#I got threats for staning him but turns out...

[moontheoretist]

Fury leaned back in his seat. His good eye roamed across Tony’s face. “Then you know what we do.” “I know what you say you do—hell, I believe you actually believe in what you do.” “Your father believed in the same.” “My father, Devil rest his ornery soul, was a paranoid alcoholic so traumatized from early childhood poverty and anti-Russian sentiment that he grew up to be a controlling, obsessive, emotionally absent man so hopped up on his brand of toxic masculinity that he worshipped an icon of American nationalism and neglected his only child in the process. This, of course, left said child with a barrage of psychological issues. That report you have on me was surprisingly detailed. This is why I quit therapy the first time, by the way. Some people are only in it for the money.” “Goes to show how little you can trust anyone.” “Which brings us closer to why you’re actually here. How much can Tony Stark be trusted? Obadiah Stane turned out to be a bad bet—how much influence did he have on Tony Stark? Am I warm?” “Eh, pretty warm.” “I mean, I already know because I have your texts to Maria Hill pulled up. You should sleep more, Director.” Fury’s poker face was a thing to be admired. “I get it,” Tony continued. “I was the exact same. But marriage changes a man. Leave the phone at its charging station and set a firm bedtime and, oh, I can’t believe I’ve lived any other way. I’m sleeping like a baby. When I’m not doing other things. That was innuendo, by the way.” “I’m aware, Stark.” “Let me ease your fears, Director. We are both very busy men. My father provided SHIELD with his time, technology, and resources freely. I respect that. That shit’s yours. But while you’re using said tech keep in mind it was my father’s and I’m well aware of how it works. On top of that? I’m much smarter than he ever was. Your teams of scientists and techs are boring me to tears. And your head scientist Hernandez does good work but his math got a little sloppy in regards to Howard’s iteration of repulsor tech. Tell him to tighten up.” “I’m so sorry to hear that. I’ll let them know to do better. I can’t abide slackers.” “Same. You know, I actually sort of blame myself for this snafu. I’ve been slacking off myself these past few years. Partying, drinking, drugs…man, I was something else. But this past year has showed me just how lazy I’ve gotten. Physically; mentally.” “Is that a threat? In addition to the others you’ve given during our conversation.” “Oh, no, no. That’s a promise. You’ll find me very focused in the future, Director. Deadly focused.” They stared at each other over the metaphorical chess board between them. Fury moved. “…Self-improvement is important.” “So important. By the way?” Tony slid a thumb drive across the desk. Fury eyed it. “Seriously? I’m already reading your emails just take it.” “What’s on it?” “You got a very bad infestation, Director. Take a look and you’ll see I am the least of your worries.” Fury nodded. He turned the drive over in his fingers and the usb seemed to vanish into thin air. “Holy shit you have got to show me that trick. My little girl would love that.” “This has been enlightening, Stark.” “Happy to be of service.” “But I wonder if your father would approve. You must know we’re not the enemy.” “You’re not my friends, either. Besides, my father had a lot of faults. I’m a little jealous, though.” “Oh?” “Even though Howard worked his way up to become a millionaire, I find this story to be even better: it’s one of an Alabama sharecropper scraping together every last cent to his name to send his eldest to the esteemed Morehouse College in Atlanta, Georgia. Healthy family dynamics-so inspiring. That son was very lucky.” Finally, a twitch. Tony leaned his chin on his clasped hands. “Keep my father’s name out of your mouth, and I’ll keep yours out of mine.”

Have Time — Will Travel by flower-of-el (NibelungVelocity)

This is literally the first time I see any backstory for Nick Fury.

[wicked-mind]

The Forgotten One

Summary: Steve and James inherited the Red Star mob from Obadiah Stane who considered them his sons. Little did Obadiah know that his niece, Y/N, had the two wrapped around her finger. But Obadiah took care of that problem without even realizing it.

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Violence, mentions of abuse, swearing, minor character death, some drinking. (If I missed anything let me know)

All Writings Masterlist

Note: Just a little story I had in my head that probably won't get a second part (: Plus I love mob!bucky and mob!Steve.

Any likes, comments, and/or reblogs are deeply appreciated!

*Gif not mine

Her eyes flickered between the two men in front of her. They are both equally beautiful, almost god like. Steve was tall and blonde, muscles ripped across his body. He looked menacing but the way those baby blue eyes stared into her’s showed nothing but love and gentleness. Then there was James, otherwise affectionally known as ‘Bucky.’ He was slightly shorter than Steve but just as muscular. He had a more rough look to him and unlike the gentleness that showed in Steve’s eyes, James’s blue eyes glowed with wild desire and hunger for her. Y/N drove both Steve and James crazy. She always had. The way she looked at them, the way she teased them had always been unbearable. Her favorite thing to do was try to tease them when they were around Obadiah since her uncle didn’t know of the secret relationship she had with the two. She would walk by sucking on a popsicle in the summer, letting her eyes meet theirs for longer than they should before disappearing. She would tan out by the pool as they watched her rub sunscreen along her skin in a teasing fashion. In the winter when it was cold, she would shed her jacket and fake shiver, lightly whining to them that she needed to be warmed up. Y/N was in a bit of a pickle when it came to the two. She had known them both for three years since coming to live with her Uncle Obadiah who was an awful man towards her. They taught her to defend herself, unleash that ruthlessness and darkness in her. She was eighteen now, same as them and there she sat in front of them. They both loved her deeply and she loved them both as well. It was no secret she toyed with both of them, having them both sneaking into her room at night through the window and flirting incessantly with them both. But now it seemed like she had to make a choice between the two which Y/N despised. She wanted them both. She needed them both. Her nails tapped on the arm of the chair as her eyes continued to flicker between the two.

“It’s okay to love us both, you know.” Steve finally spoke, breaking the silence.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, “Is that right?” She asks, her eyes moving to look at Bucky, “Is that how you feel?”

Bucky grinned over to her, “I’m not one to share…” He purred out to her in that deep seductive voice he always used around her, “But Steve is right, it’s alright to love us both. As long as you let only us love you.”

Their love was short lived though. Not soon after the conversation was had between the three, Y/N disappeared with Obadiah claiming she had gone abroad for college.

Obadiah Stane was one of the head mob leaders in New York over the Red Star mob. He didn’t have much competition besides the Red Skulls and the Walker family mob. He had taken care of mending differences with the Walker mob ten years ago, some sort of agreement that nobody but him knew of. When Obadiah passed away, James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers took over the business. They had been in Obadiah’s mob since they were both fifteen, starting as drug mules and making their way up to being the right hands of Obadiah like they were his own sons. Although, under the new rule of Steve and James, things were getting shaky. James despised the Walker family mob due to the fact that John Walker, the new head of the Walker family mob, had taken his left arm ten years ago when he was almost nineteen in an attempt to kill him. James hated when Obadiah mended bridges with the Walker family and vowed to Steve that as soon as they were the head of the Red Star mob, he would take care and eliminate the Walker family off the map.

James and Steve stood over John Walker who sat in a chair with a scowl on his face in the living room of his own home. They had came here for a business meeting that was really a planned strategy to take care of Walker and his minions. James and Steve had taken off their black jackets, their white dress shirts stained with blood spatters from the beating they had taken turns giving Walker.

“Now, Walker. You took my arm nearly ten years ago.” James smiled darkly down to Walker, “Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it?” He said, pulling out a black pistol that had a silencer on it and held it to John’s forehead. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, a commotion from another floor above him made him stop.

Steve glared over at Clint and Sam, two of their main enforcers, “I thought you cleared the house, took care of everybody.” He hissed out to them coldly.

“We did!” Sam interjected firmly, “Everybody’s been taken care of. We checked every room.”

James lowered the gun from John’s head and looked to Sam, “Well, did you manage to check the attic?” He asked.

Clint looked to Sam and they both shook their head no, “Nobody’s ever in the attic, boss. We didn’t check, we’re sorry.” Clint said.

Steve ran his hand over his face, “I’ll check it out.” He told them and James, “If you need something done correctly, do it yourself.” He muttered before turning and leaving the room. He walked up the second floor, running his dark blue eyes along the ceiling until he found the pull down for the stairs that led to the attic. He reached up and gripped the string, pulling down the creaking stairs to the attic. He stepped up slowly, pulling the gun from the holster on his hip and holding it out as he got to the top of the stairs. He slowly holstered it as he looked around confused. The attic looked like it had been made into a bedroom. There were empty plates of food on the floor by where Steve had come up the stairs. There was a small bed in the corner with a dresser and mirror but no windows. Steve frowned as he looked around, it looked like it was made from a girl and if Walker was keeping a girl up here prisoner, that would just make him and James more angry with more of a reason to kill him. He walked around the room slowly, checking around every corner where someone could be hiding, holstering his gun as he didn’t feel like he was going to be met with a threat. He walked to the edge of the bed and looked down at the floor. There seemed to be scratch marks coming out from the bottom of clawed into the wooden floor like someone had been dragged out from under it multiple times. Steve cautiously lowers himself to the floor until his chest was on the wood and he could get a clear glimpse of under the bed and his eyes went wide a little bit at the sight.

In the very back squished against the wall was a woman staring back at him with wide, emotionless eyes. She had crammed herself into the very corner under the bed, laying on her chest and watching him very closely at every move he made. She looked skinny like she had never been fed well, her lip was split open and she had a black eye that looked freshly given to her. Her face was swollen, leaving her features unrecognizable to anybody who may know her. Steve couldn’t figure out why, but she looked familiar, “Hey, I’m Steve. I can help you out if you want to come out of there.” He said with a small smile, reaching his hand out but quickly taking it back when the woman flinched at him reaching for her, “Okay, stay here I’ll be right back.” He told her before standing up and walking back down the stairs from the attic and back to where James was still with Walker. Steve went straight to Walker and lifted him up out of the chair by his collar, his eyes darkening into a glare, “Who is she?!”

“Nobody. She’s nobody.” Walker spat out at Steve, falling back into the chair when Steve released him.

“Who is who?” James asked Steve curiously, raising an eyebrow.

Steve shifted his gaze over to James, “There’s a woman upstairs in the attic. Looks like she’s been kept there for a long time, all beaten.” He motioned for James to step out of the room for a more private conversation, “You should go see her, Buck. She looks familiar but I can’t figure out how.”

James nodded sternly at his best friend’s slight concern in his voice, “You said the attic?” He asks to which Steve nodded, “Keep an eye on Walker. I’ll go check her out.” He said before making his way up the stairs to the second floor then up the stairs of the attic. He looked around, same as Steve and took in the surroundings. He spotted the scratch marks on the floor from under the bed quicker than Steve had and walks over slowly. He puts his chest flush to the floorboards and peered under the bed, meeting the same wide emotionless eyes that Steve had seen. James observed her for a moment, studying her. Her hair was in messy braids, a freshly split lip, and a black eye that had just tarted to turn from red to purple. She was skinnier than she should be, malnourished. She looked about his age and didn’t seem super familiar… Except for those eyes. The way those eyes looked at him, though emotionless, was familiar. His’s fingers tapped against the wooden floors as he watched her. When he moved, her eyes flickered to watch his movements before returning to stare him down, “What’s your name?” He asks gently, but sternly.

The woman stared at him, her head tilting slightly at the question. She kept her mouth shut, not making any attempt to speak to him.

James sighed softly at her silence, putting his forehead to the floor before lifting it to look back at her, “Look, Walker isn’t going to do anything to you ever again. Let me help you, alright? I’ll get you out of here.”

The girl stayed silent at his words for a few minutes, her eyes scanning every movement his face made. She was calculating her options. Her eyes lingered from his face, down his neck, observing every part of him she could see. Once her eyes find the holstered gun at his side, her eyes slowly snaked back up to his face. The girl looked over to the exit from under the bed that James wasn’t blocking, slowly crawling towards it as her eyes returned to watch him. She pulled herself out from under the bed and stood up to face the now standing dark haired man.

James watched her crawl out from under the bed, slowly standing as to not spook her in any sort of way. His eyes raked over her now fully exposed finger. She wasn’t wearing any shoes and her feet were dirty so it seemed like she hadn’t in a long time. She was wearing all black sweatpants with a grey tank top. His eyes went back to her face as he puts his hands in his pockets, keeping a distance, “Gonna give me a name yet?” He asks but wasn’t surprised at the no response that came from her, “Come on, I’ll get you out of here.” He said, pulling a hand out of his pocket to gesture towards the open hatch that lead out of the attic. When she didn’t move, he started walking over and down the stairs out of the attic. James turned when he was at the bottom to look up at her as she followed him down the stairs. When she made it down, he lead her down the stairs back to the main floor with him still in the lead, looking over to Steve who was in the room adjacent to the stairs before looking back to the woman who was making her way down the stairs. At the last few steps, the woman stumbled and James reached up his arms to catch her.

Once the woman landed in his arms at the bottom of the stairs from the stumble she had planned, her eyes flickered over to Walker over his shoulder for a moment. She had planned this from the moment she saw the gun holstered on his hip. She swiftly moved out of his grasp, taking the gun out of his holster as she pushed him away and faced Walker. Nobody had time to move or even process what was happening before the woman fired one bullet from the pistol straight into Walker’s forehead.

Everybody jumped at the sound, ducking away a little at the suddenness of it. “Holy shit!” James yelled, grabbing the gun away from the girl quickly, clicking the safety on and putting it back in his holster. He took a deep breath, looking at Walker’s motionless corpse propped in the chair, “Karma really is a bitch. Nice shot, doll.” He said, almost impressed. For someone who looked like they’d been locked in an attic for a decade, she definitely know how to handle a gun.

The ride back to Steve and Bucky’s mansion was pretty much silent. The woman stared out the window, watching as the black SUV pulled up to an all to familiar mansion. She was shown to a large bedroom where she could stay while she healed up and until Steve and James figured out who she was and why the way she looked at them looked so familiar. The bedroom was painted a light cream color with a king sized bed covered in red blankets. The large windows were covered with gold curtains and a dresser with a TV on it sat opposite of the bed. A small couch sat against the window and there was a door that led to a full sized bathroom with not only a shower, but a large bathtub. A redheaded woman had come in to clean her wounds and also brought extra pairs of clothing as well as any toiletries she made need. Three meals were brought to her room daily since she didn’t dare step outside the safety of her own room. James and Steve had tried to spark conversations with her but they were always met with the same emotionless stare towards them, her eyes flickering between the two as if she was studying them, waiting for them to make a move. She didn’t sleep in the bed once over the span of a week staying there, instead she always pulled a pillow from the bed and curled up underneath the bed as she had for the last ten years living in the attic of the Walker residence.

The woman sat by the window on the couch as James and Steve entered the room after a soft knock on the door, both moving to stand in front of her. She watched them intently, her eyes flickering between the two as she watched every movement they made until they came to a stop in front of her. James’s hands were tucked in the pockets of his black dress pants he always wore while Steve only had one hand placed in his pocket, the other resting at his side. They waited for a moment to see if she would speak, but nothing passed her lips. The swelling on her face had gone down a little, causing some of her features to peak through though her skin was still covered in healing bruises and small cuts.

“It’d be very helpful and appreciated if you tell us who you are.” James said over to her, his lips still in a firm line. The way she was watching them, it was like she was calculating their every movement. But damn, her eyes… Something about them hinted that she was messing with them.

Steve stared into her eyes, trying to figure out why she seemed so familiar to them. It was like he was hypnotized into her eyes and when she looked at him, his own eyes narrowed slightly, “You know us.” He stated.

The woman raised an eyebrow slightly at them, the corner of her lip twitching ever so slightly upwards before returning to an emotionless line once again. She did know them. Ten years ago, she told them she loved both of them before they were taken away from her.

With a failed interaction, James and Steve left the room defeated once again. They made their way to Steve’s office who started pacing with his brow furrowed slightly as if he was trying to think, “She knows us. We know her.” He murmured out.

“Yeah, it’s like she’s teasing and testing us with her stares.” James scoffed, walking over and pouring some whiskey into a glass before bringing it to his lips, “It’d be really helpful if she would just tell us her name or a least utter a word. Her face is still too swollen to really tell who she is or was.”

Steve looked over to his bookshelf for a moment before making his way over to it and pulling out an old dusty book that sat on his shelf untouched for years. He flipped through the pages until a photograph hidden in the middle of the book paused him. It was from almost eleven years ago. It was a polaroid of James and himself laying on either side of Y/N on her bed, her eyes gleaming and a small smirk on her lips. Steve studied it for a moment before walking over to his desk and slamming the book down on the the table open with the photo showing, “Ten years, Buck. Ten goddamn years.” He growled out, his features darkening as he figured out the puzzle of their mystery woman.

James walked over to the desk and peered down at the familiar photo before looking to Steve and raising an eyebrow, “You think it’s Y/N?” He asks.

“Think about it, Buck.” Steve told him, “Ten years ago Obadiah squashed the beef between the families and wouldn’t tell anybody how. Exactly around the same time he claimed Y/N went to study abroad and we never heard of her again. She didn’t even come to her uncle’s funeral!” His voice was raising in anger as he explained, “He never liked her, he got stuck with her. Obadiah gave over his own niece to the Walker family ten years ago as a peace treaty. She loved us. She chose both of us. She would’t have just left without at least saying goodbye, she wasn’t that heartless.”

James had finished his whiskey and slammed his glass down on the table before picking up the photo and studying the woman in the photo intently. Those eyes in the photo had an eery similarity to the woman they had rescued from the Walker house. Then he remembered how she had raised her eyebrow at him and the corner of her mouth had twitched for a moment into a half smile and he felt his heart sink and his anger rise at the same time, “We were the ones that taught her to shoot a gun… Fuck, we should’ve known.” He said, lifting his flesh hand to run through his dark hair, “We just believed Obadiah like a bunch of fucking idiots. And she’s been tortured by the Walker family for ten years.”

Steve sighs, placing one hand on his hip and the other ran through his short blonde hair again, “No wonder she won’t speak to us.” He said, a tinge of hurt in his voice that was still deep with anger, “We’ll give her some space for now…”

The two men did give her some space for about another week which allowed the rest of the swelling and the wounds on her face to heal for the most part. The bruises had a slight yellow color to them still but other than that she looked almost normal again. Y/N had aged in the ten years, of course and even though she didn’t speak a word to anybody or show her emotions, she still felt everything for James and Steve even if she didn’t show it. Y/N was laying on the couch, a book in her hands as she read through the pages in silence. She had managed to sneak out of her room one night and found a bottle of whiskey that she brought back to her room which sat on the floor next to her with the cap off. Once in a while she would reach down while she read and took a small sip. Her reading was interrupted with a knock at her door and Y/N could tell be the way it sounded that it was her boys. They entered and she kept her eyes on the pages in front of her, unmoving as they both walked closer.

Steve stopped a little in front of her, noticing the open whiskey bottle on the floor. Y/N always liked whiskey and would have them steal bottles for her at times when they were younger. James was more forward than Steve was, he walked up and lifted her legs up from the couch and sat himself down before letting Y/N’s legs fall onto his lap, but still she didn’t tear her eyes away from the book, “We know who you are, doll.” James told her, pulling out the photo of them and leaning over to hold it in front of her book.

Y/N looked at the photo, closing her book and dropping it on the floor. She reached down and sat up a little, bringing the whiskey bottle to her lips and taking a small sip. Her eyes flicker between the two men, James who still had her legs on his lap and Steve who stood there looking at her with those gentle blue eyes, “Took you long enough, I was beginning to think you two had some sort of dementia.” She said out to them.

At the sound of her voice, Steve released a deep breath. Her voice just cemented the fact that it was Y/N, even though they both already knew that from the moment they stepped in the room and saw her healed face. He quickly walked over and kneeled down beside the couch, reaching out and taking her face in his hands, “We thought you left us… Obadiah said you went to study abroad.”

Y/N rolls her eyes slightly at him, “Me? Leave the two of you after you agreed to let me have all of both of you? That would make me some sort of idiot which I’m not.” She told him, her lips curving into a small smile. She could feel James’s hands rubbing on her legs softly but she pushed herself out of their touch and stood, stretching her arms above her head as she walked a little away from them. She turned to glance them over. Ten years had been well to them. They both put on more muscle than they had before and they were still as hot and desirable as she remembered them being, “Walker told me a while ago that my evil uncle had passed away and that you two were the new heads of the Red Star mob. I knew it was a matter of time until you found me.” Her eyes flickered to James, her eyes tracing down the gold and black metal left arm, “Especially since Walker did that to you. I knew you’d be set on revenge.”

Steve moved to sit next to James, watching Y/N intently, “Why didn’t you just tell us who you were when we found you?”

Y/N tilts her head at them, “Where would be the fun in that? You know I like to see you two all frustrated and pouty.” She asked with a small smirk, “Besides, I wanted to watch you two. It’s been ten years, had to see if you two were still mine or if you found someone else.”

James stood quickly at her words, walking towards her until he was inches from touching her with his body. The words stung him a little bit. Sure, there had been other women that himself and Steve had enjoyed but the love they both felt for Y/N never matched with any of those one night stands, “There’s been nobody else that has even came close to matching how we feel about you.” He said down to her, his voice tinged with a bit of anger, “You’ve always had us wrapped around your little finger.”

Y/N smiled up at him, noting the small bit of anger in his voice towards her. James had always been a little rougher with her and his anger switch was much easier to flip. She bit her bottom lip as she lifts a hand to brush along his cheek gently, watching him instantly melt into her touch, “That’s just how I like you two- wrapped around my finger like the good boys you are.” She told him before stepping away and moving to the dresser. She was wearing simple leggings with a tight black tank top. She pulled out one of the tight black dresses Natasha had provided her, turning to face Steve and James as she pulled all the fabric from her body until she was left in her bra and matching underwear. Y/N watched their eyes rake over her almost naked form, how their eyes flashed with lust and desire for her. She smiled teasingly at them before slipping the dress over her figure. It clung to her body, showing all her perfect curves and the bottom of the dress ended just at her thighs. turning her back towards them, “Now which one of you want to zip me up?”

Both Steve and James practically leaped at the chance, pushing each other away for the honor of touching Y/N and zipping up the dress. They had always been competitive when it came to Y/N’s love even though they both knew she loved them equally. Steve managed to be the one to slowly slip the zipper up from her lower back until he reached the top. He didn’t move from behind her though, instead moving one of his hands to her hip while the other stroked her hair to one side of her neck. Steve leaned forward and gently brushed his soft lips up her neck until they were touching the back of her ear, “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” He whispered to her, “But why get all dressed up?”

“Yeah, there’s no need to change, doll.” James said, moving to stand in front of Y/N with that crooked grin plastered across his face, “We’ll just have to rip that dress off later. We have ten years to make up for.”

Y/N was smirking at Steve’s touch. She always had them wrapped around her finger since she met them and enjoyed every touch they left on her body, “I’ve been holed up for ten years, my loves.” She reminded them, her eyes locked onto James’s light blue ones, “You two are going to take me out for some fun.” She slowly ran her tongue along her top lip, “Then, when we get back, you two can work on making up for those ten years.”

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[aurumacadicus]

what about 5head canon of the ugly duckling. A little tony raised by cruel obadiah and his son zeke,believing himself unlovable and rejected by his family, befriending maybe natasha or rodhey and forming a family with all of the avengers, maybe finding that maria and howard had been searching for him? i love the found family troupe, sue me.

A babby feeling unloved and unlovable 🥺🥺 And an ugly duckling!!!! Well clearly I have to make this a wing fic because I love wing fics and also... assholeswantony

Tony knew he didn’t belong long before he realized that his wings didn’t match the rest of the family’s. Obadiah wasn’t mean to Zeke like he was to Tony, and Zeke wasn’t mean to any of his friends like he was mean to Tony. The woman who nannied the two of them didn’t stop Zeke’s bullying, either. Tony didn’t understand. He could remember a woman with gentle hands singing to him in a language he remembered understanding but couldn’t now, and a man who curled his wings around him at night when he got scared. But Obadiah and Nanny never did that. He wondered what had happened to that lady and man. Maybe they’d gotten rid of him like Obadiah always threatened to, Tony thought, sniffling softly. Maybe they hadn’t wanted him, and Obadiah had taken pity and taken him in. “You must go,” his nanny whispered. Tony frowned up at her, confused, wings fluttering. “Go?” “Please, Tony, you must run away,” she insisted, grabbing his shoulders and giving him a shake. “I heard Mr. Stane talking to his business partners. He plans on having you and Ezekiel marry once you come of age.” “But he said I could go to school,” Tony whispered back, brows furrowing together. “He lied,” she told him, voice firm, and Tony had never been so convinced of someone’s sincerity in his life. “Apparently he has always intended for you to be Ezekiel’s bride. And while I am a coward who didn’t protect you, I will not watch that man force you to walk down an aisle to your doom.” “Where should I go?” Tony asked, voice trembling. His nanny took a deep breath, then cupped his cheeks, thumbs gently running over his cheekbones. “Anywhere, as long as it’s far, far away from here,” she told him, and then handed him a bag with food and a couple changes of clothes in it. Tony waited until the rest of the family was asleep, then opened the window, spread his wings, and fled into the night.

Tony found living on the streets very difficult. As cruel as the Stanes had been, he’d always been well-fed, clean, and healthy. He wondered if that was so he would be attractive to Zeke, then immediately decided not to think about it anymore, because the idea was terrifying. He was picking through some trash outside a bar when a shadow fell over him. Tony yelped, spinning around and throwing his wings out into a threat display. “Stay away!” “Nat, it’s just a kid,” a fucking giant said, looking pained. Tony bristled. “I’m seventeen!” “A baby,” the smaller woman, Nat, replied, raising her eyebrows at him. “Why are you digging through trash?” “Because I’m fucking hungry? Why else would I be digging through trash,” Tony answered, glaring at her. The giant turned to stare at Nat. Nat stared back at Tony for a very long time before looking up at the giant and saying, “This has awoken something in me. He’s coming home with us. You will eat what I make you,” she added to Tony sternly. “I am afraid,” Tony told the giant as they followed Nat out of the alley. He wanted to run away, but he was honestly a little scared that the owl would chase him down, and she while she was petite, her biceps had looked huge when she’d had her arms crossed over her chest. “I mean,” the giant replied, squinting at Nat’s back with a frown. “You should be?” Tony whimpered, terrified.

Natasha and Steve turned out to be very nice. Tony wondered if this was what a real family was supposed to be like--Natasha made him lots of food, and Steve always made sure he had a jacket before he left, and they both made a show of locking all the windows and doors at night when they noticed Tony fretfully checking behind him as they walked home. They introduced him to their friends, who were also really nice to him. They weren’t offended when he wouldn’t let them preen him, or when he slapped hands away from teasingly going for his food, and one time Sam had even held him while he cried because Thor had playfully ruffled one wing as he passed, not knowing that both Obadiah and Zeke had grabbed the same wing in a tight grip to drag him where ever they wanted him if he wasn’t moving fast enough for their likings. Everyone was so kind. He didn’t quite know what to do in the face of it. “Where’s your family, pretty bird?” Natasha asked one night as she very carefully preened his wings. “Surely a smart, sweet person like you has a family.” “I don’t know,” Tony admitted. “The one I ran away from was the only one I can really remember, and they weren’t really mine. I guess they only kept me to be a ready-made bride.” Steve looked up from his newspaper, disgruntled. “They what?” “Steve,” Natasha said, glancing at him warningly. “You never let me punch anyone anymore,” Steve complained, looking back at his paper. “That’s because we can’t afford bail right now. You ate up our bail savings at the last Pride event,” Natasha scolded. “And none of it got used on me, so you mind your business.” “It’s not my fault you have self-restraint,” Steve muttered, then peered at the pile of feathers Natasha had accumulated. “Hmm, that’s a lot of molt. Your adult feathers must finally be coming in.” “Lots of white, and with a wingspan like this, maybe an albatross?” Natasha mused. Tony flapped his wings lightly, considering. Maybe he was an albatross, or maybe a heron or crane. “I wish I was an eagle like Steve,” he finally said. “Or an owl, like you.” Natasha and Steve both flashed him a smile before she tipped his head back so she could press a kiss to his forehead. “You’ll still be ours regardless of what sort of bird you are, Tony.” Tony couldn’t help but beam up at her.

“Oh my God,” Bucky hissed, punching first Steve and then Natasha in the arm. “He’s a trumpeter swan. He’s a fucking trumpeter swan.” Tony frowned when he noticed everyone else staring at him, clamping his wings down against his back. “Is something wrong? They--they’re ugly, aren’t they? My wings.” “They’re not ugly,” Bruce rushed to assure him. “But you don’t like them,” Tony said, wringing his hands together. “I--Should I leave?” Steve immediately stepped up to him to pull him into a hug. “No,” he said sternly. “No. We love your wings and we want you to stay as long as you’ll have us. You’re beautiful, Tony, and so are your wings.” “They are definitely going to be a pain to keep clean though,” Thor added ruefully, ruffling his own large, pale feathers. Tony perked up a little. “Do you have any tips?” “I have many tips,” Thor answered, and then, when Clint elbowed him, added, “How about I show you right now? Do you have a full length mirror?” “Natasha lets me use the one in her room,” Tony said, leading him out of the living room. The others waited until the door had shut behind them before they quietly began freaking the fuck out. There was only one family of trumpeter swans in New York, mostly because they were territorial but also because when their fledgling had been kidnapped, every other trumpeter swan had feared the same happening to them and fled the area to places not as crowded. Only the one family had stayed, because if their child survived his kidnapping and he one day tried to find his parents, they wanted him to be able to come back to the home he’d known. Maria Stark had made a tearful plea for her son or his body to be returned while Howard, dead-eyed and silent, stood at her side on the anniversary of his kidnapping for the last twenty years. And they’d found Tony Stark on the street, picking through trash, not knowing who he was until his adult feathers had come in. “Fuck,” Sam blurted out. “Dibs on not being the one to call.”

“My parents live here?” Tony asked, peering up at the mansion as they were let through the gates. “I don’t believe it.” “The DNA test came back, so these are absolutely your parents,” Steve said, knuckles white around the steering wheel as he edged up the drive. “And yes! You are going to meet them, if only to get closure, so I’m not turning around.” “What if they see me and don’t want me?” Tony asked softly. Natasha reached out to pull him into her arms. “That’s not going to happen,” she assured him, because she remembered with clarity the year that Maria Stark stopped begging for her boy’s return and instead tearfully added, ‘Or his remains.’ They’d expected to be let in, to a stiff room with uncomfortable chairs, but instead they found Howard and Maria Stark waiting at the top of the stairs outside the door. Natasha and Steve shared an uncomfortable glance, wondering if they should get out ahead of Tony and try to ease the way. But then Tony was darting out of the car and running up the steps before they could even move toward their doors. Maria and Howard ran to meet him and met him halfway down the stairs. Maria took his face in careful hands, whispered a tearful, “Tesoro! Cuore mio!” Tony didn’t know what the words meant, but he could recognize that they’d been said to him before, with all of the love and affection in her heart. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out except a broken-sounding sob. Then it was growing dark, and he looked up to find that Howard was wrapping his impressively large wings around all of them, arms coming up to gather them both to him. Tony’s breath hitched. These were the same wings that would wrap around him after a nightmare as a child. “I know you,” he croaked, and then buried his face in Maria’s shoulder with a sob, wondering how he ever could have thought that these people got rid of him by choice.

Bonus: Steve and Natasha move into the mansion for a bit to try and make the transition easier on Tony and literally the first night when Steve and Howard both move to put their wings around him, they get into a fist fight. “I cannot believe,” Natasha breathed, pulling her phone out to take pictures. “I’m surprised that Howard is actually holding his own,” Maria admitted. “Steve looks quite muscular.” She glanced at Natasha. “Who are you sending those to?” “The group chat, so everyone can call Steve a territorial idiot,” Natasha replied. “It keeps him humble.” “It does not,” Tony squawked, making Maria laugh in surprise.

[twokinkybeans]

MAKE IT LAST - STARKER MOB BOSS/COFFEE SHOP AU

HERE IT FINALLY IS! So, a few months back we did a prompt line fic thing. This means this one shot is wayyyy late, but it also got wayyyyyyyyyyyy out of hand and is now nearly 11k words long omg.

The prompt line @jeranasblog gave me was: "He had spilled his coffee on the suit of the most dangerous man in New York City." I hope you enjoy! <3 -Lien

Warnings: Adult!Peter Parker, Mob boss!Tony, Barista!Peter, No powers!AU, Peter is a little dense but we still love him, angst, fluff and smut, near the end there are some gruesome threats, abduction, guns, May is mentioned, Obadiah Stane is the bad guy, Bucky and Steve are there, Coffee Shop boss is an OC and has a gambling addiction. Smut tags: NFF, teasing, sexting, masturbation, orgasm delay/denial, hand job with much lube lol, hand & finger kink, praise kink, daddy kink, possessive kink, dry humping, finger sucking, anal fingering

Read “Make It Last” on AO3! Taglist: @the-secret-avenger ​@ironspiidey

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“Two minutes, Peter- hurry up!” Mister McDougall’s high pitched command reverbs through the coffee shop. In two minutes, it’ll be two PM on the Tuesday afternoon. Peter’s been working here for three years now. Just yet, he tried to quit, but that wasn’t taken kindly. He can still feel the eerie presence of the tip of a knife on his cheekbone. How Peter got himself stuck in this job is a long story. A very long one. You see, the owner of the coffee shop, Mister McDougall, made a deal with New York’s biggest mafia boss to be able to keep the shop and… He wasn’t able to pay back on time. Lucky for Mister McDougall, Peter was working when the Big Boss came to collect. At two PM. On a Tuesday afternoon. A few months ago...

The bell of the front door rang and Peter walked in from the back, smiling kindly. He greeted the rich looking man. “Good afternoon, Sir,” he said in his regular chipper voice. The man cocked an eyebrow over his sunglasses and pursed his lips. His neatly trimmed beard moved along with his expression and he sniffed once. “One black coffee to go,” the man demanded. Peter’s mood didn’t falter. He was used to stern customers, New York generally wasn’t a kind city. Peter smiled and nodded, immediately getting to work. It wasn’t a difficult one to make, after all. He’d ring this guy up in less than a minute. “You know what,” the man suddenly said. “Make that a caramel Frappuccino. Extra whipped cream. Drink here. Make it last.” Make it last? Peter wondered what the man meant with that. It was only then that Peter realized that the man was studying his every movement a little more closely than a regular customer would. It didn’t necessarily make Peter uncomfortable, though. The man was at least twice his age, but it was undeniable that he was the hottest man Peter had ever laid eyes on. Even though his eyes were covered by an expensive pair of sunglasses. Peter quickly moved to pour the milk, but the man’s deep voice filled the empty space again. “Make. It. Last.” Peter blinks, dumbfounded. “You… You want me to work slower?” The man then raised his hand to pull down his glasses slightly, so he could look Peter in the eye properly. Infinite whisky browns stared straight into Peter’s soul. “Yes.” “A-alright,” Peter stuttered and went back to work, tearing his gaze away from the man. If Mister McDougall were here, he’d kill him for working at this pace. But ah well, the customer is always right. The customer is king. And the man he was making the coffee for sure looked like he was in charge. Maybe he would leave a nice tip. “Where’s your boss?” There was a hint of annoyance hidden in the man’s voice. “Mister McDougall?” Peter replied as he turned to grab the caramel. “He’s at a convention on the other side of the country. Was pretty vague about it, to be honest. Something to do with beans.” “Beans,” the man scoffed. “Sure.” He rolled his shoulders and walked to the other side of the counter where Peter would ring him up. His eyes never left the young man. “And he left you in charge of the store on the day he knew I’d show up?” Peter glanced up from his work questioningly, but then shrugged. “Apparently.” “Do you know about our deal?” “Oh!” Peter exclaimed softly as he placed the large cup on the counter. “He mentioned he was working on a business proposal with someone, but I didn’t pry, cause this isn’t my store. I’m sorry, Sir, did he have an appointment with you?” The man gritted his teeth and pushed out his reply. “Yes.” “I could call him now? If you want?” A slight smirk crept up on the man’s face. “Please do.” Peter didn’t hesitate to grab his phone from his back pocket. There usually weren’t any other customers at this hour of the day anyways. He looked up the number of his boss and hit call. “Hey Pete-“ “Hi, Mister McDougall, there’s someone here to see you, but you must’ve forgotten your appointment.” The other end of the line stayed quiet and Peter pulled a face at the customer. “Sir?” More silence. “Do you want me to reschedule it for you?” “Peter,” the customer interrupted them. It didn’t matter how long Peter wore that name tag, he never got used to strangers saying it out of the blue. “Hand me the phone and go to the back. Mister McDougall and I can discuss our arrangement here and now, but I do require some privacy.” Peter blinked once. Twice. And then he slowly moved to give his phone to the man in the suit. “Don’t let your coffee go cold,” Peter said with a curt nod before rushing off to the back. He shuffled to the dishwasher and turned it on to give them some more privacy, the loud rumble of the water inside the machine drowning out any other sound in the back. Not even five minutes later, the man walked into the back with Peter’s phone in hand, a dark smirk plastered on his face. “Your phone,” he said politely, placing the piece of technology in Peter’s palm. Peter smiled warmly. “Thank you, Sir.” He walked passed the man back to the front. The man followed. “No, Peter, thank you,” he chuckled. He grabbed his coffee from the counter and sat down at one of the tables. “Did the arrangement work out okay?” Peter asked innocently. If this man was working together with his boss, it was probably smart to stay kind. Though, that wasn’t all that hard, somehow. There was something about him that lured Peter in- made him feel warm and at home. The man grinned even wider while placing his sunglasses on the table. “Perfect.” His smile turned sour after he took a large sip from his coffee. “Is- is something wrong?” “Eh, no. I’m not one for overly sweet coffees.” Peter swallowed a sassy reply. If he didn’t like Frappuccinos, why would he order one? “Would you like me to make you another one?” “Still got that black coffee there?” “Yes, Sir.” “Very good.” The man left, just as hoped, a big tip and walked out the door with a promise. “See you next week.” Somehow, that made Peter’s stomach tingle. He did want to see the man again. There was something mysterious about him. Alluring. Their conversations were interesting and surprisingly eloquent. The man was very smart and Peter found himself loosening up more as the chat went on. The man let him. It was nice. That night, when Peter wanted to message a friend, he wondered when he added “TS” in his contact list. He didn’t recognize the number, but he couldn’t be bothered to look it up either. From then on, every Tuesday at two PM on the dot, the man walked in. Mister McDougall was always nervous about his arrival and usually fled to the back, leaving Peter to take care of the customer. But more often than not, he’d leave Peter in charge of the store entirely, leaving for appointments or errands whenever the man was bound to come in. Peter learned the man’s name is Tony and their conversations were always pleasant. Interesting. They talked about Peter’s life, mostly. Tony always managed to make everything about the college student, earning his cash as a barista. Peter didn’t mind, but he couldn’t help that he was curious. Tony offhandedly said he worked in real estate, when Peter asked. That and ‘some other things.’ He learned Tony was a tinkerer and a scientist in his free time. That he enjoys fixing up old cars, modern art and what he called ‘a good fuck.’ The comment had Peter blush a bright red. A blush Tony would always compliment whenever it crept up to his ears. Something about Tony drew Peter in. Maybe it was their casual conversation. Maybe it was his compliments. Maybe even his smile? Though, Peter’s smile always faltered as soon as other customers came in, since Tony would usually leave the store when they did. One day, the customers appeared to be his employees. And they all stayed. Two men, both tall and wide. One was blond, clean shaven and the other had slightly longer brown hair and a trimmed beard. “So, this is your Tuesday retreat, boss?” the blond quipped before ordering an americano. “Shouldn’t you be working?” Tony sassily replied, leaning back in his chair. “Coffee break,” the brown haired man said simply. Tony scoffed and waved it off. The three men were awfully picky about what they said and how they said it, Peter could tell, but that might just be private business stuff, so he didn’t pry. After they finished their drinks and walked out the door, Peter blushed again when the brown-haired man spoke. “That sure was a good coffee. I’d come here every Tuesday too, if I knew I’d be served by such a good lookin’ young man.” The compliment was paired with a wink. The door closed and Peter laughed softly to himself when Tony gave the brown-haired man a gentle slap at the back of his head to scold him. … One Tuesday, Peter called in sick. He lived to regret that. Mister McDougall was furious, but Peter couldn’t help that he was down with the flu and he didn’t want to make other customers sick. Especially not the man he’d grown to like so much. He got a text, later. TS: Are you okay? Peter: Who is this? TS: Tony. TS: Black coffee Tony. Peter: Oh! Peter: Sorry, I wasn’t at the shop today. Caught the flu, I think. Hope not worse. Glued to bed rn. TS: Got it bad? Peter: Can barely stand, tbh. Coughing a lot and it sounds weird. Don’t wanna make anyone sick. TS: That’s sweet. Peter: Just lookin out for the little guy. TS: I’m not little. Peter: Didn’t meant it like that, omgg, im sorry! TS: I’m messing with you. Peter: Ohh 🙈 It was quiet for a little bit, and Peter nearly fell asleep again if it weren’t for his screen lighting up. TS: Can I get you anything? Peter: I’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll be fine. I mean it. TS: Peter. Tony wasn’t even in the same room as Peter, yet he knew exactly how Tony would’ve said his name if he were. Peter: I’m a college student. Meds are out of the picture. Don’t have much cash. TS: I do. And after not even half an hour, there was a doctor on Peter’s doorstep to check on him. Pneumonia in its early stages. A few days of antibiotics and he should be good as new. He wasn’t sure how Tony knew his address, but figured he got it from Mister McDougall. True to the doctor’s words, Peter was up and running again in a few days and on Tuesday, two PM on the dot, Tony walked into the shop with a wide grin and spread arms. “Good afternoon to my favorite barista,” he quipped. Peter grinned and cocked his head. “Good afternoon to my favorite customer.” “Oh,” Tony gasped, placing his palm on his chest. “You flatter me.” “Do I? With the tips you leave, everyone must like to see you.” “Most rather see me go, trust me.” Tony loudly cleared his throat and evaded Peter’s gaze to collect himself, before he casually leaned over the counter. “Black.” His coffee order is followed by his usual command. “Make it last.” “All I do is press a button, Sir, it’s pretty hard to make a black coffee last.” Peter laughed quietly as he started rubbing a cloth over the counter to clean it while the coffee set. “Then make yourself what you like.” Peter stared at Tony for a second before turning to grab another, taller cup. “Would you laugh if I said it’s a caramel Frappuccino.” He licked his lips. “With extra whipped cream?” “No,” Tony replied immediately. His voice was lower. Darker. Hotter. “It fits you.” “Does it?” Peter chuckled as he handed Tony the black coffee. “Overly sweet,” Tony said with a nod, toasting and raising the cup to his lips. He glanced at Peter and then repeated himself. “It fits you.” Peter slowly moved around the bar, preparing his own Frappuccino. “Thought you didn’t like caramel Frappuccinos?” “I like you.” Peter didn’t halt his movements as he worked himself around the coffee machines, though, his body went at a whole different speed than his brain. Did Tony actually just say that? “I think I like you too.” The reply had left Peter’s lips before he could even process the thought. “You think?” This time, Peter stopped. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” It was barely a whisper. His hand was stuck on the lever and he bit his lip. “Wha- dating?” Peter opted to ignore the implication of what Tony just said and instead, replied honestly. “Flirting.” “Oh, pretty boy, you’ve got a lot to learn. And experience.” Goosebumps spread over Peter’s body at Tony’s words and he closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was because he felt embarrassed or… Something else. This was the first time Tony called him anything like this and it felt like they both stepped over some sort of threshold they had both been ghosting by for a while now. Tony brought him back to the present with his trademarked sniff. “I have no need to rush things. If you’re interested, we’ll take it slow.” Peter finally turned his head to look at Tony with big eyes. Tony just smirked and quipped with a wink. “We’ll make it last.” … Peter: You up? It was two AM. Two Tuesdays later. Tony had become a lot more flirty and a lot more forthcoming with his sweet words and suggestive praise after they addressed their interest in each other. Most of it was via text, but whenever he was at the store, Peter could see Tony’s dilated pupils, could feel the man’s hot breath as Peter explained how one of the machines worked with Tony right behind him. He admired Tony for holding back too. He knew Peter wanted to take things slow, heck, he even suggested it. And he never snapped. Never broke. Never did anything out of line. Sure, his words were suggestive, but he never acted upon any primal needs. He was a gentleman. And it made Peter respect him even more. It also made him want Tony even more. Peter bathed himself in the compliments Tony peppered him with and Peter realized the man knew everything he said and did made Peter… Needy. Peter was fairly sure Tony was already asleep, but after all the sweet and… slightly filthy things the man had been saying to him that day, he couldn’t help himself, he had to jerk off. And he needed Tony to help him with that. TS: Been working. You’re up late. Don’t you have uni tomorrow? Peter sighed gratefully as he typed one handed, the other already creeping down to cup his half-hard shaft through his sweatpants. Peter: I do. TS: Hm. TS: Then why would you message me so late, huh? Peter wanted to scoff. Of course, Tony knew. The man just wanted Peter to say it. And… Peter kind of liked it. No matter how embarrassing. He typed and erased. And typed and erased. Typed and erased. He really wanted to send Tony what he wanted, but he felt like too much of a chicken to actually say it. He needed Tony’s sweet words. His… His filth. Peter: I’m,, eh… TS: Hm? Peter: Talk to me like you do in the shop? Please? TS: How I talk to you in the shop is a lot tamer than what I think you need right now. Peter hid his face in his pillow for a second, before taking a deep breath and finding the courage to reply. Peter: What do I need then? TS: You need me. Without a filter. But before I tell you anything… Where are you right now? What are you wearing? Talk to me, first. Peter: Alone. Bedroom. Bed. Sweat pants. T-shirt. TS: Turn off autocorrect, baby, how am I supposed to know you’re losing yourself if I see full words? Peter: happyy now? TS: Yes. One-handed, huh? Already touching yourself? Peter: mhm, thruogh fabric. TS: Alright, first things first, pretty thing, take off all your clothes. TS: Make it last. Peter complied immediately and he both loved and hated the slow movements he used to slide off his shirt. When his sweatpants were down on his knees, his screen lit up. TS: Are you making it last? Peter: yes TS: Good boy. Peter didn’t expect to moan so loud, but he did. The praise blasted through him and went straight to the cock that now rested against his abdomen. Stiff. Twitching. Leaking. Peter: say thatagain TS: Earn it. Peter: how TS: By being good for me, my sweet. Are you naked? Peter: almost TS: Let me know when you’re done. Peter was almost afraid that when he finally finished undressing after another minute, it was still too fast for Tony. He decided to make the jump, though. Peter: done TS: Lovely. Hard, baby boy? Peter let out a soft growl and was already struggling to type. Peter: ys, for you TS: Touch yourself for me. Go on, hump the hand you make my coffee with, Peter. It felt perfect – absolutely perfect – to wrap his fingers around his cock, now that he was doing it on demand. He couldn’t even hold back if he tried. His thrusts were relentless, straight away. Peter: Yyes yes TS: Oh, I wish I could see how pretty you look right now. How you roll your hips and fuck your fist. TS: Want to see the sweat drip from your temples, want to hear your soft gasps and moans. TS: Want to hear my name fall from your lips. Say my name, Peter. Say it. “Tony- O-oh-“ Peter gasped and he barely managed to keep his eyes open to watch the next few messages come in. TS: Don’t come. Not yet. TS: Slow down. Peter: nn tony please TS: Make. TS: It. TS: Last. Peter felt the tears stream down his cheeks. He felt so good. But he couldn’t come. Not with Tony right here with him telling him not to. Peter: yes sir TS: Good boy. Peter: feelsso good when u callme that TS: Mm. It does, doesn’t it? You know what makes me feel good? Peter: ?/ TS: When you call me Sir. A dreamy smile spread across Peter’s face as he lazily stroked his cock. His hips kept rolling, arching his back and lifting off the mattress with each thrust. His intellect had melted away. All he wanted was to feel good for Tony. TS: You know what else would make me feel really good? Peter: nno? Sir TS: If my good boy called me Daddy. Peter had to stop his hand or he would’ve cum right then and there. And he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He simply had to make it last. Instead, he moaned obscenely. Peter: ggod, nearlu came TS: Did you now? Peter: yes daddy Peter: held back TS: Oh, you’re so sweet for me. Wish I could taste that awful Frappuccino on your lips. Suckle on your tongue as I squeeze your cock, run my thumb over the head. TS: You have no idea how much I want to make you come for me. Peter: wanna cum for u Peter: faster?????????????/ TS: Speed up, baby. Show Daddy how desperate you are for him. Such a good boy for asking permission. The fact that Tony’s messages were still put together as opposed to Peter’s near button-mashes had another rush of arousal flow through Peter. Everything about what was happening was so hot. He’d never done anything like this before. He never even had sex in his life. And now the hottest man in New York was sexting him. God, he wished he could see Tony right now. Was he naked too? Was he stroking himself? Maybe he was fingering himself. Or fucking himself on a dildo so he still had two hands to type his coherent sentences with. Shit, that’d be so hot. Though, the image of Tony at his desk, working while casually messaging Peter all these things as if it’s just a regular chat about their day was even hotter. Tony, in his tailored suit, barely bothered by Peter’s desperation. Fuck. Peter: Yes yys ddaddy thanku TS: Mhm. It didn’t take long for Peter to get near the edge again. He was barely able to contain himself, phone shaking in his hand with every jerk of his other fist. Peter: close TS: Are you now? Peter: ya TS: Do you want to come? Peter: eys yes so badsoo bad TS: What do good boys say when they want to come? Peter squeezed his eyes shut, gasping and writhing on his sheets. His toes curled as he whined and begged while typing. “P-please-“ he muttered. “Please, please, please-“ Peter: pleease TS: Please, what? That’s it, Peter couldn’t type anymore. Didn’t want to type anymore. Instead, he hit the voice record button. “D-daddy, wanna cum, I wanna cum so bad, please, may I?” His lines were paired with moans and sobs. Desperation dripped from every word. Every thrust of his hips, every squeeze of his fingers, had him see stars. He had to come, he simply had to. But he couldn’t. Not yet. Lucky for Peter, it didn’t take long for Tony to reply with a voice message of his own. His deep, dark voice, coated with lust, like fresh honey, echoed through Peter’s simple bedroom. “Come, Peter. Come for Daddy.” … As time went on, Peter realized that Mister McDougall didn’t like to have Peter around anymore. Every chore he had to do, every command he had to follow, everything McDougall asked of him; he was never good enough. Peter felt like a nuisance. And he wanted out. He felt a weight fall off his shoulders when an on campus lab learned of Peter’s skills and offered him a job. So now, a few weeks after Peter and Tony started sexting, Peter told Mister McDougall he wanted to quit. “You can’t,” was the short reply. It had Peter nearly explode with frustration. “I can, though? I got a job offer in one of the labs on campus, I’m not letting this fly by!” Mister McDougall grabbed Peter’s shoulders and dragged him to the back by his shirt. He nearly flung the young man against the large dishwasher. “You’ll ruin me! You’ll get me killed!” “Don’t be so dramatic!” Peter yelled back. He was done working for Mister McDougall. So done. Peter swallowed his next words when a knife was suddenly pointed at his nose. He stared at it wide-eyed as he got ushered into a corner. “Tony owns this building, Peter, and the only reason I’m allowed to stay here is because you work here.” “Wha-“ “SHUT UP! You shut your mouth! I’d have fired you ages ago if it weren’t for him!” Tears pricked in the corners of Peter’s eyes. “If you leave, I’m going to pay your aunt a visit. And none of us will like what I’ll do to her.” What was happening? What was going on? Why did his boss threaten him like this? “S-sir?” “You’re not quitting, you hear me? You’re gonna get your ass back on the floor and you’re gonna do your job. As long as Tony doesn’t hate you, I can keep this business. You don’t want me to lose this business do you?” He waved the knife, pushing it towards Peter’s left eye and resting the tip right below it. The young man leaned back as far as the wall allowed him to. “Do you?!” Peter didn’t even dare to blink. “No, sir,” he lied. “Why are you so scared of him?” Mister McDougall laughed maniacally. “Why aren’t you?!” He yelled. “That’s Tony Stark! He owns sixty percent of New York!” The world stopped spinning. Tony - Peter’s Tony - is Tony Stark. The biggest, baddest Mafia Boss of New York. Known to be vile, relentless and cruel to anyone who dares to cross his path. And Peter… Peter had fallen in love with him. No. No, he didn’t. He fell in love with Tony. Not with Stark. But if they were one and the same, maybe the stories were wrong? Maybe- “You didn’t know?” Mister McDougall stepped back and let his arm down. Peter finally allowed himself to breathe, even if it was the worst intake of air he’d ever done. He held back his tears with everything he had. “No.” “Jesus Christ.” Mister McDougall threw his hands up, flailing the knife around. “You’re an idiot!” “But-“ A quiet beep came from McDougall’s wrist. He looked at his watch and turned. “Two minutes, Peter- hurry up!” Mister McDougall’s high pitched command reverbs through the coffee shop. In two minutes, it’ll be two PM on the Tuesday afternoon. Peter’s been working here for three years now. Just yet, he tried to quit, but that wasn’t taken kindly. He can still feel the eerie presence of the tip of a knife on his cheekbone. How Peter got himself stuck in this job is a long story. A very long one. “Get to work.” Peter swallowed and blinked away his tears as he walked into the front of the store. He took a deep breath and fumbled with some of the cups on the counter. Mister McDougall stayed in the back, as usual. Peter looked up, startled, when the bell rang. Tony walked in, blissfully unaware and leaned on the counter like he always did. Peter was bad at hiding his fear, he knew that, and it didn’t even take a second before Tony caught on. “Did you cry?” His question was blunt. Straight to the point. “I’m alright, I hit my head.” Peter had to pause to clear his throat in the middle of his sentence. His words were small. Unsure. Tony didn’t buy it. “Who hurt you?” A shiver ran up Peter’s spine. He couldn’t tell Tony about what Mister McDougall did to him. As much as he disliked the man, he didn’t want the deadliest man in the area to… To hurt him. Peter didn’t dare think of the k word. But more importantly, he didn’t want anything to happen to May. “Me,” Peter tried to sound cheerful, but his voice shook. “I hit my head. I hurt me.” Peter finished up the black coffee and turned to give it to Tony, so he could start making his own Frappuccino. Tony wanted to take his hand, but Peter swiftly turned around. He played the machine to make his own drink, but he couldn’t focus. He couldn’t make it last. He had to get it done. As fast as possible. He had to get this over with. Tony spoke, but Peter didn’t hear it. He could already feel the tears threatening to glide down his cheeks. He couldn’t pretend. He couldn’t- Tony grabbed Peter’s wrist from over the counter and the Frappuccino cup slipped from the barista’s fingers. Peter stared wide-eyed at how the scorching hot liquid gushed onto Tony’s suit. The stain was evident, but Tony seemed unfazed by the heat. Peter’s lip trembled and he was certain there was no oxygen left in the store. He had spilled his coffee on the suit of the most dangerous man in New York City. Peter barely dared to look up, but when he saw Tony’s expression, his shoulders fell. The way the man looked at him was… Vulnerable. “You’re afraid.” Tony’s voice was fragile. “Of me?” Peter squeezed his eyes shut, letting the tears flow freely now. He screwed up. He screwed everything up. “I don’t know,” Peter replied honestly, through quiet sobs. Tony swiftly jumped over the counter so he could embrace Peter. “Talk to me, Bambino.” “I- I didn’t know-“ “Didn’t know what?” “S-Stark-“ “Yes, Frappuccino, that’s me.” “Did you just call me-“ “Yes, did it make you feel better?” Peter scoffed, but managed to smile. “A little.” Tony then pushed Peter away from him to force the young man to look him in the eye by holding Peter’s chin between his thumb and index finger. “Did you really not know?” Now Peter feels stupid. He should’ve caught on, obviously. Everybody knew Tony Stark. Peter pushed his lips together and gently shook his head. “Oh, bother,” Tony mumbled as he pulled Peter against his chest to hug him tightly. Peter’s insides were in a struggle. Every part of his rational brain told him to get out of there. To push Tony away. The man was bad news. He reeked of danger, yet… He smelled so wonderful. His cologne invaded Peter’s nostrils and there was no way the young man could let go of him. The way his arms were wrapped around Peter’s shoulders, the way he held him, kept him warm and safe... No matter how frightening Tony might be, Peter felt protected. He was exactly where he was supposed to be. Peter’s face was pressed against Tony’s shirt and he could feel the wet coffee stain from Tony’s suit seep onto his own pants. A hand found its way into Peter’s hair and gently started massaging his scalp. The soft lips Peter had only imagined up until now, pressed themselves onto his curls and stayed there, leaving long, slow pecks. Sometimes, Tony hummed. With every passing second, Peter’s muscles relaxed more and more until his body practically went limp against Tony’s. “Now…” The man finally spoke. He gently pushed Peter away from him until he could look Peter in the eyes, hands cupping his face. His thumb gently stroked away the drying tears and he smiled kindly. “Who hurt you?” Peter’s pouting lips were pressed together. He tried to hide the truth, but one quick glance towards the back and Tony knew enough. “Please, don’t kill him,” Peter whispered. Tony scoffed softly. “Is that why you’re suddenly afraid of me?” Tony pushed forward slightly, until something long and hard pressed against Peter’s thigh. And it wasn’t Tony’s cock. “Cause I’m not just happy to see you?” Peter whimpered and closed his eyes, still not wanting to leave Tony’s embrace, even though he was afraid of what might happen next. “Do you know why I own 64.7 percent of New York?” Peter shook his head lightly, focusing his attention on Tony’s warm hands still keeping his face up by his cheeks. “Because I don’t just shoot whoever gets in my way. I give people a chance,” Tony said matter of factly. “Take your boss, for example. This building? It’s mine.” The way Tony enunciated the word, not just verbally but also with a soft squeeze of his hands, had a shiver run down Peter’s spine. “Ex-gambling addict who wanted to get back on track. Promising fellow. Clean for years. He loaned a chunk of my money to start his business. All was good. A thriving coffee store can make quite a bit of money in this area in New York. During my first visit I learned that not everything I offered him went into this shop. Told him I wanted the money back that he didn’t spend on the store. He also couldn’t pay rent. Somehow.” Peter breathlessly listened to everything that came out of Tony’s mouth. “I gave him another shot. Told him to have my money ready in a month. That’s a fair time to make what he owed me. And when I came into the store to collect… I found you. And your boss? Well, he wasn’t exactly at a convention. He was at the other side of the country, though. In Vegas.” Tony sighed and broke eye contact for a few seconds. “This is where it gets embarrassing…” He mumbled. “Embarrassing?” “I was completely enamored by you, Peter.” Tony’s eyes reconnect with Peter’s and they lock gazes. “And I decided that, when you called McDougall, I’d change the deal. He’d get a delay on his debt as long as you would be there to serve me coffee. On Tuesdays. At two PM. Figured you’d stick around for a while, give McDougall enough time to cover his ass.” “So,” Tony cocked his head. “After half a year, he still doesn’t have my money. And I’m guessing you want to quit the job?” Peter nodded, face contorting. “He had a knife and-“ “A knife?” The energy in the room changed abruptly. From loving and caring to dark and aggressive. Peter immediately pulled back, but Tony’s grip on him tightened. “He threatened you?” He seethed. “No- Tony, please,” Peter begged, but he didn’t fight. “Is he in the back?” Tony stared Peter down with an intense gaze. The young barista froze. “Peter.” “Yes.” Peter felt small, yet his body betrayed him when his cock stirred at Tony’s authoritative voice. Tony guided Peter to one of the chairs and gently sat him down. His hands caressed Peter’s curls before he pressed another kiss on top of them. He bent down until he squatted in front of Peter and looked up reassuringly. “I will not physically harm him, I promise. I just want to have a word with him, okay?” “Okay…” Tony smiled and nodded before standing up and making his way towards the back. Before he disappeared, Tony looked behind him one more time and winked at Peter. Probably to relieve the tension. Not long after Tony went to the back, Peter was startled by the doorbell. He looked up and quickly collected himself before greeting the customer, wiping the remainder of his dried tears away. “Good afternoon, Sir, how can I help you?” Peter barely managed to put up his customer smile. The man was a bit scruffy looking, dark haired and he had a slight beard. There was a strange look in his eye. Peter wanted to walk around the counter to his usual spot to take the order, but the man stopped him. “Hold it there.” Peter paused his trek and turned back to the man with a questioning look. The man suddenly bolted for him, but Peter realized too late he was holding something in his hand. Peter tried to yell but before any sound could leave his mouth, it was covered by a damp cloth. His eyes went wide as he stared straight into the other man’s. He had no choice but to inhale the strange and intense, sweet scent of whatever was in that piece of fabric. The man didn’t smile, nor did he look angry. He seemed rather indifferent. The man’s other arm wrapped around Peter’s body, right before he lost the strength in his muscles and dropped against the man’s chest. Peter’s mind suddenly felt over-stuffed with fuzz and it was only a few seconds before his muffled scream died out and his eyes rolled back. Right when Peter lost himself, the man spoke softly, with a mocking tone, before carrying him out of the coffee shop. “Night night.” … Peter’s head felt like it was going to burst. He could barely open his eyes, but the hand that pulled him back at his hair in the uncomfortable chair forced him to wake up. He gasped for air, squinting his eyes into slits in the bright light. “Wakey, wakey.” A dark voice echoed through the room, ringing Peter’s ears. He finally managed to open his eyes when the light was blocked by a shape. A person. “Eh…” A soft whine escaped Peter’s lips, but the sound wasn’t taken kindly. The person- man- yanked at his hair, causing Peter to wince in pain. The man was bald, but had a thick beard. A scowl pulled the strangers bushy eyebrows together and Peter’s entire body tensed when he spotted the gun in the man’s other hand. “So…” The man leaned in and cocked his head. “All this trouble for a twink.” Peter tightened his jaw even further and kept his lips glued together. The man quite forcefully let go of Peter’s hair, allowing Peter to take in his surroundings. They were in a plain room, nothing too interesting. Peter could hear seagulls outside. They were probably close to water? The door was guarded by two imposing looking men, one of them Peter recognized as the guy who took him out. In the darkness of the room, a camera seemed to be recording them, judging by the red light flickering in the corner. “Barista,” Peter mumbled, staring at the gun in the guards’ hands.. “Excuse me?” The man pushed into Peter’s space again, seemingly offended. Peter held his breath, but replied anyways, eyes locking with the bald man’s. “I’m just a barista.” “Just a-“ the man interrupted himself, put his hands on his hips and leaned back, letting out an over the top laugh. When he finally calmed himself again, he bolted forward, pressing the gun against Peter’s neck. The young man instinctively tilted his head up, eyes wide at the unexpected aggression. “You,” the man spit out accusingly. “Tony seems to think more of you.” “He doesn’t,” Peter bluffed, silently swearing at himself for his reckless bravery. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in through his nose. “I just make his coffee. Black. Every Tuesday.” “Right,” the man scoffed and revealed Peter’s unlocked phone from his inner pocket. “And does just making his coffee include a happy ending?” “N-no-, it’s-“ “Nighttime sexting? Then?” The man sauntered around Peter, casually scrolling through Tony’s and Peter’s chat. “Was hoping to find some intel, but all I got was your disgusting conversations.” Peter swallowed hard. He angled his head to look down so that he wouldn’t have to meet the man’s judging eyes. “I’m not gonna lie,” the man sighed. “Those voice messages? Your moans? They’d rile up anyone.” Peter gently tugged at his restraints, pressing his eyes shut. To say he was afraid of what the man could and might do to him was an understatement. The thought alone paralyzed him. There was a pressing ache in his chest and a growing need to get out of there. If only he could move. “What do you want from me,” Peter managed to push out. The man chuckled darkly. “I want at least 75% of what Stark has.” The man stopped circling Peter to gently push the tip of his gun through the young man’s hair- toying with it. “And you’re going to make sure he gives it to me.” “As if,” Peter replied simply, immediately swallowing his confidence. It now weighs heavy in his stomach. One short glance at the guards made them leave the room. They shut the door behind them and Peter couldn’t help but hold his breath. “Tell the camera-“ The man gestured at the red flashing dot. “-Tell Tony- what to do. If he doesn’t give me what I want, I will take what he wants most.” Peter looked up at the man confused, but the man’s smirk made the student’s legs burst with adrenaline. He wanted to run away, but he couldn’t. He’s bound. The man’s eyes sparkled and turned to slits. The wide toothy grin plastered on his face had Peter’s heart drop. “You.” “Oh, don’t worry about that ol’ camera.” A familiar voice said from the door opening. Peter and the man turned their heads towards it surprised. There, Tony lazily stood against the door post, the two men that Peter had met one Tuesday accompanying him. The guards that were there before were now laying on the floor. Peter quietly hoped they were nothing more than unconscious. “You can ask me, right here, right now, Stane.” Tony absentmindedly studied the pistol in his hand, turning and twisting it. Loading it. “Tsk. Answer’s gonna be no, though.” He moved to stand up straight, confidence oozing off every inch of him. “I’m here to take back what’s mine.” A shiver ran down Peter’s spine and he gulped when the gun that was still aimed at him pushed under his jaw. He dropped his head backwards in an attempt to get away from it and whined quietly. Peter’s breath quivered and he squeezed his eyes shut again. “If you want your boy to live, you’re gonna do exactly what I want.” “Hmm.” Tony grinned. “If you put a bullet in his head, I’m not even gonna use my gun.” He squared up, tightening every muscle in his body. The look in his eye was dark and resolute. “Will let you pick how you go, though. Could snap your neck- stick a knife through your brain. Wiggle it around a little to make your corpse spasm. Heck, I’ll rearrange your guts first if you want me to. Bet that’ll feel real nice.” Peter could barely believe the words falling from the man’s lips were Tony’s. Apparently, neither could the guy Tony called Stane. “You’re all talk, Stark. Never seen you hurt a damn fly, that’s what you got your goons for,” Stane sneered accusingly. “First time for everything,” Tony replied collected. Stane then pulled loose the ropes around Peter’s body and pulled him up, forcing him to stand with his back flush against the man’s chest. Stane wouldn’t allow him to stand comfortably, keeping him up on his toes as the nuzzle of the gun pressed up under his chin. As free as the lack of ropes made Peter feel, the presence of the gun annihilated any feeling of liberty. “Obadiah, I swear to mother Maria, if you so much as leave a scratch on Peter, you will regret it.” Stane didn’t seem fazed by Tony’s threats. He had the upper hand after all. He had Peter. “We’re leaving now. Don’t think I won’t shoot. I will.” Peter complied the nudge in his back, taking small steps in the direction of the door. Obadiah moved the gun until it rested against Peter’s temple. “Step into the room.” Tony’s jaw tightened, but after a few seconds he cast his eyes downward, entering the space. His bluffing hadn’t worked and the soft shaking of his clenched fist betrayed his frustration. He genuinely seemed afraid to lose Peter. In return, Peter was afraid to lose him. The two men Tony had brought with him, joined him silently. When they were all far away enough from the door, Obadiah shuffled Peter to the opening. They reached the hallway and Stane forced Peter to step over the – hopefully – unconscious guards. All Peter could think was ‘No-no-no-no-‘ at the mere idea of being taken to another location. One Tony might not be able to find him at. One he might actually die at. Peter took a deep breath and decided to do something reckless. He could only die once anyways. The second Obadiah pulled the gun back a little to give Peter more walking space, the barista ducked away from the gun, pivoted on his feet and pushed Stane back into the wall with all the force he had. There was a gunshot. One that had Peter’s eyes go wide. With the lack of pain or blood, Peter realized Stane had missed. Adrenaline pumped through his body at an incredibly rapid pace. Peter fell backwards on his ass and saw Obadiah’s gun that had been dropped in the process. The student scrambled to grab it in a reflex. He pushed himself back against the wall, knees up, eyes unblinking and wide, as he aimed the gun two-handedly at Stane who laid there with his hands up. The feral look in Peter’s eye told the small gang leader enough. No matter how scared, this kid would shoot if he had to. Peter couldn’t blink. He just couldn’t. He barely heard the footsteps next to him. Barely felt a hand rest on his shoulder, as another lifted to be placed on Peter’s shaking hands, holding the gun. All Peter could do was stare at Obadiah, stinging tears nearly obstructing his view. His breathing was quick and erratic and he didn’t realize how much he was vibrating until Tony’s voice pushed through the veil, clouding his mind. “I need you to let go of the gun for me.” Peter only clutched the weapon tighter, his finger twitched on the trigger. His breathing was loud and fast, making his entire body buzz with tension. “Boss, he’s in shock, he won’t-“ “Peter,” Tony said a little softer. “I’m right here, Frappuccino, look at me.” The hand that was on his shoulder before, now cupped Peter’s chin, gently forcing him to turn his head. Peter’s eyes didn’t leave Obadiah, though. He held his breath, hearing his heartbeat thump in his brain. “Peter…” For the first time in what felt like forever, Peter blinked, which caused the tears that had been threatening to spill up until now to glide down his cheeks. He found himself staring at Tony’s face as his body slowly lost tension. The man’s brows were furrowed, but his expression was soft. He carefully took the gun out of Peter’s hands and pulled him in for an embrace. Peter hid his face against the man’s chest and couldn’t help but sob into it, adding another stain to Tony’s expensive suit. “Oh, Peter.” Tony’s voice was muffled against Peter’s hair. “You’re okay, we’re okay.” Just like he did earlier that day in the coffee shop, his fingers tangled in Peter’s hair and started massaging his scalp. “You’re with me now, ‘s all good.” Another time, Peter would’ve been embarrassed for being pulled into Tony’s lap in front of all these strangers, but right now he couldn’t care less. His arms wrapped tightly around Tony’s torso as the man left his dragged out, flat kisses on Peter’s head. “M-sorry,” Peter mumbled between sobs, curling up into Tony’s embrace and tugging in his legs. “Sorry-“ “Ssh, ssh- you have nothing to be sorry for, my sweet.” They stayed like that for a short while, Tony rocking Peter back and forth until his heartbeat settled and his muscles relaxed. Eventually, Tony stood up, carrying Peter bridal style. “Let me take you home.” … Peter woke up among the softest of silk sheets, surrounded by an abundance of throw pillows, wearing nothing but his underwear and an oversized white T-shirt with a V-neck. Everything smelled like Tony. Peter groaned at the stiffness of his muscles and turned around, half surprised by Tony sitting on an armchair next to the large canopy bed. “Morning, sunshine,” he said with a smile. Tony was wearing sweats and a similar T-shirt. The corners of Peter’s mouth curled up too and he instinctively folded into himself, pulling the sheets up to his chin. “Morning.” “How are you feeling?” Tony leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Little stiff,” Peter answered honestly. As if on cue, his stomach growled. “And hungry.” “My cook’s making us breakfast as we speak. Should be here soon.” “I knew you were rich, but a personal chef?” Peter chuckled. “Isn’t that a bit overkill?” “Look, kid,” Tony laughed, sitting up straight again. “I don’t have time to make my own meals. I’m a busy man.” “Busy enough to visit me every Tuesday at two,” Peter teased, the sparkle in his eyes evident. Tony seemed relieved Peter was acting like his usual self. “Hey, hey,” he said, shaking his head. “I scheduled in that time. I always wanted you to have my undivided attention. That was my me-time.” Peter’s smile faltered. “Was,” he parroted quietly. There was no way he could go back to his barista job. To mister McDougall. Not that he particularly wanted to work for that man anymore, but it felt like this pleasant chapter of this life ended with a terrible cliffhanger. Now, Peter was at the start of the next chapter, going through the repercussions of what happened before. “Pete, I-“ “Where are we?” Tony seemed taken aback by the interruption, but collected himself swiftly. “Home,” Tony replied matter of fact. “My home, to be precise.” He cleared his throat and looked away uncharacteristically shyly. “Could be yours too if you want.” Peter didn’t reply straight away, which caused Tony to stand up and raise his hands in a defensive manner. “But we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves.” There was a knock on the door and Tony cocked an eyebrow at it. “Breakfast,” a muffled voice spoke. “Come in.” A man with a giant tray opened the door. He walked in quickly and placed it on the table next to Tony. “Take the rest of the day off. Paid leave. Tell the others the same, save for the guards outside. I want this house empty within an hour.” The cook nodded and thanked Tony for his generosity. Not long after, Peter and Tony were alone again. Peter stared at the over-filled tray and licked his lips. “Anything that tickles your fancy?” Tony’s words are accompanied with a smirk. “A coffee sounds good right about now.” Tony immediately perked up and turned to grab the carefully made Frappuccino, but before he could curl his fingers around the cup, Peter continued: “Actually-“ Tony looks at Peter surprised. Peter grins and nods at the other cup on the tray. “After everything that happened, I could go for something stronger.” “Peter Parker, are you taking my black coffee from me?” Tony chuckled. Peter pulled himself up so he sat up straight among the throw pillows. He then reached forward with both arms, making grabby hands at Tony. “Mayyybe,” he teased. Tony laughed as he complied, handing Peter the black coffee. Peter gratefully took a sip and pulled a face at the bitterness burning his throat. “Sure you don’t want the sugar, sugar?” Peter snorted and nearly spilled the coffee on the bed. He looked into the deep black of the cup in his hands and then up at Tony. “Fine,” Peter said with a grin, offering Tony the black coffee. Peter waited for the older man to give him the Frappuccino, but instead, Tony stood up. “Here,” he said, lifting the tray and placing it on the bedside table. “Mind if I join you?” Peter didn’t answer, he just lifted the sheets. Gratefully, Tony slid in, placing himself flush against Peter and handing him the Frappuccino. For a short while, they just sipped their coffees, not exchanging any words. Peter occasionally glanced at the food on the bedside table, unable to choose where he’d even start. He let go of his thoughts for a little bit, letting his mind wander to yesterday. To Obadiah Stane, to the rope burn on his wrists, the feel of the gun against his head, in his hand, the trigger under his finger. Tony. Tony was there to save him. “I’m here to take back what’s mine.” Peter was his. And while his rational brain was scared of this mob boss side of Tony that he only just learned about, there was something exhilarating about it too. Tony was still Tony- still the same man Peter made all these black coffees for, the man he had late night conversations with via text. Peter thought back to before he lost himself to sleep, how he was being cradled by Tony, sitting in his lap. The memory made him feel warm, somehow. Peter swallowed and took a breath. “I felt safe,” Peter whispered. “Hm?” Tony turned his head slightly and put down his now empty cup on the nightstand. “Yesterday.” Peter’s brows furrowed as he kept staring ahead. “In your lap.” He paused, trying to put his thoughts in a row and say something a bit more sophisticated. However, he couldn’t think of the right words, so he just repeated himself. “I felt safe.” It was quiet for a second. “Do…” Tony sniffed once and tugged at the tray on Peter’s side of the bed. “Do you want to sit on my lap now?” Peter’s mouth went dry, even though he just finished his coffee. The tension between them hung thick in the air. He looked at Tony wide-eyed, but quickly averted his gaze again. “Yes,” he mumbled, nothing more than a whisper. “What was that?” “Yes… Please?” “Good boy.” Peter shivered and closed his eyes, but only until he felt Tony gently pulling at his arm. He didn’t struggle as Tony guided him to sit on his thighs, back pressed against the older man’s chest. “Oh, Bambino,” Tony cooed as Peter’s ass pressed against Tony’s already hardening shaft. “Been through so much. Let me help you.” Peter wanted to ask what Tony meant, but the man had already taken the mug from Peter’s hands, placed it on the bedside table and grabbed a blueberry muffin from the breakfast tray. “Hold this,” he ordered, giving the muffin to Peter. Their hands grazed past each other, eliciting a small gasp from the younger man. Tony immediately moved to rip a small piece off of it and brought it up to Peter’s lips. Peter stared entranced at Tony’s rough hand. “Go on, my sweet,” Tony whispered into Peter’s hair. “Eat up.” Peter leaned in and opened his mouth. He carefully maneuvered himself in an attempt not to touch Tony’s fingers, not wanting to be weird or gross, but Tony had other plans. He pushed in his fingers to help the piece into Peter’s mouth and then brushed his fingers over Peter’s lips. Peter didn’t realize his eyes were closed, but there wasn’t much to see anyways- save for the lusciously decorated room. Peter was more occupied with feeling right now. And boy, did Tony’s lips on his neck feel absolutely perfect. He chewed slowly, savoring the sweet taste on his tongue. Tony’s free arm was possessively curled around Peter to caress his neck from the front, grazing past his Adam’s apple and gently squeezing right under his jaw until he swallowed. Tony presented Peter with another bite, but this time he really pushed his fingers in. Peter wrapped his lips around the digits and sucked, moaning softly. “That’s it…” Peter absentmindedly spread his legs on Tony’s lap, arching his back to grind into Tony’s groin. Tony’s other hand found its way down Peter’s body until it cupped Peter’s balls through his underwear. Peter immediately pushed into it and gasped at the gentle rubbing of Tony’s thumb. “Thaaat’s it…” Tony took his fingers out of Peter’s mouth, a small string of saliva dripping down, to take the muffin out of Peter’s hands, put it on the tray and then stick his fingers into the small bowl of jam. His other hand fondles Peter at a steady rhythm and Peter rolls his hips along with it. “Feeling good for Daddy, Peter?” The young man smiles lazily and nods, letting his head fall back against Tony’s shoulder. “Y-yes,” Peter whimpered. “Feels so good.” An overly sweet scent filled Peter’s nostrils. He opened his eyes to see Tony’s jam covered fingers. He stared at them transfixed, mouth already opening, tongue hanging out, ready to take it all. “Atta boy,” Tony whispered, suckling on Peter’s skin. “Don’t hold back. It’s all yours…” Peter didn’t hesitate and grabbed Tony’s hand with both of his own, pulling it toward him to lick the sweet strawberry jam off of Tony’s fingers. The fingers of one hand were curled around just the thumb, while the other gripped onto the man’s palm. “Don’t hold back,” Tony repeated with a squeeze of his hand around Peter’s clothed cock. The young man immediately moaned louder, pressing himself against Tony harder and licking the man’s fingers clean in a near-obscene manner. “Aren’t you a good boy?” Tony growled as he slowly started to push up against Peter’s ass. Peter groaned and clenched around nothing, working his way down Tony’s hand and suckling at the golden ring on his index finger. “Yours,” Peter gasped between licks. “Your good boy-“ Apparently those were the right words, because Tony let out a guttural moan and within seconds, they were flipped over with Peter lying on his back on the bed and Tony possessively hovering over him, caging Peter with his arms. Peter was met with Tony’s dark pools and twitching nose. There was something animalistic about the otherwise so collected man Peter had served coffee to. It had Peter’s cock throb with anticipation. Tony’s wet fingers pushed under Peter’s shirt to tweak and tug at one of his nipples. “Mine,” Tony pushed out, immediately moving in to ravage Peter’s lips himself, tasting the flavors Peter had only just taken in. Peter, in turn, could taste the bitter coffee. “My sweet.” Peter pulled at Tony’s shirt, quietly telling Tony he wanted them to get naked. The man seemed to understand and within a minute all clothes were discarded. Tony’s cock stood tall and proud and had a girth that had Peter drooling. He wanted it in his mouth. ASAP. “Eager, eager,” Tony chuckled darkly as he saw Peter’s eyes locked on the swaying dick in front of him. Peter’s gaze broke free and he gave Tony a pleading look. “Next time, my sweet.” Tony leaned in to give Peter a short, passionate kiss while his hands squeezed nearly half a lube bottle all over Peter’s groin, slicking him up as Tony massaged every inch of skin. Peter immediately granted Tony access into his mouth and Tony eagerly licked the insides. He pulled back again and grinned. “You first.” Tony’s free hand grabbed hold of Peter’s cock, squeezing it until Peter saw stars. His hips bucked up into Tony’s touch while his hands grabbed at the sheets in an attempt to ground himself as Tony’s hands pleasured him. He moaned with every loudly-squishing jerk of Tony’s hand, but it wasn’t going fast enough. “More-more-more, please, Daddy-“ Tony seemed pleased with the begging, because the hand at Peter’s nipple slowly travelled down his toned body, grabbing and coating itself with the excess lube. “Sure you want more?” Tony had a wicked grin on his face. “Cause I can give you everything.” He curled his tongue up to lick his own teeth. “If you think you can handle it.” “Yes,” Peter gasped, arching his back more, pressing his head into the throw pillows. “Please, please, want everything, want it all, want you-“ “Good answer.” Tony’s praise goes paired with him mercilessly pushing his index finger into Peter’s tight hole. The young man gasped at the sudden sting, but his expression turned to absolute bliss in an instant. He clenched and unclenched around Tony’s digit and soon enough, Tony started pulling out and pushing back in, curling his finger in the process, in search of Peter’s… Sweet spot. “God, yes, T-Tony, Daddy-“ Peter moaned as his body rocked under Tony’s attention. “Mr. Stark-!” Tony’s eyes went wide, revealing a previously unseen aggression behind them. His movements became more forceful and he lowered his face until it was right in front of Peter’s. “Yes, boy, call me that again. Do it.” “M-Mi-“ Peter squeezed his eyes shut, completely overwhelmed by all the sensations and the tightening knot in his abdomen. His balls were tight and his heartbeat throbbed everywhere. “Whose cock is this, Peter, tell me who it belongs to-“ Tony let his thumb glide over the tip of Peter’s cock as he quickened his pace and the intensity of his jerks. “Yours- Mr. Stark, it’s y-yours!” Peter’s reply was rewarded with Tony’s mouth sucking marks on Peter’s neck. “And this hole? Huh? Who does this belong to?” Right when Tony uttered the words, he found what he’d been looking for. Peter opened his mouth wide in a silent scream as his body convulsed. “Yes, yes, yours, yours-“ Tony attacked Peter’s prostate without remorse, not halting any movement. He was good at this and he owned it. He owned Peter. “And your mouth? Your chest and your arms and your legs and your neck-“ Tony cut his own rambles short by biting into the skin right below Peter’s jaw, eliciting another loud moan from him. “Mr. Stark’s, his- his, yours!” “That’s it, good boy, it’s all mine. You’re all mine!” “F-fuck, I’m gonna come, Mr. Stark- Please, please-“ Peter’s gasps were erratic. The complete polar opposite of Tony’s near robotic movements. Along the way, he had added two more fingers into Peter’s sopping hole and he kept pumping mercilessly, curling his fingers at just the right moment. The young man was practically folded in two on the bed, taking everything Tony was giving him. He’d never felt this good in his entire life and he basked in the hot sheen covering his body. All his fantasies, all their sexts, were now reality. Tony stayed true to his word. Everything he had promised Peter, he was now giving- almost forcing- upon the young man and he loved it. They both did. “So close, my sweet, stay on that edge for me, don’t tip over just yet-“ Tony growled. “Make...” The young man found himself humping into Tony’s fist, moaning at the trademarked line that had started falling from the mob boss’s lips. “It…“ Peter whined as his body shook, trying to hold onto the last bit of sanity that he had left before he would lose it all and spill. “Last…“ Every part of Peter’s being writhed and convulsed at the scorching pleasure pumping through him. He had to make it last. He had to wait. Had to drag it out. Felt so good. Too good. Yes, yes- yes! “That’s it… Just a little longer,” Tony encouraged. Peter’s eyes rolled back and to his dismay, Tony sped up even more. “Haaa-,” Every muscle in Peter’s body shook with tension, ready for that blissful release. “Yeees, good boy, such a good boy, hold on…” Tony’s breath was hot on Peter’s lips. His deep voice vibrated through Peter’s body, sending even more surges of arousal through him. “Open your eyes. Look at me.” Peter’s jaw was locked as his eyes fluttered open. He stared straight into Tony’s and the sight had his toes curl. “Come.” Peter’s vision went white at the intense eruption bursting from him. If he screamed, he didn’t hear himself. All he could do was experience it. White streaks covered his abdomen and Tony’s hand and the overstimulating sensation of his orgasm seemed to last forever. After who-knows-how-long, Peter came down from his high, panting and twitching on the mattress, body completely limp. Tony was lying next to him, whispering sweet praise into his ear and slowly bringing Peter back to reality with his calming voice and caressing hands. Peter blinked a few times, his vision sharpening again until Tony was completely in focus. The man smiled. “Good morning, sunshine,” he repeated himself. Peter chuckled and cuddled up against Tony’s chest. Tony immediately embraced him, tangling their legs together. “Morning,” Peter laughed softly. It was quiet for a minute while Peter cleared his mind, basking in the afterglow of what was the most intense orgasm he’s ever experienced. “Thank you,” he whispered against Tony’s body. The man kissed the top of Peter’s head, humming softly. “No, my sweet, thank you.” After another hour of cuddling together Peter shuffled back so he could look Tony in the eye. “We should probably get out, don’t we?” Tony smiled kindly, pressing his fingers through Peter’s curls. “Work can wait.” “I wasn’t talking about work…” There was a playful sparkle in Peter’s eyes. “I want to explore this place.” “Can’t we cuddle a little longer?” “I’ll stay naked,” Peter teased. “We’re alone anyways… And I’ll make you coffee?” “Are you trying to bribe me with coffee that requires pressing one button?” Tony teased right back. Peter moved to sit up straight and tossed the sheets on top of Tony. He jumped out of bed, his cock already hardening again and bouncing with every movement. Tony grinned and seemed to be enjoying this newfound confidence Peter had. “I don’t know, Mr. Stark, am I?” Peter sauntered towards the door and opened it swiftly, arching his back and showing off his toned body as he walked through. Tony’s cock, that had started softening up after not getting any attention last round, sprung back to life at the sight. “Could make the coffee last, but… I’m sure there are other rooms in this place where I could make it last?” Tony laughed positively wicked and crawled over the bed towards Peter. The young man squealed delighted and ran out into the hallway. Tony stepped out of the bed and started chasing his good boy through the mansion.

[finitepeace]

fics i read this week:

 I read some bucky x natasha fics: 

Head Is Not My Home by taralkariel

Summary: The Black Widow is a legend. Legends aren't made cheap.

Shaken by the events of Civil War, Natasha Romanoff goes back to familiar ground to hide. To hide and remember how she became the Black Widow. How Natalia Romanova would do anything to save her father-figure. How she was one of 28 ballerinas with the Bolshoi - no, one of 28 Black Widow agents with the Red Room. How the only thing that made her feel human was a man with a metal arm.

(A story to show what really happened in the comics Red Room and how it could fit into the MCU)

19k words in 12 chapters, not rated (maybe T&up?), bucky nat up to IW, i think.  it’s not very dark themed <3,

tell me baby, do you recognize me? by xocean

Summary: "You're a liar." Natasha is shaking. "You're a heartless, lonely, lying murderer."

He doesn't even blink. "We both are."

The Winter Soldier's game is up, and Steve's not letting him go this time. Enter the only person who doesn't want a part in this shitfest: Natasha Romanov.

Or, as James Buchanan Barnes remembers her: Natalia Romanova.

63k words in 10 chapters (from 11), angst.

 and an IronDad x SpiderSon fic: 

This B.S. Better Be Worth It by losingmymindtonight 💙

Summary: Originally, Tony's plan had been to just surprise Peter with the fact that he would be on campus for a semester.

He’d never actually expected Peter to sign up for his class.

7k words in 4 chapters, tony acting like a dad (and awesome professor)

 as usual, the rest are Stony fics:  

American Dream by NobodysBloodyPrincess

Summary: Tony is trying, but try as he might he just can’t find the silver lining of this particular disaster.

After all, what happiness could possibly be derived from the knowledge that the perfect little girl in his arms is now motherless? What relief could be drawn, when his boyfriend of ten years, the love of his life really, is probably, currently, right at this moment in the arms of ‘Peggy’ his new fiancé?

13k words, no powers au, tony-centric, stevetony has broken up and tony adopts a kid, steve is depicted a bit insensitive (idk what the word, like unable to read the room?) here. 

Where Our Restless Monsters Sleep by Mizzy 💙

Summary: Years after Tony Stark saved the universe, the Avengers realize there’s a major problem: his body has gone missing. And he isn’t the only one. Fallen heroes all over the galaxy have had their graves pillaged.

An old foe is stealing the bodies of fallen warriors, but for what nefarious reason? There’s only one solution. To find out why it’s happening, Steve’s gotta die.

He probably shouldn’t be so eager to do that.

233k words in 12 chapters, post endgame resurrections (?), gladiator trope, lots of action scenes, and THERE’S MORGAN x STEVE INTERACTIONS!!!!! 

The Culling of the Stars by dirigibleplumbing

Summary: Tony dies saving Steve's life on the courthouse steps. Now Steve is left with the fallout of their Civil War, expected to take charge and preserve Tony's legacy. He doesn't know how he can do it alone—not when he can't stop thinking about Tony, or keep track of the days, or even feel.

9k words, comic book’s civil war not MCU’s, angst but gnidne yppah 

Together, Always by Sapphic_Futurist 💙

Summary: He swallows hard, a prickle of tears in his eyes because this is his husband.

This is Tony Stark and Steve’s husband, and Steve gets to have this. He gets to have this for the rest of his goddamn life.

30k words in 3 chapters, embodiment of stony’s “together” T_T, read the tags if you want to be spoiled lol if not then enjoy! (and I don’t regret not reading the tags tbh) 

And I'd Buy A Big House Where We Both Could Live by shinkonokokoro

Summary: Missing: Tony Stark, billionaire businessman, heir to Stark Industries, reward: none

Only Steve didn't know that when he picked up the waterlogged unconscious man from the bank of a river.

59k words in 29 chapters, non-power au, kid clint and peter as steve’s brothers

i stole the keys to this guy by kellifer_fic

Summary: Where it was Nick Fury's idea, but he didn't mean it like that

6k words, fake dating into real dating 

Home Is Where the Time Machine Is by Wordsplat 💙

Summary:Steve and Tony's daughter accidentally falls back in time, and learns that impossible time travel phone calls can and will be made just to ground you, big brothers are awful snitches, and parents used to date other people. The past blows.

23k words in 5 chapters, domestic, stony being married 

don't know why it took me so long to see by goodmorningbeloved (3799steps)

Summary: “Oh, watch this,” Natasha says, propping her chin against her knuckles and turning a sweet gaze on him. “Tony, what’s it like dating a superhero?”

Tony bristles in irritation. “We’re not dating,” he snaps. “Captain America probably thinks he can get into anyone’s pants just ‘cause he’s got a mask, costume, and reputation, but not me, buddy. That shield? Gotta be overcompensating for something.” He adds, a bit petulantly, “Oh, and all that blue? Definitely more Steve’s color than his.”

- In which Tony is a genius in all matters except recognizing his boyfriend past a mask.

11k words, tony being peacefully oblivious while the whole world isn’t. 

I Started a Joke by Naferty

Summary "Tony?"

"Who the hell is Tony?"

102k words in 11 chapters, tony is the winter soldier 

Take Two  by Wordsplat 💙

Summary: Steve loses his memory but he gets the feeling he's lost a lot more. Who exactly is Tony Stark to him and why won't he come out of the basement?

24k words, i just love it. 

Sunrise Over the End of the World by Sapphic_Futurist

Summary: When Dr. Strange arrives at an Accords Committee Meeting and warns of the coming of an alien megalomaniac set on destroying the world, the Rogues are pardoned and Tony finds himself exactly where he never wanted to be. Back at the Compound with Steve, who still can't take a hint and won't leave him alone.

--

In which Tony is broken and Steve finds redemption.

35k in 11 chapters, explicit, civil war fix-it up to infinity war 

Far Away And Long Ago by Ragdoll (Keshka) 💙

Summary: Steve steps into the past and discovers that hope held on a pedestal is as insubstantial as smoke. Then he sees Tony. And that's when things get complicated.

Full summary contained within.

18k in 4 chapters, mature, seems like abandoned WIP :( endgame fix-it au when steve returns the stones... 

Something More Than What They Are series by  Sapphic_Futurist

An exploration of love, denial and propensity for change.

38k in 4 works, explicit, Steve and Tony are married during the civil war madness but seems like their love is not enough to stop it from happening or reconciling T_T 

the marks you choose to leave behind by masterlokisev159

Summary: The Stane faction has been around for many years, long before Tony was bitten. And since he was forced, his life has been nothing short of misery and pain; a prison he will never escape. As a low member of the faction, his only hope at survival is to remain a loyal pet to Ezekiel. So when Ezekiel mentions the growing threat of the Avengers of the Undead, and the dreaded Captain, Tony is adamant to step up and do what he can. It’s also his last chance to see the outside world before he’s bonded to Whitney forever.

But what he finds instead is an unlikely companion with golden eyes. A strange werewolf by the name of Steve.

35k, general, vampire tony/werewolf steve, based on earth-666 

La La Love by Wordsplat

Summary: "To be perfectly clear, Tony always knew that Stephanie Rogers was the best thing that would ever happen to him."

4k words, teen up and audiences, female Steve, highschool au, awkward tony

Meet Your Heroes by Wordsplat

Summary:Tony gets rescued by a highly concerned, very handsy Captain America. This is confusing for a number of reasons.

4k words, identity porn AU, 

Hashtag Finally by Wordsplat 💙

Summary: Tony doesn't ever actually ask the Avengers to move into his house, steal his wifi, eat all his food, and become the best family he's ever known. They do it anyway.

15k, teen&up, domestic avengers a.k.a. tower life, hyperactive Clint lol, super cute, everyone are stony supporters

Thanks For the Memories by Wordsplat

Summary: When Tony is sent crashing-all too literally-into the 1940's by an alternate-universe Loki's spell, neither Tony nor Steve are prepared for the consequences.

9k words, time travel au, secret pining 

[myarmsaretoolong]

December 2020 Fic Recs!

first off i hope you’ll join me in wishing a not so fond farewell to 2020 and a cautious howdy to 2021. and now for the recs! (all links go to ao3 :D)

right now i’m still reading If They Knew All About You by @mshermia​ and it’s still awesome! i’m just an embarrassingly slow reader

The Night Before Christmas by @sdottkrames​

Summary

Tony had not signed up for this.

He hadn’t meant to kill the guy in the Santa suit. He’d gotten startled, he’d yelled, then the other guy got startled and slipped and then just disappeared.

Now he was wearing the guy’s suit, driving the guy’s sleigh (driven by actual freaking reindeer), with his 8-year-old son in the passenger seat, delivering Christmas presents like he really was Santa.

He really needed to to learn how to say no to Peter’s puppy dog eyes.

(Or the Irondad Santa Claus AU nobody asked for that I’m giving anyway)

Review

yall this is awesome! it’s so fluffy and cute and has some amazing irondad bonding going on. believe me when i say i laughed when i read the part about gerald, it’s gold XD

Secret Sugarplum Spiderling by @yes-i-am-happyaspie​

Summary

Peter has been taking ballet for nearly as long as he can remember and all of his hard work has finally paid off. He's been cast as the Cavelier to the Sugarplum Fairy in his Performing Arts School's production of The Nutcracker. It's a big deal and it's going to take up a good bit of time but... he's just not sure he's ready for his mentor to know about that particular hobby just yet.

🎄🩰❄️He's sure it'll be fine ... ❄️🩰🎄

All he has to do is show up at the studio on time, keep his grades up, make sure to see Tony on a regular enough basis that he doesn't worry and try to squeeze in some patrolling in between. It's that simple. Right?

Review

pete’s a ballet dancer and if you’re not already sold than i don’t know what will. again, the fluff and irondad bonding is so cute plus may there too which is always a huge bonus! the last chapter especially is pure fluff and i love it so so much!

The Subjectiveness of Protectiveness also by @yes-i-am-happyaspie​

Summary

When Peter is injured outside of his suit by a woman who has a grudge against Iron Man and has come to the conclusion that he's Tony Stark's son, he decides that his best course of action is to not tell anyone. He doesn't want May to worry but more than anything he doesn't want his mentor to feel guilty about it. Especially when the threat has already been taken care of and he has a healing factor. However, when things don't go as planned he ends up finding himself in a situation that leaves him with no choice but to reveal what he's been hiding. Tony is not impressed.

Review

while their other fic brings the fluff, this one brings the ANGST. it’s basically what is says on the tin, pete gets badly hurt and doesn’t want to bother anyone with it... until things go downhill. it’s a great read, super angsty, super fun, i highly reccommend!

A Christmas Carol by @i-am-irondad​

Summary

On Christmas Eve night, Tony is lost in his own head, still struggling to deal with Peter’s death.

A message is sent to him through his father, Howard Stark, and their ex-business partner, Obadiah Stane - they warn him that three spirits will visit him before sunrise.

The ghosts take Tony on a journey through the past, present, and future.

Review

yall it’s so gooood! i’m sure you’re all familiar with a christmas carol, and if not this is a great way to get to know it! it was so exciting to see who the ghosts turned out to be, and also to see what they showed tony. there were plenty of tears reading this, and just as many smiles! the ending is just awesome!

so that rounds out this month, if you check out any of these fics please be sure to leave a comment or kudos to let the authors know you’re enjoying their work! also spread this around to show the love! have a great new year yall!

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

Salt Water in My Veins - Ford’s Perspective

Someone commented on my AO3 about how they’d like to read Ford’s perspective on my earlier story, Salt Water in My Veins, and I got inspired! Let me know what you think :D

_______________________________________________________________________

Ford didn’t care.

He didn’t care.

His br- the person who had been kicked out had ruined his entire future. Of course Ford wouldn’t care about his wellbeing. It simply wasn’t logical for Ford to worry that Stan was out on the streets alone at night, or that he didn’t even have a jacket… the desperation in his eyes when Ford pulled the curtains closed…

No. It was illogical. And Ford prided himself on being logical. If he wasn’t a creature of reason and intellect, what was he?

He tried to sleep, shoving his pillow over his face to block out the sounds of Ma and Pa yelling downstairs. But try as he might, unconsciousness would not come to him. Ford blamed it on being accustomed to having another person in the room, sleeping nearby. It certainly had nothing to do with guilt and worry.

…Stanley didn’t even have his jacket.

Ford rolled over to glance blearily at the clock on his bedroom wall. It was nearly midnight. Downstairs was silent, so Ma and Pa must have gotten tired of their shouting and retired to bed, leaving the house empty. The only noise was the quiet ticking of the clock counting down to midnight.

The house had never been this quiet before.

Ford swung his legs over the edge of his bed with a sigh. Where did Stanley keep his jacket? A few errant beams of moonlight pieced through the gap in the curtains and spilled across his bedroom floor, lighting up slivers of the room as he searched. There, hanging on a stack of comic books. The watery light made Stan’s red jacket look pale and washed-out.

Ford grabbed it, rifling through his drawers to find his own coat. Oh damn it, he’d spilled gravy on it a few nights ago and Ma had taken it to be washed. His sweater would have to do.

Ford groaned and ran a hand through his hair. He was not considering this. He was not sneaking out in the middle of the night when Stanley was who-knew-where doing who-knew-what. The knucklehead had a car, he could have left Glass Shard Beach already.

Ford glanced back at his bed. Despite the promise of a restless night’s sleep it was warm.

He sighed and headed for the door.

 He had despaired over it earlier, but now Ford was moving he realized that there was really only one place Stanley would go. The place he felt safe; where they had whiled away hours and hours, hiding from bullies and their father’s bad moods and the ever-present expectations of school. So Ford pulled his sweater tighter around himself and hurried down to the beach.

It was a short walk. Ford could smell the salty breeze and hear the soft washing of waves before the shoreline came into view. He shivered at the icy breeze. Where was that idiot? Ford hugged Stan’s jacket to his chest as he scanned the beach, glasses fogging up from the heat of his skin. He cursed and took them off to wipe them on his sleeve.

Was that a red smudge? Ford fumbled to put his glasses on, a sigh of relief escaping him when he recognised Stan’s car parked by the sand. He headed towards it.

The lights were off. Stan was probably sleeping – in his car, on the freezing beach! He could get sick! And that wasn’t even considering the threat of thieves. Ugh, it was like he didn’t even care about his own safety!

Ford rapped on the passenger side window.

“Stan? Stan, you forgot your jacket.”

It was ominously quiet. Ford peered through the window, only to find the driver’s seat empty. And so was the back. The car was deserted, keys sitting on the dashboard.

The keys. Why on earth would Stanley leave the keys where anyone could take them? At night, all alone, next to the shoreline…

A chill prickled down Ford’s spine that had nothing to do with the cold. He whipped around to the ocean, heart in his throat. No, no, no, please no-

Yes, the universe whispered back, because there, up to his chest in the water and getting ever-deeper, was Stan.

The jacket slipped from Ford’s numb fingers. He was running before he could even think to, before he could feel the wind whipping his face and taste the salt on his lips. His foot caught in a shallow ditch and he stumbled, hands hitting the sand, scrambling back up in an instant.

“STANELY!” No no no this could not be happening, Ford was having a nightmare and any moment now he would wake up.

In the space between blinks Stanley had disappeared under the water. Where was he? Ford couldn’t see him, couldn’t distinguish his brother from the unyielding blackness of the ocean. He plunged into the shallows and the icy water sprayed against his skin.

“Stan! Where are you? Stan!”                  

There was no sign of him. He’d been there just a second ago, gone the next. Ford struck out frantically for where he’d last seen his brother. The cold burned. He hardly felt it.

Water up to his waist, his chest, sloshing around him. Ford sucked in a breath and dove down, squeezing his eyes shut against the salt. Icy water closed around his head, the world turning numb and muffled. He felt around desperately and found nothing. Nothing but water and sand and fragments of seaweed. His lungs were already burning.

No, no, no! Ford broke to the surface to grab a breath before diving down again. His clawing hands groped at water, seaweed – and then an arm.

He kicked for the surface but Stan was heavy, a dead weight. Ford barely managed to drag them both towards the shallows, until he could finally get his feet on solid ground and stand, head breaking the surface. Besides him Stan let out a hoarse gasp that turned into choking. Choking but alive. Stan would have sunk back under if Ford hadn’t grabbed him, clutching his brother close as he dragged him towards the shore. Water and fog clung to his glasses. His own ragged gasping filled his ears.

They staggered onto the sand and collapsed.

Stan hacked, wet coughs that sounded painful. Ford grabbed his brother’s shoulders as Stan hurled up seawater – god, how much did he swallow? He was choking like his lungs were drowning, like he would never breathe again. Ford rubbed his back desperately.

“Stan, it’s okay, you’re okay. Just breathe. Come on, you can do it.”

It seemed like an eternity before the fit passed – and then Stan slumped forward onto the sand. Ford’s ears roared.

“Stanley?”

Stan was terrifyingly still. Ford shook him frantically, voice shrill with panic.

“Stanley! Stanley! Don’t just lie there, say something goddammit!” There was no movement. His voice cracked because oh god, what if his brother was dying and – no, no, Ford wouldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t let that happen. “LEY!”

Stan groaned.

Ford collapsed inwards, choking on a sob of relief. “Thank god.”

Stan groaned again as Ford pulled him into his lap, cold and limp but with a pulse thudding under his skin. Alive. Ford ran his shaking hands through Stan’s wet hair to reassure himself that his brother was safe and alive and there in his arms.

“Don’t you ever do that to me ever again. Do you hear me? Never again.” His voice cracked again. “Oh my god. Oh my god Ley. I almost lost you.”

Almost lost his brother. Almost lost the boy with the wonky grin and the childish sense of humour and fierce protectiveness. The teen who doodled in both their textbooks and dreamed of sailing the world and liked to box and cook even though it wasn’t ‘manly’, who borrowed his girlfriend’s kitchen for a day to make Ford cupcakes when their father had deemed them too old for a birthday cake. And Ford had almost lost him.

He whimpered, rocking them back and forth in the sand. What was Stan thinking? He’d almost – he’d almost died because of a stupid mistake. They were both so stupid, they could talk, why hadn’t Ford been willing to talk? He’d been mad and he wasn’t thinking and now-

Stan clumsily reached up to pat Ford’s cheek, breaking him out of his thoughts. Ford shivered and hugged him tighter. Stan blinked, evidently trying to focus on his brother’s face.

“S’okay.” Stan slurred. Of course Stan would be trying to comfort him. Hysterical laughter bubbled out of Ford’s chest. “I’ll be outta yer hair, n’ pa w’ll be happy fer once. T’ll be like yer an only child-”

“I don’t want to be an only child! I need my brother!”

Ford hadn’t meant to shout, and he regretted it when Stan flinched with a whimper. He lowered his voice hurriedly, stroking Stan’s hair with frantic hands, touching his arms, his face, anything to prove that he was real and alive and safe. “No, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

“M’sorry I broke your project.” Stan mumbled into Ford’s sweater. Ford bit down another hysterical laugh.

“I know. I’m sorry too. I know you didn’t mean to break it, of course you didn’t. I was stupid.” Because really, how could Ford have ever thought that Stan would sabotage him on purpose? He was big and hot-tempered and used his fists before he used his brain, but he was Stanley. Stanley who was only ever proud of Ford for his achievements. Of course it had been an accident.

“I’m sorry.” Stan whispered again. “I… I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Ford.” Ford tried to shush him but Stan was picking up momentum, voice cracking and shaking. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’msorryI’msorry-”

“Stan, Stan it’s okay-”

Stan grabbed the front of Ford’s sweater and clung on for dear life, shaking with sobs. Stanley was weeping in a way Ford had never seen before. “I’m so sorry-”

“Shh, it’s okay.” Ford cut him off, pressing a fierce kiss to his brother’s hair. Fuck their father, fuck the science fair, fuck that stupid college. His brother was hurting. Ford hated himself for not seeing it before. Well, he wouldn’t be making that mistake again. “I forgive you. We’re – we’re gonna be okay, Stanley. I promise.”

Stan’s sobs quieted into hiccupping, but he was still shaking. Ford rubbed his arm soothingly – it was icy cold.

Oh, he really was an idiot! Stan had been in the water for longer than him, and out in the open for who-knew how long. The shivers wracked his body.

“We gotta get you warm.” Ford gasped out. “We need to get inside. Do you think you can walk? Home is only a few minutes away and-”

“No!” Stan snapped up to grab Ford’s wrist, eyes huge and wild. “I can’t go back,” he rasped, “Pa’ll kill me.”

Oh, right. The whole ‘being kicked out’ thing. Ford bit down yet another hysterical laugh. Come on Stanford, keep it together!

“Right, right. At least let me take you to your car. And get you some dry clothes. God, Ley, you’re freezing.”

He ran a quick mental calculation. If hypothermia hadn’t set in yet it would soon, and a quick heating risked stopping Stan’s heart altogether, so getting his brother into a hot shower was out of the question. The Stanleymobile was insulated well enough – but they were still soaking. Ford had to sneak inside and get some dry clothes for the both of them, as well as any heat packs lying around. Ma would forgive him for borrowing them. And soup was supposedly good for people who were ill but Ford was hopeless in the kitchen – besides, he couldn’t run the risk of waking Pa up. Maybe the diner nearby would still be open? Should he get it and bring it back to the car, or bring Stanley inside? Either way that would have to wait until Stanley’s body temperature had risen enough to be stable…

Then Ford realized that he’d been saying all this out loud. He shook his head to clear it and tightened his grip on his brother, who was currently flopped against Ford’s wet sweater. Ford couldn’t help but ramble as he stirred Stan into action.

“Come on, get up. We have to move. I’m not gonna carry you, knucklehead, I’m not that strong and you’re not that light. Here, give me your arm – good. Let’s go. One step at a time. Yeah, you’ve got it. Not that much further. Oh, there’s your jacket. You forgot it at home, Lee.”

Stan mumbled something, stumbling even under half of his own weight.

“Of course I came to give it to you. Don’t you remember? Wherever we go, we go together.”

[iron-niffler]

I was reading some interviews about Endgame just bc and

In Infinity War, Doctor Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) says there’s only one way to beat Thanos and Endgame reveals that way meant Tony’s death. Did you ever consider letting him live and having Captain America/Steve Rogers wield the gauntlet and die instead?

Markus: We considered ways to let Tony live and whether there was a story there. But (dying) was the last thing he needed to do to become a fully-realized hero. There was never a better story than that. As for Captain America, he was willing to kill himself twice in his first movie. So it didn’t seem like a particularly interesting thing to have him do.

I'm sorry WHAT did you say Markus?!?!

"dying was the last thing he needed to do to become a fully-realized hero"

So apparently

Tony Stark

has never been willing

to die to save people or even been established as a full hero

or at least he hasn't been willing enough to appease the screenwriters

who knew? certainly not anyone who watched the movies. why don't you two scriptwriters watch the entire MCU (including the movie that you wrote) then get back to me on this :)

Logically I understand why the writers wanted to kill him off (doesn't mean i like it) but they shouldn't erase all the things that he's done over the past 15 years (10 or so years actively superheroing) to try and play his death as the act that established him as a hero. he's been working to protect people at any cost for a decade now this isn't the first time he's done something that includes risking his life for others. His death may be his most heroic act but it was by no means his first.

Yes his death helped to show the end of an era, but do you know what could have shown the start of a new era? Tony deciding to hang up the armor for good now that the threat that had haunted him for years has been vanquished and helping out on the sidelines, never really appearing on screen or anything but definitely there as a support link offering advice and counsels to the new generation of heroes, even if they only show it through text messages or name drops.

Maybe they mean "fully realized" as having reached the height of his heroics (which doesn't really make sense but hey), but "fully realized" normally is used to describe something "complete or total" so apparently Tony wasn't a complete hero until he freaking died even though he demonstrated the willingness to die for others multiple times across the MCU, or this was just badly phrased. Tony is an imperfect person who he pushes past his flaws and tries to make up for his mistakes that's part of his character's appeal. He's not a hero because he's perfect, he's a hero because he's an imperfect human being who recognizes his flaws and pushes past them in order to grow as a person and help others.

Apparently Tony wasn't a "complete" hero so I guess that's why they saw it fit to give him an incomplete happy ending; five years of domestic living overshadowed by heavy losses before he finally got his whole family back together and then had to sacrifice himself to save everyone.

Also for some reason the Steve portion of the response just makes me angrier. Or rather they really went "no we can't kill Steve! he was ready to die TWICE in his first movie! People are probably bored of him sacrificing himself!" and then turn around and kill one of the characters who has been struggling for over a decade and is just trying his best who has nearly died like every other movie he's in in an effort to protect people. (Also I'm pretty sure Tony was willing to die multiple times in Iron Man or at least accepting of his potential fate such as refusing to make weapons for terrorists even under torture and presumably the threat of death, making his primary focus to get Stane away from civilians, even if it meant completely depleting his power supply which is keeping him alive running the numbers and accepting the risk of death due to either falling from an extremely high altitude or a painful death from the shrapnel and finally telling Pepper to hit the button to blow the reactor while he's still on the roof.)

"There never was a better story than that": sure maybe this was the best story in a "make you cry sad and emotional way" but there are SO MANY other avenues and messages that you could send by letting him live. Show the message of being able to work through and overcome trauma and personal issues and live a happy life. Give us the escapist reality most members of the fandom crave; seeing you fave struggle for years than be able to overcome the issues and be happy acting as a beacon of hope for the fans who relate to them. Give Tony the happy ending that he and the audience that stuck by his side for any amount of time be it several months or that grew up with Tony deserved. Just let him be happy please. He's gone through so much, just let him rest (and not in a way that includes him dying)

*I'm sure there's a different way to interpret this but that's how I'm reading it as so if you disagree please don't come yell at me*

also at one point in time they considered letting tony live

(sorry this just annoyed me and I had to vent so tumblr rant 😅)

[westiec]

fic I want to see: five futures Tony/Rhodey/Pepper deserved but never got

Hey there friend! I'm going to take advantage of the @goodintentionswipfest to finally answer this ask by posting what exists of the fic I totally never finished writing you for this prompt before I burned out real hard on writing last year. Hope you get a little bit of fun out of what's here. <3

1 - MIT meet, 100% less drama

Tony meets James-call-me-Rhodey Rhodes at MIT. In other universes, they were on campus at the same time, but the whiz kid playboy tearing up the mech-e department and local bar scene seldom crossed paths with the steady grad student getting a masters in aircraft design courtesy of the Air Force. 

In this one, they are inseparable. 

Rhodey's got a way of following his train of thought that Tony's never encountered, and his intuitive understanding of flying machines outstrips Tony's own. (Tony is determined to catch up, but Rhodey never makes him feel bad for having to. Entirely unlike Howard, he thinks, and feels disloyal for the thought.) They bounce ideas off each other and make each other sharper, better, and it's a feeling of belonging Tony never expected to find. When they build an AI - a Turing-complete AI!! - Tony jokes about them becoming parents without ever going on a date, and the look of wistful fondness on Rhodey's face is all the encouragement he needs to finally ask him on one. 

After graduation, Tony owes years to SI and Rhodey owes years to Uncle Sam, but they keep in close touch, with plans to go into business for themselves one day. Times being what they are, no one asks, and no one tells, but he and Rhodey both know that the much publicized dates with various eligible ladies are for maintaining appearances and nothing that will really come between them.

When Howard and Maria die, Rhodey must cash in every favor he has to get the leave, but he's there for the funeral. Tony is pretty sure his steadfast support is the only reason he could stand to be sober those first couple weeks. Stark men are supposed to be made of iron, but Rhodey's always been the one with a core of steel. 

Rhodey never trusts Obie much, and - continued relationship with Tony notwithstanding - Rhodey is an impeccable judge of character. A few years later, an internal audit proves his instincts right when Stane is caught laundering company assets to sell weapons on the black market. Terrified at the thought of his weapons in the wrong hands, Tony quietly begins to diversify SI's business model - clean energy, healthcare, [THIRD THING] - things that can build the world up instead of tear it down.

Eventually Tony is able to hire Rhodey away from the military to be his chief airframe designer and personal test pilot. They move out to California to oversee the autonomous search-and-rescue drones they're developing, and set up in a preposterous mansion overlooking the ocean in Malibu, with their ever growing family of bots and JARVIS to make the huge place feel full.

Despite having no qualms shout their personal AI butler and robotic lab assistants, Rhodey calls him bougie when Tony brings on a driver, Harold-call-me-Happy Hogan, and a personal assistant, one Ms. Virginia Potts. Happy's a solid driver and a cheerful guy, but Ms. Potts is a downright revelation. She's the second person he's met now who has no trouble keeping up with his mile-a-minute mind, and though her competencies lie along a different line than his or Rhodey's, he quickly realizes they are no less remarkable. He also plain likes her in an easy way he so seldom clicks with people. Tony might be a little bit smitten.

After a while he realizes Ms. Potts-call-me-Pepper (and seriously, did Tony miss a memo on alliterative nicknames?) seems smitten too, though not with him. Rhodey's no longer active duty, but old habits of discretion die hard, so she has no way of knowing when she strikes up a flirtation with the airman that he and her boss are more than just business partners. Rhodey's flustered, and Pepper's embarrassed, but Tony's always had a big heart, and he loves nothing quite so much as making the people he cares about happy. He can see the way his honeybear smiles when she's around, and it's obvious how much she lights up with him, and he's a genius, right, but he doesn't need to be to see that they'd work. So he tells them to go for it, as long as Pepper doesn't mind sharing and Rhodey doesn't mind being shared, and they look at him like he's grown a second head because what they want is all of them together.

They totally work.

2 - IM1, BUT HAPPIER?

They meet when Lt. Rhodes is assigned the Air Force liason to Stark Industries. Warned in advance, Rhodey was expecting brash, crass, and totally out of control, but what he found in Stark, Jr. was someone with a passion for machines and an excitement for invention unlike anyone he's ever met. When they realize they'd been on campus at the same time, Tony (“please, Mr. Stark was my father”) declares them the Brass Rat Pack, which makes him roll his eyes, but doesn't make a Sammy Davis, Jr. joke, which bumps him up a couple more points in Rhodey's estimation.

3 - IM2 BUT WITH SOME DAMN COMMUNICATION 

Rhodey was always going to get a suit. Tony's best friend, the best pilot he knows, AND one of the few people in military he actually still trusts? Of course. He offered Pepper one too, but he seemed to expect her to turn him down, because then he offered her the position of CEO. Insisted, really. 

So Pepper becomes the head of Stark Industries while Tony and Rhodey become Iron Man and War Machine. The military brass doesn't love having one of those suits and all of their secrets in the hands and head, respectively, of such an unpredictable element, but knowing that Colonel Rhodes is liasing most of his activities goes a long way toward quieting the grumbles. The men's joint testimony on just how far off any imitators, foreign or domestic, are from duplicating the technology convinces Congress that Team Iron Man's op-sec, while unorthodox, is effective. 

Rhodey takes some well deserved R&R and joins Tony and Pepper in Monaco. It's new still, this thing between them all, but it's good. 

4 - POST-IM2

AVENGERS FAM DAMMIT

Aliens invade New York, and Rhodey is so glad he stole that damn suit. 

5 - POST-IM3

IN WHICH WE AVOID CIVIL WAR 

RESCUE HAPPENS

Rogers and Romanoff bring down SHIELD, and Pepper is horrified to realize how close she came to being murdered by the state. After Killian, after Extremis, she knows she could be considered a threat, but seeing her name, and Tony's, and Rhodey's, on the kill list in the data dump is chilling.

+1 - After Everyone Lives

"Meguna Petunia Stark-Potts-Rhodes, out of the lab and inside for dinner!"

Morgan laughed. "Not my name, Dad - and anyway, wouldn't it be Potts-Rhodes-Stark, alphabetically?"

"You know, you'd think that, but your pops actually called dibs on the anchor leg years ago…"

"A relay's got four legs, Dad."

"What did I ever do to deserve a jock for a daughter? Tell you what, find us a Q who doesn't run screaming, and we'll consider it."

"What are we considering, Tony?"

"Morgan thinks our polycule needs to be a quadrilateral, apparently, and I'm blaming the track team. I've told her we're only considering candidates with Q last names; we're so close to a straight."

"Tony, you've never been close to straight in your life."

Mom gestures at the two bickering and pleads, "Just not another guy, please, darling, I'm outnumbered already."

"I dunno, you usually like tha-"

"Tony!" Mom and Pops shoot him identical stern looks.

Family. She wouldn't want it any other way.

If anyone made it this far, thanks for reading! @allofthefeelings I'm sorry the full fic never made its way out of my brain, but thank you for the prompt anyway! And thanks again to the Good Intentions WIP Fest!

[lovelyirony]

No Shelf-Awareness

I’m just trying to work out these cards I’ve been dealt -Rumour, Chloe Howl

Bucky doesn’t necessarily like meetings. He views them as a waste of time, and they could just as easily give him a paper with all the information. Clint says it’s so if they have questions they ask them there instead of making a mistake on the field.

“They allow mistakes?” Bucky asks, as blandly as can be.

“You make me so sad on so many levels,” Clint says, clapping his shoulder. “Yes, you’re allowed to make mistakes. Why the hell do you think Steve is allowed on-field?”

Bucky laughs at that one.

The meeting in question is about Iron Man. The red and gold suit with a man inside of it, apparently. SHIELD wants his identity but more importantly, the technology.

“If you haven’t found anything else like it, what makes you think that he wants to share it?” Bucky asks. “Just let it happen.”

“We can’t just ‘let’ this happen, Barnes,” Fury says, voice steady and eye trained on him.

“Why not?” Bucky asks. “He’s taking care of criminals on a corporate level. We can’t touch that without bringing more attention to agents.”

“Which is why we’re integrating,” Fury says.

“Not fast enough,” Bucky says. “He doesn’t need to gain trust. With integrating, there’s possibility of a double agent. They get paid off and it’s more than what you promise for a salary.”

“I assure you our agents aren’t that low.”

“Oh and you kept them all from Hydra?” Bucky snaps. “Because as I recall, Rumlow was pretty damn happy to be one of Pierce’s lapdogs, so—”

“Enough,” Fury snaps. “Enough from you, Barnes.”

“We could be dealing more directly with the people we have that actually need to be stopped instead of a damned robot who happens to like taking down illegal corporations that were on our to-do list anyway,” Bucky snipes back. “I’m leaving.”

“Don’t bother expecting yourself on the next mission,” Fury calls after him.

He gets a nice and shiny metal finger in response.

Bucky then decides to treat himself to a trip to the bookstore. He’s already read the last book twice, and he needs a new one.

It’s a Friday, and kids are getting out of school. He pays them little mind as he walks with purpose, taking note of possible threats, a new donut shop

The bookstore smells nice, like coffee and sugar. Bucky wanders through it, keeping an eye out for the owner.

He finds him huddled at a table with a group of teenagers, explaining some sort of math problem, laughing at one’s joke. He has glasses perched on the end of his nose, giving him quite an amusing and cute appearance. Bucky smiles to himself a little as he disappears into the stacks, looking through the new arrivals. He finds two particularly interesting ones.

“That one is really good,” comes a voice from behind him. Bucky turns, seeing Tony. He looks nice today. He’s wearing bright yellow shoes. “I like it.”

Bucky takes another look at the cover.

“What else can you recommend? I’m kind of a fast reader.”

(He is not a fast reader. Well, not really. But if you stay up all night only reading because you have too many nightmares, then it counts. Technically.)

Tony puts about four or five books into his arms before he realizes that he hasn’t checked prices or anything.

“Trust me, this is fine,” Bucky says, grinning. “Thanks, Tony.”

“No problem…huh. I just realized I don’t actually know your name.”

Tony does, in fact, know James Buchanan Barnes’ name. Quite well, in fact. He’s the one who Hydra trained to kill people and attempt to kill Howard and Maria Stark, who are still living. They moved to Italy, by the way. No, Tony doesn’t care. Just makes it easier to break into the New York home on occasion, fix up the old workshop.

(He can’t use his own apartment as a base for Iron Man. That would be utterly ridiculous.)

But for this purpose, he does actually need to learn Bucky’s name.

“I’m Bucky,” he says.

“Parents hated you, did they?” Tony teases.

“Only slightly less than my idiot friend who gave it to me,” Bucky says, grinning.

“Idiot friends are like that,” Tony says, smiling. “Well, do you want to sit down and read for a bit? Chairs are open, if you’d like.”

“Sure. Mind if I order a coffee?”

“Of course,” Tony says. “What do you want?”

Bucky did not know that there was more coffee. Well…correction. He knew that there was more to coffee than black. There had to be, obviously. He just wasn’t expecting the menu to be so extensive. He looked at it for a few moments while Tony waited expectantly.

“Um, wow. I don’t drink a lot of coffee, but um, what would you recommend?”

“I personally love the lavender latte we’ve been trying out,” Tony says. “I’ll make you one and if you don’t like it, I’ll replace it free of charge.”

Bucky not drinking a lot of coffee is a lie. Steve joked that he needed a tank of coffee a day to even function. Bucky just usually took it with a bit of sugar and pronounced it good.

Now this was amazing. Bucky loved the drink, loved how different the flavor was. He could drink about twelve more of these if he really wanted to.

“Tony, this is amazing,” Bucky says, expressing pure delight over it. “How do you make coffee this good?”

“You act as if you’ve never had a latte,” Tony says, laughing. (It’s not acting.) “But here, let me explain…”

Bucky could hear Tony Jarvis explain things for ages. He’s really good at it, like he’s used to explaining how things go all the time. Bucky finds it relaxing.

It is at this point that a kid in a t-shirt comes up.

“Hey, Mr. Jarvis—”

“Call me Tony, Pete,” Tony responds. “What’s next on the homework agenda?”

“We have to write a persuasive essay and since you told us you took marketing, we figured you could help.”

“Not sure how much help I’ll be, but sure,” Tony says. “Bucky, I’ll talk to you later. Enjoy the books. If you finish any while you’re here, just put them back on the re-shelving cart by the door, okay?”

“Yes, Sir!” Bucky says, throwing a mock salute. Tony snorts, saluting lazily back.

Bucky gets sucked into the first book. He relates to how out-of-place the main character feels. He doesn’t notice the sky getting dark until he sips his coffee and it’s cold that he looks up.

Tony has been staring at him for the better part of an hour. Not that he knows that. He just knows that Tony has perhaps been gazing for a minute or two.

“Oh god, please tell me I’m not staying past close,” Bucky says.

“You’re not, don’t worry,” Tony says, laughing. “You would’ve known if you were. No, there’s thirty minutes more left, if you want to keep reading. No rush, sweetheart.”

Bucky goes back to his book with a nod, hoping that Tony doesn’t catch his cheeks going bright red. He remembers being called sweetheart before, but this is drastically different from 1934 for all the right and wrong reasons. (Right because finally he can tell a guy he’s cute without getting mauled or having to whisper it near-six-feet-under. Wrong because Tony is running a business and Bucky met him a day ago.)

Tony shifts nervously around the shop. He had planned on closing early, getting into the suit with Rhodey and doing some recon.

Judging from the texts from Rhodey, so was he:

Bitch where tf are you. Stoopid.

Well excuse me honeypie, but I got held up. A customer is still here!

Kick them out tf????? r u on crack?

No you stupid-ass—listen. I just can’t make it

Ohhhh this is your bucky-boy. This is hilarious. Yeah leave the store open until he leaves. Idk why he isn’t on the roster with the rest of the Avengers this week. Should be. Damned good guy. lmk if he’s a booty call 

I won’t talk to you for a week.

Thank god!

Tony huffs, clicking his phone off and returning to wiping down the counters and rearranging the records. Bucky walks up, putting the books at the register.

“I didn’t realize people still played records,” Bucky says, looking at the room adjacent.

“I’ll make sure that you get to play some next time you’re here,” Tony says. “But let me ring you up, okay?”

Bucky hands out the amount owed and sticks three dollars in the tip jar. Tony thanks him and smiles, and Bucky thinks he’ll have to start separating his bills more so that he can see that smile more often.

-

And then, of course, he gets a call from his phone.

“You’re needed,” Natasha says. “Come over. Now.”

“What happened to me being banned?”

“You’re a sharpshooter and a good weapons analyst. Fury would be stupid to reject that. Get here. Now.”

She hangs up. Always keeps it short and sweet, that Romanov. Bucky sighs, figuring out if he has enough time to go to his apartment and stash the books, or if he’ll have to leave them at headquarters.

He has to leave them at headquarters. He gets a look from Steve and Clint.

“Find a new hobby?” Steve asks.

“Of a sort,” Bucky says. “Got interrupted. What’s the plan?”

“Both War Machine and Iron Man are attacking Hammer Industries. Again.” Clint says, rolling his eyes. “You know, just when you thought they would switch it up. This is the third time in a row. Third time’s the charm and all that…”

Bucky doesn’t trust this for a wide variety of reasons. 1.) Iron Man is smarter than all of them, as is War Machine. 2.) Three times? In a row? Something has to be going down.

“What has Hammer Industries been doing?”

“Other than building weapons and government contracts? Nothing out of the ordinary,” Natasha says.

“Government contract is a big deal ever since Stark Industries lost out,” Bruce adds. “CEO—Pepper Potts—decreed no more weapons. Not a very popular move on her part.” Yeah, Bucky could see that. His best is from Stark Industries, but he understands. Iron Man had released evidence about SI’s involvement in shady under-the-table deals, all at the direction of Obadiah Stane.

“So, why go after a government contract?” Bucky muses. “They know something we don’t.”

“That doesn’t matter right now, we’re getting both of them under custody,” Hill says from the cockpit.

It does matter, his conscious whispers, or else you’d still be staring at Tony from the bookstore. His focus returns to the books at his side. He didn’t notice it before, but the bookstore has its own stamp that it gives the inside covers. It’s cute. He must have stared too long, because Steve nudges his arm.

“I’m glad you found a place you like,” he says. “Where is it?”

For some unknown reason, Bucky doesn’t want to tell anybody.

“Just a bookshop,” he says, closing the cover. “Checked it out before coming here. Around the neighborhood.”

That’s all he says before the mission is engaged and he’s strapped with enough gear to kill a pack of bears. He would much rather be reading, but that’s not what he gets.

-

“Took you long enough,” Rhodey says over the mic. “You and Bucky have fun between the stacks?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Tony responds. “I cannot believe you would accuse me of impropriety, honey. Honestly.”

“I have literally seen you strip on a Tuesday morning because you had too many mimosas and Pepper wanted to see if you actually would.”

“Details darling, let’s focus on the now. What has our dear friend Justin been up to?”

“For one, his online security and the regular security absolutely suck. I already am printing out the evidence where I’m at. I think all we need is to destroy some stuff and then—”

Rhodey gets knocked aside by red, white, and blue.

Tony groans. Figures that they would catch onto the pattern. Tony knew he should’ve waited, but he didn’t want to get Hammer spooked and up and running again. They needed him out of the way, maybe introduce a better CEO or hell, a better company—

“Iron Man, stand down,” comes the loudspeaker of the jet.

“Fat chance,” he mutters, zooming away from one of Hawkeye’s projectile arrows. Seriously, they could have so much better range if he built them. Unfortunately for him, SHIELD apparently wants him on a silver platter, so that won’t be a nice future with the company.

War Machine is already leading the heavy hitters away. The hardest one to deal with is usually Thor, who doesn’t always have the most accurate shot but definitely doesn’t entirely miss. Especially with the hammer having some sort of recall, it’s difficult to avoid. Tony’s just happy that Winter Soldier is off the roster and away from—

Son of a bitch, no he’s not. He can see the arm from here, and curses.

“Platypus, we have a gleaming problem.”

“I thought he was off the roster!”

“Apparently Fury signed his permission slip for this field trip,” he replies. “What do we need to destroy? I have an idea.”

“A shipment of guns. I don’t recommend going anywhere near it, but of course you will not heed my advice.”

“Be a dear and lead the Widow in closer? I think I can do something.”

Winter Soldier is having a fun time. Usually the missions are a one-hit-wonder, so to speak. Iron Man and War Machine move and actually anticipate the shots, which is all sorts of fun. He just hopes that Steve can’t see his grin, or he’ll be in hot water for it. (Fun sucker.)

“Barnes do you have the shot!” Nat yells.

“I’ve had the damn shot, what the fuck do you want me to do against iron?” he yells back.

“It’s titanium-alloy, but I understand,” Iron Man says smoothly, touching down as lightly as a ballerina. “SHIELD not do the intelligence testing anymore? I understand. If they knew Hawkeye was on the team without it…”

Bucky wants to laugh. He really, really does. But he doesn’t. “Why are you at Hammer? What’s your game?”

“I’m surprised you ask,” Tony says, blinking. His helmet tilts to one side. Usually, no one at SHIELD asks any sort of question. This is…new. “Hammer’s selling under the table. War Machine and I are handling it.”

“You didn’t tell SHIELD about this, did you?”

“There’s a reason SHIELD wants me in handcuffs but the suit left to their own devices,” he says. “They’re not as trustworthy as you think, hot-shot.”

And then Iron Man dodges a blast, and the debris lands on the containers.

The company’s own fault. Clever. Bucky has to hand it to whoever is behind the mask, he’s smart.

Iron Man does a mock salute.

“Until next time, losers!” War Machine calls out.

“Do you think they know that War Machine has a tracking device?” Natasha asks. Clint shakes his head.

“Not sure. Probably not since we’ve been focusing on Iron Man. We’ll have to wait and see.”

Bucky turns, thinking. Iron Man had said that they’re not as trustworthy as they seem. What did he mean by that? How so?

-

Rhodey isn’t a fucking clown. Of course he knows they put a tracker somewhere on his suit. It’s recording audio, which Jarvis knows. Rhodey puts a finger to his lips as they touch down. Tony gets the hint immediately, taps out a message for Jarvis to scan and debug.

“Pest Control Initiative working now…” comes the smooth, lilting accent of Jarvis.

Once they’re out of harm’s way, Rhodey cracks a grin.

“Think they’ll like that?”

“Should fry the system for them for a little bit,” Tony says. “Which leads into me getting in. Thanks for putting up with that whole mess.”

“You owe me a century-old bottle of whiskey for Black Widow.”

“Get in line behind Pepper,” Tony says. “She’ll be at the cabinet on your left.” Rhodey snorts as they touch down at Stark Industries. Pepper is there with a raised eyebrow.

“Evening gentlemen,” she says. “Drinks are on the counter. Fruit juice, no alcohol. It’s a Thursday.”

“Thursday is Friday is Saturday,” Rhodey snarks, taking the glass anyway. “How was work today, Pep?”

“Horrible,” she groans, leaning back on her barstool. “Asshats keep trying to tell me what to do when it’s my company, technically speaking. Tony, how is your bookshop?”

“We’re getting more and more people in,” Tony says. “Record sales are nice, coffee is good too. I need to come up with a new idea for an iced coffee flavor. I’m coming up with nothing.”

“Hazelnut usually works well if you need something in a pinch,” she returns. “Did you manage to get into their system?”

“Success,” Jarvis cuts in smoothly. “I am well-integrated into their system; they have no idea I am there. Of course.”

Jarvis is a bit proud of that particular thing. Then again, he gets a big head when he’s successful.

“Good for you,” Rhodey says. “What can you tell us?”

“Employees have a shocking amount of free time and have made a donut tower.”

“The business, J,” Tony says.

“I am sorry, I was following your ever-amazing guidance for protocol,” Jarvis remarks. “SHIELD has an unprecedented number of holes in security. Files have gone missing. There are a few members that go on trips and check in at the ill-advised times.”

“What does that mean?” Pepper asks.

“When Peggy was running the show everyone had to check in at her time,” Tony says. “She also talked personally about it with everyone or assigned people to supervise if she couldn’t. It was more reliant on people and what you saw. With Fury, times became more technological. Not a bad thing, but not a fantastic thing either. With technology you could claim there was an issue checking in, or the computer lagged. It happens, and you can say that every once in a while unless if you’re me.”

“Because you built most of the systems,” Rhodey says. “So we know you’re at least decently smart.” Tony pokes his tongue out.

“Point is, a lot of the older members of SHIELD either say they didn’t get it, or get tech support to fix it later. Using their inability as an ability, most likely. Clever. I’m just wondering how far it goes.”

“We’ll find out in time,” Rhodey says. “Maybe when you take Bucky out for drinks, you can seduce him into giving you information.”

Pepper stills.

“Tony, you did what?!”

“Um…” Tony glares at Rhodey. “He kind of lives by my bookstore and doesn’t know I’m there? If that makes it better? I should go, I have inventory—”

“Stay,” Pepper says. “We are working on this and I am making sure that you don’t give away your secret because you fall in love.”

“I won’t fall in love!”

“Tall, dark, mysterious, and reads books? Please, I’m surprised I don’t see drool coming out of your mouth,” Pepper says. “Rhodey, did you know about this?”

“Yes. I didn’t tell you because it was funny.”

Pepper huffs. Tony sinks into a comfy lounge chair. It’s gonna be a long night.

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #231: Up From the Depths!

May, 1983

So back to where we were before a detour in Annualsylvania.

Time for Roger Stern’s first issue where he can do his own thing and not have to tie up someone else’s story. Although he did a really good job tying up someone else’s story so I’m hype to see his other ideas.

And the cover is. Uh. Thor, She-Hulk, and Captain Marvel trying to beat up a tree? Yeah, take that, the Lorax.

More seriously, its just good that cover artists have gotten the note about her outfit.

We start this story when some uh swamp thing looking things march out of Chesapeake Bay just before dawn.

“They are not men... not yet.”

Huh.

The narration informs us that in addition to not being men... not yet, these figures don’t even have bones.

Then one of the things just squishes through a chain link fence.

Ah, the ol’ T2 maneuver. Good show.

The things sneak up on a hilariously yellow-suited SHIELD agent, hold him down and knock him out.

One of the things turns into the guy they just grabbed.

Whoever: “No help is needed, Agent Farber. Farber... yes, that’s your name... my name now. The master was right. Farber’s surface memories are mine.”

Then New Farber sets off on Farber’s patrol route.

What a perplexing happening.

Several hours later, now for something completely different.

The Avengers, plus former members Vision, Scarlet Witch, Wonder Man, and Beast have gathered together at Meadowglen Memorial Gardens to... well...

Vision: “We have gathered here this day to pay our final respects to a former ally... a friend who gave her life trying to end the threat of Ultron. The robot Jocasta was never officially an Avenger. In truth, we barely knew her. What joys she held, what pain she felt, we can but guess. That is our failure... that is our loss. Now, we can only remember her gallantry, and mourn.”

=(

She was too beautiful for this world.

Also, I know you already did the mea culpa on it, Vizh, but you personally barely knew her because you blew her off whenever she tried to socialize with you.

And the Avengers barely knew her because they constantly forgot that she was there.

Yeah, you admitted its your failure but I really want to make it clear what a big failure it was. You goons.

So what happened? Well, in Marvel Two-in-One #92-93... Jocasta pays a visit to the Fantastic Four and complains that the Avengers used and discarded her (which is half right but she actually ran away before they could reveal they wanted her to officially stay on as a substitute Avenger because they didn’t bother to mention it to her ahead of time).

She started living in alleys because society didn’t accept her. But she started having malfunctions that caused her a lot of pain so she came to seek Mr. Fantastic’s aid.

Overnight, Jocasta starts having nightmares about Ultron.

The following morning, Insurance Worker Aaron Stack meets with the Thing and decides to follow him around when Thing mentions he has to go deal with a lady robot. Because Aaron Stack.

Jocasta goes to the factory where Ultron was trapped in adamantium and frees him because Ultron hid a program in her brain to compel her to resurrect him. He tries to make her his bride again and she’s like ‘ew no’ again.

The Thing and Aaron Stack show up and Thing ends up mind controlled by Ultron who uses him to attack Aaron Stack.

Aaron Stack manages to get away with Jocasta. While repairing his Battle Damage, Aaron asks Jocasta why she doesn’t just call in the Avengers and she basically goes ‘i had a very dramatic exit and i’m not ruining it.’

The two robots go and confront Ultron again. Jocasta winds up wrestling with Ultron over a power cannon and it goes off blasting them both but specifically blasting Jocasta in half and not blasting Ultron in half.

Aaron Stack manages to defeat Ultron by reaching down his throat and ripping out his power supply.

... It feels like Aaron Stack does that kind of thing a lot.

Anyway, that’s how Jocasta died. And that’s why I’m sad.

The various Avengers and former Avengers all have their own thoughts during the heads bowed moment of silence.

Cap is just thinking about how many people he’s known have fallen in battle. Captain Marvel and She-Hulk feel the loss despite never meeting Jocasta. Thor wonders whether there might be room in Valhalla for her, despite being a robot. Hawkeye manages not to say anything disrespectful at all “for once.” Wasp is feeling like she lost a sister she’d never known. Really should have spent time with her. Granted, Jocasta felt weird about hanging out with you. Wonder Man thinks about the time that he died because everything reminds that guy of the fact that he died once. Beast feels like he’s been to too many funerals lately. Huh, did all the Defenders die already? And Vision is an inscrutable bastard even to the narration. Rude.

When the Avengers and co break up into smaller groups for chit chat, Beast asks Cap where the heck Iron Man is?

Cap(tain America, ‘natch) can only say that they left word for him about the service but that something must have come up.

Where the heck is Iron Man? His absence has been a plot point for several issues now.

LATER at 10 o’clock, Nick Fury, director of SHIELD, is in a helicopter with President Ronald Reagan on their way to inspect a SHIELD base where the agents are hilariously yellow-suited.

But when they get out of the helicopter, all the agents point their guns at the president.

Aw hey! And here I thought SHIELD sucked!

Okay, okay, okay. Its probably a gooey swamp plot, for some reason.

Also, Nick swears. I’m telling.

Five minutes later, at Avengers Mansion, the Avengers assemble for their regular meeting.

Except Iron Man hasn’t shown up.

As he hasn’t shown up for many meetings.

Cap wants to wait a couple more minutes because he’s just suuuuuure that he’ll be here any minute.

Poor, Cap.

Because right when Jan is going to start the meeting, they get a call on the priority phone.

Its Iron Man!

Wasp: “Iron Man! We’ve been trying to contact you for weeks! Where have you been?!? What happened? Are you all right?”

Iron Man: “Huh? Oh, yeah... I’m fine. But there’s been a lot of hassles here lately... at Stark International, I mean. The boss... Mr. Stark’s been going through a lot of changes, and he’ll be needing my help on more of a full-time basis for the time being. What I’m trying to say is... I have to quit the Avengers.”

This causes no small amount of consternation.

Cap even grabs the phone from Jan and tells Iron Man that they need him and that if there’s anything wrong, the Avengers can help.

Iron Man just says hey you guys are pros you can get along without me bye.

And then he hangs up as Thor is asking for his turn to talk.

Geez, what a weird call from Iron Man!

So whats the deal?

Here’s the deal.

Remember how Tony wasn’t looking so great last time he showed up in the book? Was kind of manic and unshaven?

Over in the Iron Man book, Obadiah Stane has been gaslighting Tony. Leaving bottles of whiskey out for him. Getting Indries Moomji to seduce Tony and then dump him. Hypnotizing a bunch of businessmen at a meeting to shout gibberish at Tony for some reason.

Presumably on top of all the nonsense going on in Avengers like the stress over what happened to Hank and with Jan, Tony falls off the wagon and starts drinking again.

He gets so drunk he starts flying around in the Iron Man armor, smashing every liquor billboard, which is funny if alarming. Deep in the bottle, Tony reveals to Rhodey that he’s Iron Man and then passes out.

Rhodey puts on the Iron Man armor and fights the villain de jour. Afterward, Tony refuses to take the armor back and leaves it in Rhodey’s care before going off to go be drunk some more.

So now Rhodey is Iron Man. Pretty exciting news for fans of Rhodey! It also means we’re getting closer to Secret Wars because Rhodey was the Iron Man in that story.

But, alas, for Tony Stark fans. Especially after having his identity revealed to Cap and Wasp, opening up a whole new dynamic among the Avengers.

Rhodey quits the Avengers because he doesn’t feel comfortable pretending to be the same Iron Man among them and doesn’t feel that he should reveal that the man inside the armor changed out of respect for Tony’s secrets.

Sooo. Yeah. Iron Man is off the team. Geez.

Stunned by this but doing her job as chairwoman, Wasp announces that the first order of business for their meeting is to fill the vacancy in the roster.

Who will it beeeeeeeeee?? -remembers the Starfox tease from last issue- Oh god no.

Meanwhile over at scene change, a scene changes.

10:15 AM, back to the SHIELD base.

Hilariously orange-suited Jasper Sitwell clasps his hands like a villain and announces that he’s holding the president ransom for...

ONE BILLION DOLLARS

President Reagan: “A billion dollars!! Good lord, man! Be reasonable! The federal budget can’t take that much added strain!”

They’ve already spent so much on the Iran-Contra affair.

Wait... -checks wikipedia- Oh okay, yeah it started in 1981 so this dig is historically justified.

Nick Fury, despite all the guns pointed at Reagan, decides to tackle Sitwell. All while thinking that base commandering this base was just too much pressure for poor Sitwell and clearly he snapped under the strain.

But then Sitwell grabs Fury mid-leap and slams him into the wall.

Nick Fury: “You... you’re not Sitwell!”

Not Sitwell: “No, but I’m a very good double, aren’t I? My men have replaced every single agent on this base! Now, are you ready to notify the proper authorities?”

So seconds later, Fury makes a broadcast to the White House situation room.

Nick Fury: “I... have some bad news, Pete. The boss an’ me are prisoners here.”

BUT! The person who got the message realizes that Bad News Pete is actually Agent Gyrich’s codename.

Which cracks me up.

And since Agent Gyrich is SOMEHOW still the Avengers liaison, despite the fact that they all hate him and refuse to deal with him in person, this is a code from Fury to call the Avengers.

So Henry Peter Gyrich calls the Avengers and tells them what’s going on and before you know it, the Quinjet is flying out of the mansion.

Apparently the launch bay is in the third floor now because the wall just swings open and the Quinjet flies out.

Neat.

On the flight over, Cap, She-Hulk, Thor, and Wasp try to strategize.

Try. Because they know where all the artillery emplacements are but without knowing where the President is being held, they don’t dare make a move.

Hey, Avengers, maybe you don’t have to be bad enough dudes to rescue the president from swamp monsters?

But since that’s not an option, the Avengers decide to wait until they hear from their advance scout.

Also, She-Hulk and Hawkeye are still bickering despite coming to a new understanding of each other recently. Peace was never an option?

So who is the advance scout? Captain Marvel, of course!

This is pretty rad, actually.

She can just turn to x-rays and invisibly zoom through the base going through all the walls she likes.

 Like, yeah, once its known that Captain Marvel is on the Avengers, I bet you can expect villain liars to suddenly start having radiation and energy detectors because of this precise sort of thing, but its neat that this is one of the things Captain Marvel brings to the table.

While zooming around, Captain Marvel also finds a sealed chamber full of gas where all the real SHIELD agents are conked out.

And the most heavily guarded room where she finds Nick Fury and a snoozing president.

Moments later, Captain Marvel nyooms back to the Quinjet as it passes Wilmington, Delaware to deliver her report.

Hawkeye: “Whew! She flew there, searched the place, and got back here before we’d flown much more’n a hundred miles! That’s some kinda fast!”

Drinking some respect Monica juice, Hawkeye?

Captain Marvel reports that Fury and the president are being held in the base commander’s quarters, behind a six inch steel door and four armed men and that the real SHIELD agents are all unconscious in a chamber on the other side of the complex.

This information is enough for Cap(tain America) to start formulating a strategy.

But meanwhile, in a submarine in the bottom of the bay. Its a mysterious figure in a silly outfit who is the one who is behind the doppleganging swamp men.

He receives a report from Simuloid-One aka Not Sitwell who reports that the ultimatum was delivered to the White House and that if they don’t receive a reply in an hour, the president will be killed.

Mysterious Mastermind: “Excellent! If the ransom is delivered, I will have riches enough to work miracles! And if not -- America will be placed in a state of chaos which I will easily turn to my advantage! Either way, I win!”

Simuloid-One agrees that things couldn’t look brighter.

-ominous thunder-

Hee.

Thor is great for irony.

Outside the SHIELD base, Thor stands atop the Quinjet, looking not at all to scale, and destroys radar towers and gun emplacements.

Good thing Tony is missing so he doesn’t have to pay for any of this later.

Actually, is this going to wind up being much cheaper than paying the one billion ransom?

Because when the Quinjet lands, She-Hulk just tears open the ground at Cap’s insistence to reveal the central underground corridor. That’s gonna cost a pretty penny.

Thor stays above ground to finish beating up people and also tanks (although he’s already knocked out half of the fake SHIELD agents on the surface) and the rest of the Avengers slip into the base.

The Avengers split up per Cap’s strategy. She-Hulk and Cap go one direction, Hawkeye and Wasp in the other.

No sooner than they split the party, Cap and She-Hulk are bogged down in a group of the fake SHIELD agents in hilarious yellow suits.

Cap: “Heads up, She-Hulk -- we have company!”

She-Hulk: “Like I said before, no problem! I just wish we weren’t in such a hurry -- so I could take the time to enjoy this more! This is the best workout I’ve had in weeks!”

She-Hulk is fun.

Over with Team Wasp and also Hawkeye, Hawkeye holds off a different gang of swampmenfakeagents as Wasp slips out through a vent to get reinforcements.

Meanwhile, on Team Monica, Monica shows up where Nick Fury is taking off his belt and Reagan is taking a nap. Her part in Cap’s plan is to help Fury guard the president.

Meanwhile but back in New York, a rocket lands at Avengers Mansion.

Since the Avengers have a security at least good enough to detect that, an alarm goes off and Jarvis runs outside with a frying pan to bludgeon whoever it is.

Good hustle, Jarvis.

But its Starfox.

Hit him anyway, Jarvis.

Starfox: “I beg your pardon. I suppose I should have radioed ahead, but I wanted to surprise my old comrades. You must be Jarvis... Thor spoke of you. I am Eros of Titan. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

Jarvis: “Eros? Why... yes. You were allied with the Avengers against Thanos!”

Starfox: “Ah, I thought my fame might have preceded me. Are the Avengers about?”

Jarvis: “I... I’m afraid not, sir. They’re engaged in a most important mission.”

Starfox: “Really? Where?”

Jarvis: “I’m not at liberty to discuss -- !”

Starfox: “Oh, come on! You can tell me!”

Jarvis: “W-well...”

Starfox! You’d better not be using your space charisma on Jarvis! He is an angel!

Back at the plot in Maryland, Thor, Cap(tain America), She-Hulk- and Hawkeye have somehow managed to end up broadly in the same place fighting the combined two groups of fake agents.

And considering its the Avengers hitting them, they’re not going down.

She-Hulk is hitting them and they keep getting up for more!

That’s alarming and impressive.

But... Hawkeye shoots a blast arrow too close to some of the fake agents and one of them loses an arm.

But this isn’t the modern age. That’d be too graphic.

Its only wood.

Its described as brittle wood but again: they were taking hits from She-Hulk.

And based on one of the wood agents getting stuck in a loop, Captain America decides that they’re not only not men, they’re also not even sentient.

I don’t know that matches with what we’ve seen from these simuloids in terms of holding conversation and apparently having personalities. But I guess its only virtual.

But now that the Avengers know their enemies aren’t human and aren’t people, they don’t have to hold back.

They just sort of. Start dismantling the wood men and breaking them to bits so they can’t get back up.

If it weren’t wood, it would be pretty brutal!

Back at the submarine and the secret mastermind, the secret mastermind isn’t pleased that the Avengers are overrunning the base when there’s only six of them and nearly a thousand wood men.

Not Sitwell: “The odds would seem to be in our favor by your calculations, master, but their power is such that -- !”

Secret Mastermind: “Silence! Do not speak to the Plant-Man of power! Mine was the genius that gave the semblance of life to unthinking plant tissue! There can be no greater power than that! Avengers or no Avengers, I will not be thwarted!”

He tells Not Sitwell to dispatch all other simuloids and for Not Sitwell to see to the president and Nick Fury himself.

And since Plant-Man is fairly fed up being made to look the fool by people like the Avengers, he’s not going to take the loss gracefully. And he has a special weapon to crush all opposition and he’s gonna use it!

So! Plantman!

A Mega Man robot master?

No, no. Its Samuel Smithers. Also that wood man we saw in jail last issue. But that was clearly a decoy. How sneaky.

Plantman was originally a Human Torch villain who was a botanist who invented a ray gun that controls and animates plant life.

Much like every other Human Torch Strange Tales villain, I can’t take this man too seriously. He was a grown man who devoted his life trying to bully a teenager.

Also, he joined Nebulon’s cult for a while. So. Even less respect.

His costume also doesn’t scream ‘i control plants.’ He just looks like a doofus.

Anyway, in section C, Hawkeye and Wasp have found the chamber where the real agents of SHIELD are being kept sedated. Wasp finds the air circulation controls and vents the gas.

She sends Hawkeye to go back up Cap and sees to the rousing agents herself.

First things first, she tells them to get undressed.

Dammit, Jan! Time and place!

Jokes aside, I feel like this is a shirts vs skins thing.

What with all the identical people in yellow suits and face obscuring helmets and goggles.

In section B, Not Sitwell is following Plantman’s orders. He takes the elevator from the base communications center to the CO’s office.

Which opens right in front of the CO’s office for some reason.

That just seems like its asking for trouble. Like the CO falling down an open elevator shaft because the elevator just opens right in the floor!

Who designed this base!

What happens if you take the elevator up right when someone is leaving the office and they trod on your head! This is why elevators aren’t located in the middle of the floor!

Anyway, Not Sitwell tells the door guards to cover him while he eliminates the prisoners.

Inside the CO office, Nick Fury has finished taking off his belt.

So much undressing in this issue!

Okay, but seriously. Apparently, just in case of a situation exactly like this where he’s disarmed, Nick wears a belt that he can convert into a slingshot. Including an explosive pellet that could blow down a steel door.

That’s thinking ahead!

To a weird degree. Hopefully its a stable explosive and won’t go off in case anyone ever kicks him in the dick.

Anyway, he never ever gets a chance to use it because Cap(tain America) and She-Hulk beat up the guards and Not Sitwell and came in to help rescue Fury and the president. And they give him Not Sitwell’s gun so there’s no reason for Nick to ever use his belt explosive.

It be like that sometimes.

Then there’s a K-BAM that shakes the base so Cap(tain America) sends Cap(tain Marvel) and She(-Hulk) to investigate while he stays with Fury to protect the president.

Meanwhile, the president the Reagan wakes up from his nap. This isn’t important but this is the characterization the comic is going with. Sleepy Reagan.

Captain Marvel zooms off at literal light speed with She-Hulk telling her not to hog all of the action.

But then She-Hulk finds Hawkeye who has been pinned under some collapsed ceiling after that K-BAM. She(-Hulk) helps him out but his leg has been broken.

Then a bunch of shirtless people run in to She-Hulk’s alarm.

But its okay! Its the people Jan had get shirtless! And it was, probably, for shirt vs skins reasons!

Wasp tells She-Hulk that they’ve cleared out most of the fake agents and that they’ll keep an eye on Hawkeye, so She-Hulk should find out whats going on topside.

She-Hulk: “Holee -- ! What the devil is that?!”

Turns out that whats going on topside iiiiiiiiis

A giant-sized man-thing?

No, no. But definitely some kind of large... swamp... thing.

It apparently stomped out of the bay, according to a bolt of electricity. Who is Captain Marvel. Who also reports that the giant-sized swamp thing is pretty resistant to electricity.

Which makes sense. Vegetation isn’t a great conductor, is it?

She-Hulk: “The only thing a monster that big understands is strength!”

Then she runs at it Leeroy Jenkins style and gets stomped.

So thaaaaaaaat explains that cover. Good to know, good to know.

She-Hulk is strong enough to start lifting the foot off of her and Thor makes it even easier by smashing the monster in the leg, making ti topple to the ground.

Then Captain Marvel basically turns into a laser and bounces all over the monster, carving bits off.

Problem: This thing works under Sorcerer’s Apprentice rules.

Every piece chopped off becomes an angry tree man.

Those are some angry Ents.

Which unfortunately puts the Avengers right back where they started vis having a small army of angry wood men they have to beat up.

... Son of a damn is the giant-sized swamp thing an asteroids monster? You beat him into smaller monsters and have to beat those into monsters too small to be a threat anymore?

Dammit, Plantman!

She-Hulk points out the obvious that Captain Marvel can just set all the wood men on fire.

Which she does. She just starts emitting infrared radiation until a miniature, ambulatory forest fire starts.

Plantman: “This can’t be! They’re destroying my mightiest creation! What next?”

What next is that a rocket hits the giant-sized swamp thing in the face, destroying it.

Annnnd out pops Starfox.

Trading one problem for another.

Ha ha.

Ok, maybe he’s not actually so bad. We’ll see.

With the giant-sized swamp thing destroyed, Plantman flees the scene in his submarine. Luckily smart enough to not have shown his face so the Avengers don’t know he was involved.

Order is restored to the base and all the agents put their shirts back on, presumably to Jan’s chagrin.

President Reagan is grandfatherly or whatever and instead of complaining about this laughably massive security breach, just raises SHIELD’s budget so they can plug this swamp slime hole in their security.

And I’m surrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrre SHIELD will never have massive security breaches everrrrrrrrrrrrrr again.

Then again, he slept through most of the story so I’m sure he has no idea what happened.

And apparently Captain Marvel was moved from trainee to full, active Avenger at some point between issues.

Everyone pats her back and tells her that she did a good job, which she did do.

Starfox slides into the conversation and also adds his congratulations, slightly flirtily.

Captain Marvel is like holy shit an alien. What are you doing on Earth?

Starfox: “Why, I should think it’s obvious! I’ve come to join the Avengers!”

Everyone: “WHAT?!”

Hawkeye: -facepalm- Oh, no!

Womp, womp!

Heh. I’m amused that the Avengers have a similar reaction to me about this guy showing up to join the team.

So as Stern’s first issue not completing someone else’s story? Very good job, Stern. This was fun.

The characters were used effectively. The plot was fresh. Hawkeye’s leg got broken.

You’re doing a really good job!

Follow @essential-avengers​ because together we can make fun of Starfox much more effectively. Also like and reblog to let me do I’m doing a good job.

[aurumacadicus]

If you haven’t done it yet, could you do the 5 AU game for your Regency AU?

the-stories-in-my-head-95 said: Hi, I was wondering if you could please do the AU challenge for your regency AU! Thank you!

Hmmmm what should I put that I haven’t already covered lmao. Also some of these are hard and heavy whoops. Long post is long and no I’m not putting it under a cut because no one fucking reblogs my stuff anyway.

It’s a warm night. “Sticky,” Tony complains, because the summers in his kingdom had been dry heat. The Rogers kingdom can gets humid in the beginning, as Spring warms into Summer. “Yeah,” Steve agrees in a sigh, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. It’s too warm to sleep, but also too late to do anything else. They finally moved out onto the balcony, because it, at least, had a breeze. Bucky turns to look at him, leaning his chin on his hand as he watches a bead of sweat gather on Tony’s collarbone, until it slips down to soak the lace hem of his nightgown. “Might feel better if more of your skin got the breeze,” he offers. Tony narrows his eyes at him. “You’re not just saying that because you want to mount me, are you?” “Honey, I am not impervious to heat. Steve an’ I are down to our shorts and I am this close to throwing them off and going naked,” Bucky sighs, rolling his eyes. Tony continues to stare at him suspiciously for a moment, then mutters a shy, petulant, “Don’t look,” as he finally reaches down for the hem of his nightgown. They obey, but it takes effort. Tony sets his nightgown aside and can’t help a relieved sigh when the warm breeze trails over his damp skin. “Ooh...!” Steve reaches out to trail his fingertips over the small of Tony’s back, murmuring a soft, “Dewy,” mostly to himself. Tony makes a questioning humming noise, and Bucky blinks at him. “What?” “He looks like he’s covered in dew, like the gardens in the morning,” Steve murmurs. “I’m going to draw it.” He can’t sleep, and drawing doesn’t take much effort, so once he thinks about it, the idea is too good to pass up. “Stay here. I’m going to go get my paper and charcoal.” “Steve nooo,” Tony whines, embarrassed, grabbing at his ankle as the blond steps over him. “Steve yes,” Bucky cuts in happily, grabbing Tony’s wrist to stop him. Luckily, Tony isn’t too embarrassed and doesn’t insist that he hide them away. They’re tasteful--he’s obviously naked, but the folds of the blanket around him hide the raciness of it. There is one picture, a cheeky one with his lace-covered rear secondary to the sweat gathering at the small of his back and curling the hair at his nape, but it’s so unbearably intimate that Tony can’t even get mad about it.

Janet makes herself at home in the Rogers kingdom. “Of course, if you insist I return home,” she tells Steve and Bucky, in a way that seems likes she’s deferring to them but honestly just seems more like a threat. “Why would we send away Tony’s friends?” Bucky asks. “He’s allowed to have friends. That isn’t our business.” Janet gives him a long, speculative look up and down, then smiles at him sweetly. “That’s true.” Then she grabs Tony’s hand and begins dragging him out of the throne room. “Jan,” Tony exclaims, trying to stop her and failing--although to be fair to him, Janet seems to be a very unstoppable force. Steve and Bucky watch them go before looking at Rhodey. “Uh.” “She’s always been like this,” Rhodey replies with a shrug. “You get used to it.”

Janet had taken up sewing while she’d been seething in her parents’ castle. “It helped, stabbing things with a needle,” she says, demure, when Tony shows impressed awe at her accomplishment. “I imagined it was Stane’s eyeballs.” Tony pauses in pawing through the silk shirts she’d been showing him, turning to look at her with a confused frown. “The whole time?” “Sometimes it was Tiberius’s eyes but yes, I imagined their eyeballs until news came that you were pregnant,” Janet admits. She grabs up a shirt the finest shade of mint green. “Go put this on.” “What,” Tony sputters. Janet scowls at him. “Go put this on. I made them for you, you know!” “Why,” Tony says, bewildered, even as she shoves him toward his privacy screen. “Belated wedding gifts,” is all he gets before she pulls the privacy screen to block him from her view. “Hurry up. I need to make some adjustments. You’re heavier than last I saw you.” Tony frowns down at his waist, putting his hand on his stomach. “Am I too fat?” he can’t help but ask worriedly. “Tony you were always too skinny and I was ready to murder everyone here if your waistline wasn’t wider when I arrived,” Janet informs him sharply, pulling the screen aside so he gets the full brunt of her glare. “It’s why I left more fabric than I usually would when I did the hems.” Tony screams, startled, because he’d forgotten how fierce her glares were and also he hasn’t been looked at in a state of undress except for his husbands or children since he arrived in the Rogers kingdom (barring when Natasha was helping him dress) and he’s surprised by how embarrassed he is about it. It’s still not as embarrassed as he feels when the bedroom door bursts open and Steve and Bucky lunge in with snarls to find the danger. “...What’s going on here,” Steve says after a moment, because his omega is clutching a shirt to his naked chest and looking vaguely terrified, but there’s nothing to cause his terror. “Oh my God get out!” Tony yelps, mortified. “...This is our room too,” Bucky begins, and then leers at him. “Oh? What’s this?” “You’ve had him to yourself for years it’s my turn,” Janet barks at him. “You can see his new clothes after I’ve altered them!” She is a terror, so Steve and Bucky wisely flee. (Which is fine. Tony’s shy little fashion show a few days later is absolutely adorable, especially when he gushes about the fine stitchery and quality fabric that Janet had gifted him with, even if they are too afraid to tear it off of him.)

One day, Tony asks Steve about a battle. He’s quiet before he finally says the words, so it’s clear he’s thought about it a long time before he asked, which makes sense, because Steve and Bucky rarely talk about the war, at least with Tony, who had suffered in ways that had left him more hollowed out than any battle ha left them. ”I always thought it was strange, that a group of a hundred soldiers would be wiped out like that, considering all of the altercations surrounding it. Looking back, your people were happier to take prisoners of war than have to dig graves for them,” Tony explains when Steve doesn’t answer immediately. “You’d never wiped out an entire troop before.” Steve remembers it. Remembers the troop they’d fought. Remembers his heart dropping into his stomach like a stone once he’d killed the commander of the troop and his second-in-command had sobbed in terror. Remembers his abrupt order to retreat immediately even as he’d been turning on his heel to run. Tony frowns, brows furrowing together as Steve chokes on a sob and covers his face with one hand. “Steve? Steve, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--please forget I asked, I--” “The entire troop was made up of children,” Steve chokes out, and Tony’s mouth shuts with a click of his teeth slamming together. “Except for the commander. He practically fell on my sword. I think he was trying to protect them, because without a leader they’d surrender.” “Steve,” Tony whispers, horrified. “I ran away,” Steve continues. “I turned and I ran and I told everyone else to retreat too. There was only one casualty in that battle and he sacrificed himself so that the rest of his troop could run away too. Gabe and Bucky saw it. Every one of those kids dropped their weapons and fled. They didn’t get wiped out because we killed them. We listed them as casualties so that no one would go looking for them.” “I--” Tony begins, speechless, unsure what to say. Mostly he wants the ground to open up and swallow him, mortified tears forming in his eyes. “Steve, I--” Steve reaches out and grabs him before he can run away, holding him so tightly that Tony whimpers, but he doesn’t let go. “Every time I remember that moment, I think about you.” Tony jerks, leaning back to look up at him with wet eyes. “Why?” “Because you kept Stane from lowering the conscription age,” Steve answers. “You saved so many kids’ lives. And because... Tony, you were only a couple years older than them at the time of the battle. You were a child, too. What was an omega child to do when their regent was abusing them?” Tony’s breath hitches, and he hides his face in Steve’s chest, unable to speak. He’d never really thought about it like that before; he’d only been seventeen when he’d seen the numbers on the map. He really was only a year or two older than the children in that troop--but he didn’t even want to call it a troop. They weren’t soldiers. They were just a group of children being led by a man desperate to protect them. “I never wanted to tell you,” Steve says softly as Tony sniffles into his shoulder. “But it would have been crueler to lie. Don’t you see, Tony? You saved so many lives in the only ways you could, and your people were there to make the sacrifices you couldn’t to help you. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that if it had been you standing behind that man, he would have made the same decision. Because you were also a child.” Tony begins sobbing in earnest, and Steve wishes he could have lied, but he knew it would only hurt him in the long run, especially if Tony found out he was lying. It was better this way--lancing the wound and letting it drain at once instead of letting it fester. He presses kisses to the skin he can reach, because there’s nothing else he can really say to make it better.

Bucky rarely horns in on Steve and Tony’s “training” dates. Steve had so much trouble connecting with Tony in the beginning that he actually enjoys that they have something to do together that’s just for the two of them. He also enjoys that Steve typically gives him the same courtesy with his and Tony’s morning rides, but he wouldn’t actually mind if Steve joined them (and he’s pretty sure the only reason Steve doesn’t is because he abhors getting up early). Still, sometimes he can’t help it, feeling restless, like his own skin doesn’t fit right. It happens from time to time--more, now that he’s missing one of his arms. So he goes down to see them, the grounds quiet except for the clanging of swords, grunts of exertion, and the occasional squeal when Steve takes advantage of Tony’s poor form and grabs a handful of Tony’s ass. Bucky leans in the doorway, sticking to the shadow so he doesn’t disturb them. He’s pretty sure that Steve knows he’s there, but the blond doesn’t give any other indication beyond a friend-or-foe glance before he returns his attention to Tony, so quickly that Bucky wonders if it even happened. That’s fine, though. He just wants to observe, soaking in the contentment of his mates sparring, of Steve obviously leaving himself open so that Tony can become more confident, of Tony immediately showing concern whenever he happens to nick Steve. And then all at once, it’s over. Tony gets overly confident, and in his confidence he gets sloppy. Steve teaches him a lesson by clashing their swords together and then swinging his around in a circle, hooking his foot behind Tony’s ankle so he topples over with a yelp at the same time his sword goes flying across the sand. Steve follows him to the ground, crouching over him with a triumphant grin. “I win,” he says, breathless from exertion. Tony stares up at him, apparently still too stunned from the sudden loss. “Oh.” “Do you remember what you promised me if I won?” Steve asks softly. Bucky stands up straight, wondering if he should leave them to their intimate moment. Then Steve shoves Tony’s shirt up and blows a raspberry against his stomach. Tony shrieks and jerks away, laughing, then can’t help but let out a giggly wail as Steve’s fingers dance up his side. “Steve! Steve, nooo!” “You promised me I could leave you flushed and panting,” Steve continues, grinning. “Steeeve!” Tony wails again, laughing, and scrabbles uselessly at the sand. All at once, he sees Bucky lingering in the doorway, and he shrieks, “Bu--Bucky! Help! Steve is--hahaha!--he’s--Aaaahhh!” “Why should I help you instead of Steve,” Bucky asks, raising an eyebrow, unable to help a smile. “You look pretty good like this.” “He-he-help meee!” Tony squeals, and then shrieks again when Steve darts in to blow a raspberry to the back of his neck. Bucky, helpless in the face of his mates’ careless joy, allows himself to be drawn in, taking pity on the helpless omega by tickling Steve’s side exactly where he knows he’s sensitive and laughing when he squeals like Tony had. In the end, they all end up flushed and panting, and Bucky watches as Steve carefully tips Tony’s head so he can capture his lips in a kiss, until Tony is mewling and his chest is heaving for entirely different reasons. He’s slightly surprised when Tony turns to him after the kiss is broken, but leans in gamely, kissing him slow and soft until Steve shoves at him and says that they’ll be late for breakfast if they don’t stop soon. Tony decides they’re going to be late for breakfast.

[patchoulimademoiselle]

Guilty. (Part 6.)

Part Six.

Steve Rogers (Lawyer AU) x Reader Insert. 

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: A bit of angst, Steve is an asshole at dinner and you make a hard decision. 

Notes: I missed last weeks update, so here it is. I’ll be posting on Friday as well. Sorry that this is a bit shorter than the other parts, this was just the right place to end it. 

Masterlist.

Part Six:

When James let's you into his apartment, he and Steve dive into conversation like old frat brothers. You on the other hand remain distracted, a blonde haired blue eyed someone has his hand on your thigh under the table, an innocent placement that would look more friendly than anything if someone else were to see it.

But you know the difference.

You can feel his restraint, muscles taught as he holds himself back from doing anything inappropriate. But all you can think of is where that hand was minutes before, and nothing they talk about proves to be more interesting than that. His jaw ticks ever so slightly, the only indication that he doesn't really care about the words coming out of his mouth. He gestures with his other hand, speaking so vividly that you can almost see the words rather than hear them.

Almost.

Because then his eyes land on you, along with the other set across the table, and you realize that now was a bad time to space out.

"What?"

He has the nerve to smile, hand squeezing you gently before retreating entirely, and you almost whine at the loss.

"Not so bright, is she?" Steve jokes, and the glare you give him is far from playful. What the hell are you doing?

Bucky scoffs from across the table, eyebrows high in disbelieve of the exchange he's seeing, and you're pretty sure you know what he's thinking. "I would hope she is, she's working with you on my case after all." Bucky reaches for his glass of water, and you can tell it's only in an attempt to relieve the tension in the room.

"Only where it counts." The smile Steve gives you is large, all teeth and sarcastic, and you aren't sure what his angle is. "He asked what your opinion is on how I'm leading the case."

Is this a power play? Here, now? In front our your client?

You grind your teeth, crossing your legs and sitting up before looking over at Bucky, who wears a small smirk on his face at your expense. "My opinion is that it's the best shot we have at winning your case at all." You say honestly. "I hope you understand Mr. Stark himself had nothing to do with this, and that it is Zeke Stane who we will be facing in court. He has been making moves under the table to buy Stark out of the company for years. The proof we have of the fraudulent claims he is making against you is the only way we can outsmart his lawyers."

You feel like you're on the stand right now, being drilled by two different men with two different perspectives. One knows you are right, and is only trying to see how well you can prove yourself. The other has no idea what to expect from you, and is blindly assuming that you know what you're doing. Steve is trying to embarrass you, Bucky is trying to simply understand.

"From a lawyers perspective, that makes perfect sense." Bucky plays with his glass. "But you aren't trying to prove it to the opposing side, you're trying to prove it to a jury, everyday people who are selected at random, and perhaps in Stark's pocket." Bucky holds up his hands, "Sorry, Zeke's pocket."

Steve nods, clearing his throat. "That's why we want to call and eye witness to the stand. Either Stark himself will have to testify, or an eye witness named Natasha Romanoff." Steve explains. "She's a former lawyer who worked closely with Tony Stark, and gave us some vital information we will be using against Zeke at the trial."

Bucky sighs, shoulders slumping, and your heart aches at the sight of it. "This whole thing feels rigged, and the fact that this is all on chance alone doesn't help ease my mind." He admits. "I was hoping you would come here with good news," His eyes zero in on you, and your breath catches in your throat, "But all I'm hearing is possibilities."

It's a coin game, head or tails, no real certainty of who is going to win, the only odds you have in your favor are chance, the probability that there's an option for the jury to decide with you at all. This is all you have to offer, just the basic knowledge that as long as you present something, there's a chance the jury will vote in favor of it.

"It's what we have." Steve is collected as always, brave faced when he needs to be. "When we have a statement prepared from our witness, we'll let you know."

To put it simply, dinner does not go smoothly. The daunting words Bucky left you with haunt you the entire time, and Steve simply ignores you for the sake of being good company. It's not until you leave that he finally addresses it, his hand catching your hip as he sits on the hood of his car, eyes dark and gleaming against the moonlight as he looks up at you.

He's probably going to scold you for loosing your cool, and you're probably going to scold him for trying to embarrass you. It all comes down to who speaks first.

"I can't believe you-"

"You know better-"

Both at once, and then silence. His eyebrows furrow, and you sigh, pulling your bag from off of your shoulder and depositing it in his hands, you dig through your toiletries for a cigarette. He lets you take a step back, the small flame from your lighter illuminating your features in the dark. It's concerning how often you've been reaching for them.

It's then that he speaks again, a small puff of smoke leaving your mouth. "You know better than to let your feelings get involved."

You scoff, looking up at the night sky as if it will crack open and give you an answer. It doesn't, and your eyes turn back on him in a glare. "Why did you put me on the spot like that?" The weight of the cigarette between your fingers feels heavy, a burden of your inability to function without chaos slapping you in the face as you go in for another drag, holding the smoke in your lungs as you speak again. "I got you your lead, I let you do all the talking, and you throw me under the bus as a thank you?"

It's Steve's turn to sigh, holding his fingers out, and you place your cigarette between them.

"I need him to trust me." He says. "I need him to trust me to lead the case, and the only way I can do that is by dimming the spotlight on you."

You aren't even sure what that means, crossing your arms over your chest as you wait for him to explain, cigarette tucked between his lips, the picture of pure sin as he tilts his head up to release the smoke straight up into the air.

"Bucky doesn't think with his head, he's been thinking with his dick." Steve is blunt enough to say, placing your purse beside him on the hood of the car. "He asked you to come over for dinner, and asked you what your opinion was on our lead. He favors you, and if I'm going to lead the case I need him to trust my judgment."

Just like you thought, it was all a power play, all a show to prove his dominance over you, to prove that he wears the pants and he runs the operation. It feels like a slap to your face, even though it shouldn't matter to you, Steve finds triumph in your embarrassment, and it makes you feel belittled not only as a lawyer but as a person.

"So you mock my intelligence in front of our client?" You question. "You mock my credibility as a lawyer in front of the man paying me to represent him in court?"

Perhaps he didn't see it from your perspective, because his jaw goes slack and his eyes glaze over with what you can identify a guilt. Or concern.

When you reach back in for your turn with the cigarette, he grabs your wrist, pulling you down to his eye level. "It's nothing personal." He says, "It's just how the game is played." You roll your eyes and try to tug yourself free from his grip, but when it doesn't budge, you realize he's looking at you with an entirely different expression now. Lust, desire, red hot and burning you alive when his eyes flick down to your lips, "Besides, if you knew what I knew, you wouldn't be complaining."

You did all the hard work, you risked everything to bring him the information he has, and now he's risking your credibility to boost his ego? You aren't exactly listening to him at this point, lost in thought rather than his words, but your responses are automatic, "What do you know?"

He hums, pulling you just a little closer, your heels scuff on the parking lot pavement as you shuffle forward, between his open legs, his hand reaching up to cup your jaw. "I know that Bucky Barnes is a dirty man," He says, lips only centimetres from yours. "I know that if you came here alone tonight, he would have tried to fuck you."

His words shock you back into focus, and he only nods at your expression. "I know because he was looking at you the way I look at you," He says. "And the dress I picked out for you didn't exactly help either, did it?" His finger hooks on the thin strap on your shoulder, tugging you down into a kiss. It's quick and chaste, his intent isn't to seduce you, but to reassure you. "But I wasn't going to let that happen. That's why I did what I did, to show him that I'm not stupid, and neither are you."

"You prove to him that I'm not stupid, by telling him I'm stupid?"

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue at you. "It was only to confirm that I'm leading the case, that you're loyal to me." He says. "It eliminates the probability of him trying something."

Of him....trying something? You never saw James as a threat, and never considered that he would try to make a move on you. But you also didn't think Steve was the jealous type, making a show for all the right reasons, just executing it the wrong way.

It's hard being a women in your line of work.

It almost makes you more upset, the fact that this was all a dick measuring contest, Steve needing to prove himself not only to you, but to Bucky as well. Not to mention Bucky, did he really see you as nothing more than a good fuck? Did he not take you seriously as a lawyer, only feeding into it for a chance to have sex with you? It's suffocating, and his gaze suddenly becomes too much, his grip suddenly feels too tight, his advances feel unwelcomed, and for the second time, you tug your wrist in an attempt to free yourself.

He lets you. "You're upset." Not a question, but you can tell by the look on his face that he wants a response.

"I'm overwhelmed." You admit, "The past few days have been rough."

Between this case and the emotional roller coaster that Steve has put you on, you feel just about ready to break. That doesn't make you weak, that doesn't make you emotional, it makes you human. You're running off just hours of sleep, the only thing keeping you on your feet was caffeine that is now burnt out. You haven't had a home cooked meal in what feels like years, eating takeout and fast food for every meal. The hangover you had this morning doesn't help either, your entire body thrown off.

The conversation you had with Natasha floats through your head, your presence a ghost in the shell of your body as you recall her advice. All of your benefits come with commitment, that's what she said, and as far as you're concerned, Steve Rogers isn't committed to you. He's committed to the job.

You watch as he stands, shrugging out of his suit jacket. He tries to drape it across your shoulders, but you dodge his attempt, ducking under his arm to take his place where he stood in front of the car. He clucks his tongue at you, annoyed, but patient as he tries a second time. You let him, his fingertips brushing across the skin on your shoulders as he bundles you up, eyes swimming with.....you can't quite place it.

"Stop trying to butter me up." You say. "We need to talk."

He too looks stressed out, rubbing a hand down his face. He hasn't had any sleep either, or at least that's what you gather from his sudden lack of energy.

"What did you promise Stark for those files?"

"I already told you, he just wants us to keep his name out of this." You tell him for a second time. "But, Natasha did tell him we were fucking. We have dirt on each other now, I went to his house and met his wife, he has a daughter, he just wants this to go away."

He lets out a sound of disbelief, a light puff of air rather than a laugh. "You really are too reckless, our faces could be plastered on tabloids as we speak."

You shrug, "Would that be the worst thing in the world?"

Even his smile looks tired, lip barely twitching.

"I guess not."

There's something unspoken between you, something dancing along the line of confessions and commitment. You can see it in his eyes. He's done. The chase isn't thrilling anymore, or at least not as thrilling as you. The heat in his gaze is like flames licking your skin and once again his fingers gab you, pulling you close, nose brushing your cheek as he whispers in your ear. "Don't do anything like that again. Do you understand?"

He must mean you acting without him, or it could be getting drunk alone, coming in to work hung over, a number of things on the list of don't do. There's a very fine line of what he does and doesn't tolerate, and it feels like you have to constantly dance between the two in order to keep his attention.

But the point he's trying to make is lost on you, the feeling of his hands traveling down your waist distracts you from the words coming out of his mouth.

Your mind is racing, too much is happening too fast, too many plot twists and turns that are overwhelming your brain. Bucky, Stark, Natasha, you feel like you're letting them all down, failing at your job as a lawyer even though you have guidance.

Gently, you remove his hands, taking a step back. "This is unprofessional." Your voice sounds weal even to your own ears, but you don't back down. "Take me home."

"Y/n-"

"Just take me home, please."

Your voice sounds distant, it makes his expression drop. But he doesn't say anything else, walking to the passenger side of the car and holding the door open or you.

The drive is silent, he doesn't even play the radio as he drives through the city to take you home. you don't mind it, but it does give you time to think.

You didn't mean to have a small breakdown, you did admit you were overwhelmed, but he kept pushing. There's but so much a person can take, sleepless nights and early mornings, one too many has finally caught up with you, and the way he touches you doesn't help. You only hope it doesn't change the way Steve sees you as a lawyer.

He wouldn't judge you, right?

You're not quite sure yet, but if the way he's gripping the steering wheel is anything to go off of, you can tell he's pissed off about it. Seeing him pissed off pisses you off, because what does he have to be upset about?

"You used me tonight." You say over the soft silence. "You dressed me up pretty and used me as bait to get Barnes to eat out of our palms." The gesture you had thought so hard about, the attentive way he kissed your shoulder, it was just to ease your suspicions. You felt used, hurt, which is exactly why you have to do this. 

"It won't happen again."

It doesn't need to, it only needed to happen once.

This won't be the end of it. It's just a new chapter, a turned page in the dynamic you share. You're no longer his arm candy, no longer a pretty faced right hand, no longer his little assistant. You're partners, and it's about time you start holding up your end of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Guilty Masterlist. 

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[the-mad-starker]

Starker Fic: Untitled Royalty AU

So I was looking through my old drafts and this one was from June 2018 when I just started exploring Starker. Before that, I was writing for MCU ships and HP, and I've decided to post this because it's been two years since it was written and it feels like a whole other person wrote it. I think my writing style has changed? And I'm not entirely sure if it's for the better haha

Just felt like sharing, this is more of a tease and I doubt I'll ever get more in since I feel like my writing has changed 

WC: 1500

Summary:

Royalty AU. Tony is the King, Peter is his manservant. Tony is clearly in power and Peter has no choice but to obey his king.

Obadiah Stane insists that it is time for the beloved King Anthony Stark to marry. For Tony, who has rarely involved himself in the politics besides wearing the crown, that means no more parties, no more lovers being brought into his bed.

But to distract the golden goose from seeing its cage, Stane gives the king a pretty new toy, a new manservant named Peter to satisfy all his needs while the search for a suitable partner begins. But Peter, despite being low born, is the catalyst, the change that wakes Tony from the beautiful dream that Stane created.

💗💗💗

The weight of the crown was settled on Anthony Edward Stark’s head at an early age. It was much too heavy and so, the late King’s advisor and trusted friend took some of the burden from the young prince’s shoulders.

In time, King Anthony Stark’s worries became less and less. He was free to pursue his passions, following the footsteps of his father. As an inventor, Anthony Stark brought to life all these marvelous and terrible creations on paper. Weapons the world had never seen.

And his hands, the hands of a blacksmith even with a crown upon his brow, forged into creation these great and terrible monstrosities.

The Kingdom of Stark flourished from its King’s dreams, bringing in fortune and security to the country. King Stark sat on his throne and by his side, his ever faithful advisor whispering into his ears of all the adorations paid upon him by his people.

The people of Stark who cherished the beloved son of late King Howard, the Iron Prince, and now they loved and adored him as their king.

It seemed to the king that his life would continue in this fashion, days filled with busy hands… Nights full of drinks and beautiful men and women while his dreams shaped the outlines of things yet to come.

It was a good life and as Tony laughed and drank on the commemoration of his birth some thirty or so years later. Tony didn't think he needed more in life. His kingdom was flourishing and his passion for creation was being exercised daily.

Yes, life was a good thing. So it came as a surprise when Obadiah spoke to him after the celebrations.

At the prime age of 35, Tony had yet to marry or sire a child. The years had passed quickly after his parents death and now, years later… this.

“We’ve held this off long enough,” Obadiah said sternly. He was stiff with wariness, expecting a fight with the Iron King for his next advisement. “The people are getting restless. With no prince or princess to succeed you, they grow more concerned every year.”

Tony sighed but his shoulders slumped in defeat. Truly, being able to avoid marriage for so long was simply a miracle. Many princes and princesses were betrothed by birth or if not that, at least an early age.

Stane had told Tony that his mother, the late Queen Maria, had wanted to wait until his majority to speak to him about marriage. And they had died a few short months before Tony turned 21.

That was the loophole that had given Tony years of borrowed time. But now that time was up, the last grains of sand trickling down the hourglass.

“I’m guessing you have a list of names for me then…?” Tony’s eyes were fixed on his hands, noting every single scar and callous that decorated them. His hands were not a nobleman’s hands, not smooth and unblemished, no. His hands were scarred and marked from his love of creating.

“I do,” Stane confirmed. “We’ll need to go over it soon. But for now… I'm sorry to say it, but I can't stress enough how important it is that your… proclivities must cease.”

Tony raised a brow in question.

“No more… dallying with others,” Stane said bluntly. “It's a miracle that we don't have any bastards running around. But it is what it is, so if the King of Stark is going to be looking for another king or queen to match, we can’t have any scandals reaching the ears of your potential partners.”

Tony’s lips quirked up. “You're asking me to abstain?”

Stane’s eyes narrowed at the smiling prince. “Yes, to put it bluntly, my King.”

“God, Obbie,” Tony laughed, a bit bitter. His days would be bereft of lovers, of soft skin and hungry kisses all because of his duty. Marriage and then children.

A heavy hand clasped his shoulder. The older man led Tony back to his room, mindful of how much drink the King had for his birthday.

Tony was only a little buzzed, but he didn't mind his old friend’s help.

“Now, Tony, please. I never ask you for anything. You know I don't, but I need this from you,” Obadiah insisted.

That was a lie. Obadiah often asked him for approvals, for his designs. Year after year, the demands would grow with more specifications but Tony would do better. No matter the requirements, Tony’s brilliant mind would come up with even better proposals. But that was the business of keeping his kingdom prosperous, his people secured against threats. It was the only thing Tony could do when his parents were murdered on route to a peaceful envoy.

So instead of bringing all that up, Tony just leaned heavily on Obadiah, giving a weary sigh. “I know, Obie.”

Besides. Despite never wanting to settle down, marriage was still sacred to Tony. His parents had had a strong marriage and despite all the flaws his father had, Queen Maria had loved him, flaws and all. Tony would be lucky if he could find someone even willing to put up with his eccentricity.

They reached his doors. There were guards positioned outside, giving Tony a bow before opening the doors.

“Now, I know I'm asking a lot of you,” Obadiah began once they were inside.

Tony had thought the matter concluded. He paused in undoing his outfit, throwing Obadiah a inquisitive look.

“That's why I got you a little present,” Obadiah smiled, a dark, almost indecent grin. It looked so out of place on his not-Uncle’s face that Tony thought that surely, the alcohol was playing tricks on him.

Even so, Tony replied with a huff of laughter. Obadiah giving Tony “little” gifts weren't unusual, the man always acted like a second father to him.

“You didn't have to,” Tony always had to say in response to such comments but of course, Obadiah waved it away.

“Come, come,” Obadiah urged, grasping him by the shoulder. Tony moved with him, his gait a little compromised but he didn't falter in his steps.

“You're taking me to my bedroom,” Tony observed then gave a wry laugh. “You better not have gotten me a courtesan, Obie.”

The older man didn't reply, didn't need to. As soon as they entered, Tony found out for himself what the present was.

Tony’s mouth went dry, head filling with confusion and indecent things. On his bed, there was a boy. No, the boy was a young man, though just barely. Lithe and slender, with skin that was the pale color of milk. Beautiful really, with such soft brown waves in his hair. His lips were soft looking and plush, such a lovely color of pink that Tony wondered for a moment if someone had painted them. But the thought was quickly dismissed as white teeth pressed down in a show of nerves. The young man was beautiful… Breathtaking But his eyes… Tony’s heart plummeted. That wasn't desire or anticipation. The young man in his bed was terrified. Large brown eyes with the longest dark lashes Tony had ever seen. And he was trembling, the blankets wrapped around his shivering form like the most inadequate shield ever made. But when stripped of his clothes and forced into a bed not of his own choosing, what else could the young man do? All hazy, lust filled thoughts disintegrated in a second. It was the most effective cure to his tipsy state. It felt like Tony had been dunked into a freezing cold lake. “What is this?” Tony demanded softly. Another friendly clap on his shoulder, Obadiah’s gruff voice sounding pleased to Tony’s ears. “This is my gift to you,” Obadiah announced proudly, “Your new manservant. Peter.”

Tony’s eyes remained fixed on the boy. He saw the way Peter flinched when he heard the title, the dirty suggestion in the title manservant.

“You can do anything you want with him, Tony,” Obadiah confided in him. “You've been needing one.”

“I don't need one,” Tony said dejectedly. Tony was more the inventor than King and the period of wakefulness were off and erratic. He wasn't going to wait for a manservant to dress him, not when his clothing would be stripped off in his lab anyway.

Obadiah’s grip tightened down, just a touch harder. “I know it won't be enough compared to having a new companion every night, but I'm giving you an out here, Tony. Use the boy, don't get caught fucking or getting fucked by others.”

The tone was firm, a no questions asked kind of tone that left Tony speechless.

“This is my gift, Tony,” Obadiah said a bit more gently. “I wouldn't ask you to abstain, I'm not out to hurt you, boy. But Stark needs this marriage and if the only way I can keep you from offending your potential prospects, then I'll do it.”

With no response from Tony, Obadiah took it as acceptance. With another friendly clap, Obadiah called out to Tony as he left, “Have a good night, Tony!’

The door shut behind him and then it was just the two alone. The King of Stark and a young man, his future bedmate.

[hawkbucks]

Y’all like SteveTony? Good! So do I! Here are some of my absolute favorite fics ever written for the pairing. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do, and don’t forget to kudos and/or comment :D 

(There are so many soulmate fics here. So many.) 

All-Time Low by Sineala Rating: E Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 12060 Summary: Tony's lost his company to Obadiah Stane. He's lost it all: his money, his friends, his Avengers team... and his sobriety. Drunk, homeless, Tony is living on the streets, and when he runs out of liquor money, he sells the only thing he has left: his body. And one day, he has the exact wrong customer.

All That You Love, All That You Hate by laireshi�� Rating: T Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 25106 Summary: Director Stark is happily married to Steve Rogers. They have no secrets from each other, and quite a lot from the world—mainly that Steve Rogers is really The Captain, an infamous villain.

Unfortunately, the truly important secrets rarely stay hidden, and when Steve's identity gets revealed, Tony will do anything to keep them both safe.

He's a hero, but it might mean crossing a line that a villain would never even approach.

Amor Fati by citsiurtlanu Rating: T Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 15712 Summary: Tony Stark has always known what the words on his wrist are supposed to lead to. What he's never known is who the words are for. 

Bereavement by nightwalker Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 3786 Summary: She sets her clipboard down on her lap and folds her hands over it. “I am very sorry for your loss, Agent Rogers.”   

colours by laireshi Rating: T Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 1330 Summary: Steve draws in charcoal, sometimes thinking of how it would be to see colours. Everyone’s heard the legends, myths, stories; every person who’s found their soulmate has exclaimed in wonder, looking around. But it’s not something that could be described.

He doesn't see it for himself, not until he meets Iron Man. 

Convention Exclusive by Sineala Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 5545 Summary: "I'm interested in commissioning a sketch," Iron Man said. He leaned forward, edging into Steve's personal space, splaying his gauntleted hands on the table. "I'd like you to draw me wearing only a tiny thong, with Captain America staring at my nearly-naked body in horror."

(Or: Steve Rogers, former artist for the Captain America comics, is signing autographs at a comics convention when he meets his biggest fan. Not an AU.)

Dispel by faite, laireshi  Rating: T Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 3918 Summary: Steve is hit with a love spell, but he doesn't want it undone: he loves Tony and he's never been happier.  

Follow in Your Footsteps by Sineala  Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 6788 Summary: When Tony is twelve, his soulmate's name appears on his wrist. Unfortunately, it's hard to find out anything at all about Steve Rogers.It turns out there's a reason for that. 

for none of them would save him by laireshi  Rating: T Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 3288 Summary: “I'm dead, in your timeline,” Tony said, not a question.

Steve shrugged, quiet and broken. “Everyone is.”

Hard Reset by Kiyaar Rating: T  Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 8798 Summary: “You used me,” Steve says, like he expected better.

“What are you going to do about it?” is all Tony ends up saying, pathetic and petulant and tired, though Steve has only ever recognized it as arrogance.

“Now?” Steve says, as if there will be a later. “Now, I’m going to beat you bloody.”

Hide Your Love Away by Sineala Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 33514 Summary: Tony has suspected for a long time that the soulmark on his chest matches Steve's -- but he's never told Steve about it. And then it's too late to tell Steve anything at all ever again. In the wake of Steve's death, the Skrull invasion, and Norman Osborn's rise to power, the identity of his soulmate is just one of the many things Tony cuts out of his memory forever.

When Tony returns to consciousness, he's forced to deal with the aftermath of a war he no longer remembers fighting, not to mention a Steve Rogers who can barely stand to be in the same room with him. Surely the last thing Tony could ever need in his life is more amnesia. But that's what he gets. And Tony's new missing memory just might be the key to finding out the truth of his soulmark... as well as his chance to make things right once and for all.

Nothing Pure Enough by Sineala Rating: M Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 2623 Summary: You shouldn't be able to develop a Hanahaki fixation on someone you've never met who's been dead for decades. But Tony has always been special.  

now that we have seen each other by Mizzy Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  Word Count: 5235 Summary: Steve's crush on Iron Man seemed to him to be much more reasonable than his crush on Tony Stark. A meeting with some identical Avengers from another reality raises some important identity questions, though, and with their shattering revelations in tow, will Steve's heart survive this experience?

Secrets of a Successful Marriage by valtyr  Rating: M Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 24118 Summary: Tony Stark lives a double life; he's secretly the supervillain known as Iron Man. But his loving husband Steve has a few secrets of his own, as Tony is about to discover.  

Slipping off the Page into Your Hands by Sineala  Rating: M  Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  Word Count: 68149 Summary: Soulmates have their first words to each other written on their wrists. This should make it easy. For Steve and Tony, it is anything but. Steve's problem is that the future he has awoken into is nothing he was ever expecting: he has a soulmate now. Who might be a robot. And if his soulmate is Iron Man, how can he be so attracted to Tony Stark? It should be impossible. Tony's problem is that he is Iron Man, his soulmate is a man whom he in no way deserves, and he is going to fight everything in his heart and do his best to make sure Steve never, ever finds out the whole truth.

The Truth of It Is by nightwalker Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 635 Summary: You can't lie to your soulmate, everyone knows that. Tony's always thought it was just hype until he tries to sass Steve and the words freeze in his throat.

Think of This as Solving Problems (That Should Never Have Occurred) by Sineala Rating: T  Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 35216  Summary: No one knows Tony is Iron Man. Then Tony gets amnesia, and literally no one knows Tony is Iron Man.

Fake It by laireshi Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 1159 Summary: “Is it true you and Captain America are dating?” the journalist asked.

Tony gave her his most charming smile. “Captain America likes to keep his life private,” he said. “But he knew who I was when he kissed me.” Another fake, wide smile. “We’re very happy.”

Veridicality by Sineala  Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 2480 Summary: When Steve is accidentally exposed to a truth serum, Tony learns that Steve has been keeping a lot of feelings hidden.

A Certain Affinity by miobambiino Rating: T Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 14956 Summary: "They were like that a lot nowadays, ever since they got back from their little kidnapping escapade. Sure, they’d been close before then - they all had - but now… it was different. They were close, close. Squishing up next to each other, whispering to one another, playing with each others hair, apparently.

Steve inwardly grimaced at himself. He was being bitter and petty, he knew that. But he couldn’t figure out why, though. His teammates were getting along, which is only a good thing. Especially considering how they started things off way back on the helicarrier. But since when were Tony and Nat this cosy?"

Aka Steve is jealous of Tony and Nat's friendship, gets the wrong idea, and requires a little help from Nat herself to get some well-needed perspective.

And Then There’s You by someonelsesheart  Rating: T Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 5933 Summary: And it’s funny that they’re like this, isn't it, because there's Tony, too-clever and too-fast, always having to be moving, selfish and desperate and cruel, and then there’s Steve with his kindness, his slow smile and his patience, selfless and calm and kind to everything and everyone. They’re fire and ice, good and bad, and somehow, somehow, it works.

Or, Steve Rogers teaches Tony Stark how to love, one year at a time.

Be No Stranger (All Your Saints and Soldiers Remix) by jibrailis Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 5973 Summary: That's the twenty-first century love song, baby. Glitz and glamour and every one of us is a liar.   

finding my way back to you by theappleppielifestyle Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 7266 Summary: Ten minutes after a botched attempt at proposing to Tony, Steve is thrown back in time.

Lost Together by FestiveFerret Rating: E Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 67977 Summary: Being trapped in a horrible world where some things are like home, and some things are terrifyingly not, is bad enough. But when it becomes clear that the people here come in pairs - and unpaired people are a threat - Steve and Tony are forced to pretend that they're a pair too, if they ever want to make it home alive.  

The Spaces (Silences) Between by missbecky Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 4159 Summary: A sudden accident leaves Tony unable to speak.

Thumb, Index, and Pinky Extended by Eudoxia  Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 4848 Summary: Tony Stark is twenty-one when he loses his voice. It shouldn't matter, but in a world where the first words your Soulmate says to you are marked on your skin, it can be pretty damn annoying.

A Thousand Kisses Deep by laireshi  Crossover Between: Earth-616 & Earth-1610 Rating: M Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  Word Count: 3547 Summary: Steve doesn't seem too happy when Steve Rogers of Marvel Ultimate gets transported into their universe. He seems even less happy when Tony and the new Steve get closer to each other.

Imperfect Mirrors by Sineala Crossover Between: Earth-616 & Earth-199999 Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 9181 Summary: Two months since Ultron. Two hours since the mindwipe. Things haven't been going well for Tony Stark lately, in two different universes. But they just might be able to help each other out.

Did I forget a link? Did I link to the wrong story? Any other mistakes? Message me and I’ll fix it ASAP! 

Please read all tags for the stories I have linked! 

Happy reading! 

[naferty]

stevetony fic recs!!!! please!!!!!

Oh no there's just so many to choose from!! So many wonderful stony fics from so many wonderful authors. This is hard. Don't do this to me 😭😭

I hope you enjoy these just as much as I do!! 

(topTony and bottomSteve are also included)

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What Lies Inside by Penumbren

     When the Avengers discover Captain America in the Arctic sea, they find more than just a new team member: Tony Stark discovers his fated mate. The problem is, Steve Rogers is a man out of his own time and apparently straight, and Tony's not about to force anything on the man he loves--even if it means his own death. Besides, Tony's spent his entire life keeping secrets. How can he possibly tell Steve that he's really Iron Man, let alone a werewolf?

Birds of a Feather by LoquitorLatinae 

     Tony only ever wanted to be an Alpha with bright feathers, a huge wingspan, and attitude. But he was an Omega, and while he still has the attitude, his lot in life as dictated by society leaves a lot to be desired. But he was Tony Stark, and he wasn’t going to let anything get in his way—though he wouldn’t necessarily be against the company of a certain Alpha Capsicle.

Killing Monsters in the Rain by snoozingkitten

     Tony is a werewolf in name only, he’s also a genius and a playboy and the Lord of the house of Stark. When he’s forcibly reminded of his heritage by a crash landing in the East River Forest things go a bit differently than he’d expect. Fantasy AU

Man Out of Time by samptra

     Closing dark eyes he tried to center his wildly gyrating thoughts. “This isn’t happening this isn’t real…” he wacked his head a few more times, “I did not go through a weird tear in the air again. There was no crazy terreract driven machine…and I defiantly did not go back in time.” This was all some sort of dream he was having a nightmare one that he’d awake from in his bed, in Avengers Tower, in the year 2013.

That Has Such People by samptra

     Captain Tony Stark has found himself in a strange time and place. Billionaire, genius Steve Rogers has no idea what to do with a man from the past. Together perhaps they can teach each other a little about the past and future.

Dulce et Decorum est by samptra

     Badly wounded in Afghanistan Lieutenant Tony Stark had been deemed unfit for combat. His life now stretching before him a bleakly; a company he wants nothing to do with, a legacy he can barely tolerate, and a life he never wanted. Until he’s given the chance to be something he never imagined; a superhero.

Thumb, Index, and Pinky Extended by Eudoxia

     Tony Stark is twenty-one when he loses his voice. It shouldn't matter, but in a world where the first words your Soulmate says to you are marked on your skin, it can be pretty damn annoying.

Living In The Future by Closer

     Eighteen-year-old Tony Stark is the boy genius who woke Captain America, and now he's stuck with him. That's not a bad thing, but between Steve's wide-eyed wonder at the new world and Tony's little fanboy crush, the awkwardness just keeps happening.

Engaging the Enemy by tsukinofaerii

     Iron Man is one of the more persistent villains that the Ultimates face, with a special fondness for one Captain America. As Steve starts to findout more and more about him, the lines between hero and villain begin to blur. Sometimes, you don't have to be on the right side of the law to be in the right.

The Tower of Yesterday by manic_intent

     Tony is the WWII hero waking up in the future. Iron Man Noir.

Got the Cream by YourFavoriteRobot

      Steve is coasting through life after leaving the army without making any real connections to anyone around him. Until a mischievous deity turns Steve's only friend, his cat Tony, into a human being.

Tony Stark and the Sentinel of Liberty: A Marvels Adventure by Sineala

     When Project Rebirth fails, leaving the super-soldier serum inert in his veins, Steve Rogers is forced to bid goodbye to his dream of defending his country -- at least, in the way he'd always envisioned it. But his prospects in that regard aren't entirely bleak: he takes a job as chronicler for Tony Stark, the former Marvels adventurer who now serves his country in his typical unorthodox style, hunting down mystical relics before the Nazis can find them. At Tony's side in the jungles of Peru, Steve discovers that the serum works after all -- but it works in ways he could never have imagined.

Not This Omega by Annehiggins

     With Stane dead, Tony has to find a mate or lose controlling interest in his company, so it's time to throw an omega ball. Tony has a plan, but doesn't count on the drug in his drink. Now he's stuck with a mate who doesn't seem all that into him. Based on this prompt in the avengerkink meme. Set it a world where no one, not even Pepper, knows Tony is Iron Man and the events of Iron Man 2 never happened.

Unknown Caller (do not engage) by gottalovev

     Steve had one job: exchange a couple of texts with a guy who thought he had Natasha's number, and let him down gently. It ends up being a lot more complicated than that.

A Little Too Not Over You by jay_girl88

     "Steve had experienced torture before. This was a cruel and unusual form of it."

Sometimes, you can't see what's right in front of you until it isn't there anymore.

Colour Me In Love by starksnack

     [5:12 AM] Hey so I know you modeled for me like two years ago, but I really liked the work we did and was wondering if we could get together for coffee and talk about your possible participation in my upcoming project. Please let me know when you’re available. - SR

Tony models for Steve.

Basically two idiots in love.

Parabol Series by chaoticcollectorchaos_me

     When a dead body is discovered, the Avengers become murder suspects.

Rockabye Verse by BladeoftheNebula

     Cute alphas didn’t appear out of nowhere to help ruined omegas. That was a widely accepted fact.

Tony Stark had always known his life wouldn’t be easy as a genius omega in an alpha’s world. But not even he predicted getting knocked up and forced to move to a small town in the middle of nowhere.

A Gentleman's Guide to Centaurs by BladeoftheNebula

     All of Marvyl is a-twitter when Captain Rogers comes to town and takes up residence at Brooklyn Hall.

A single alpha in possession of a large fortune is an interesting prospect for any unmarried omega - especially when he has hooves.

You Have Me by ShesLikeTexas

     Tony Stark is a twenty year old college student trying to get by after being cut off by his father. Enter: Art student Steve Rogers, otherwise known as "The Captain," one of the most powerful crime bosses in New York.

Home by Saber_Wing

     Desperately, he reached back and grasped for the carving knives on the block behind him, because damned if he was going down without a fight. Then the bilgesnipe's razor sharp teeth clamped down harder on Tony's leg, and this time, he heard something crack. All rational thought fled with it.

Tony's vision went white. He thought he might have screamed, but he couldn't be sure.

Oh god, it hurt. Fuck, fuck, fuck-

Thor really should learn to keep Bilgey in his room.

The Red String by masterlokisev159

     As Prince Anthony stands by the window and watches his kingdom burn, he can only hope and pray that the barbarians will be kind. After all, what good would it do to have more bloodshed after so many lives have been lost?

It is inevitable though. Whether he likes it or not, he is the prince, the son of the cruel and powerful King Howard. And princes such as he do not last long once their kingdom has been claimed.

Tony knows these will be his final hours. He knows the barbarian leader is coming for him.

He just prays it will be a quick and painless death.

Sweet on You by MiniRaven

     It’s the 1940’s and Tony is working as a Donut Doll for the Red Cross. His job is to go around to various military bases and offer comfort food and conversation to homesick soldiers. He’s come to expect a lot of things in this job, but he doesn’t expect to fall in love with Captain America, the hottest most awkward soldier Tony has ever met.

Clan (of the Stranger and the Outcast) by greymantledlady

     The Stranger holds out his huge hand towards Tony, palm outwards and upwards.

Tony watches him warily, baring his teeth a little, not yet a snarl but a warning. But the Stranger simply holds his hand there, waiting, waiting; and his knife is lying on the ground between them, and there is no threat in the lines of his body.

Tony lets out a little breath he’s been holding. And he’s trembling, but he slowly reaches his own hand out, tentative and uncertain, and brushes the fingertips against the Stranger’s calloused palm. And the Stranger smiles a little, his eyes soft, and wraps his fingers around Tony’s.

The Long Way Back (To You) by Pearl_Unplanned

     After mouthing off to the wrong God of Mischief, Steve and Tony find themselves stuck as a cat and mouse, respectively. Either they work together to get home without being picked off by one of the many everyday dangers like stray dogs, cars, rat poison and each other, or they die trying. And maybe they can just come to terms with how they really feel towards one another.

The Future is Now by Pearl_Unplanned

     After a villain's failed 'time machine' is used on Tony and Steve, it leaves them both far older than anyone had been expecting. Tony, unsurprisingly, is having trouble coping with it, especially since there's a chance it might be permanent. Steve, on the other hand, tries to make the best of the situation.

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I have plenty more but I think this is a good list. Enjoy!