they'd watch Wall-E even if his arm was going slightly numb from Peter laying on it. 

It was still a bit chilly during February so a nice, thick blanket kept the warmth trapped between them. Tony shifted a bit to get some of the blood circulating but then resettled his arm so it curled around Peter's waist. Problem solved.

"This is actually pretty… cute," Tony remarked. "You know, we can probably build our own version of Wall-E. Dumm-E and U would be ecstatic about having a little brother. And FRIDAY and Karen could be big sisters."

The young man next to him remained unresponsive for a short while. Big brown eyes were glued on the huge screen, yet looks were quite deceiving since his thoughts were focused elsewhere. 

"Hm?" Peter's eyebrows climbed up a little as he finally came back to the present. 

A smile spread across his soft lips upon realizing Tony's entertaining proposition. Even more than that, Peter was delighted that his boyfriend was enjoying the movie he had picked. 

It was easy for him to draw out the parallels between Wall-E and himself and, of course, EVE and Tony. 

The man was the definition of amazing, he was brighter than the sky's brightest star. A hero to all. To Peter. And way, way more than that. 

"Glad you like it," His smile curved wider, perfectly white teeth flashing with his grin. "Getting all kinds of ideas, are you?" Peter's eagerness for Tony's creative projects was painfully obvious, always had been. 

This time he was distracted, however.

Valentine's was only a few days away and they hadn't spoken a word about it. Maybe Tony didn't like that stuff. Maybe he was busy. But Peter, being the hopeless romantic that he was, was sweating bullets over it. 

They had been on dates before, sure they had. But this date… this date would be different.

Nervously, he cleared his throat before attempting to go on. 

"Uhm… What about EVE, though? Can we make her, too? I think Wall-E would be… lonely without her." 

Instead of a facepalm, he let his eyes slip shut for a moment too long. Was he really trying to talk his way to a Valentine's date with Tony like this?

Real smooth, Peter. Real smooth.

"We could–" Again, he had to clear his throat since it was getting so dry from the nervousness. "We could… brainstorm about it. On… Friday?" 

His eyes darted back to Tony. 

His effort at being nonchalant and discreet only made the layers behind Peter's words exceedingly apparent.

Friday…

Tony hummed at the thought, mind already whirling with possible schematics and cozy little workshop dates. It wasn't unusual at all for the pair to have multiple lab days. Maybe they wouldn't go so hard at it on Friday since today was rather long.

He could take them out to eat, somewhere a bit private so people wouldn't sneak pictures of them. It was the least he could do considering what he had planned for Valentine's Day–

Wait. Valentine's Day. When was that again?

It was on… Friday.

The older man had at least ten different reminders for the things he needed to do. Double, triple check his reservation. Make sure his gifts were still ready to go. So many things but then…

Tony brushed aside a stray curl as he considered.

Was Peter hinting at just staying in for Valentine's Day? It wasn't Tony's original plan but he could roll with it.

"We can if that's what you wanna do on Valentine's Day," Tony mused. "Don't wanna do anything special? Maybe a candlelit dinner, a breathtaking view of the city… We can talk about making Wall-E and EVE there, too."

Peter's eyes grew from wide to wider as he listened to Tony speak, ears perked up, fully engaged antennas. With his breath caught somewhere in his throat, Peter was certain that if he tried to answer only an excited squeal would come out.

The older man shifted a bit so that he could look Peter in the eye. He was surprised to find the normally giddy man looking anxious. Another thought crossed his mind.

"Wait– Did I not ask you about going to dinner with me on Valentine's Day?" It was with a startling sense of mortification that Tony realized he did exactly that.

They had been together for almost a year, just shy a couple months actually. And Tony… Tony, the futurist, Tony the person who tended to go overboard and plan things way ahead, had made reservations for Valentine's Day six months in advance.

The only problem was, he had forgotten to clue Peter in on it.

Heat had crept up on Peter's cheeks when he finally managed to shake his head at the man. His eyes were still big and his lips agape. And then, slowly, the corners of his mouth turned up to form a perfect smile; a smile full of delight, of fuzzy feelings that had his heart skipping a beat and his belly fill with butterflies. 

"I want that!" He erupted, glowing with excitement, "A-a… a candlelit dinner!" 

Taken by surprise, Peter pushed himself against Tony until the man laid flat on the couch and he, on top of him.

"I can't believe you forgot to tell me!" His chest vibrated with joyful laughter even though the tone of his voice resembled a whine. 

Tony was surprised by the strength of his reaction. The boy had gone from shy and a bit cautious to being a ball of energy.

It was no wonder though if Tony had made such a blunder.

He smiled sheepishly at his boyfriend, pushing himself up so that Peter straddled his hips.

"Sorry, kiddo," Tony said. He cupped Peter's cheeks and leaned in to gently kiss his forehead. When he pulled back, he joked, "Can't even blame my old age for this one, I've always been like this. Skipping to part 8 without checking in on part 1, 2, 3."

He wanted to do better though, needed to do better because his actions had caused Peter some anxiety.

Peter looked back at the man of his dreams. His sparkling eyes roamed freely along the beautiful, breathtaking features that he adored. 

His heart struck gaze paused here and there, on the deep wrinkles that formed close to Tony's eyes, on the grey hairs of his beard and mustache… On his soft, desirable lips. 

"I, uhm…" Peter was clearly lost, captivated by the man before him. His eyelids fell a bit as the color of his cheeks deepened. "I was thinking… maybe afterward, we could come back here." 

This time, Peter's voice was quiet. Too quiet. Full of significance that was too much for the young man to phrase. 

With that, Peter's gaze fled to look at his fingers that fidgeted with the small buttons of Tony's shirt, close to his collar. 

"I was thinking… maybe we could spend the night together." He meant more than he was saying, trusting in the flickering hope that Tony understood that. 

With his bottom lip caught under his teeth, Peter peeked at the man again to catch his reaction.

There was no denying just exactly what Peter meant by those words. And with the younger man pressed against him, it was a temptation unlike any other.

Tony had to close his eyes and take in a deep breath. His initial reaction was to shout for joy, to tumble Peter onto his back and kiss him. Give kiss after kiss after kiss until they were both breathless from it.

When he opened his eyes, the desire was there but he kept himself under control.

This was a serious matter and even though such talk usually made his skin crawl, the last thing Tony wanted was to fuck up what they had. He didn't want Peter to have any regrets.

"I would want to," Tony said, first and foremost. There was no way he'd let Peter think he didn't want him in any shape or form. "But we don't have to, baby. Just because it's Valentine's Day… We don't have to do that. I'd be happy if you just wanted to do this… You can sleep in my arms, just let me hold you at night and that'll be more than enough for me."

This… Just being together. Laughing. Talking. building amazing things together. Watching silly and heartfelt movies about robots.

Peter nodded; a gentle gesture, despite the fact that his heart was pounding so loudly that he wondered if Tony could hear it. 

They had been together for almost a year, Peter was well past the age of consent and yet… they hadn't been intimate past a certain point. It was not because Peter didn't want to, but perhaps, there had never been the right place for it, the right time. 

Or perhaps, he was too nervous. Intimacy was a complicated thing, even a kiss was enough to overwhelm Peter. 

But Tony had been so patient. Never pushing for more, he always took care of him. 

"I know," Peter replied softly, as he cuddled closer. He rested his chin on Tony's shoulder and his fingers caressed the nape of the man's neck, rubbing a little rougher into the skin. 

"But I… I want this," he whispered and his lips touched just under Tony's ear. "I'm ready."

Was he? A deep, aching desire surely told him as much, but his heart pounded frantically at the very thought. It was almost frustrating that Tony could be so patient and composed when his own body was going haywire. 

But at the same time, this calmness, this control, was what drew Peter in. What ultimately lulled the craziness and made him feel safe.

Tony's arms tightened around Peter's waist and his hand came up to stroke through his thick curls of hair.

"Leave it up to me," Tony told him sincerely. "I'll take care of you, baby. We can go as slow or as fast as you need."

He gently nuzzled against the other's face, then turned so their lips could brush together softly. It was far from their first kiss but it was still just as sweet, just as exciting. Just as addicting.

Tony loved kissing Peter and the thought of doing more sent an almost terrifying thrill rushing through him. He would do everything in his power to make Peter feel as loved as Tony felt.

"It's a date then, sweetheart," Tony confirmed, "Dinner with the most handsome man in the world and then after… Whatever you want, baby. I'll make it happen just to see a smile on your face."

As if to make Tony's wish come true, a smile spread across Peter's lips. Those tender words, those touches they shared were so deeply treasured. Powerful enough to soothe away all worries. 

"You are not the most handsome man in the world," he liked to counter Tony's jests about vanity. 

Looking deep into his eyes, with his own, overly honest, he answered with a smirk.

"You're the most handsome in the universe, in all the universes."

Peter left another chaste kiss on Tony's lips, soft and sweet, making it known that he meant every word.

At that, Tony let out a truly genuine laugh.

Then he did exactly as his desires urged him to. He tumbled Peter onto his back, almost losing balance himself. With his boyfriend vulnerable and laid out beneath him, Tony leaned close and– booped him on the nose.

"I was talking about you, underoos," Tony chuckled. "But if you're happy to share the title, I'd be more than happy to take it up."

A bit startled, Peter looked up at him with dewy-eyed innocence. It didn't take long for him to catch up, though, and soon he was smiling widely, blushing warmly at the man above.

There it was again, his hammering heartbeat. Tony's weight on top of him sent every inch of his body in overdrive. His lower half had no quarrels, no ounce of hesitation or regard over his embarrassment. In a second, his pants were becoming tight and uncomfortable. 

"Yeah…" Peter answered hazily, brown eyes focused on Tony's lips in a silent plea.

Another soft, gentle kiss followed, then Tony smiled and sat up.

"I'll get us some more snacks. Rewind the movie a bit? Gotta finish it if we wanna be serious about building our own."

He'd brave the cold for more snacks and maybe the chill would help cool off some of his growing desires. With that, Tony got up but he made sure to keep the blanket tucked around the younger man.

Peter was thankful for it, as he sat up too, following Tony around with his adoring gaze. Thankful because the tent in his jeans was still successfully hidden.

He squeezed a pillow into his arms to release some of the tension. Raging hormones were very often the reason these hugs had to be cut short. But Tony never embarrassed him for it. 

"Don't be long," the young man waved a hand while still trying to calm down. "Or I might come looking." 

He gestured with his chin, and once Tony left, allowed his lungs to empty the heavy, love struck sigh that he had been keeping in since the start of the movie. 

Tony's laughter could be heard from the kitchen but he returned quickly enough with a refilled bowl of popcorn. He kissed Peter's temple and passed him the bowl.

He rejoined him under the blanket and casually laid his arm behind the other's shoulder.

"You keep making threats like that and you'll see where it gets you," Tony grinned, then he turned back to the movie. "Okay, Friday, baby, hit that play button."

He had so many plans in motion leading up to Valentine's Day. He could only hope those plans weren't overkill, but as far as he was concerned, Valentine's Day was the perfect excuse to shower Peter with love.

---

Tony had always been a generous person and towards those he kept close to his heart, that meant he'd shower them with gifts.

Holidays like birthdays, Valentine's Day, and Christmas were all excuses to do so. Truthfully though, he didn't need a holiday to show his appreciation. If he saw something that made him think of them, he'd buy it. If he thought up of something he could build, he'd build it.

It was that simple.

Peter was different though. No matter how many thoughts were crowding in his head, how many plans or schematics pulling themselves together in his mind, Peter Parker was there in the center of it all.

Tony had a plan for Valentine's Day and the last few  days leading to it were very much included in them.

He sent roses. Not just the traditional red, but pinks and whites, yellows… Basically, a whole rainbow of roses. Each one had a note, handwritten personally by Tony and reminding Peter just what he adored about him. His smile, his laughter, his sharp, brilliant mind. Even just the way he pouted or grumbled when things didn't go exactly as planned.

Tony loved it all.

He sent chocolates and treats. Made sure Peter and May had nice breakfasts waiting for them in the morning. And during lunch, when Peter was studying or getting out of class, Tony would drop by and spend time with him.

One of those evenings, Tony took Peter to get a nice suit. It wasn't the first time Tony did it since there were plenty of events the Avengers had to attend, but this was more personal.

This was just for them.

Tony guided Peter through the process and together, they picked out a nice form fitting suit for their date. The look in his eyes was more than enough to convince anyone that Tony Stark was well and truly gone over this man.

And after, he took Peter out on the town. Nothing too fancy and nothing too exhausting. Their big day was on Friday so these were just small little things that Tony did to ease the building anticipation they both felt.

Thursday night, he dropped Peter off at the apartment. The suit had been tailored and ready for use. Tony may have helped to choose it, but he hadn't seen Peter wear it yet.

Tomorrow.

"Get some rest, sweetheart," Tony said. "I'll pick you up tomorrow, okay?"

Peter was glowing, a glow that many chased after in their life but only few were lucky enough to achieve. It spoke of things too dear for words, of having everything when his young heart was only in need of Tony.

That's what Tony was, his everything.

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow, boss." Peter grinned at his own little tease, and reached for the handle but stopped. 

His eyes darted back, gravitated towards Tony. Playful and full of admiration, they said those three words that the two had shared plenty of times. Yet it was not enough, it would never be.

He watched the man go down the few stairs and before it was too late, Peter ran after him. 

"Hey, you forgot something!" He called out to attract Tony's attention. As the older man turned, he was met with a sweet kiss on the lips. 

"I love you," Peter whispered gently into it and just as quickly stormed back up the stairs, grinning to himself so widely that his cheeks were hurting.

That same night Peter was too excited to sleep. His palm rested on his chest that raced while he stared up at the dark ceiling. It was still decorated with little stars from when he was younger. When going to space was still a dream and nothing more. 

He laid there for hours but it felt as if it was minutes. Tony held all his thoughts captive, their date and… what would follow. 

Despite getting little sleep, Peter's youth gave him enough freshness the next day. He couldn't keep still through the morning and afternoon, and when it was still far too early he started getting dressed.

The suit was a marvel. A beautiful cream color that they had picked out together, its fabric one of the most expensive and finest in New York. 

And yet, in some mind blowing way, while wearing it Peter managed to make it look like clothes hanging on a hanger.

"Oh no…" he palmed his cheeks while checking himself out in the mirror. "No, no, no…" The reflection stared back at him, full of rising doubts.

A clown, that's what he looked like. The resemblance was uncanny and Peter would rather hide in his room than let Tony see him this way. 

Just then, when he was about to shed the jacket of the suit, his aunt came through the door. 

"Oh my!" She gasped with a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

"Nonono, don't say a word," Peter rushed to object, but his aunt had other plans.

She circled around and adjusted the suit on his shoulders. It fit like a glove - she could see it even if Peter's eyes refused to do so. 

"You look stunning, dear. We just need to push your hair back… look at that," Without waiting for his permission her fingers work his curls back to give him a more sophisticated look. 

A scoff pushed up Peter's lungs, but he gave in a little. "I just… I need everything to be perfect." he sighed, "Tony deserves perfect."

"Then he's lucky to have you, don't you think?" May smiled warmly and rubbed Peter's tense shoulders. "Are you sure there isn't something else that is bothering you, dear?"

They both knew she could read him like an open book, yet Peter shook his head. "Thanks," he answered quietly, a way for him to ask for his privacy back. 

Once alone, Peter rubbed his sweaty fingers together, he was so excited that his blood raced, pumped full of adrenaline. The time was getting nearer and anticipation grew greater and greater inside his heart.

But, what if nothing worked out as planned? What if aliens came down and ruined their dinner! What if… what if he was a disaster in bed? Was it really a good idea? Was it really the right time?

The doubts were like a storm of crows and not before long, Peter was taking the jacket off again. Convinced of how absurd it looked, he left it on the bed. 

His eyes caught glimpse of the photo he had printed, Tony and him, in their superhero suits, posing for a selfie. It was strategically attached on the headboard of his bed, near his pillow.

Warmth flooded his chest and without even knowing it, a smile shone on his face. 

There was a knock on the door, the sound pushed him right out of his daydream.

"–Said I'm good, thanks!" Peter shouted to be heard, presumably talking to his aunt but he wasn't. 

The door opened and Tony took a step forward before stopping dead in his tracks.

His lovely Peter was unaware of his arrival so he was able to drink his fill without feeling too embarrassed over his gawking.

In the shop, the color and material of the suit had caught both their eyes. Tony knew right away that it would be perfect for the younger man but Peter hadn't been so sure, despite looking at it with such longing.

Looking at him now, Tony was in a daze, stunned by how absolutely gorgeous his boyfriend looked. He managed to pull himself together and save his reputation.

In an attempt to look casual, he leaned against the door, a lazy but appreciative smile on his face.

"You look stunning, Pete," Tony complimented him. "My only regret now… is that everyone at the restaurant will get to see just how handsome you look. But I can't complain, can I? Nope, not, at all. This is me not complaining because… because I'm just so damn lucky you chose to be with me."

At the sound of this beloved, familiar voice, Peter turned back around with a surprised expression. A word was about to come out his lips but it got choked back into his throat. 

Tony was breathtaking. Literally. 

"H-hey, hey, hi. When… w-when did you get here?" Peter stumbled through the sentence. 

The clumsiness was a unique quality of his, but Tony only found it endearing and entirely adorable. The older man gave a teasing smile, cocking his head and pairing it with a casual shrug.

"Just now," he admitted, "just in time to get the best view in the house."

Tony's compliments sank in after the young man blinked hastily for a short while to take in the heart stopping, smoldering hot looks of his date.

A blush heated his cheeks and Peter pushed a stray lock behind his ear. 

"Thanks," he managed a polite response now that finally his brain was mostly back in working order.

Peter strolled forward to get closer. 

"You don't look too bad yourself," he teased in return and quickly glanced behind Tony's back to make sure May was nowhere to be seen.

Satisfied, he took yet another step and pushed himself up to plant a kiss on Tony's lips. 

Kissing Peter was as natural as breathing and Tony found it hard to pull away. His arm slipped around the younger man's waist, more than happy to have this sweet kiss linger.

Almost reluctantly, he pulled away.

"Just need one thing, then I can spend the whole night romancing and wooing you." 

Tony gave him a cheeky wink before he went to retrieve the jacket. He held it up towards the younger man to help him put it on.

Peter's eyes moved from Tony to the jacket and back again. In some extraordinary way, the man put all his worries to rest. All insecure thoughts were silenced, leaving behind rosy cheeks and a beautiful smile. 

He extended his arms and twisted his body accordingly so that the sleeves could slip back on. Firm and experienced hands straightened his jacket down the middle, leaving the few buttons open to show off the delicate, flowery pattern that adorned the inner lining. 

"Consider me ready to be wooed," Peter said with eagerness aplenty while looking up, deep within the other's eyes. 

Out of both need and habit, he caught Tony's hand to intertwine their fingers together. Hopefully, he wouldn't notice how sweaty his palms were. 

The older man gave him a warm smile and before they set off on their date, Tony brought their clasped hands up. He pressed a tender kiss over the younger man's knuckles. The look in his brown eyes was just as earnest, full of sincerity and wonder.

"Plan has been set in motion," Tony said teasingly. "Be prepared, I'll knock your socks off."

Tony kept the mood light while always making sure there was a smile on Peter's face.

The dinner was… perfect. Not perfect in the sense that everything went according to plan, but perfect in that whatever problems they bumped into, they both overcame it.

Tony had insisted on driving them into the city. He had wanted the date to have a personal touch and he knew his boyfriend was still a bit self-conscious about being driven around. A limo wasn't exactly the most low key ride ever, and he liked the idea of personally driving them.

Their reservation for the dinner had been entered incorrectly. It was set an hour after they arrived and the staff had been nervous about upsetting the great Tony Stark.

It was Valentine's Day though, and while the restaurant was packed with dining customers, Tony didn't want to ruin the mood.

They spent the hour away at the bar, their two heads leaning together, murmuring casual conversation like secrets. Peter's brown eyes were mesmerizing in the dim light, seeming to glow with pleasure.

The hour went by quickly, lost in soft chatter and casual touches. They had appetizers to soften their appetite. A drink or two accompanied the food, the amount of alcohol way below their limit but just enough that the world softened around them.

By the time their table was ready, Tony almost suggested they go back to his penthouse right then and there. But seeing the beautiful smile on Peter's face, Tony made himself wait.

He had promised his boyfriend a candlelit dinner and even though he was sure Peter was well and properly wooed, he wouldn't stop there.

The candlelit dinner was a success and it was the best memory both would ever have. The picture taken then would be one of the favorites that Tony would ever come to possess.  

The city was lit up in all its colorful glory in the background. Peter was rosy cheeked from Tony's sweet whispers, a shy but pleased smile on his face. And Tony had such a goofy but genuine smile that stretched from ear to ear. His face was slightly tilted, parted lips brushing against Peter's curls.

It was them, Peter and Tony, immortalized forever in digital data as the loving and silly couple they were.

Tony loved it.

And when they arrived back at the penthouse, Tony's scarf was curled around Peter's neck. It was damn freezing for February and just that small gesture showed how he truly cared for his boyfriend.

He slipped an arm around Peter's trim waist, tucking him close to his side as they rode the elevator up.

"Thank you for this," Tony couldn't help but express, "For… For being with me. Here. For talking sense into me all those months ago."

He kissed the top of Peter's head.

"I don't know where I'd be without you, kiddo," Tony murmured.

Tilting up, Peter's eyebrows showed a bit of surprise. Yet the young man's eyes were soft with adoration over this man that made all of his dreams come true. 

Throughout the night he had been smiling so wide and so often that his cheeks were hurting. A small price to pay for happiness. Led by Tony's careful planning, by his calm and controlled demeanor, nothing could have possibly ruined their date. Not even aliens.

All that worrying had been a waste of time. Or, well, there was still something left to do. Something that Peter was looking forward to since the very start of their relationship. Before that, even.

He nodded, a wicked gleam playing in his big brown eyes. 

"You're welcome," Peter couldn't keep a straight face and scrunched up his nose while fighting back a grin. Finally, he shook his head, curls bouncing around with the movement. 

"No, I thank you, for everything you've done for me… and for tonight. It's… it's the best night of my life." The lingering traces of humor faded entirely from his face as he looked up at the older man with silent longing.

Peter held a tissue in his hands and for the duration of the elevator ride, he was twisting it around and around, essentially shredding it to pieces by the time they arrived at the penthouse.

With Tony's palm gently touching him over his lower back, the young man stepped forward. He had been here before countless times, yet there was nervousness in his step as if he was entering a place unfamiliar. 

This was finally it. His heart swelled and pounded, close to erupting. Waiting one more minute would be a minute too long, so Peter twisted around to grip Tony's hand with his own that was cold and sweaty at the same time. 

The lights of the city created a glowing mist outside the huge windows of the living room, behind Peter's dark form that pulled Tony in. 

"Tony…" he let out with a wanton little tone and caught his lips for an urgent kiss.

The kiss took Tony by surprise but he had wanted to kiss and touch Peter all night. The sudden urgency was what caught him off guard but he rolled with it.

It was the easiest thing for Tony to wrap his arms around the younger man. Even easier to kiss those soft lips he'd been glancing at throughout the night.

It would've been so easy to forget himself and just take and take… Let his desires run rampant and truly lose control.

But.

But this was Peter, the love of his life.

Tony took control of the kiss. His fingers slipped into those wild curls he loved so much and with a tilt of his head, slowed the kiss to a much slower but sensual pace. When he pulled back, they were both breathless with pounding hearts.

He stroked a thumb over Peter's lips and cupped his face as he looked into his eyes.

"No rush, sweetheart," Tony said softly. "C'mon, as much as I loved seeing you in this suit, let's get you outta these, hmm?"

Tony led him into the bedroom and as he did, he loosened his tie and let it hang casually around his neck. Once inside, he turned towards Peter and let his eyes really take him in.

His Peter was so handsome. So breathtaking. 

Tony couldn't help but get close again, backing him up until the door pressed against his back. He stole more kisses, hungry with increasing desire. Each one still maintained that slow, passionate pace, a buildup for what was to come.

Peter kissed back, still getting impatient from time to time, but Tony's touches didn't let things get out of hand. He was thankful that his partner took control, there was safety in it. 

With his back against the door, he gripped the man's loose tie to drag it down just slightly so that their lips would stay connected. Their combined hasty breaths melted into one another. 

Gradually, with the efforts of two sets of hands, Peter's jacket was coming off, slipping down his built yet slender arms to touch the floor. 

The lights were on but dim, and Peter could see the way Tony was looking back at him, with the same unapologetic desire. 

Next, his shaky hands tugged at Tony's jacket, a roll of the man's shoulders helped to shrug it off. Peter gasped softly into the kiss as the anticipation rose inside him to the point that it was making him dizzy. 

"I want you, Tony," he whispered even though they both knew it. 

The heat of his body had already skyrocketed, his pants had gotten tight. 

"You got me, sweetheart," Tony replied in between kisses. "All yours–" Another kiss, another hungry sound. "–as long as you want me…"

"I don't… I don't want to wait anymore," Peter's voice was nothing more than a whisper. If it was just a little bit louder, it would break.

Tony didn't want to wait either, but he didn't want to rush either. It was becoming harder by the minute to continue this slow pace, but he wanted this moment to last. He wanted to watch the pleasure fill those honey brown eyes and catalog all the different sounds his Peter made for him.

"Here–" Tony slipped a muscled thigh between Peter's legs and pressed it right against the hard outline he felt earlier.

At the same time, his hands slipped from Peter's waist down to that sinful ass he'd been teased with for the better part of the year. He gave it a nice squeeze, satisfaction bubbling from deep within when it pulled a shocked, but delighted gasp from the younger man.

He massaged it and soft groans reverberated against Peter's mouth as he used his grasp to pull their bodies tight.

His own cock was half hard in his pants, undeniable proof of just how badly Tony wanted him.

"Just like this," Tony murmured, voice dropping low with want. "Let me feel you, just like this…"

Peter always got like this, even when they were doing nothing but kissing. Having his senses dialed up to eleven all the time came with consequences, it messed with his libido. Tony messed with his libido, he was to blame just the same.

"Ah…" his fingers dug deep into the man's button-up shirt, fabric wrinkling under blunt fingernails.

Slow and sensually, their bodies moved together. Tony's thigh gave him enough friction for his eyes to squeeze shut in pleasure, for his own hips to spring into motion without concern or shame.

"That's it, baby," Tony groaned, warm breath ghosting along the sensitive skin. "Just like that… God, you're so gorgeous like this… Wanna make you feel good, Pete."

Tony's touches and hot whispers led him on. A curse was about to break free from Peter's lips but it got swallowed down. A little more and his feet were barely touching the ground. 

Silent whimpers met Tony's skin, as Peter bared down, pressing so hard against him while his tight body shuddered over and over again. 

"I'm sorry- I'm so sorry-" Peter gasped before it was even over, muscles trembling still with the intensity of his climax. 

Regret, he felt so much regret, he didn't mean to ruin it. Panting, he kept his forehead pressed against Tony's shoulder, the only available hiding place at the moment.

Tony knew what it meant the moment he felt Peter shudder and fall apart against him. Why did that turn him on so much?

He felt even more fever hot than before. It was the knowledge that he had given Peter pleasure that had done it.

To stop the litany of apologies, Tony kissed him again. Even if Peter came, his cock was still hard, still pressed against the other's thigh.

"You're beautiful when you come," Tony told him with a soft groan. "Don't be sorry, I love seeing you fall apart for me. This isn't the end, baby, unless you want it to be?"

The last bit was asked sincerely, no pout or even a hint of teasing.

A frantic shake of Peter's head was all that he got as a first response. The young man clung onto him, refusing to let go.

Tony nosed along Peter's jawline, just breathing in the scent of his skin.

"We can take a nice bath, soak in the hot tub and clean up," Tony suggested just in case Peter was done for the night. Then because he wanted to remind Peter that he was perfectly fine with whatever pace he wanted. "Maybe we can watch another movie and cuddle up on the couch?"

"No, no, please no," Peter used words now. The last thing he wanted was for this to end. 

He still felt so hot but that was not important. Tony… He was right there before him. After this amazing night, he had to have more of him.

The man that embodied all his hopes and dreams was right there, he only had to reach out and touch him.

"I want to keep going… Want to… feel you." Peter panted, flushed still while his hands slid down the man's shirt, over the muscles of his chest and stomach.

"Can I?" With his head tilted down, he turned his wanting gaze back up to find Tony's. 

Tony nuzzled against his jaw and then pressed a kiss to his panting mouth.

"You can do anything you want," Tony allowed, "but let's clean you up first."

He led the younger man to the bed. His hands slid to the front of Peter's body, pausing only for a moment until he got the green light to unbuckle his belt. He helped him step out of his clothes and kissed each available stretch of skin.

His shoulders, his collarbones, his hip bone. His knee. They all received a kiss.

Then when it was his turn, Tony stood and asked, "Do you want to, or should I…?"

An audible little gulp came from Peter's throat while he knelt on the bed, all naked, staring at Tony. The faint lighting cast soft shadows on both their bodies, illuminating them with an orange glow.

"I–" Peter's voice broke, too much excitement rushing through his veins. So much, in fact, that his spent member was once again taking an interest. 

"I want to do it," He was already shuffling closer to the edge of the bed to reach him. 

There was something so intimate about undressing another person. Tony felt a thrill at the thought that he'd get to experience this with Peter. 

He stepped closer and let his hands drop so that Peter could take over.

One last time, Peter looked up at him to get his permission, before all his attention turned to what was in front of him.

His curled fingers reached out, hesitant yet eager at the same time. The suit jacket was long gone, but the tie slid off of Tony's shoulders with a soft hiss. The button-up was removed next, each button slipped carefully from its place.

Tony had long since gotten over any form of body shyness. He knew he was desired by many, but under Peter's gaze, he felt a small fissure of doubt.

Peter was fit and in the prime of his life. So beautifully sculpted and hard panes of lean muscle. Tony's body had been through a lot and the number of scars was a testament to that. The years had also started to take a toll and while he still had defined muscles from all his hard work, they weren't as defined as that of his boyfriend's.

His shoulders tensed the tiniest bit when the shirt was pushed open, conscious of the little bit of fat that had formed around his middle. Stubborn thing, human bodies, but Tony kept his eyes on Peter's face and found only curiosity and wonder as he explored.

Tony's shoulders relaxed and his eyes slipped halfway shut in pleasure, happy to know he was giving Peter what he needed.

There was no force strong enough in this world that could stop Peter from exploring Tony's lower half.

Slowly, he rubbed over the bulge, he couldn't make out much like this and his imagination ran wild. He had felt Tony's erection before, seemed to be big, bigger than him.

The sound of the zipper was almost as loud as Peter's hammering heart in the quiet of the bedroom. Dark underwear was revealed underneath, the shape and size of Tony's cock was even more defined.

Peter touched him, focused and biting his lip so damn hard that it was turning crimson. Fondling him over the fabric, he didn't make a peep until he gripped the waistband of Tony's underwear.

"I… I'll just…" Peter mumbled, looking back up again for a split second. His cock was fully erect between his pressed close thighs, a pearl of precum glistening at the very top of his tip. 

"Go on, sweetheart," Tony encouraged.

He was using every bit of his will to stop himself  from chucking his pants right off. It felt as though their roles were reversed and Tony was the one eager for things to progress. A slow, deep breath helped calm those rioting emotions.

"It feels good when you touch me," he said reassuringly. He then leaned down and kissed him, something he felt he needed to do.

His pants slipped down his legs and pooled to the floor. His underwear was the last thing left and he was leaving it to Peter to remove.

Carefully, the young man pulled it all the way down, letting Tony's cock spring free. Peter must have stopped breathing as he took in the shape of him, it was so gorgeous. Full of defined veins that trailed down the shaft to the finely trimmed dark hairs that climbed up Tony's belly. 

Gaping, Peter blinked slowly, so slowly and so half-heartedly that his big brown eyes were never really fully concealed behind his eyelids.

"I'm gonna join you in the bed now, okay?"

"Mm? Mhm," Peter muttered a response as his thoughts got back in gear.

Tony enjoyed the slow tease of having Peter's hands on him but he couldn't help wanting to return the touches as well. He wanted to entangle himself in the other's embrace and enjoy Peter's sweet mouth in his.

With a nod, the young man shuffled aside so that Tony could climb up in the bed with him. As soon as he did so, Peter pulled him in to feel his lips. 

Tony moaned at the contact, freely showing the pleasure he got from this simple act. He leaned in, one knee on the bed to help him balance as he chased after Peter's lips.

"I take it back…" Peter let his murmur into the kiss, "You're not the most handsome man alive, you're… no man at all," It was embarrassing to say that stuff but Peter's need was so great that he didn't care for Tony's likely teases. 

The blush that warmed his cheeks was steadily spreading down his neck and up to the tip of his ears. 

"You're unreal, Tony, it's not fair, not fair," he let himself go, pinned under Tony's weight, legs spread apart. 

There was nothing between them, no clothes, no underwear. Bare skin rubbed over bare skin, exciting them both. Before he got too excited, Peter pressed his soles into the mattress and pulled them closer to his body. 

"I'm ready, I want this, please," Even as he said that, his heated frame was shivering under Tony, a testament to Peter's unbearable impatience.

Tony kissed him softly and ran his hand up and down Peter's side. His fingertips slipped over the bumps of his ribs, up and down, in a soothing caress.

"Soon, baby," Tony promised him. He kissed him once more before he reached into the bedside for the lube and condoms before falling back into Peter's embrace. "Still gotta get you ready."

"Ever done this, baby? Even just during some solo time?" Tony asked, just so he would know how to pace himself.

He still wanted to be careful, still wanted to take his time, but Peter's answer would help him figure out what his young lover was familiar with.

With a shake of his head, Peter gave him a silent answer. For reasons foretold, Peter never had the need to stimulate himself more than, well, a little. This was his first time with another man but also, his first time exploring the great pleasures his body could provide. 

Peter kept his eyes on Tony, never leaving him, not for a second. Theoretically, he knew what was about to happen, so he shuffled back on the bed to lay back down with a couple of pillows nudged between him and the headboard. 

"I'm- I'm really clean, you, uhm, don't need to worry about that," he mumbled, clearly referring to the nether regions with which Tony was about to play. 

Peter's heart couldn't wait. 

His legs were quivering as he forced them apart. 

Tony had no doubt that Peter was telling the truth. He, himself, had been very meticulous in grooming himself for their date tonight. Beard trimmer, hair styled perfectly, even though now it was ruffled from Peter's touch.

With the bottle of lube on standby, Tony really looked at his soon to be lover and noticed how nervous he was. It was understandable. His brave and courageous boyfriend found it so easy to throw himself in the face of danger in their everyday lives as a superhero, but this was different.

He was trusting Tony with his heart and his body.

Tony got on his knees and settled himself between his beloved's legs. Leaning over the younger man, he took the time to kiss him soundly, one hand caressing up and down his side in a soothing manner.

The heat between their bodies was enough to make him melt and his hard cock rubbed against Peter's erection. With one large hand, he was able to encompass them both, giving slow, almost teasing strokes.

"I'll take care of you, sweetheart," Tony promised. "It may feel a bit uncomfortable but it shouldn't hurt. You tell me right away if you need me to slow down or you want to stop, okay, baby?"

Quick nods came in confirmation. Peter's eyebrows were already pinched together, his lip sucked in while pleasure erupted through his lower half. Already, his fingers wrinkled the sheets and they were nowhere near getting started. Or so Peter's inexperience declared, unaware that even now, he was amidst making love with his one and only. 

Tony's hips started to thrust, slowly and sensually, their cocks rubbing together. He got a bit of lube to slick their lengths and with a soft groan, Tony started to move against his lover.

"Want you to relax for me," Tony whispered against his gasping mouth. "Just wanna make you feel good again, Peter. Let me?"

He could tease and work Peter up all night if this was all Peter wanted. Just seeing the pleasure transform the younger man's face into a look of pure ecstasy was more than enough to have Tony feeling on edge.

How did he get so lucky to have this man in his life?

Peter's head pushed back into the pillows as his lips parted, letting out gasp after gasp. 

"Tony… Tony…" he chanted, wound up to the fullest under the older man. "I'm getting close again," he let out breathlessly and peeked up at Tony with a hint of desperation. 

Features shaped by pleasure, forehead shiny with sweat, Peter couldn't deny himself the sight of his cock pressing against Tony's. 

"Oh… ah… I'll relax, I will, I want it," Words pushed out of his lungs with difficulty as he was doing anything but relaxing.

Tony slowed down, attentive to Peter's needs.

"Too much? Not enough?" Tony prompted. "Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you."

"You! I want you!" Peter had no answers other than the obvious. Swept up by desire, the world around him, around the both of them, had seized existing. 

It was too much and yet not enough. Was it ever going to be enough?

Tony trailed kisses down Peter's jaw and nuzzled beneath his ear. His beard scratched against Peter's skin, leaving faint lines of pink in its wake.

His tongue peeked out, licking teasingly as he headed his way down to the younger man's collarbone. He released his hold on their erections as slippery fingers trailed down between Peter's legs over his hard cock and past his soft testicles. Tony gently rubbed against his lover's untouched hole, slicking it with lube.

"Breathe, Pete," Tony instructed, "Not gonna push in yet, but I need you to breathe for me. The more relaxed you are, the better."

He nuzzled against him once more then kissed the excited ticking of his pulse right at his throat.

"Bear down for me and it'll be easier…" Tony murmured, still circling… massaging… just letting his lover get used to the feeling of being touched there. 

It was good. Peter mewled at the cold lube but before long, it warmed up, drawing heat from Tony's hot fingers and Peter's sizzling skin. 

The tightness in his belly eased, encouraged by Tony's whispers that were leading him through this carefully. Peter felt kept, adored. He felt atop the highest mountain peak. 

Under his arms, Peter's hands dove to grip around Tony's back. Right into his shoulder blades, his fingers rubbed red lines. 

And he kept on breathing as Tony instructed, in and out, slowly. A perfect contrast to the pounding of his young heart. Another breath and ah–

"Tony," he called out into his loved one's lips. "It's good, feels good, doesn't hurt. Is it… is it good for you too?" Whispers full of need came, accompanied by cut off little breaths and a hopeful smile. 

"Yeah, baby," Tony promised him, "you're making me feel so good right now… Feels like heaven when I'm with you."

One more circle before Tony decided to continue on.

"Gonna put a finger in, okay, sweetheart? Just bear down for me and breathe just like you're doing now," Tony told him before he nudged his fingertip inside.

With lube, it slid in nice and slick. He felt it the moment Peter's body clenched down, a natural response. So he waited, just letting Peter adjust to this new sensation.

"Does it feel okay, Peter?" Tony asked, nuzzling against his sweat damp curls. "You're doing so well for me, baby, doing so good already…"

For a moment, Peter laid there, surprised by the weird sensation. He nodded to ensure that Tony didn't pull back, yet soon after, shook his head as well, for nicely convoluted conclusions.��

"It's weird," Peter admitted with a gasp, but Tony's murmurs reassured him once more, helped him relax just enough to not clamp down on the man's finger.

"Feels tight," Even as he said that, the feeling was already shifting. His tight rim adjusted around the digit, allowing for it to sink in further. 

Rapid breaths followed, and Peter didn't need to speak for Tony to know he was starting to… like it. A gentle nudge of the young man's hips sought to push down, to take more of his finger until the tightness returned. 

Then Peter's belly clenched all over again, his loose grip flexed. 

"I didn't think… it would feel like this…" he even managed to spare a little laugh while drowning in Tony's kisses. Just as quickly, the humor drained from his eyes that looked up at the man pleadingly.

"More…" 

Tony smiled into the kiss. He didn't want to deny him, but he didn't want to rush him either.

He gave him more, anyway. More friction, more sensation. Carefully, he started to pump his finger in and out, attentive to every minute change in Peter's expression.

It also filled him with awe to see the way the younger man's face flushed and grew lax with pleasure.

"So good…" Tony continued to praise him.

Once he was confident that Peter was ready to move on, he slipped his lone finger out, added some more lube, and then pressed two digits inside.

It was a time consuming effort but it was worth it. More than that, it was necessary because Tony wanted this to be perfect for Peter. It was almost a desperate desire, his need to make sure his young lover would look back on this time and just know how much he meant to Tony.

Sex was supposed to feel good. Body shyness and maybe some weirdness because it was new, but Peter was supposed to feel good about this. Everything Tony was doing was for him.

Two fingers became three and here, Tony had to pause. They had worked up to it, but it was still a lot. He could tell from the little crease that appeared between Peter's brows.

"Still good, sweetheart?" Tony asked.

He tipped the younger man's face towards his, brushing aside sweat damp curls and smoothing away the troubled line.

"I- I can't anymore, Tony, I can't anymore," Breathless and desperate, Peter's voice was rendered thick with his protests.

The words were almost like a splash of cold water. Tony was ready to fly off the mattress, about to do anything to make his boyfriend comfortable again.

But the worry faded as he realized the words meant something else. His tense shoulders relaxed and he slipped his fingers out of Peter's slick and loosened entrance.

The slow and careful process had tipped the young man's impatience into its breaking point. Rationally, it was what was best for him and for what was going to follow. But there was no sliver of logical thinking left in him. 

He wanted Tony, he wanted him now. He yearned for him with such untamable passion that ache was a welcome trade off if it meant he could feel him sink inside.

"Please, I don't want to wait anymore, I'm ready, please," he begged in Tony's ear. 

As much as Tony would rather prepare him for another thirty minutes, there was just no waiting for that long. 

"I want to feel you, I want us… to become one," Peter's words come from deep within, from the most sacred place in his heart.

Tony couldn't deny him anymore. If anything, he'd take it nice and slow for him in the beginning and adjust to the situation. His own cock throbbed between his legs, an ache he had successfully ignored until now. 

"We already are, Pete," Tony told him, but he still gave the younger man a grin. 

He knew that Peter might retaliate for this. The careful preparation wasn't intended as teasing on Tony's part but he wouldn't blame his younger lover for seeing it that way.

He leaned in close, kissing him hard, before he pulled away.

"You know I can't say no to anything you want," Tony smiled, "And… and I admit, I was torturing myself there too. You're so handsome and perfect, Pete. It was like torture touching you like that, knowing we both wanted more…"

He retrieved the condom, effortlessly tearing a corner to open the package. Slick with lube, he pinched the tip before he rolled the condom down the length of his cock. A quick, measured stroke made sure it was properly slicked with lubrication and then he turned back towards his lover.

It felt so natural to slip between his legs and it felt so good to rub against him.

Tony's hands ran over his thighs and legs, hooking behind his knees and leading them around his hips.

"You want it like this?" He murmured against Peter's mouth. "Or you can ride me if you want. Let you control how much you take in."

He gave in to the desire to rub against him. His hips gave languid little rolls, providing the perfect amount of friction to tease his cock along Peter's erection and balls.

"Like this–" Peter whispered with no breath to spare. "Just like this." 

Lips brushed over lips, chasing kiss after kiss.

There was silence, and then there was this, a moment of frozen time before an irrevocable change. It was the culmination of all their moments, all the happiness, all the sadness, all the emotions that ranged in between. But it wasn't an end, it was just the beginning.

Two hearts thumping hard and fast, triumphantly and yet with hints of despair. Perched at the very precipice of completion. 

The sound of breaths that could never hope to suffice accompanied them. 

"This is perfect," He needed Tony to be the one leading the action, because he knew, he would soon get lost in it.

Tony took just a moment longer as he memorized Peter's features. His curls were spread out on the pillow like a halo and his mouth parted, inviting. The warmth between their bodies and the warmth of their love… It truly was perfect.

Tony pressed closer, urged on by Peter's hungry hands and his trembling smile. He sealed his lips over his lover's as he nudged his hips closer. The tip of his cock nudged in as well, slipping slowly but surely into Peter's body.

Tony's name climbed all the way to his lips from the bottom of Peter's lungs as they emptied, but it didn't make it out. Dull ache stretched inside him, the same tightness and burn he had felt earlier only greater. 

Yet, this was barely a fraction of what he was feeling. The discomfort was so closely intertwined with the surge of pleasure that he thought them to be one and the same. 

Tony, his Tony… The fling that had turned into a firestorm through the years of watching him from afar, was finally allowed to combust. 

With little noises and whimpers resembling too close the sounds he made during an orgasm, Peter clung on, toes curling mid air to release some of the tension.

Tony made sure not to rush. Even with his body's base instincts pushing for more, for faster, his muscles obeyed his mind as he took his time. He paused about midway, breathing coming out in shallow pants.

Tight heat surrounded the length of his cock and he paused, seeking reassurance from the younger man beneath him. Another soft kiss was pressed to the corner of Peter's lips.

"This okay?" Tony murmured as he rubbed some warmth into Peter's raised thighs.

"Yes- yes-" Peter gasped as sweat dribbled down his body. He nodded, words just weren't persuasive enough. They were coming out too desperate. 

Tony breathed out some of the tension he felt. He could see it though, just how much Peter was feeling. The way his dark lashes fluttered told Tony that the experience was just on the right side of overwhelming.

He nuzzled close, hiding a silent groan against Peter's neck. Even though Tony was the more experienced one, being with Peter was just as overwhelming for him. Because… because he loved his funny, smart, and drop-dead gorgeous boyfriend.

He loved him and they were just… so good together. The next words that came out of Peter's mouth told him just how in sync they were.

"I love you, Tony, I love you," Peter's words came out like a prayer, whispered just between the two of them. 

Tony erased those few inches that separated them and kissed him soundly. Peter's words rang in his mind, filled with the weight of his love.

His hand curved around Peter's cheek and he locked eyes with the younger man. Brown met brown, two souls connecting in body and soul.

"Love you, Pete," Tony told him, "Love you so much, baby… so much…"

Peter was so pliant and inviting beneath him. His lips were soft and sweet, and his arms, strong and assuring.

Tony moved with soft, gentle rocking motions, still mindful of how novel this experience was for Peter. He basked in the warmth of his body, all the while murmuring how Peter was so good and so perfect for him. A million words fell from his lips to describe the handsome brave young man he was so lucky to call his. 

Just as he was Peter's.

Soon, Peter was able to take all of him and Tony groaned at the tightness that surrounded him. He still wouldn't let it fog his mind and he continued his work. It was a process but he found all those sensitive places inside of Peter that made the younger man's breath hitch and his toes curl in pleasure.

The strange sensation within Peter's body was swiftly shifting into something else. He thought it had been good this far, but the more Tony moved, the more gratifying the feeling became. Pleasure obtained so many layers. 

Soon, his eyes were flying open, his mouth stretched apart as a rush of heat flooded his belly. 

"Ah…! Tony…!" There was safety in knowing Tony's actions were deliberate. The man knew what he was doing to him, easily leading him up to that high and holding him there.

Tony moaned when he felt Peter tighten around him. He pushed back in, just like that, to stroke that sweet spot that rewarded him with such encouraging moans.

"There, baby?" Tony chuckled, eyes hooded with satisfaction. 

"There-! It feels… so good!" The gleam of tears in his eyes never gathered enough room to grow and quickly dried. 

"Mm…" Tony grunted and did it again and again. 

The pleasure was clearly written on Peter's face and the older man hungered to do more, to give him more. The bed shook as he increased his pace, adding just a bit more force as he started to give his lover what he needed.

Sweat dripped from his hairline, cooling heated skin. He tossed his head back, ignoring the sweaty tendrils of hair that clung to his forehead. His focus was entirely on Peter and the way his mouth trembled, shaped into a blissed out 'O' as Tony made love to him.

He could feel Peter's cock pressed between their bellies and with one hand, he reached for it.

"Peter…" he sighed against his mouth, "You feel so good, baby… Wanna make… you feel so good…"

He started to stroke the hard length in sync with his thrusts. The amount of precum Peter was leaking by then was more than enough to slick his entire length. Tony's hand pumped, up and down, up and down, steady with just the right amount of friction to make Peter squeeze his eyes shut as the pleasure doubled, then tripled.

Tony's fingers tightened around his cock and with it, Peter's body clenched uncontrollably. He was seeing stars, squealing for air while his fingers dug into the back of Tony's neck. 

Pleasure felt like a torrent, flooding him more and more with every rub Tony gave him, every thrust in his tight hole. 

"Tonyy…" The young man keened next to his ear. 

Peter had never called out to Tony this way before. Higher in pitch and fueled by an unbearable need, the name ripped from his burning lips when he came.

His cock pulsed in Tony's hand, squirting out spurts of cum even if Peter had come not that long ago. All his senses were consumed with lust and love.

TonyTonyTony… 

Moans of fulfillment pushed out from his shuddering form. His mind went blank for that split second when he felt Tony pushing in the deepest. Squeezing him the tightest.

Peter needed to look at him. Too heavy to fully open, his eyelids danced softly, eyes made into narrow slits making it possible for him to glimpse at his lover. 

Objective accomplished, Tony allowed himself to be fully present in his pleasure. His eyes squeezed shut with the threat of rolling to the back of his head and with lips parted, Tony chased after his own orgasm.

It didn't take much effort. Peter was warm and tight around his aching cock. Every thrust into his lover had Tony groaning harshly and unrestrained.

He could no longer hold himself up, consumed as he was by the need to press close. Peter's heart hammered against his chest, his own heart beating back against his ribcage in an answering call.

His name, spoken by his love, only stroked the flames inside him. 

"Pete…" It was exhaled right against Peter's neck, lips brushing softly against sensitive skin.

Tony came with a harsh shudder as he sank in deep. He held Peter close in an almost bruisingly tight grip as he gave his all, emptying into his lover's body with stilted thrusts.

In the aftermath, his eyes opened, dazed for just a moment before they focused on the vision beneath him. Tony smiled and turned them on their sides. The cleanup was quick and efficient, the condom disposed and a spare washcloth used to wipe them down. Once done, he nuzzled against Peter's face, fingers curled in Peter's hair.

"How you feeling…?" Tony murmured. He stroked the edge of a cheekbone, lovingly and full of tenderness.

Next to him, nuzzling in close, so close that his nose was touching Tony's, Peter murmured sweet nothings in response. It was downright impossible to describe how he was feeling but he didn't really have to.

Glistening with sweat, his flushed face was glowing with the most spent, blissed out smile. All his adoration and amazement poured out his sparkling eyes, and after each breath, a little sound of astonishment followed. 

"Tony…" he let out and pressed his lips on the other's, pulling back just as quickly to suck in a breath.

Peter was so happy that a small chuckle escaped his lips while he was still unable to answer Tony's simple question. 

It took a few moments before he could look him in the eye and say, "Incredible… incredible… When… when can we go again?"

Tony had worried for a moment that it hadn't been what Peter was expecting but those words… The older man chuckled and buried his face in the crook of Peter's neck.

"Nap. Or cuddles, first," Tony demanded with a hint of laughter. "Then… Yeah, maybe we can do more."

He tilted his face to kiss Peter's jaw and then settled in, arms wrapped around the other. He didn't think he'd be able to resist for long, but then again, it wasn't like he wanted to.

"Second thought," Tony said as he sat up. "We can continue this in the shower. If you're feeling up to it?"

Peter grinned widely. His chest and heartbeat were still too rapid from the high that slowly drained away, leaving behind a fuzzy glow.

"No… You're right…" The young man gave in, eyes softening as he playfully tugged Tony back close to him. 

"Cuddles first."

"Cuddles first," Tony agreed and kissed Peter's forehead before settling right back where he belonged.