#Peter when Tony cares equally about him the same way that he cares about his alter-ego; :0

[moritashie]

I HAVE A FIC IDEA vol#7

Tony is alive in this fic, just like in the actual canon.

When Peter first came to Strange, the spell worked nearly perfectly. Could've been something as simple as "hold up but what about x? They can't forget that I'm Spider-Man!" "Ok. We exclude X then. Anyone else? Just hurry, please" or "We can not make any more exceptions, Peter."

Peter makes an unimaginably rushed list consisting of May, Ned and MJ. Tony does not make it onto the list somehow. Maybe he is still in a coma, and Peter, not talking to him for about a year at this point, simply doesn't have enough time to think to add him to the list. Maybe he doesn't know Tony is alive. Maybe, when he wanted to, Strange refused, to stop himself from messing up the spell. Whatever floats your boat, man.

So, when Tony does contact Peter, he assumes, that he has two mentees. Peter, and Spiderman. (He would know if they were the same person, right?).

Chaos ensues.

[trashystarker]

pictures don't lie - a starker one shot

Title: Pictures Don't Lie Fandom: MCU Pairing: Starker (Tony Stark x Peter Parker) Rating: Mature (Modern Day AU - Angst and Feels - Angst with a Happy Ending - Mild NSFW) Word Count: 2,300 Summary: Tony gets caught doing something harmless, and suffers the repercussions of it.

A/N: Here's my next offering for @starkerfestivals summer bingo event! Please enjoy!

---

Red wine dripped off of Tony’s face, his shirt saturated with the beverage that had just been thrown on him. He watched Peter’s retreating form, his lover in clear distress, waving his hands around as he grabbed his keys off the table in the foyer of their shared apartment. He heard Peter yell a loud “Fuck you, Tony!” before storming out of their penthouse, slamming the door shut behind him. 

He reached for a napkin, taking a moment to wipe off the Merlot that had made his face sticky. It was fine. He knew that Peter was going to have a strong reaction to what he’d just told him, but it was better if he heard from him first, right? Tony sighed. Maybe not. Maybe it would have been better another way. 

“Friday - keep an eye on Peter tonight, okay?” He spoke to his AI, who he knew could hear him as he’d programmed the penthouse to always have her on hand. 

“Of course, boss. Did something happen?” Friday’s voice came through the speaker. 

“No.” He lied. Of course something had happened. Another fuck up of his in a long life of fuck ups. And here he’d thought that things had been going pretty well for both him and Peter.

Clearly, that was a mistake. 

The sun was setting on the isle of Manhattan, painting it in the beautiful colors of pink and orange, the skyline lighting up with nature’s beautiful symphony on full display. He left the dining room table and walked towards the balcony, pulling off his wine soaked shirt as he got closer to an escape. He dropped the shirt on the floor and went outside, needing to put space between him and the mess that had happened only twenty minutes ago. 

Things had gone well. Peter had come home after working a bit later in the office. That’s where he’d met him. Tony had hired the best to come out of MIT, and Peter had been the star graduate last year. He put him on a special project that had the two of them working side by side, and through daily interactions it became quite clear to Tony that he’d found his equal. His partner. The person he could trust his life with. 

Thankfully, Peter Parker had felt the same way, and two months after they began to work close together, he moved into Tony’s penthouse apartment. 

A soft sigh left Tony’s mouth as he gripped the railing of the balcony. His heart hurt. His head ached. His shoulders were too tight, and his stomach felt like it was going to regurgitate everything he’d eaten at dinner. Had it been in bad taste to save the important bits of conversation until the end of the meal? In hindsight, he knew that the answer was yes. 

The picture that had caused such a stir in his lover was still on the table, looking like a mocking portrait that could only cause harm to him and his own. Tony hated that there had been a miscommunication between the both of them. Peter had told him that all he wanted from him was honesty. And here Tony was, being as honest as he could be, and was getting screwed because of it. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Letting go of the cool railing, he pulled it out and felt tears begin to well up in his eyes. “I won’t be coming home tonight. Don’t ask me when I’m coming back. I don’t know. I won’t be at work tomorrow. Leave me be for a bit, Tony. Please.” 

Of course he was going to give Peter the space that he deserved. That was needed right now. But, Tony was stubborn. He didn’t want Peter to run away. Not when they could talk about this, and discuss what had happened. “Take care.” It was all he could muster up the courage to say to him, when everything inside of him was breaking apart. 

Walking back inside, he took a look at the photograph and the anger returned. He had done nothing wrong. He’d gone to see his ex, and while the photograph looked more incriminating than it truly was, a picture was worth a thousand words. And it was clear what those words were. 

Cheater. 

Liar. 

Destroyer of happiness. 

Tony had gone to see his ex after a text had been sent to him, requesting for a friendly meeting. Tony didn’t think it was going to turn into this big production, but once he saw this photograph he knew that it was going to ruin everything. One simple act of kindness - two old friends sharing what was only a friendly laugh but could be seen as something more - had taken away the one person he’d cared about the most and pushed him away. 

"I need to show you something.” Tony had said, as they were finishing up their pasta. “And you’re not going to like it.” 

“Why do you think that?” His young lover - younger by about twenty years - looked up at him, the smile he loved to see so much present on his face. “I can’t be mad at you, Tony. You know I love you.” 

“I know, sweetheart. But trust me, this is going to hurt. And please, believe me when I say that I had no intention of hurting you like this.” 

The smile started to slip off of Peter’s face. “Tony, you’re scaring me now. What’s going on?” 

He picked up the manila envelope that had been sitting on the table this entire time, and took the photograph out of it. He put it on the table, and saw Peter’s face begin to grow pale. “It isn’t how it looks.” 

“Bullshit.” Peter pointed at the picture. “That’s Pepper Potts, isn’t it?” 

“It is.” Tony had been open with Peter about his previous partners. Pepper had been someone he’d intended on making a life with, but things never worked out that way. Tony was actually glad that had happened, as it wouldn’t have brought Peter into his life. “But it’s like I said, it isn’t how it looks.” 

“She’s got her arms around you.” Peter kept staring at the image. “You’re laughing.” 

“I know.” 

“You never laugh like that.” 

He felt his stomach twist. “You know that isn’t true, Peter. I laugh with you like that often.” 

“Did you sleep with her?” 

“No.” 

“You’re lying.” 

“No, I’m not.” 

The chair Peter was sitting on scraped against the floor as he hastily stood up. Tony was about to say something when Peter picked up his glass of wine, and threw it on him. “Fuck you, Tony.” He heard the tears in Peter’s voice, whether they were from anger or sadness, Tony didn’t know. He watched him leave, and heard him grab his keys off the table. Another loud ‘fuck you’, and his lover was gone.

All because of one stupid moment captured on film, making it look like two old flames rekindling something that was no longer there. Tony knew that Peter had every right to have reacted the way he had. If he'd come across a picture of Peter with MJ like this, well….Tony knew how he would respond, and how Peter reacted was with more dignity than he was physically capable of. 

He went to his shared bedroom with Peter and went into their bathroom. He got into the shower, peeling off the rest of his clothes before doing so, needing to wash both the wine and his sadness off of his body. If this was the end between him and Peter, then fine. He’d make sure that Peter found a place to work at that could utilize both his talent and his charm to be a direct competitor to Stark Industries. He never meant to hurt him by spending time with his ex. It was a misunderstanding. 

But aren’t all break ups caused by a misunderstanding? At least, to one person they might be. To the other, it might be as plain as day why the relationship was coming to an end. Tonight, it seemed that Tony was aware of both sides, and had to accept it. 

Sleep was impossible. He stared up at the ceiling, feeling like utter death as the person that should be next to him was no longer there. He was tempted to ask Friday where he was, but decided that that might not be the wisest idea. For all he knew, Peter was getting revenge on him by sleeping with someone from his past. Wanting to even the score, even though there was no score to settle. 

The front door of the penthouse opened at close to three in the morning. Tony held his breath as he saw a shadow walk into the room. The air smelled like booze. Peter had gone drinking. He could smell the whisky on his breath from twenty feet away. He heard him sniffle, and then saw his shadow begin to take off his clothes. Tony kept his breath quiet, as he didn’t want Peter to know he was awake. But, it seemed his younger lover knew because as soon as he hit the bed, he crawled into Tony’s space and put his arms around him. 

Tony didn’t hesitate. He pulled Peter into a hug, letting him cry against his shoulder. “I didn’t cheat on you.” Tony whispered into his ear, as he heard Peter cry harder. “You’re the only person I want, Peter. No one else. Pepper is a distant memory. She’s a friend. Nothing more.” 

“Do you promise?” Peter’s voice cracked, as he pulled his head away from Tony’s shoulder and stared into his eyes. “I can’t do this again, Tony. I don’t like how this feels. I feel awful. I feel sick.” 

“That’s because you drank too much.” Tony tried to lighten the mood, his lip curled up in a half-smirk. “Did you get a fifth on sale?” 

“I went and hung out with Ned.” Peter returned his head to his shoulder, and exhaled a long sigh. “I need you to promise me what you’re saying is the truth.” 

He brought his hand up to Peter’s face, and wiped away a few tears from his cheek. “I promise, Peter. There is no one else. Only you.” 

“How do I know that?” 

“You have to trust me.” Tony knew that was a tall ask. “I trust you.” 

“I want to trust you, but I’m scared.” 

“Of what?” 

“You hurting me. Again.” A broken whisper came out of Peter’s mouth.

Lowering himself down to be face to face with Peter, he looked into his eyes and could see the tears still there. “I will probably hurt you, but not because it’s my intention. I’m human, Peter. I expect you to hurt me too, but what makes us stronger is when we talk about it. When we don’t run away from each other.” 

“I’m sorry.” Peter bit his lip. 

“Don’t be. You had every right to leave.” He brought his forehead to Peter’s, and took a deep breath. “You came home.” 

“I wanted to be with you. I needed to know that I was wrong.” 

“Be patient with me, Peter. You’re going to see things you may not want to see, but always know that you are the only person who has this.” He brought Peter’s hand to his chest. “No one else gets this. Only you. You’re the only person I’m in love with.” 

“Tony…” 

Peter kissed him first, Tony willingly letting him take control of the kiss with a deep groan. His arms slid around Peter’s naked body, pulling him to lay on top of him as their kiss continued to deepen. Peter’s tongue filled his mouth, making parts of his body sing for joy, while it healed the ache in both his head and his heart. He felt Peter roll his hips, pushing himself against his body, Tony welcoming the touch with another deep groan. 

“I love you.” He whispered into Peter’s ear, as his cock slid deep into his body, Peter’s soft moans now filling his ears. “I love you so much, Peter.” 

“I l-love you, Tony!” Peter cried out, his moans becoming louder. “Oh, God…” 

“Yes, sweetheart…” Tony knew that his lover was close. He reached between their bodies and began to pump his cock with his fist, his hips moving in an erratic pattern. 

“Tony!!” 

It was all he needed to hear. All he ever wanted to hear. Peter fell from his high as Tony brought him to an orgasm, the warmth of his hot seed flowing between his fingers as he pumped his cock through the bliss. Tony’s hips stuttered as a deep moan left his own mouth, thrusting deep inside for one final time as his own cock exploded, pouring his essence into Peter’s warm channel. 

After a quick clean up, Peter secured himself back in Tony’s arms. “I vote tomorrow be a do nothing day.” Peter yawned, as Tony’s fingers began to play with the curls on the back of Peter’s neck. 

“I think that’s an excellent plan.” Tony brushed his lips against Peter’s temple. “I’m sorry, Peter. Truly.” 

“I know, Tony. I’m sorry too.” Peter lifted his head, and kissed him on the lips. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

He waited for Peter to fall asleep before he allowed himself to drift off. He knew that this wouldn’t be the last time something like this happened, but he was for sure going to try to make sure it didn’t happen again. But he was only human, and sometimes made bad choices. Luckily, though, his lover had been the right choice. Peter Parker was his better half; always had been and always would be. That made Tony Stark the luckiest man on the planet. 

[ask-ursa-tonypeter]

[fic: double-blind] what might it look like if Peter had taken Extremis? What sort of personality traits, morals, abilities would be respectively amplified or suppressed? What might SIM!Tony and Extremis!Peter's relationship have looked like (would there be mutual attraction or would they hate each other, or something else)? What might non-Extremis Tony (meaning, he had never taken Extremis) and Extremis!Peter's relationship have looked like? And what would the relationship between post-Extremis Tony and Extremis!Peter look like, meaning that Tony has the knowledge and memory of what he/SIM Tony is capable of but no longer the capacity?

This is such a long and complicated meta question, so thank you for your time, whenever you get the chance to answer this!

[[🐻ursa interlude🐻

Extremis!Peter: hmmm well, like Tony's megalomania still filtered itself through the self-serving excuse of an "altruistic" desire to ~take care of people~ I think Peter would still want to be Spider-man and "help" people! But his intentions would become a lot more wrathful, with more focus on hunting down and "punishing" criminals than genuinely being about preventing/mitigating harm.

Basically, if faced with the classic "nyeheheh spider-man, you can either save allll these people and let me get away, or let them die and catch me!" situation, he would catch the villain rather than save the people, lmao. He would also be a lot more confident/self-assured as Peter as well as Spider-man– I think the outward changes would be a lot more obvious for him than Tony, just because Peter suddenly being a confident-to-the-point-of-arrogance live-out-loud type would be a much bigger shift!

SIM!Tony and Extremis!Peter: oh this is the ideal for SIM, haha. (And was his actual plan, though he wouldn't have anticipated the changes to Peter's personality– until he found out that Peter already had a healing factor as Spider-man, he was going to inject Peter with Extremis to keep him safe from the compound released into the water supply.)

Peter would have the same "everyone else is inferior 💖except my dad💖" mental loophole that Tony does about Peter, and he would totally buy the "short-term crime for long-term utopia" plan once they knew each other's identities! (I'd say that things would get potentially very nasty before that point, but honestly egotistical Extremis!Peter would probably not be nearly as careful about safeguarding his identity, so Tony would figure it out before they had the chance to fuck each other up too bad lmao.)

So following that… their mutual obsession with each other would dovetail very nicely, haha. SIM would 100% get his "ruling the world from the shadows with my son-lover-queen at my side" fantasy and they would have a great time. There might be some bumps in the beginning when Peter's own ego rankled under Tony's paternalism but if anything I think Tony would come around to seeing this version of Peter as a legitimate equal, so they would get it sorted out pretty quickly. Happily ever after in awful toxic tooth-rotting villainous love!

Extremis!Peter and normal Tony: WOOF. Well, again, I think Tony would figure out Spider-man's identity pretty quickly, since even as non-Iron Man he would have reason to be curious about the vigilante causing just as much collateral damage as he was fixing, and he would have already noticed the changes in Peter's behavior.

Their interactions would be a mess. Peter would initially be enthusiastic about Tony knowing (because he wouldn't think he was doing anything wrong, obvs!) and would be disappointed and put out when Tony was horrified instead. I could see things going a couple different ways– Peter begrudgingly agreeing to be more careful if it would smooth things over with his dad, Peter forcing the point by challenging Tony on what he was actually going to do to stop Peter if Peter refused to change his ways (I don't know the answer to that question and neither would Tony lmao,) Tony cottoning on quickly that something had to have changed Peter for him to be acting like this and essentially deciding to play nice/supportive while he investigated what it was…

It would be a whole THING. And yes, I do think Peter's obsessive feelings towards Tony would take that sexual/romantic bent even without Extremis!Tony there to put the thought in his head just because, well, when you only accept one other person on the planet as being your near-equal…!! Which would be its own fucked-up dynamic that Tony would have to navigate once he caught on. Yikes!

Extremis!Peter and cured!Tony: if anything this would probably be easier for Tony to manage on the Peter side of things if not on his own "coping with what he did under the influence of Extremis" side of things! He would be able to better anticipate how Peter thought/worked to be able to manipulate him into a position where he could administer some kind of cure. But then, you know, he would have to contend with all the original consequences of SIM!Tony's actions on top of the new horrors of what he and Peter would've gotten up to as a team, so… still yikes!!

(A THOUGHT: I don't know that Tony would allow things to happen this way but it's hot to think about: reverse of the original fic where Extremis!Peter comes on to either normal or somehow-cured Tony, Tony plays along as a ploy to get into a position where he could inject Peter with a cure, but… Peter's enhanced and Tony's not, so Tony is too slow for Peter not to catch him in the act, Peter gets rid of the cure, and then he keeps right on going with the sex. 🥰)

tl;dr: yikes all around]]

[babybatscreationsv2]

Thankful ch1

Marvel | Starker

It's been a few weeks since Halloween and Peter can't say he's over what happened between him and Tony. Tony's usual bullying is now tinged with a bit of flirting leaving the school wonder what exactly is going on between them. Peter can't help but wonder the same thing.

Rating: Explicit

Sequel to Ghostface

Forever for and inspired by my muse, H <3

Warnings and tags below

Warnings/tags: high school au, bullying, public sex, orgasm denial, humiliation, fear kink, rough sex, face fucking

There was an energetic buzzing in the air. Everyone was practically bouncing around the school. Books were shoved into lockers, happily forgotten. Half of the seniors had already dipped out. Ned hadn't even come to school since his family was leaving to visit relatives for the holidays. MJ had slipped out when the seniors did. Peter didn't mind wrapping up his classes for the semester. Most of his teachers just had them watch movies anyway. They knew better than to think anyone was paying attention on the last day before a big break.

He threw his backpack over his shoulder and turned away from his locker. He might have been the only student who bothered taking his books home. AP classes didn't care about holiday breaks. He had essays to write.

The hall was nearly empty by now. He waded through the few stragglers on his way to the side exit, but something caught his eye as he passed through the gym. Black fabric, the thin Halloween costume kind, was sticking out of the gym doors. Curious, Peter opened the door.

From the doors fell a familiar mask. The sharp smacking sound made him flinch as it fell to the ground. He stared at the creepy distorted face for a moment. Then he checked to see if anyone in the hall was watching before entering the gym.

It appeared empty. Most of the lights were off, only a few were left on for security. Peter picked up the mask and walked fully into the room.

"Tony?" he called. The only response was a noise from behind the bleachers. Anxiety flared under his skin. What was that boy up to now? Scared as he was to find out, he was equally as excited. So he followed the sound. He dropped his bag and the mask on the bottom most bleacher before walking around the corner.

"Tony?" he called again. Hands grabbed him from behind and dragged him to the floor. He gasped, but didn't scream. Tony smiled down at him from where he laid on his back.

"You'd never survive a horror movie, sweetheart," he teased.

"Don't I get points for fucking the killer?"

Tony bent down and crushed their mouths together. Peter moaned, arms wrapping around him and pulled him close. He whimpered when Tony's thigh pressed down between his legs. He rubbed himself against it and Tony moaned into his mouth.

"I've been following you around all day," he said, looking at him with wild eyes. His hands grabbed his wrists and pinned them up by his head. "I was waiting for you to leave, but you're too much of a teacher's pet to ditch on the one day we're all allowed to."

"You're here, too. What does that make you?"

"Horny." Tony smirked. "You owe me for keeping me waiting."

"I don't owe you shit. I didn't tell you to stay."

Tony leaned a little closer, voice going rough. "You owe me." The grip on his wrists tightened for a second. "Don't move."

He let go of his wrists and sat up. Peter didn't move. Tony held his gaze as he worked open his jeans. He shoved them down off of his hips and reached a hand inside. Peter shivered at the sight of his cock in his hand. He couldn't help but remember when Tony held him down and forced it between his lips. When he got off on him crying. It was scary to think that Tony didn't care if he wanted it or not. That if he said no, he'd just hold him down. He wanted him to hold him down.

"Open wide, Petey."

"No!" Peter spat before clamping his mouth shut. He turned his head away.

"Come on. It's a little late to be a prude don't you think?" Tony grabbed his jaw and turned his head back, but Peter only glared. "Open the fuck up!" Tony jammed his fingers into Peter's mouth and he bit down. He swore as he yanked his hand back. The slap against his cheek was real. Pain burst against the side of his face and tears welled in his eyes. He gasped, open mouthed, as he realized how gentle Tony was being when he hit him before.

Tony took advantage of his slack mouth to force his dick inside. His hands grabbed his wrists again, holding him down. Peter struggled against him just to feel it when he pushed him harder into the ground.

Tony didn't care about how much he gagged, giving him little time to recover and forcing Peter to get really good at controlling his gag reflex really quickly. He was brutal and mean and he moaned every time Peter whimpered or choked. It hurt when he pushed into his throat, but he couldn't turn his head away. It was hard to remember to breathe when Tony let him. When he pulled his cock from his lips, drool spilled over his lips and ran down his face. He let his mouth hang open, staring up at him with glassy eyes until he stuffed his lips again. Tony looked so shitty and smug.

Peter wished he had something to rub against or at least had a hand free. He wanted to cum so bad. He begged around the cock in his mouth.

Tony laughed. "You're such a fucking slut, Peter. All of that struggling until there's a dick inside you." He pulled his cock from his lips and smacked it against his face. Peter moaned. His thighs squeezed together.

"Please, Tony," he gasped.

"Do you wanna cum, is that what you're begging about?" Tony asked and Peter nodded. "That's too bad. I dragged you back here to use this hole not to get you off."

Peter moaned as he stuffed his cock back into his mouth. His whole body tingled. He was Tony's toy, a limp sex doll. Getting his mouth fucked felt almost as good as getting his ass fucked.

"That's it," Tony praised. His voice was ragged and strained. "Always a perfect victim." He stuffed his cock as deep as he could get it, forcing Peter's throat open. He whimpered and tried to be good while Tony panted over him until he came down his throat. Peter gagged as he pulled his cock back out. His eyes were burning with tears.

Tony patted his cheek. "Good boy," he said. He fixed his pants and sat down on the floor. Half dazed Peter sat up beside him. He wiped spit and tears from his face.

"That hurt," he complained. His voice was ragged.

Tony smiled. "Good." He grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him close to kiss him. It was hard and dirty, Tony's tongue invading his mouth while Peter just let him. He was so horny he felt dizzy. All he wanted was for Tony to keep touching him.

Peter moved in closer, climbing onto Tony's lap. He whined, squirming and rolling his hips. Tony's tongue in his mouth made him moan. His fingers tugged on his hair. He just wanted to cum and he didn't care if he did it while humping Tony's thigh like a dog.

Tony's hands wandered over his body, slipping under his shirt, running over his thighs. His tongue left his mouth to kiss his neck. Peter moaned as he sucked on the crook of his shoulder. He was so close, so close. And then Tony pushed him off of his lap. Peter stared, dazed, mouth wet and open. Tony looked smug.

"It's about time I got home," he said. "Lots to do. I'll call you." He winked. Then he stood and brushed the gym dirt from his clothes.

"But..." Peter started.

Tony laughed. "It's not like I can walk you home, Pete. Someone will see. Have a nice break." He turned away and walked underneath the metal bars.

The mask was laying on the floor. Tony scooped it up and looked at it. Then he shot Peter a wink before putting it on. Then he walked off, back around the bleachers and out of the gym. Peter thought about getting himself off, but jacking off by himself in the school gym sounded a million times more embarrassing than getting his face fucked. He'd just have to wait until he calmed down enough to walk home. At least it was Thanksgiving break and he wouldn't have to deal with Tony again for a while.

[deuterosapiens]

So, politely, what the fuck did I just watch?

This marks Day Four in our decent into madness and after a solid start, we are now on incredibly shaky ground with Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth.

Not doing a full scene for scene breakdown like I did for the second one because quite frankly, that was exhausting to write and because this one is a tremendous series of extremely audible oofs.

So, first and foremost, a glance at the Wikipedia for this one reveals that it had a roughly higher budget that Hellraiser II. Where that budget has gone, I cannot say. Certainly not to a cinematographer, because this one looks and feels so, so direct-to-home-video. But that's fine, after all, the story's got to be good, yeah?

Uh... no.

Look, my man Clive Barker, he's a busy guy. I'm sure he was working on something of extreme importance at the time and therefore didn't have as much of a role in story details and whatnot. It happens. I can't blame him. Who do I shift blame to?

Tony Randel, who directed Hellraiser II, and Peter Adkins, who wrote the screenplay for II based on a story by Clive Barker. Huh..? Can someone verify that my notes on this are right? I'm genuinely confused. And director Anthony Hickox's only major film of note is... Hellraiser III. Some action movies and whatnot, but nothing of note.

I'm not going to talk about our lead, Reporter Joanne Summerskill, because I legitimately do not care about her at all. She exists as a replacement for Kirsty (who gets a cameo), but as her journey here isn't really connected to these events in the same way as Kirsty, or Julia, she kind of doesn't connect as well. Actually, she's kind of just a weird vehicle for the storyline the movie actually does want to focus on, the character the movie wants to focus on.

The nail-headed Hell Priest died at the end of Hellbound. Not a good thing if you want him to be the antagonist of a sequel, right? Luckily, this series has an established history of allowing dead things to return to life, though we also seem determined to disregard the rules to that. So we do spend a bit of time bringing the nail-headed Hell Priest back to life.

We explore a bit more his former, human life, something touched upon in the previous film. You see, former human, the late Captain Elliot Spencer, manifests himself to our reportagonist to exposit a bit about how the nail-headed Hell Priest is a darker side of him, one which had given in to the allure of pain and pleasure and not at all who he truly is and yeah, this was a pointless contribution to the character.

I actually like this idea of a human giving in to the excesses offered by (the tragically absent) Leviathan and the Labyrinths of Hell, and being transformed by it into the Cenobitical Gash. This is good stuff. Having this character say "yes, I succeeded in becoming a master of pleasure and torment, and yes I delight in inflicting grievous bodily manglement onto others, but it's not really ME, it's not really who I AM!", is remarkably dumb. You cannot expect to garner sympathy when I've literally watched you rip your victims to tiny little pieces via meat hook. No dice.

Since none of the nail-headed Hell Priest's compatriots from the previous film bothered much with the whole "accept a blood sacrifice on the place of your death" thing, our Lead Cenobite goes about creating a new horde of loyal servants. Not equals, these new Cenobites are clearly subservient.

I cannot bring myself to like any of their designs, the new Cenobites. They feel so, I don't know, rushed. These are obviously not persons who have taken to bodily disfigurement and self-mutilation as a means of exploring the farthest reaches of pain and experience, they are just sort of, well, impaled with random things and given black leather.

Yes, yes, Doctor Channard had a similar thing going for him, but I think he is not quite a victim of the same thing as the new ones. His Cenobitical forme expanded on his own desires to torment his patients. It works as an outward expression of his own masochism. Cameraman Doc's is just sort of, now he has a video camera shoved through his eye socket. I guess it's hard to give designs that reflect a character's inner desires when none of these characters have a significant personality to begin with.

Aaaaaand once again, we seem to have completely forgotten the rules of the Lemarchand Box. It is now a glorified Pokéball. Is it really that damn hard to remember that the Lemarchand Box is a key? Really? Can we do this right, please? And what's with this "he cannot take it, it must be willingly given" rule? I'm not saying this directly conflicts with our established understanding of the Lemarchand Box, I'm just saying it feels like it conflicts with our understanding of how the Lemarchand Box is used by the Cenobites in the first film.

I'll give this movie one thing though. The scene with the church did kind of amuse me a bit.

This also marks the first time the films use the name Pinhead properly, which again, out of respect for Clive Barker, I will not be using.

Please tell me that I can forget all about this one and disregard it entirely for the next one.

[tina-mairin-goldstein]

So, I saw a post from ao3commentoftheday about talking to mulitshippers for more works with your rare pair tag, and I would love to elaborate on mine.

My two very rare pairs at the moment are Marvel MCU based: Ancient One/Kaecilius and Pepper Potts/Tony Stark/Stephen Strange. Allow me to introduce to the reasons I like these.

The Ancient One is a very underrated character without a lot of backstory! But we DO know she lived a very long life, and no one really knew her. We can easily assume this long life was lonely and hard. That she definitely lost everyone she ever knew and loved through illness, injury, and old age. Mordo stated that he didn't know much about her, that no one did.

I like giving her Kaecilius as a partner because he can relate. They cut it from the movies, so he seems like a stereotypical power-hungry villain, but he did the things he did because his son, and then his wife, both died, and he just wanted them back. He understands what it is to lose the people you love. His robes are also the ONLY ones we see in the movies that are the same color as TAO's, which indicates that they were equals in rank. So, no power imbalance to worry about if people are going to take it to that. No teacher taking advantage of her student. Maybe they aren't in it in for the long-haul, it isn't a deep all-consuming love, but they at least get an equal and someone who understands their pain out of the relationship. There are also many indications that they knew each other well before the rift between them. Now, that doesn't always mean a romantic relationship, but fandoms have shipped for less.

Bonus: TAO was confirmed to have seen the future, so she knew what would happen, but she chooses Kaecilius anyway, so they can both be happy and have companionship, at least for a short while. You get a doomed-by-the-narrative couple. Or an AU where they can find peace and healing in each other and find happiness again.

Moving on to Pepper Potts/Tony Stark/Stephen Strange.

I will be honest that I only know Tony and Pepper's relationship from the Avengers movies, as I haven't been able to watch the Iron Man movies, but I really like what I've seen.

Stephen is one of my favorite Marvel characters. He and Tony are similar in ways. Rich jerks whose lives get upended by devastating injuries. They have a lot in common they can bond over. And in Infinity War, we know Stephen saw 14,000,605 futures and only saw where they won. But we don't know what he considered winning, really. There could have been others where they 'won'. But Stephen is a doctor. We see him time and time again reference his oath to do no harm. He became a surgeon to save lives, and his own above all others. Tony reversing what Thanos had done and most everyone living could have been what he saw... But he didn't give the Time Stone up to Thanos immediately despite only seeing one future. He only did it when Thanos was killing Tony. The fandom has certainly latched onto this potential.

BUT what about Pepper? She and Tony survived rough times together, their relationship survived it. They are very much partners and in love. The fandom usually just casts Pepper aside with no explanation (did she die in the battle? Die giving birth? Did they get divorced? We don't know). She already loves Tony. She clearly cares for the people he cares about. So, if he cares about Stephen, it's not much of a stretch to say that she would care about him too. Plus, given the fact she loves Tony despite his less-than-pretty-history, she could totally love Stephen! From what I've seen, she is a caring person. Stephen saved Tony, which would at least get her to talk to him. He doesn't have many people. Things can go from there.

Why are we wasting a perfectly good F/M/M ship just so it's a traditional two-person couple? Why can't Morgan and Peter have THREE amazing parents who can teach them tech and magic? Why can't these three battle scarred people find love together?

That is my TED talk on my rare pairs. Thank you!

[irondad-defensesquad]

I saw your eyes (and it made me cry)

(Also on AO3!)

As of late, Peter notices that Tony has been changing the playlist in the workshop. Instead of the usual Black Sabbath or AC/DC, Ramones and 80s songs start coming from the speakers. It almost feels like it’s Tony’s way of saying that this workshop isn’t just his. It’s also Peter’s. Even though the latter rejected living here full-time, Tony insists that the Compound is still his home.

So, Peter is fixing his suit on his own while Tony focuses on his projects. DUM-E helps the teenager by grabbing the tools he needs. Peter really likes the bot, and he can tell Tony does, too, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

The workshop is peaceful and alive, and he doesn’t feel alone.

Then, a rather familiar song begins.

Peter doesn’t give it much attention, focusing on the Spider-Man suit.

Until…

I saw your eyes

And you made me smile

And for a little while

I was falling in love

Rather and red and blue, he sees… pink.

A beautiful girl dancing in an equally beautiful pink dress, ready to have the night of her life. Only for Peter to take away her smile.

I’ve gotta go.

I-I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this.

He made her cry.

I saw your eyes (I saw your eyes, I saw your eyes)

And you made me cry (Made me cry, made me cry)

And for a little while (Little while, little while)

I was falling in love

…

“OW!”

“Peter?” Tony calls from somewhere, immediately rushing to him. “Are you okay?”

As it turns out, Peter just got shocked. Literally. The boy sees that his finger is just slightly red. Nothing too serious. Even if Tony stares at it with panic.

“I-It’s fine, Mr. Stark. It doesn’t hurt that much,” Peter dismisses. “It’ll heal soon.”

Tony doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t really fight him on it, the more he analyzes Peter’s finger.

The man sighs, “Just be more careful, alright?”

“Yeah.” Peter bites his lip. “C-Could you- change the song, please?”

Obviously, he can’t hide his nervousness, like the pathetic kid he is. You’re terrible at keeping secrets, the same ghost in the pink dress reminds him.

His mentor, once again, doesn’t question it.

“FRI, skip song,” Tony says to the ceiling.

Soon enough, the romantic song is replaced by Ramones, which usually cheers him up, but Peter just can’t take the crying, heartbroken girl off his head.

“You wanna take a break?” Tony suggests, putting a hand on Peter’s back.

The teen wishes he could go back to the suit, to this little safe place. Yet he knows the man can read him like an open book, and Peter would probably not be able to focus again.

Gulping, yet relaxing at Tony’s gentle touch, Peter nods in silence. He leaves his tools on the counter, along with the suit, and lets Tony guide him outside of the workshop, until he’s sitting on a couch. Tony seems to briefly leave him alone to grab something at the kitchen, which is confirmed by the glass of water in front of Peter. He gladly takes it with his non-burning hand.

The billionaire stands on his feet with arms crossed, watching him attentively. It’s kind of unnerving, but Peter doesn’t blame him for feeling concerned.

“You look like you got your heart broken,” Tony observes.

Peter shakes his head.

“... it’s the other way around, actually.”

Tony waits, ready to listen. Peter is unsure if he should talk about this particular topic with his hero. He hasn’t even commented on it with Ned after everything was solved.

The fifteen-year-old takes a deep breath, staring at the water.

“There was… this girl, Liz,” Peter begins. “I really liked her. But I hurt her.”

From the corner of his eye, he can tell Tony’s frown softens.

“I kept… disappearing on her because of Spider-Man.” Peter doesn’t want to go too deep in detail here because this is from when he was lying to Tony and doing things behind his back, and the last thing he wants is to make Tony hate him, too. “But she never really got mad at me. She was really nice and patient… I think she liked me, too. When I invited her to Homecoming, she said yes.”

You’re the smartest guy I know.

She was so wrong.

“I didn’t want to leave Liz again. I wanted to spend more time with her,” Peter continues. “But…”

Liz is staring at him, dumbfounded. Betrayed.

“Her dad…” Peter could very well crack the glass in his hand. “He was the Vulture this whole time.”

The silence suddenly becomes heavy, and when he realizes, someone is joining him on the couch, wide dark eyes staring at him.

“I had to leave, or else he would steal the plane. I didn’t have a choice,” Peter says as if he’s being threatened with a gun again. Yet Tony would be the last person to do that to him. “And when I saw Liz again, she was moving away. I was never going to see her again.”

He feels like crying. He’s had nightmares about the Vulture, about the building falling on him. But right now, neither of these things are as haunting as breaking Liz’s heart.

“I… I ruined her life,” Peter admits. “I didn’t mean to, but I did. Now she’s far away from her friends, and her dad is in jail because of me.” He dries his nose with his sleeve. “I remember wanting to tell her I was Spider-Man, but now I just wonder… would she hate me if she knew who I was?”

Peter puts the glass on the center table before he breaks it.

Tony seems to process all the information he received, as he doesn’t say anything for a while. Peter has to hide his eyes before they release any real tears. He wouldn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of his mentor.

Noticing that, Tony is sitting closer to him, rubbing Peter’s back again.

“Kid,” the former says, “I can’t answer for Liz, obviously. I don’t know what her reaction would be. But hear me out, you did the right thing.”

Peter knows he did. But he also kind of hates himself for it, too. He hates that he made Liz cry.

“I wanted to do right by her, but I can’t,” he sniffs. “She’s gone and it’s my fault.”

“Pete, look at me.”

He doesn’t want to be seen like this.

“Look at me,” Tony repeats, quieter.

Peter does as he’s told, facing the least judgmental person in the world. A person whose face is burdened by long-term guilt and self-hatred, and loneliness.

“That Vulture guy is the one to blame. He ruined his daughter’s life. Not you,” Tony tells him. “You saved her, you saved so many people. I know you couldn’t save your relationship with her, and I know it sucks that you couldn’t have fun with her at Homecoming. But again, that is her father’s fault, not yours. You did the best you could.”

Peter listens all the way, in the meantime remembering his first conversation with his hero. Tony looked so tired, and he still does now. But Peter can see the acceptance slowly growing in his eyes. He can see Tony’s willingness to reach out to someone. Thus, he’s also telling Peter that it’s okay to be vulnerable around others. That it’s okay to be vulnerable around Tony.

Peter’s energies have been drained out, as he can’t help but lie against Tony. He expects the latter to deflect or tense at the approach… but if anything, he appears to relax.

“... I just miss her,” Peter whispers.

Not a single soul knows about this.

Everyone thinks Peter has moved on from Liz. He’s happy with Ned and MJ. He’s happy with Tony. He knows he’s not alone. But nothing is the same without Liz. Peter even imagines how things would be if she were still around. Maybe happy things would happen. But that’s not how life works, right?

Likely sensing those thoughts, Tony wraps his arms around Peter, hugging him close. Accepting all of his mistakes, regrets, secrets. He doesn’t say any of that, but he doesn’t have to.

Peter doesn’t return the hug, just buries himself in Tony’s chest, crying silently, not wanting to be seen. Other than that, everything is quiet. No music is playing. Peter’s sniffs are muffled and barely audible, and only he can hear Tony’s solid heartbeats. A heart that holds so much love for people, Peter included.

The teen is able to breathe again.

He’s able to close his eyes and face Liz crying. This time, he doesn’t avoid her.

He… hugs her, too.

He tells her he’s sorry, again. But this time with a lot more meaning behind it.

Then Liz lets go and walks away.

Peter doesn’t know what she feels.

The song fades away with her.

He cries harder.

It hurts so much.

…

And that’s okay.

It’s okay to miss her.

It’s okay.

Peter stays in Tony’s arms for a long, long time.

He pulls away once he’s ready to face the real world – Liz’s absence – again. Tony is smoothing his brown curls, not minding the fact Peter probably looks like a crying mess right now.

“You don’t have her number, do you?” Tony wonders.

Peter shakes his head. “Well, I used to, but I think she changed it after moving.”

Tony hums. “I could get it for you.”

Peter snorts. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Hmm, yeah, you’re probably right.”

The boy’s small expression of joy fades, succumbing to exhaustion.

“What do you want to do now?” Tony asks him. “Maybe we could… watch a movie or order something to eat? Something you really like?”

Peter considers it, but… he’s simply not up to it.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark… but I think I’m going to my room.”

“Oh, okay.”

He stands up and goes to his bedroom, Tony following him. Peter removes his shoes, then lies down, noticing that his mentor hasn’t left yet. He doesn’t seem to want to leave Peter alone. It’s kind of cute.

“You’re gonna be okay on your own?” Tony wonders.

“Yeah. I think I just need a nap.”

The man nods and enters the room, kneeling down to Peter’s level. He makes sure to properly tuck him in, then he caresses the boy’s cheek with his thumb. Tony’s hand is calloused but careful. So much warmth within it.

“Just call me if you need me, okay?” Tony insists. “Or just let F.R.I.D.A.Y know.”

“Yeah, okay.” Peter smiles, “Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“Of course, kiddo.”

Tony leaves the same glass of water by the bedside table before he walks away. Once he closes the door, Peter sighs. The pain is still clearly inside him, and he can’t make things right. At the same time, he’s glad he got to show it to someone else and be reassured that it’s okay to feel it. He doesn’t feel as haunted by this guilt as before.

He lets his bed claim him, drifting away to a peaceful sleep.

[iam93percentstardust]

an omegaverse idea inspired by the aristocats: in paris in the early 1900s, omegas have next to no rights, and so when his alpha unexpectedly dies, wealthy omega tony and his three kids are sent to live with edwin jarvis, the alpha left in charge of his late parents' estate. jarvis is as decent as an alpha can be, encouraging the kids, peter, harley, and morgan, in their chosen pursuits and allowing (though both tony and jarvis hate that term) tony to continue inventing new products for stark industries, and tony is as happy as an omega can be (happier, at least, than he had been with his alpha, who had wanted him to be the perfect society omega).

jarvis has a second ward in beta ezekiel stane, the son of howard stark's also deceased partner, obadiah. stane is the sort of beta who fancies himself an alpha in all but name, and when he overhears that jarvis, who is getting on in years, has found a loophole in the law to leave the entire stark fortune to tony instead of giving it to ezekiel for him to use to take care of tony and the children (read: gamble it away the same way ezekiel gambled his own fortune), he's furious. so what does any beta in desperate need and desire of a fortune belonging to someone else do? he plans to get rid of tony and the kids.

he drugs the family's meals one night and kidnaps the four starks, intending on killing them far enough away from town that it's unlikely the bodies, if ever found, will be recognized as the missing starks. except - he loses his nerve halfway through the drive. he's grown up pampered, and the thought of actually getting his hands dirty disgusts him. so, figuring that tony is a sheltered, unmated omega who will either have no idea how to get back to paris or be unable to find anyone willing to help him and not just mate him, he abandons the starks on the side of the road and returns to paris to feign surprise when jarvis wakes up the next morning to find tony and the children gone.

as for tony, he wakes the next morning in an unfamiliar setting with a frog perched on top of his head. he yells loud enough to startle the kids awake (and scare the frog off of his head), and then they sit down to try to figure out what happened to them. harley remembers seeing ezekiel when they were being carried out of the mansion, but tony, despite knowing that ezekiel has been jealous of their fortune, finds it impossible to believe that he, of all people, would have been capable of this plot.

ezekiel had been right in thinking that tony would need to be concerned about alphas taking advantage of him, and he knows that, but he's far smarter than ezekiel gave him credit for, and he's more than capable of figuring out a route back. while they're trying to figure out how to return to paris, drifter and alpha steve rogers stumbles upon them. tony tells the children to hide and not to watch if anything should happen to him, but steve is both goodhearted and instantly smitten with the omega. as soon as he finds out that tony's in trouble, he offers his help, and that doesn't change even after he finds out that tony has three kids along for the ride.

tony's smart. he knows that he's asking for trouble if he turns steve down. and steve is... nice. he makes tony blush, and tony can't remember the last time he actually felt butterflies in his stomach at attention from an alpha. besides, there are worse ideas than using an alpha as a cover. it'll be a few days walk back to paris; tony would feel safer having an alpha by his side who seems uninterested in just tumbling him into the bushes by the side of the road.

...and if things go poorly, well, stark industries has an entire line dedicated to discreet weapons for omegas. he can defend himself.

(things won't go poorly though; steve is too smitten to even consider messing things up with this omega (and equally too aware that there's no future for a drifter and a society omega))

(not that that's going to stop him from sweeping tony off his feet anyway)

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

Hi can I request a peter parker x barnes-Rogers reader (steve and Bucky's daughter) and me and Peter find out I'm pregnant with Peter's baby and we try to keep it a secret but everyone is suspicious of us cause I've been really poorly lately and Peter is being overprotective and one day Peter accidentally says "don't do that it could hurt the baby" or "and everyone freaks out and me, Peter and my dads have a long talk but everything is fine thanks xx

Unexpected

Pairing: Peter Parker x Barnes-Rogers! Reader

Requested?: Yes!

Word count: Almost 7k

Warnings: Pregnancy, some angst but thats it I think?

Author's Note: Yessssss this was so fun to write! Very excited to be back to posting on this page again. Thank you so much for the request! Hope to start adding in more content soon, so if yall have any requests feel free to send them in! And if you have requests sent in already, know that I love you and I will be getting to clearing out my inbox here pretty soon 🥰

Taglist: @just-that-bi-girl , @winterfrostsarmy

---------------------------

In retrospect, the entire team should have realized what was going on with you a lot sooner. To their credit, most of them had noticed that something was different about you, but other than Nat and Wanda none of them had a guess as to what exactly that was. 

The men appeared completely clueless in respect to the cause of the recent changes in you. Even Clint, a married father of three, hadn't caught on even after he'd seen you leaving the bathroom having clearly just thrown up. Tony had been the closest to figuring it out of the all men, having noticed your odd mood swings and crying fits as they became more and more frequent. He noted the same behavioral pattern as he'd found himself stuck in after the Battle of New York, and secretly worried for your mental well-being. He hadn't felt comfortable enough to broach the topic with you just yet though, instead opting to watch you from a distance for the time being. 

The women, however, seemed to understand almost instantly what was going on. Nat had figured things out once she realized that you had been skipping training lately and noticed that you and Peter barely appeared to leave one another's sides for even a moment. Wanda based her guess almost solely upon the fact that she could just feel that something was different about you; your entire energy had changed in the last few weeks and she noted it even before Peter had. Both women had their suspicions, but had seemingly agreed to keep their thoughts to themselves until you were ready to tell the team what was going on. 

Your dads were a different story altogether. 

It took Steve and Bucky much longer to notice something had changed with their daughter, Steve longest of all. Either you'd done a great job of avoiding your Pops or he'd been incredibly unobservant (or more likely both), but he hadn't seen anything that he would've considered out of the ordinary for you. 

That is, until today. 

"AAAAUUUUUUGGGGH"

Steve was on his feet in an instant, sprinting into the kitchen at the sound of your enraged scream. He skidded to a stop and surveyed the room with a trained look for the source of danger, but found none. In fact, you and Sam were the only two in the space as far as he could tell. Sam's back was pressed snugly against the furthermore countertop as you practically cornered him, the older man clearly caught off guard by your sudden burst of rage. You flung your hands around wildly as you yelled, one gripping a box so tightly that your knuckles were beginning to turn a concerning shade of white.

Completely bewildered, Steve watched in stunned silence for moment as you fumed and screamed expletives at the slightly-terrified looking Sam, without any clear indication as to what had happened. 

"I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE YOU, YOU GODDAMNED ASSHO-"

"Y/N Barnes-Rodgers!" Steve scolded you finally, momentarily stopping your verbal assault. "What in God's name is going on here?" 

Your eyes turned to your Pops' briefly before flickering back to glare in Sam's direction. 

"Pigeon-brain ate the last of my oreos," you seethed, walking forward and jabbing an accusatory finger to Sam's chest, his hands instantly flying upwards in surrender.

 Steve felt his jaw drop in utter disbelief.

“You-,” 

“What’s with all the commotion in here?” Bucky interrupted, striding into the kitchen much as Steve had moments ago and joining his husband's side with a confused look on his face. Steve crossed his arms and frowned at their daughter. 

“Apparently our daughter is screaming at Sam because he ate her cookies.” your Pops explained tersely.

“Not cookies, oreos,” you muttered, glare never wavering from Sam. You furiously threw the offending empty package roughly at his still bewildered face in lieu of another expletive. Sam was evidently so bewildered, in fact, that he didn't even flinch as the box hit his head and bounced pathetically to the floor. 

Bucky raised his eyebrow. 

“And that’s why you’ve been screaming like that?” he confirmed. You nodded, arms crossing your chest stubbornly. 

Bucky shrugged, looking towards his husband with a look of indifference. “Makes sense.”

“No, it absolutely does not make sense,” Steve lightly scolded, glancing at Bucky with a pointed look before returning his gaze to you. “Y/N you’re completely overreacting. Apologise to Sam right now.”

Your mouth dropped open, and you gaped at your dads with an expression that was equal parts betrayal and rage. 

“No.”

“No?” Steve repeated incredulously. He stared at you with disbelief, looking between you and Bucky like he was hoping he’d somehow misheard you. You met his glance with an equally stubborn look as you planted your feet solidly beneath you and tightened the cross of your arms. “What do you mean, no?”

“You heard me,” you spat, unwavering. 

Sam merely looked confused as he watched the two of you argue, if albeit still a bit scared, but Bucky was sure his shock was evident on his face. You never back-sassed your Pops, not even when you were really angry, and Bucky only felt his disbelief grow at the prospect that your attitude was all due to a few cookies. 

"Y/N, you don't get to tell me no," Steve ground out carefully, voice stern with a rare sort of parental authority he seldom had to use with you. In fact, Bucky was pretty sure he hadn't actually heard him use this particular tone since way back when you were a toddler testing the limits of your dads' patience. But unlike your three-year-old self, you didn't back down at your Pops' disapproving tone; in fact, you met his intense stare with a flippant roll of your eyes, deepening your dad's shock at your abrupt behavioral shift. 

"He fucking knows what he did, everyone knows those oreos are mine," you snapped, eyes alight with a kind of fury the likes of which your dads had never seen from you before. 

"Language!" Steve gasped at his daughter, his authoritative tone giving way to a spluttering one of complete disbelief. 

"FUCK OFF!" you shouted instantly. 

"HEY!"

Bucky had officially had enough. Irritation blossomed deep within his chest at the hurt he saw wash through his husband's eyes at your vulgar screech. Teenaged angst was one thing, but it was entirely another to blatantly disrespect Steve like you were. He still didn't know what was really causing you to act like this--because no way in hell could this be all over some oreos-- but he'd definitely passed the point where he even cared. 

"Doll, that’s enough. Clearly you're upset, but you cannot speak to your Pops like that," he practically growled. You turned your attention to your dad with the same kind of indignant irritation in your eyes, a flash of fresh anger rolling across your face at the sight of Bucky's equally irate expression. 

"You can fuck off too," you spat.

 Bucky's jaw clenched dangerously, the muscle in his cheek jumping and twitching as he took in his daughter's crass retort. Sam had long since left the scene, the nearly suffocating tension officially too much for him to take. Steve's eyes went wide for what felt like the millionth time since he'd first walked into the kitchen. If he hadn't known something was wrong before, he undoubtedly did now. 

You may not disobey him often, but you never snapped at Bucky. 

Steve had long since accepted that, though you loved the two of them the same, you'd always liked Bucky more. A daddy's girl from birth, you and Bucky had always been inseparable-- so for you to now scream and curse at him like this was like a flaming-red flag in Steve's mind. 

Something was definitely wrong. 

"Excuse me?" Bucky hissed. The two of you faced one another, arms crossed and expressions grim. You planted your feet even more solidly underneath you, staring your dad down with a fury so intense it was almost palpable. If it weren't for the overall tension of the situation, Steve might've teased the two of you for your near-mirrored positions. 

"Y/N? What's going on, I thought I heard yelling?" Peter asked as he practically skidded into the kitchen. He immediately joined you, face morphing into a look of utter concern at the sight of yours and Bucky's standoff. Steve braced himself, mentally apologizing to Peter for the verbal assault that was surely coming his way. 

But it never came. 

It was as if all the unwarranted anger was sucked from your body in a rush as soon as you caught sight of your boyfriend. Your face crumpled into an anguished expression, and Steve could see how the tears welled up in your eyes instantaneously. Peter clicked his tongue in pity and you thrust yourself instantly into his awaiting arms. He gripped you tightly, and you eagerly buried yourself further into his embrace. Face smashed tightly against his chest, you began to sob uncontrollably.

Your dads gaped at the scene, wide-eyed. 

"S-sam ate my oreos a-and now everyone's mad at me, and I j-just wanted my snack!" you all but wailed, voice muffled by Peter's body. 

Bucky blinked once as he turned to his husband, total confusion written all over his features. Steve just gaped in response, unable to formulate a semi-coherent thought, let alone words. 

"Oh angel, it's okay," Peter cooed softly into your hair, hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly as you continued to cry. "I can go and get you more oreos; don't cry Y/N/N, I'll just run down to the store right now to get you some."

Lifting your head from his chest, you seemed slightly placated and hopeful as you sniffled and looked up at him. 

"C-can I come with you?" you asked him shyly, tear-stained cheeks turning a slight shade of pink at your childish request. Peter smiled fondly down at you, clearly happy to see that you were feeling better. 

"Of course, it'll be nice to walk with you," he smiled sweetly at you and lightly kissed your nose. You giggled as you removed yourself from his embrace before walking over to your dads. 

"M'sorry I shouted daddys. Love you guys!" you apologized in a chipper voice before kissing both of the men's bewildered cheeks. 

The two supersoldiers both stood in stunned silence as they watched you leave hand in hand with Peter, who briefly shot them an apologetic look before the pair were gone. Steve thought he heard Peter mumbling something to Y/N as they left, but the only words he could pick out were "not good to get so worked up", which only confused him further. 

"What in the hell was that?" Bucky grumbled, face still crinkled with bewilderment. Steve simply shook his head. 

"I have absolutely no idea. I've never seen her behave like that, have you?"

"Nothing like that, but she was acting funny the other day too," he frowned, recalling the scene he'd walked in on just a few days prior. "She was full out sobbing on the couch a few days ago over a toilet paper commercial."

Steve gaped at his husband. 

"Sh-she...what?"

"Doll have you seen your Pops? I can't find him any-"

Bucky's question died in his throat as soon as he hit the threshold of the TV room. You were curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees as sobs racked through you. Peter sat next to you with his eyes crinkled in concern and hands rubbing gently at your shoulders as you cried. 

"Y/N what's wrong, why are you crying?" Bucky asked. Feeling his protective instincts kick in instantly,  he couldn't help but search the room with his eyes in search of any danger. Finding nothing, he narrowed his eyes at your boyfriend.

"Did he do something?" Bucky demanded. "Parker I swear to God if you hurt her I-" 

"What? N-no I didn't do anything Mr. Bucky I swear!" Peter spluttered, eyes widening in fear at the terrifying look in your dad's eyes. 

"Bullshit, then why's she crying like that? Of course you did someth-"

"N-no it's not P-peter dad!" you interrupted tearfully. "There was an ad on TV that just made me emotional okay? You know, the one with the boy crying in the bathroom and his dad offers him toilet paper for his tears?"

There was a beat of silence. 

"Doll, you really mean to tell me that you're sobbing over a toilet paper ad?" Bucky asked, brows furrowed in disbelief. You sniffled as you nodded, and fresh tears began to pick your eyes once more. 

"Yes! I mean it's just so inspiring," you blubbered. "I mean how often do you actually get to see a teenaged boy cry on TV? Never, cause toxic masculinity standards in this stupid patriarchal society we all live in say otherwise! And not only does the dad accept that his son is crying and is allowed to feel real emotions, he sits down to talk with him about them! I just got so happy thinking about all the little boys who will see this ad and feel the validation that they're normal for feeling sad every once in a while!"

Bucky just stared at his daughter with a blank look for a moment; he looked like he was unable to formulate a single response to the information he'd just been given. 

"Well that's...uh….that's great I gue-"

"I can't believe you would just assume that me crying just had to be because of something Peter did," you interrupted, angrily brushing the leftover tears from your face. "It's so unfair, you always blame him for everything!"

"I-uh," Bucky stammered, flustered by the sudden change in your emotions. You scoffed and stood quickly from your spot in Peter's embrace, crossing your arms petulantly. 

"It's true dad, you're always looking for something to yell at him for! It's so biased and unfair," you practically yelled. "Honestly it's such prejudiced bullshit. Some kind of outdated 'lock up your daughters' rhetoric that I can't believe yo…"

At some point during your impassioned speech you began stomping away from both your dad and Peter while still ranting. As your shouts became fainter and fainter Bucky found himself directing his dumbfounded expression at Peter instead. In a rare show of solidarity with your boyfriend, Bucky silently begged for an explanation as to what on earth had just happened. 

Despite the way his heart was hammering wildly in his chest Peter remained silent. He offered only a passive shrug to your dad before he clambered to his feet and began following after you. If Bucky hadn't been caught so off guard he surely would've been suspicious at the visible sweat that was beading on Peter's forehead and the way the young boy's hands trembled as he quickly left the room, the question of what was causing your mood swings laying thickly unanswered in the air. 

"What the fu-"

"She...a toilet paper ad? Really?"

"Yep, a friggin' toilet paper commercial," Bucky nodded solemnly. Steve blinked once, shaking his head. 

"So what did you do?" he asked incredulously. 

"Nothin'," Bucky shrugged. "She was so damned worked up that I figured she needed some space, and by the time I went to talk to her she'd already seemed completely fine. Thought it wasn't worth upsetting her all over again."

Steve snorted. 

"Yeah right, you were just too scared you would make her mad again," he chuckled. 

"Hell yeah I was," Bucky admitted freely, crossing his arms and shooting his husband a defiant expression. "You've seen her, you know how terrifying she can be when she's pissed!"

Steve chuckled once more, shaking his head fondly. 

"Mmmm, and I wonder where she got that from."

Bucky narrowed his eyes and scowled at the implication, a surly look overtaking his features. Steve couldn't help but laugh outright at the expression on his husband's face; it was the exact same face you always made when you were annoyed, right down to the little pout in your lip. 

"For the last time Stevie, she doesn't get that from me," he grumbled. 

"Sure Buck, whatever you say," Steve laughed. 

Though your odd behavior and mood swings were at least now on both your dads' radar, neither had any clue as to the actual reason for your sudden changes. The pair of them chalked up the incidents to little more than teenaged angst, however they had no idea how wrong they were nor just how soon they were about to find out what was really going on. 

---------------------------

"I don't understand Y/N," Steve stated carefully. "Why exactly don't you want to go with the team?"

You shifted your weight from foot to foot anxiously, huffing out a breath in mock annoyance and very real frustration. 

You'd been in the training room, lightly working out with Nat and Wanda when your Pops and Tony had walked in to announce that there was an urgent mission that apparently would require the entire team. Internally cursing your timing, you'd tried to sneak out of the room unnoticed, but as your luck would have it, your dad caught you. Now you were stuck arguing with your dads, the attention and curiosity of everyone in the gym directed at you. 

Your heart was thrumming wildly in your chest as you furiously racked your brain for some way, any way, out of this assignment and this conversation without an actual reason. 

Well, a reason you were actually willing to give, that is.

"Why does it even matter?" you snapped, hoping that no one clocked the tremor in your voice. "It's not like you guys even need me anyways."

"Doll, you always jump at the chance to come with us," your dad interjected. "So what's so different about today?"

"I just don't want to," you whined, lying through your teeth. "I'm tired and I don't feel good."

"But you were literally just training?" Sam pointed out. You narrowed your eyes at him, irritation bubbling under the surface of your anxiety at the contradiction. The older man shrank back a bit under your firey gaze, the previous incident in the kitchen clearly prominent in his mind as he stepped behind Wanda. 

Clint snorted. 

"If you could even call that training," he mumbled under his breath. Your jaw dropped. 

"What is this, gang up on Y/N day?!" you sassed as your arms flew to cross your chest defensively. Your Pops shook his head. 

"We're just worried Y/N/N," he reassured, brows furrowed with concern. "You've been behaving very strangely lately, and this is just one more thing."

"Yeah doll," Bucky nodded, agreeing with his husband. "So what gives?"

Your pulse sped up once more at the direct question, a sickening feeling rising in your throat like bile at the realization of just how suspicious your dads were. Unable to think clearly through your panic, you did the only thing you could think of. 

You scoffed in fake disbelief, rolled your eyes, and began stomping out of the room. 

"Y/N Barnes-Rodgers!" your dad shouted in an indignant and angered tone. "We are not done talking about this!" 

Damn. 

"What?!" you whirled around, stomping your foot like a child. "I just don't want to go this time okay?"

Bucky's face turned red at your open defiance, but Steve interrupted before he could even open his mouth to snap back at you. 

"No Y/N it's absolutely not okay," he scolded. You felt the burn of unshed tears prick your eyes as they searched desperately around the room, mind racing to think of an excuse that would get you out of this situation. 

"But-"

"No, no buts Y/N," your dad barked, clearly having composed himself enough to speak once more. His arms were crossed as he glared at you, and the stubbornly annoyed look on his face was enough to make the tears in your eyes begin to fall. A feeling of utter entrapment and fear settled in your chest like a suffocating weight as you felt the hot, fresh tears stream down your cheeks. 

"Doll, are you crying?" your Pops questioned incredulously. "What on earth is going on with you?"

"Nothing! I just can't go today," you blubbered, past the point of being able to hold back your sobs. 

"You can't go, or you won't go?" Bucky asked pointedly, evidently not swayed by your tears. 

"It doesn't matter," you cried desperately. Your dad's eyes bored into yours directly as if he was searching your brain to find out what you were holding back from him. 

"It clearly does matter, otherwise you wouldn't be acting like this," he continued harshly. "I'm not sure what it is you aren't telling us, but I don't even care at this point. Stark said he needs everyone and your Pops told you to go, so you need to get yourself together and go and get ready."

The tears were now cascading down your face in giant streams and your face was growing warmer by the second. You darted your gaze back and forth between the other team members' faces, still searching for some kind of last minute way out of this situation. Finding only curious or concerned expressions, you turned back to your dads with wide eyes. You felt your mouth go dry as your lips open and closed wordlessly, the severity of your current predicament weighing you down more and more by the second. 

"I-"

"No. I don't want to hear another word from you Y/N," your dad snapped. "Go and get ready for the mission now."

"But she can't go!"

Time stopped for a split second as the entire room's heads snapped towards the desperate shout.

Peter had only just entered the training room, wondering where everyone was, when he caught the tail end of your dad's order. He couldn't help but blurt the first thing that'd come to mind, the implication of which only dawned on him afterwards. As he rushed to your side he shot you a sheepish look, and you internally cringed a bit at his slip. 

Even though you were certain Peter's involvement would only further reduce your already slim chances of getting out of this mission without a full confession of what was really going on, you couldn't help but feel an inkling of relief as his eyes locked with yours. His hand immediately intertwined itself with yours once he'd reached you, and your belly fluttered with a warm tinge of comfort with the simple touch.

True, things were probably about to go sideways for the both of you, but at least Peter was here to go through it by your side. 

"Excuse me Parker?" your dad spat incredulously, eyes blazing with anger at your boyfriend's outburst. "I don't recall asking you for your opinion on my daughter or what she can or can't do."

Peter stood a little taller as he looked Bucky straight in the eyes with an unprecedented amount of determination. 

"She can't go." he practically growled, eyes stern and unyielding as he openly defied your dad. He was standing a half-step in front of you, tense back partially shielding you from the rest of the team as he spoke.

 Even with his face turned the opposite direction you could see from his profile the way his brows were furrowed and how dark his normally chocolate brown eyes had gotten. You felt a slight shiver run up your spine at the fiercely protective energy Peter was radiating, and your heart felt a bit lighter at the way he stood up to your dad on your behalf. You squeezed his hand in an effort to ground him, and he softened marginally as he glanced back at you.

Your dad however looked as if he might combust soon based on the way his eyes bulged out and his face turned a concerning shade of red. 

"What's that supposed to mean Peter?" Steve interjected carefully, his hand reaching up to rest comfortingly on his husband's shoulder. 

"It means exactly what we said," Peter said firmly. "Y/N cannot go on this mission today."

The team watched the interaction between you, Peter, and your dads with their heads bouncing back and forth between the four of you like they were watching a tennis match. Not a word had been uttered from a single one of them, and yet they stood completely transfixed as they waited patiently to see the outcome of the argument. 

"And why, pray tell, is that Parker?" your dad hissed, scowl etched across his features. 

Peter's eyes traveled to yours, irises swimming with a silent question. Realizing that there was no way out, you took a steadying breath as you nodded softly and squeezed his hand once more in reassurance. Peter smiled at you fondly before dropping his smile and turning back to your parents. 

"She can't go because...it could be bad for the baby."

You could've heard a pin drop in the training room. No one made a sound, no one even dared to breathe. The shock in the room was palpable, but you couldn't be bothered to even glance at anyone other than your dads, their reactions the only two that mattered to you in this moment. 

Though you'd expected a rather explosive reaction from your parents (especially from your dad), you were met instead with blank stares. Your dads were simply staring at you and Peter in stunned silence, and their lack of a response actually frightened you more than the screaming you'd been anticipating for weeks now. The beat of silence seemed to stretch on eternally, though in reality it was probably no more than thirty seconds. You watched nervously, your hand becoming sweaty in Peter's as you waited. Finally, your Pops blinked and opened his mouth cautiously. 

"Bad for the wha-"

"I SWEAR TO GOD PARKER THAT'D BETTER BE SOME KIND OF DISGUSTING PET NAME FOR MY DAUGHTER."

Ahhh. There it was. 

Your dad had clearly broken through his frozen thoughts enough to respond, and you would've laughed if you weren't so terrified. He looked positively furious; his eyes were darker than you'd ever seen them and his face had darkened from red to an almost purple color that looked painful to say the least. His murderous gaze was hyper-fixated on Peter, and you couldn't help but step in front of your poor boyfriend in an effort to take some of the heat off him. 

Peter, evidently, was having none of that, and he frowned before pulling you backwards and tucking you into his side tightly. If you hadn't been so focused on your dad right now you might've rolled your eyes at his over-protectiveness. Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of his embrace as you took a steadying breath. 

"It's not," you responded as calmly as you could manage while your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your throat. "I'm pregnant."

Silence enveloped the room once more, and you could've sworn it was even more awkward than the first time. It must've been, because you could see Nat and Wanda ushering the rest of the team out of the gym out of the corner of your eye. You weren't quite sure if you were grateful for the privacy or more scared of how your dads would react now that you were alone.

Your dads stared at you and Peter with wildly different expressions. Steve was staring off into space and looking as if he was either going to throw up or pass out soon, and Bucky still looked as if he was about a half a second away from murdering Peter with his bare hands. To his credit, Peter was still standing by your side with the same look of determination as before despite this, but you could feel the way his pulse was hammering through his veins as he too carefully surveyed your dads' reactions.

You stood quietly, trying to be patient as you watched them, but the suspense and anticipation quickly became overwhelming and you couldn't help but blurt,

"Say something!"

Though both their gazes snapped up to your face with your plea, yet neither your dad nor you Pops said anything. You were suddenly overcome with the urge to explain yourself. 

"I know that you're probably in shock or angry or maybe both- and honestly that's completely fair!" You rambled breathlessly. "I know we're still only eighteen, but I really think everything's gonna be okay? Really, I do. And I'm so sorry about today, believe me this isn't how we planned on telling you at all bu-"

"You're not coming on the mission," Steve interrupted, his voice completely devoid of emotion. "Nor is Peter. Your dad and I will be back later, and we're all going to have a long discussion."

It felt like all the air was sucked out of your body as you watched your Pops pull your dad towards the training room exit. You hadn't been fully sure of just how you were going to tell them, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine that it would come out like this. Tears once more welling up in your eyes, your heart sank as you realized just how disappointed and angry they were. 

"I love you," your voice cracked as you called to their retreating forms, unable to bear the sight of them leaving without reminding them. They both paused in the doorway, and without turning back both muttered that they loved you too before they were gone. 

As soon as they left you immediately twisted yourself and thrust your face into Peter's chest, the tears flowing steadily as you sobbed. He wrapped his arms tightly around your shaking form, lips finding the crown of your head and hands rubbing soothingly across your back. 

"Th-they hate me now," you whispered brokenly into Peter's soft hoodie in between sobs. "They hate me Pete, they're n-never going to forgive me for this!"

Peter shushed you quietly, gentle lips kissing your hair as he began to sway you back and forth slowly. 

"They don't hate you angel," he soothed. "They're just surprised. Disappointed in the timing maybe, but they'll get over it. I promise."

"I never wanted it to go like this," you cried as you pulled your head from his chest slightly. Peter's hands left your back for a moment to come and rest on either of your cheeks. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before retreating upwards to look deep into your eyes. 

"I know you didn't sweet girl, but it did," he said gently as he brushed away some of your tears with the pads of his thumbs. "It did and it's going to be okay. We'll talk to your dads when they get back and clear everything up. And no matter what, you and I are going to get through this together, okay?"

You sniffled softly, nodding sadly. Peter's eyes were swimming with guilt and dejection at the sight of the empty expression on your face. He didn't know how to comfort you in this situation, but it was like every molecule in his body was demanding he do so. He leaned down once more to press a loving kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips. 

You sighed, head retreating back to his chest once your lips disconnected. Sadness was still swirling in your stomach and you just longed for the feeling that being in Peter's arms brought. He seemed to understand perfectly- as he always did- pressing his cheek to the top of your head and wrapping his arms tightly around you without a word. The two of you stood there for a while, bodies entangled as you continued lightly swaying back and forth. Peter's hands continued to roam up and down your spine and your tears began to slow and dry. 

Eventually you hummed, stepping back and up on your toes to press an appreciative kiss to Peter's face. He smiled as a faint pink tinted his cheeks at your display of affection. You giggled, slightly amazed that even after everything you two had done, something as simple as a peck on the cheek could still make him blush.

"Thank you," you said quietly, looking up into his eyes. He quirked an eyebrow at you in confusion. 

"For staying with me through all that. I mean it's you, so I wasn't really worried...but my dad can be really frightening. So thanks," you half joked. 

Peter chuckled lightly as he pulled you back into his arms once more. 

"Of course angel. Told you, I'm never going to leave you. Even if your dad is super scary. You two are stuck with me now. I'm never ever going to leave you or our baby," he vowed quietly into your hair as his hands reached down to rub the small but growing bump in your tummy lovingly. "We're gonna get through this all together, as a family."

You felt tears well up in your eyes once more, but this time out of sheer love and happiness.

 Damned hormones. 

"You're gonna be such a good daddy Peter," you whispered gratefully. Hearing the slight crack in your voice, Peter pulled you away from his chest gently to wipe your tear stained cheeks once more. 

"Hey now, no more tears today," he scolded playfully as he tugged you across the room. "When's the last time you ate something? We have the whole kitchen to ourselves now, and I bet my babies are hungry!"

You chuckled lightly as you allowed him to pull you along with him towards the kitchen. All the while, he chattered happily about the new article he'd just read about the specific nutritional needs pregnant women have, and your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. You were still apprehensive about the upcoming conversation with your dads, but you were definitely feeling better. As much as their approval and involvement would mean to you, you'd come to the conclusion that as long as you had Peter by your side everything would work out alright. 

Somehow.

---------------------------

"Petey, are you sure you don't need any-"

"No! Nope. I've got this," your boyfriend interrupted stubbornly. You signed, hand absentmindedly rubbing across your swollen stomach as you watched him struggle with the latch on the new crib the two of you were setting up. 

Well, the crib that Peter was setting up. 

It'd been a few months since the team had found out about the newest upcoming addition to the Tower, and you'd decided that it was time to begin decorating the nursery. Tony, of course, had offered to have someone come in to do all the heavy lifting, but Peter was insistent that he be the one to set everything up. His protectiveness over you and the rapidly growing child you were carrying had only increased as the months went on, so much so that you were lucky now if he'd even let you stand for long enough to watch him put the baby's furniture together. It was endearing, really, how much he cared for the two of you, but you'd be lying if you said that you weren't becoming a little frustrated with how little you could do to help. 

"Really Peter, I can help," you grumbled, annoyed. "I'm pregnant, not disabled."

"Of course you could help angel, but I don't need help," he grunted, eyes never leaving the mass of parts around him. "You already have to do all the work of growing and housing our baby, the least I can do is build the crib!"

"Housing?" you teased, quirking an eyebrow.

"You know what I meant," he grumbled, and you couldn't help but chuckle at his growing frustration. 

Peter was clearly losing his grip just a bit as he struggled to make sense of the instructions that had been provided with the pieces. He sighed, throwing the pamphlet down on the ground before trudging over to where you stood, leaning against the changing table that he'd put together a few days ago. 

"I've engineered web-fluid from absolutely nothing, re-built computers from scratch and yet I can't even manage to put this stupid bed together," he whined as he dropped his head down onto your shoulder in defeat. "M'gonna be a terrible father."

"Ohhh bubs," you cooed sympathetically, smile falling quickly and heart lurching at the tone of pure dejection in his voice. 

You wrapped your arms around him, one snaking around his back and the other cradling his head. Your fingers began instantly carding through his chocolate-brown locks as he nuzzled his nose lightly into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His hands wound their way around your waist too- or as well as they could with your round tummy in the way- and his own hands began absentmindedly tracing patterns over your bump.

"Peter you have to know that isn't true," you soothed, kissing his cheek softly. "You're going to be an amazing dad."

He hummed non-commitally. 

"You think you're not?" you challenged, fingers halting their dance against his scalp. "Do the thing."

He raised his head from your shoulder, brows furrowed in confusion. 

"What does that have to do with-"

"Do the thing," you interrupted sternly. He sighed and knelt down, grumbling inaudible complaints as he went. Once he was face to face with your bump he placed his hands on either side, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your stretched-out skin.

"Hi baby, it's me, your daddy," he spoke softly into your stomach, lips so close that you shivered with each breath that ghosted over your clothed belly. "I love you so much."

The baby responded instantly at the sound of Peter's voice, feet jabbing out and kicking excitedly from within just underneath where his hands lay. You felt your heart skip a beat at both the feeling the movement in your belly and the sight of the dopey smile that lit up Peter's handsome face as he felt his child's kicks. You rubbed over his hands lovingly and smiled down at him.

"See bubs? He starts throwing a party in there every time you do that. He loves you so much already, that's not gonna change," you reassured him softly. Peter's smile dropped just a little. 

"But the crib-"

"Fuck the crib," you responded stubbornly. "You are the most caring, sweetest, and most thoughtful person I know Peter. You're going to be the world's best dad."

"Whoa whoa, believe we're the ones with the mugs that claim that title," a voice chuckled from the doorway. 

You smiled fondly, eyes darting to find the sight of your Pops leaning casually against the frame of the door with your dad standing just behind him. Both had amused smiles on their faces, and you grinned widely. Even Peter smiled as he rose to his feet and wrapped one of his arms around your back to pull you into his side. 

"Okay, third best dad in the world then," you amended, grinning. 

"That's better," your dad piped up, smiling. "Now what's this I hear about a faulty crib? Sam said he can hear Peter cursing all the way from his room."

Peter groaned, tilting his head backwards in exasperation as you laughed out loud. 

"It isn't faulty, I'm just an idiot," Peter grumbled. Everyone but him chuckled, and your dad walked further into the room. He clapped a hand on Peter's back as he grinned at the younger man. 

"Normally I'd agree with you, but I know if I do Steve will bring up how Y/N had to sleep in the bassinet for like 6 months because we couldn't figure out how to put her crib together."

"You mean you couldn't figure it out," your Pops snorted from his place in the doorway. "As I recall, I was not allowed to help with the furniture because you were determined to figure it out on your own."

Bucky shrugged, seemingly indifferent to his husband's insinuation. 

"Whatever. Point is, I wanted to see if you wanted some help putting it together. Thought I might be able to give you some tips," your dad continued. Peter's smile widened, and he nodded eagerly before your dad knelt down to help try and make sense of the directions.

The discussion after the incident in the training room had gone much better than you would've ever imagined. Both your dads had been relatively calm once they'd returned from their mission, and surprisingly there had been no screaming, no crying, and no threats towards Peter from Bucky like you'd been picturing. The four of you had sat down together and had a long, mature discussion of what your plans were in terms of raising and caring for your child, and by the end your dads had even seemed enthusiastic about the prospect of being grandparents. Their involvement and excitement had only grown in the following months to the point now that you felt silly for ever having been frightened to tell them. 

And now as you stood watching your boyfriend and dad work together to put your child's room together, tears began collecting in your eyes and you felt your chest warm with feelings of overwhelming love. Steve, noticing your tears, moved to wrap his arms around you and you leaned your head against his shoulder. Rubbing your belly lovingly, you couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude wash over you for the men in your life and love for the little one that you'd all be meeting soon. 

[waitimcomingtoo]

touch

chapter three: contact

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

synopsis: you love him, but you can never touch him

Series Masterlist and Regular Masterlist

Peter found you brushing your teeth in the bathroom that connected your rooms. He wordlessly got out his toothbrush and starting brushing his own teeth at the other sink. You looked at him in the mirror before spitting and drying you face. As you were putting your toothpaste back in the drawer, you accidentally closed it on your finger.

“Ouch.” You jumped as you yanked your finger back, inspecting it for broken skin. It wasn’t injured, just throbbing. You looked at Peter out of the corner of your eye before touching his arm with the throbbing finger and sending the pain into him.

“Ow.” Peter jumped a little and looked at you in confusion.

“I thought you wanted me to touch you.” You replied sarcastically to prove a point.

“Is this a joke to you?” Peter asked bitterly as he glared at you.

“Joking is the only way I can deal with this.” You answered honestly.

“We don’t have to deal with this. We could just be together.” He said solemnly as he put his toothbrush away. You looked at Peter in the mirror and sighed sadly.

“It’s too big of a risk, Peter.” You frowned. “I love you too much to put you through that.”

“And I love you too much to accept this ending.” He stated as he turned to look at you.

“You think I want this?” You laughed sadly as you stepped up to him. “You think I don’t want to kiss you whenever I want? Or hold your hand? I want all of that. But I can’t have it. I can’t risk it.”

“So because you might hurt me, we can’t be together?” He asked. “It’s not like you ever hurt me before.”

“But I’ve hurt other people before.” You said gravely, coming as a surprise to Peter.

“What are you talking about?” Peter asked as he saw a sadness cloud your eyes. You looked down for a minute and sighed before shrugging and folding your arms.

“I had a best friend when I was younger. We were just like you and I. We spent every day together but I didn’t touch her because of what I could do. I was so careful.” Your voice cracked as you shook your head. “I tried so hard to keep her safe.”

“What happened?” Peter began to worry when he saw how worked up you were getting.

“She had a peanut allergy that I didn’t know about. I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that she didn’t know about. She ran up to me at recess and hugged me and-“ You sucked in a breath as tears streamed down your face. Peter looked at you with sympathy and put his hand as close to yours as he could without touching it.

“She died, Peter.” You whispered. “I killed her.”

“You didn’t know.” Peter tried to comfort you.

“Exactly.” You cried. “But I do now, and I can never make that mistake again.”

All at once, Peter understood why you were so hellbent on not touching. You were traumatized, and you didn’t want to repeat history. Peter took a step towards you and hovered over you, giving you the impression he was going to kiss you.

“Peter, don’t.” You said softly.

“I’m not gonna touch you.” He said. “I just want to tell you that I understand.”

“You do?” You asked hopefully.

“I hate it.” Peter admitted. “I hate that it has to be this way. But I understand.”

You stared at him for a moment before smilingly softly in appreciation. You picked up piece of paper off the counter and kissed it before tucking it into Peter’s pajama pocket.

“Thank you.” You whispered. “Thank you for understanding.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so cold to you, peaches. You didn’t deserve that.” Peter apologized as he held his hand over his pocket.

“It’s okay. I can’t blame you for reacting the way you did. I was hurting too.”

“So do we just go back to being friends? Friends who are in love?” Peter laughed sadly.

“Unless you want to be in a relationship where we never touch each other.” You laughed, equally as sad. Peter chuckled softly before making a face.

“I mean…” He looked at you shyly and shrugged a little.

“You’d actually want to do that?” You asked curiously.

“I would.” He confirmed. “I’d rather be limited with you than unlimited with anyone else.”

“Okay.” You nodded eagerly. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Peter sighed in relief and leaned down, lips almost touching yours but not quite.

“I love you, peaches.” He whispered, lips grazing yours as he spoke. You sucked in a sharp breath, inhaling him and his scent.

“I love you too, Peter.”

~

Peter was working on mission plans for Tony the following week when he got a text from you.

“Meet me in the lab.”

His eyebrows knit in a straight line as he set his pen down. He quickly made his way to the lab and found you inside, holding something behind your back.

“Hey.” Peter smiled at you as he walked into the lab.

“Hey.” You smiled back. “I um, I made something. Well, actually, Dr. Banner made most of it but I gave him the idea.”

“What is it?” Peter wondered as you took a small, silver device out from behind your back.

“Its um, it’s a stun ray.” You laughed nervously. “It stuns you and temporarily takes away your powers.”

“What are you planning on doing with it?” Peter asked curiously. You picked up the gun, shrugged, and shot yourself in the chest. Peter immediately rushed to you to see if you were hurt.

“Are you okay?” He asked once he got to you.

“Uh huh.” You said through a smile before pulling him into a kiss. Peter’s eyes widened before fluttering shut as his arms enclosed around your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he wrapped his around your torso, kissing you with everything he had. You ran your fingers through his hair before letting them rest on his face, kissing him deeply to make up for all the time you had lost. Peter only pulled away when he couldn’t breathe, resting his forehead against yours as he panted. Tears of joy slipped down his cheeks, making him take your face in his hands and kiss your forehead.

“Does it last forever?” He whispered as he pressed his forehead against yours, keeping his arms securely around your waist.

“20 minutes.” You said as you rubbed his chest. Peter nodded before leaning down and kissing you again, just as passionately as before. He pulled away suddenly and held you back from him.

“Wait. As much as I want to kiss you, and I do, I really just wanna…” Unable to find the words to say, Peter trailed off and pulled you into a hug. He held you tightly and rested his chin on the top of your head, swaying softly back and forth as he rubbed your back. You wrapped your arms around his torso and pressed your face into his chest, taking in his scent in a way you never could before. You felt so close to him that you could cry, griping his shirt to pull him even tighter.

“I love you, Peter.” You mumbled in his ear.

“I love you too, Peaches.” He said back before pulling out of the hug. “Hold my hand, please.”

He held up his hand in the way he did that one day in the kitchen and this time, you interlocked your fingers with his. He held up his other hand and you did the same, hands clasped tightly around each other’s.

“This is nice.” Peter laughed softly. “I’ve always wanted to do this with you.”

“I know.” You nodded. “I wanted this too.”

“You’re so beautiful.” Peter sighed as he took your face between his hands again and rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs. He let his hands trail down your arms before taking your hands in his and kissing your knuckles. “Beautiful, beautiful Angel.”

You smiled with joy as your touched his face, memorizing the features under your fingertips.

“Your skin is so smooth. And your hair.” You gushed as you have it a tug. “So soft.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Peter chuckled, leaning in to your touch the way he always wanted and placing a kiss on your palm.

“I love it.” You told him as your carded your fingers through his curls.

“How often can we do this?” Peter asked as he drummed his fingers on your waist. “How often can you use the stun gun?”

“Dr. Banner said it’s only safe to use once a day.” You frowned slightly, but Peter lit up in a smile.

“I get to touch you everyday?” He asked hopefully as he took your hands in his.

“For 20 minutes, yeah.” You nodded, smiling as well now.

“I’ll take whatever I can get.” Peter sighed happily before kissing you again. “How much longer do we have?”

“Seven minutes.” You told him as you checked your phone.

“Dance with me?” He requested as he assumed waltzing position. You smiled softly and nodded as you began to sway back and forth to music that wasn’t playing. Peter rested his head on your shoulder after a minute as you wrapped your arms around his neck in a slow dance.

“I like this dance much better than the one we used to do.” You mumbled against his neck before placing a kiss there.

“I know, Peaches.” Peter sighed in content. “Me too.”

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort

@foreverxholland @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @babeyspidey @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258

@maybemona @young-romanoff @alexxcorona113 @fancyxparker @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey @im-still-tryin-to-find-it @big-galaxy-chaos @pandaxnienke @theincredibledeadlyviper  @thestylestour  @officialsimppage @mrvelscaptains @peterspideysstuff @reemusluupin @perspectiveparker @itsemohours @satanswitchings @okkulta  @parkerlovebot @sarcasticallywitty15 @mati4188 @geminiparkers @jungkxxkk​ @friendlyneighborhood-mendes @whatthefuckimbisexual @olixerwxxd @starkbrain @creatorofthegalaxy @far-from-holland 

@thebloodrobin @florencxs @hermayone  @patricks-fabulous-face @tom-holland-is-bae @creatorofthegalaxy @far-from-holland @captainmarvelnerd @f-hollands​ @ilovefrogs1000​ @catkeeperthetall​ @itstaskeen​

[willyoulovemeinthemorning]

The Cold Never Bothered Me Anyway (1/?)

Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Summary: You are a mutant with the powers of ice and cold and you have never been able to be touched or touch anyone without making them uncomfortable, or worse, hurting them. You’ve always desperately wished for physical affection, and it isn't until a new silver tongued Asgardian moves into the Avengers tower and takes an interest in you that anyone really dares to try to be physical with you.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: This part is pure fluff, but future chapters will be... more. 

Warnings: None for this chapter besides maybe a few cavities!

It had been like this since you’d been a child. You couldn’t remember a life without your ailment. You’d always seen it as a curse more than a blessing- but as you grew up and learned to control it to the best of your abilities, your mind started to change a little bit. Being adopted into Xaviers Academy had been the best thing that could have happened to you. You’d been homeless at the young age of 5 after your third foster family had thrown you out, and Charles had found you sleeping in the snow. It was lucky for you that you didn’t mind the cold at all- your powers were the cold. You could freeze anything, alive or not- and at first that was the problem. You’d frozen your mother’s heart whilst in the middle of a tantrum, and your father met the same fate after he tried to hurt you for doing it. The police found a crying child within hours, surrounded by dead parents and a house full of ice and snow. No one could prove what happened, and no one knew what to do with you from then on. After a life of constant abuse, Charles took you into a world of safety and understanding, and thankfully, that world was really the only world you knew in your conscious mind today.

The trauma was still there, but it was rooted deep in your subconscious mind. Now, as an adult, you’d been taken in to your new chosen family- The Avengers. And your home was no longer at the Academy, it was Avengers Tower. You still taught there every once in a while, whenever Charles called you, but your days were filled with world saving and working out with the worlds mightiest superheroes.

Your best friends in the complex were easily Natasha and Wanda, seeing as you all came from similar lonely backgrounds. It was a quick friendship built on trust, sarcasm, and constant blatant flirting and fucking with eachother. You loved the whole team differently, but Nat and Wanda were definitely special.

Besides them, you were definitely a little… taken with a new member of the household. When Loki was taken in by the Avengers to try and “change” him for the sake of Thor, life definitely got a little… uncomfortable. He was just so attractive, and so sassy and his smart mouth was probably the hottest thing about him. That silver tongue as you’d heard it been called constantly got your mind whirling. The girls mocked you ruthlessly for your crush, but they never pushed it to be more- they both knew your fear of relationships, friendship or otherwise.

Loki, on the other hand, was equally as enamored with you as you were him. He never stopped watching you, trying to learn every facet of your soul as he could from far away. There was something about you, and he looked at you as a puzzle that he desperately wanted to solve.

He loved watching you with your friends- the way you all so effortlessly joked and laughed with eachother- you had what he’d always wanted. An ease with earning love from others with no effort whatsoever. But something that plagued him was the juxtaposition that was your physical affection. You were so jovial and happy with everyone in the house- but you never let anyone touch you. You never touched anyone else either.

At first, he put it to what he knew was your background- abuse and loneliness. Maybe you’d been hurt more than you let on, so you didn’t let people touch you. But he threw out that hypothesis when he spent more time watching you. You always leaned in towards everyone close to you- and they leaned more away as if trying to retreat from your proximity. When with Natasha and Wanda, they always went to touch you, and you just stopped them with a look. It was such a sad look, and Loki longed to understand the pain behind your eyes. The women would pause, sigh, and take their hands back, pull their bodies back, put more distance between you and them, seemingly hurt at having to.

Today was no different. Loki was sitting on a chair in the library by the window with it open, pretending to read a book but actually watching you, while you were lazing on the couch actually reading a book. Something you had both grown very fond of in your time together. Neither of you said much, but you just enjoyed the company of one another with the chill wind coming in from outside. That’s when Natasha came to sit with you. You moved your legs and curled them up into yourself, but something new happened. Natasha, who threw something at you- ah, it was a cookie- to get your attention, and you laughed and ate it while looking at her curiously. She covered herself with a big, thick blanket, and then patted her lap for you to put your legs on top of her. You thought about it, looking pained and unsure, before slowly giving in, your eyes weary with doubt. But… nothing happened. Natasha smiled like the cat who got the cream as she pulled her phone out, and you went back to reading your book with the loveliest look of surprised warmth Loki had ever seen gracing your beautiful features.

After a little while, your eyes started fluttering shut, and you moved yourself so your head was on the red heads lap instead of your legs, and you fell asleep faster than you ever had in your life- a few happy tears falling down your cheeks.

Loki watched you sleep and forgot to put on the facade of reading, which caught the attention of Natasha, who didn’t even look up from her phone. “Whatcha staring at, Loki?” She asked, continuing to scroll.

Loki looked up at her surprise etched into his eyebrows. “Oh, nothing. I just- She’s never let anyone that close to her- how did you do that?” He asked her, eyes falling back to you.

“Y/N doesn’t let anyone touch her because she’s watched them flinch away from how cold she is her whole life. If they’re not flinching away, she hurts them by accident because most of the touches of her life have been dangerous or abusive, and she’s had to protect herself. Her powers don’t ever really turn off, they just… quiet. As long as we’ve been friends, this is the closest I’ve ever gotten to her letting me touch her.” She said, eyes on him now, watching his expressions. “Why do you care to notice?”

His eyes flew back to hers, trying to guard his expression from her knowing gaze. “I was just curious. Trying to figure you all out- she’s been the hardest to understand.” But his eyes falling back to your face gave him away, and when he looked back at Natasha, he knew she knew. She had the decency not to say anything, but the look on her face was enough to make Loki look back to his book and actually try to read this time to avoid any more speculation.

Days passed, and all he could think about was the look on your face when you were able to get some kind of physical affection- and he wanted to see it again. So this time, when he found you in the library like he always did- he didn’t choose the chair by the window. He sat down next to you. You looked up at him, and he could feel your surprise.

You eyed him up and down, and he just smiled that little smile that seemed to be only reserved for you, and started to read. The window was open, as it always was- this was your favorite room, because almost no one came in here besides Loki, and he never seemed to mind your proclivity towards keeping this room cold.

You two were like that for a while, but you started to notice him leaning more towards you- you were already at the end of the couch, so there wasn’t really anywhere for you to go, so you tried to will yourself to calm down and just focus on reading. His presence always calmed you down, he was so charming and kind- well, he was kind to you. You loved watching him read, as his tongue poked out as he was really involved with the words on the page.

Unable to focus on your page in front of you, you instead focused on the way he felt beside you. Normally, when someone was near you, you could feel their warmth radiating off of them- especially Thor and Steve. They seemed to have very naturally high body temperatures, and it made you feel itchy, like there was fire licking at your skin. Vision was one of your favorites to be near- his presence felt like nothing. No warm or cold coming off of him, so completely neutral and it made it very easy to be around him. Loki… well, Loki had never been close enough for you to be able to tell. You expected him to feel like Thor did, seeing as they were both Gods and all, and came from the same place; Asgard. But… Loki felt different. He was… normal? Well, normal for her, that was. He didn’t feel warm, he didn’t feel like anything? He kind of felt like Vision, and that surprised her.

Your curiosity got the better of you, and you scootched a little closer to him, your feet brushing his thigh on the couch next to you. You watched out of the corner of your eye for a reaction- but there was nothing negative. If that had happened with Peter, he would have shivered a little and pulled away from the touch because of how cold you were. Tony would have made a joke like, “Just because the cold doesn’t bother you, Elsa, doesn’t mean the rest of us are like that,” and you’d pull away embarrassed at the reminder of how different you are.

Loki moved again, tucking his feet under himself, which repositioned his upper half to be a centimeter from being arm and arm with you. And considering his button up had the sleeves rolled up and you could see his arm hair- God, you wanted to play with it- you were almost skin to skin. Your hands started shaking and you were about to pull away to protect yourself from the inevitable pain that would come from seeing him flinch away in pain- but before you could, it happened. His skin was pressed up against you, and your heart sped up three times as fast… and nothing bad happened. He didn’t move, he didn’t flinch, his face looked… serene? He looked happy touching you.

Now the gates were open and you needed to know more- know why.

“Loki?” You asked, your head turned to face him.

When he turned to face you, you could feel his breath on your face. “Yes, darling?” You almost choked on your spit- he’d never spoken to you with that endearment before.

“Why- I mean… How? I… Loki-” You tried to get a reasonable sentence out, but the words got caught in your throat as tears started prickling your vision.

Loki put his book down and turned to face you, movements slow as if he was afraid to spook you away. “Can I try something?” He asked, hands in his lap, waiting for permission for something. You nodded dumbly, completely unsure what was about to happen. All you knew was that a door had been opened to something, and you knew there was no going back now. Loki’s hands moved, and your instincts were to pull away from him, but you fought them. You wanted to see what was going to happen here. His hands found yours, and he covered them with his own. His skin was so soft, and you looked down and noticed that his skin started to turn a different color- so you pulled away, worried you were hurting him. But you hadn’t felt a surge of your own power?

You were about to ask him, but he beat you to it with the answer. “Did you know I was adopted? Odin stole me from my home when I was a baby- whether to hurt my people or to use me as a peace making tool, I still haven’t figured out, but I am not really Loki Odinson. I am a Frost Giant from birth, raised as an Asgardian. My birth name is Loki Laufeyson. The blue you just saw was… a piece of my real form, coming out at your touch, not because you were in any way hurting or negatively affecting me… so please, let me-” He reached out again, but this time, one hand found your face, his thumb running over your cheek bone, while the other hand ran over your arm softly. Your eyes fluttered closed- his touch was like nothing you’d ever experienced. He somehow felt the same temperature as you did to yourself. He wasn’t cold or hot, he was just… perfect. The tears that were threatening to spill before finally did, and Loki raised his other hand to cup both sides of your face and wipe away the tears as they fell.

“I’ve finally figured you out. It took longer than it ever has for me, but I’ve done it. I’ve never been so taken with figuring someone out before, not like this. You don’t pull away from people because you don’t want physical affection- you pull away because you’ve never had anyone who could physically handle you. No one’s temperature matched you. You’ve never been able to be touched gently. You’ve never been able to let yourself. You are so strong, my popsicle, but you don’t have to be anymore. I was made to be able to touch you, and be touched by you.” You opened your eyes and took him in in his base form- he was the most beautiful shade of icy turquoise, his eyes red as rubies, and he was touching you. He was touching you so lovingly and so sweetly, you couldn’t stop crying. In all your years, you had never been touched like this. No one ever could. Without a beat, you clambered up into his lap and wrapped your arms around him, sighing when his arms wound their way around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“I’m not hurting you?” You asked, your voice shaking.

“Not in the way you mean, darling, but you are hugging me a little tight.” You felt his chuckle vibrate in your chest, which made you laugh too. “Don’t stop, though.” He whispered into your hair.

“You’re so beautiful, you know. Why don’t you let people see your real self?” You asked, burrowing your face in his neck, pressing your nose into the column of his throat.

“I’ve spent my whole life using my magic to make myself look a certain way- it’s more or less unconscious at this point. And I’m… a little insecure about this form. Very few people have seen me look like this. And it’s never been for a good, healthy reason like this.”

“Well, I’m honored. Thank you for this. No one… no one has ever been able to touch me without it hurting them. Thank you so much, Loki.” After a few more minutes of you straddling him on the couch, wrapped around him, you came to your senses enough to know that this was probably not completely appropriate- so you got off of him as a blush crept from your cheeks to your neck to your chest, smiling shyly and biting your lip.

Loki thought you were beautiful before, but you’d never looked more beautiful than you did right in that moment.

You went back to reading together, enjoying the chill air fill the room from the window, pressed up against one another on the couch- comfortable for the first time in your life.

Part 2

[kiki-shortsnout]

Intimacy prompt 34 and 37 for IronStrange pleaze?.

Oh I think Have I Ever is my favorite work of yours in intimacy because there's no way those 2 will get together without being dramatic first haha XD

Hey! Thank you for the ask, and thank you for the compliment, I'm happy you're enjoying these prompts!

Whew! I'm making some progress on these prompts!

***

‘Do you regret it?’

Tony pulled up his sunglasses so he could give him the full effect of his unimpressed stare.

‘Am I supposed to pluck the context out of thin air, Strange? Regret what?’ he asked, flicking his sunglasses back into place, and sinking his feet further into the scorching sand. He heard the breath leaving the wizard’s lungs as he sat up on the blanket, the shift of bare skin across the fibers of it.

‘No, because you know exactly what I’m talking about.’

Groaning dramatically, Tony flung his arms out behind him to support his weight as he leant back, palms stinging from the heat of the sand, glorious, smoldering heat. He didn’t answer straight away, keeping his gaze locked on Morgan leaping through the frothy waves, Peter a few seconds behind her, just as excited.

‘No. No, I don’t regret it.’

His divorce with Pepper wasn’t something he liked to talk about, but their relationship was well past the point of idle chitchat. Hours wedged together on an alien spaceship would do that. They’d stared at death incarnate together, had given everything they could to stop Thanos, and that formed a connection between people, regardless of their backgrounds.

Magical or not.

Tony sat up, inching closer to the shade Stephen had refused to leave the whole time they’d been at Malibu, and taking a moment to eye up his milky white skin. The man looked like he could get sunburnt in the shade. Using magic to tilt the umbrella so Tony could share, Stephen scooped up the seashells Morgan had found earlier, gleaming treasure she had entrusted him with their safekeeping.

It made him smile, how seriously Stephen treated her, and it made an unusual sensation stir in his chest, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time, not since he’d first started dating Pepper.

‘I think she loved the idea of me, what I could be, what I would’ve been if not for Iron Man,’ Tony said suddenly, watching his kids screech as the Cloak chased after them, shaking water from its fabric, indicating it’d been dunked in saltwater.

‘I wanted to be that man for her, I really did, and she’s still one of the most important people to me, not because she’s the mother of my child, but because I love her. I always will, just not in the way she deserves.’

‘Tony, this wasn’t an excuse for you to start tearing your self-esteem into ribbons,’ Stephen scolded.

‘I’m not, I’m answering your question. I knew, we both knew as soon as I leapt aboard the alien doughnut that it was over. We tried to work past it, all of us left behind in the five years you guys were gone tried to cobble our lives back together, but it…’ Tony sighed, scooping up a handful of sand and gazing at the millions of sun-kissed gems, fragments that created a whole.

‘I get it, I suppose it’s hard to love a hero, it’s hard to understand…unless you’re one yourself.’

‘I don’t blame her for wanting me to give up Iron Man, I get it, I just…couldn’t. I tried, but as soon as you came to me about Thanos, I knew I had to go…I didn’t stop to think about how it might affect her, jumping on another suicide mission.’

Tony reached over Stephen’s ridiculously long legs to reach his can of lemonade he’d left there earlier, grimacing at the warmth of the liquid, but grateful for the way it soothed his dry throat.

‘What about you, asshole, you got a special lady?’ Tony asked, deflecting the conversation.

‘Nope, no special someone,’ Stephen stressed the last part, watching the kids in the water and inhaling deeply.

Now that Tony didn’t know. He should’ve really, after the flirty little wink he’d given when they’d first met, but Tony had chalked that up to the man showing off his impressive skills. Tony wasn’t arrogant enough that he couldn’t admit Stephen had an extraordinary repertoire of skills, and the man could fight…but he didn’t have to verbalize it.

Strange had a big enough head already.

‘You were right, this…this was needed,’ Stephen said, waving a hand at the beach, indicating the this. Tony was distracted by the tremble in his fingers, the slender scars across his fingers and the back of his hands, revealing the trauma, the pain he must have felt having pins in his bones.

He could understand that, the story scars left behind, the proof of their hubris.

‘Well, I promised you both, didn’t I? Once we got back to Earth and everyone was saved, we were going to have a holiday. No outer space travels, no insane alien overlords trying to destroy us. Just us, the sun, sea and warm lemonade,’ Tony held his up in a toast, grinning as Stephen grabbed his own can and clinked the side of it.

Morgan had stopped running in the sea and was now digging a hole in the sand with her bare hands, watching as the tide came in and filled it, trying to create a moat of sorts. Lifting her head, Tony watched the briny breeze tease her salt-crusted tangles away from her face. His love for her startled him at times, how he could love another being as much as this. He loved Peter too, the kid had been his driving force to discover the trick behind time travel, and he’d risked everything to bring him home.

Thinking about them both made other feelings surface too, black oozing things that he tried to suppress, negative feelings about why his own father couldn’t have felt the same, if one day he would treat Morgan and Peter with the same cold-hearted disregard.

‘Tony, hey douchebag, you alright?’

The sun overhead burnt his gaze gold as he lifted his eyes, leaving him dazed and blinking back tears.

‘Yeah, sorry, I’m good.’

‘You drifted away there…anything you want to talk about?’ Stephen asked, his tone careful, trying not to probe.

‘Nah, Doc, just my daddy issues rearing their ugly head again.’

Stephen looked at him then, his aquamarine eyes glowing from the sun’s reflection, and Tony felt like his gaze was burning back the layers he swathed himself in, piercing his body and reading his mind. He couldn’t explain it, but he’d always had the sense Stephen knew more than what he revealed, that he could see things in the fabric of the universe that Tony was blind to.

Fourteen million futures, each a glimpse of a possibility, how many more of them were out there? What else had Stephen seen?

‘Tony, you’re a wonderful parent,’ Stephen argued.

‘How would you know!’ He regretted the snap, knowing it was part of his self-defense mechanism, but Stephen didn’t know him that well yet to recognize it for what it was, and he opened his mouth to apologize when he suddenly found a trembling hand across his mouth.

‘Because I’ve watched you with them. I saw you with Peter on the ship, the sheer horror in your eyes when you thought you’d brought him to his death, I could literally hear your brain trying to think of a way to send him home. With Morgan, Tony, you worship the ground she walks on, you’re caring, attentive…’ Stephen trailed off, a slight redness to his cheeks as he let his hand fall.

Tony went to warn him that he was burning from the sun when he caught sight of Stephen’s gaze fixed on his lips. Feeling daunting, he let the tip of his tongue come out to wet his bottom lip, suppressing his laugh when he saw Stephen’s blush deepen, his gaze turning back towards the sea.

He could do one of two things here. Ignore what had just happened and go back to the carefree attitude they were enjoying at the beach, or address the issue and explore the possibilities of what it could mean for them. Despite how quickly his brain tended to work, the way it could create possible scenarios and see them through in order for him to select the best one, Tony found himself hesitating.

‘When you said it’s hard to love a hero…were you referring to yourself?’ Tony asked.

Stephen didn’t answer for a moment, his gaze now on the Cloak shielding the kids from the worst of the sunshine, its collar dipping down as it tried to examine the castle Peter was building beside Morgan’s moat.

‘It’s not hard to love you,’ Stephen answered, his words nearly lost in the breeze.

‘I’ll have you know it’s near impossible to love me,’ Tony joked, his mouth moving faster than his brain. ‘I’m a mess, I forget about people when I’m inventing, I’ll always put the safety of Earth before my partner-’

Stephen’s mouth on his made his ramblings stop, the touch of shaking fingers on his jaw felt like wind brushing over sunburnt skin, blistering and soothing in equal measure.

‘It’s because of those things that I like you,’ Stephen murmured against his lips. ‘It’s not the idea of you I love, Tony Stark, I know who you are. Fourteen million versions of you.’

Despite the surprise he felt at this revelation, the clench in his gut from the anticipation of what this could mean, Tony smiled against his lips, leaning closer.

‘Sorry I didn’t ask,’ Stephen whispered across his mouth. ‘Can I kiss you again, Tony?’ His free hand covered Tony’s on the sand as the other continued to sweep across his jawbone, down to his throat and back again.

‘I could be persuaded,’ Tony agreed with a laugh, pretending to fight off Stephen’s tongue invading his mouth, falling back to the ground dramatically. ‘Why, Doctor Strange, I didn’t know you had it in you!’ he mock gasped, wriggling away from Stephen’s lunge, and getting to his feet as he scrambled down to the water.

‘Prepare to eat seawater, Stark,’ Stephen growled from behind him, giving chase.

He’d never seen himself in this position five years ago, hadn’t been able to see past the frigid metal walls of the doughnut ship as he hurtled forward on his suicide mission, but he was glad events had led him here. Looking over his shoulder at Stephen’s skin gleaming in the light as he pelted after Tony on the beach, he screamed for Morgan to save him, cackling as she ordered the Cloak to stop the Sorcerer Supreme.

This wasn’t where he saw his life at all, divorced, a beautiful daughter, an all but adopted mutant child, a sentient Cloak and a potential wizard boyfriend, but he was happy.

For the first time in years, he could say with complete honesty that he was content with his life.

[boop-le-snoot]

BUTT-DIAL? NO, BOOTY CALL | tony stark

explicit, 5,4k words. wrong number text, family shame & wedding drama that isn't even his and a ruined first date. despite the implications of the situation, both reader and tony are very entertained. meet-ugly series, part three.

[no y/n, no "you", no name, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns]

💚 masterlist ☀️ taglist & faq 💚

Another sunny day spent wasted in a conference room full of boring, old, conceited chairmen. Tony Stark vehemently refused to commiserate with them, their boring speeches and blunt, straightforward thinking. Sitting through a meeting was like walking on nails barefoot: painful, pointless. Mind-numbing.

His phone beeped loudly and he reached into his pocket, pretending to not see Pepper's disapproving look. Both of them knew he was hoping for a sudden Assemble call - that would surely get him out of the meeting - but as much as he hoped, they never struck at the right time.

Except, this time it wasn't a call for assistance, and neither it was an automated spam message with Pizza Hut promo codes. Tony's eyebrows drew close and his lips upturned as he read and re-read the obvious rant written on his screen, typing up his answer before he managed to resist the morbid curiosity that was fueled by his boredom.

Whoever it was, they were justifiably angry and the whole situation was almost too comical to be true, except he'd known people exactly like the runaway bride, selfish, greedy and stupid. He totally understood the woman's desire to just go and load up on tequila shots somewhere - so he bid her a haste farewell, all the while snickering to himself.

"It's Rogers," Tony offered in the way of explanation to a glaring Pepper, locking his phone away and settling in to continue pretending he was listening as another old, crusty white man offered his input on topics he was too much of a dinosaur to even really know about.

He couldn't stop thinking about the incident over the days, the story making him snort more times than he could count as the memory randomly crossed his mind in the lab, at the coffee pot or during dinner. So when a message came through from that very same number, the smirk snuck up onto his face before he even read its contents.

A brief crash course in memes from Parker had turned out to be more useful than ever. Irritating Rogers with pictures got old very fast, however, in moments Tony got rendered speechless they proved to be the perfect substitute for trying to articulate all his thoughts on the matter.

Celebrity appearance, she said? More likely than one would think. The engineer had nearly doubled over in a fit of laughter when she'd texted him that; obviously, the woman had no clue who she was texting with and he decided to further indulge in his curiosity by asking for her name: Friday did the rest.

A phone number and a name, ten minutes, and all her social media were free for him to stalk. Investigate- uh, observe. With little effort, Tony found both her and her brother, the unlucky groom, and the runaway bride and even her step-dad. On paper, they all looked like average middle-class families. Nothing seemed amiss.

It didn't mean anything, but Tony caught himself thinking about the woman. Perhaps it might have been the mischievous gleem in her eyes that was easily spotted in every picture or perhaps the raunchy sense of humour not much different from his own. Pretty, witty and smart - what's there not to like?

"So that's why you've been going around, smiling like a middle-schooler with a crush," Natasha's voice whisper-shouted in Tony's ear as the spy discreetly peered over his shoulder into his phone. He had the chat pulled up, debating on starting a casual conversation-

"Jesus Christ, Romanoff, somebody needs to put a bell on you," Tony snapped, startled, pressing the button to lock his phone immediately.

"Uhuh," The redhead replied, side-eyeing a snickering Barnes. "Who is she?"

Tony rubbed his face, feeling the beginnings of a blush starting to creep in. He felt like he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to and the rest of the team acting like children wasn't helping the matter. "I got a butt-dial text about some wedding drama. Some chick's brother's fiance was fucking her own stepdad and ditched the wedding for her old man."

Stunned silence settled briefly into the room as Romanoff's eyes widened and Barnes choked on his orange juice. Serves him right, Tony thought, and continued his coffee-making process in quiet irritation.

"Wait, wait, hold on," Wilson half-laughed half-yelled. "You gotta spill the tea, man, this sounds too good to be true. Stories like that just don't fall into your hands."

With a sigh, he recounted the woman's story and read the texts aloud, silencing his snickering enough to be able to keep a straight face - but not for long, Rogers decided it was the time for another one of his Captain America Is Disappointed In You speeches and Tony himself couldn't even disagree.

Now that he thought about it, he came off as a kind of asshole. She and her family was going through something traumatic and he went and treated it like free entertainment. Which, to be fair, it was, but she didn't deserve to be treated like a circus clown. She actually seemed like a good sister and friend.

"Just text her," Natasha rolled her eyes at him, grabbing the coffee pot out of his frozen hand. "You're not Steve, you can keep a decent conversation via text."

Being compared to Steve and his pre-historic messaging habits really did a number on Tony's ego; the eyeroll he gave Romanoff was truly out of this world, all but teleporting him to his lab where he tried to find a way to approach the woman without coming off as incredibly creepy, as if the fact that he'd stalked her on social media didn't already put him firmly into the weirdo category.

Most likely, Tony would have spent many many days on overthinking before just grabbing one of his suits to make a truly impressive landing on her small balcony downtown; thankfully, fate had intervened and saved him from making another epic mistake. He'd made a note to ask Thor about it sometime, settling down with his tablet and popcorn bowl to watch TV on the team's movie night.

Or, more precisely, Tony settled in to watch the drama unfold as the various members of the team fought tooth and nail for the film that they wanted to watch. He never cared about it much, dozing off halfway through most of them - his teammates had the worst taste in movies - so he didn't bother joining the scuffle except when it was Peter's turn to pick. For obvious reasons.

"If you can't decide I'm gonna have someone else pick a movie," Natasha rolled her eyes, equally fed up with fully grown adults acting like spoiled toddlers.

With a stutter of his breath, Tony's hand reached for his phone as he had an Idea.

Seconds tickled as the "typing..." bubble appeared and disappeared multiple times. She must think he's just a thirsty frat boy; Tony's brow furrowed, but the curiosity was far too strong in him. Something about her vibe, her feisty nature captivated him and kept him thinking about her.

The agreement came as a surprise. In the two minutes the woman had spent thinking up her answer, Tony prepared himself to be rebuffed gently, or, worst case, be called a creep. But no - she agreed, but not before vehemently insisting that if he would end up being a creepy serial killer, she would haunt his ass for the remainder of his life.

Friday couldn't come soon enough. Tony spent most of the day loitering between his lab and the penthouse, glancing at his phone every now and then to make sure she wouldn't cancel on him last minute. The engineer wanted to see the witty, no-filter-having woman in the flesh.

And see her, he did. He'd pulled up in front of the hole-in-the wall Ramen&Bar place Clint had been raving about weeks prior - contrary to popular belief, Tony was perfectly fine with going to places that didn't have Michelin stars - and leaned against the door of his Audi R8, eyes immediately taking note of the figure calmly walking down the street, head tilted down where she was typing up a reply to him.

Tony smirked as she lifted her face up to see him, mouth immediately falling open. The shock was obvious; it lasted mere seconds until her shoulders dropped and she sighed almost... In disappointment. He frowned.

"I jinxed it, didn't I? Here's my celebrity appearance," The laugh was a little nervous and quite sardonic. "Hi, Tony, nice to finally see you."

He smiled, unsure, quipping back easily. "Let's face it, I'm not the worst famous Tony out there." Opening the door of the building for the woman, she stepped in eagerly enough, eyes immediately falling on the bartender and the few dimly lit tables in the back.

"Not by any means," She turned towards him, walking backwards. Tony met her stare; it was just like he'd imagined it to be, curious, mischievous and a little daring. She didn't even attempt to play subtle, raking over him from head to toe. "Not at all, I think," She gave another teasing smile, finally turning around, addressing the bartender and rattling off her order without as much as looking at the menu.

Tony couldn't stop staring. He was aware it was creepy, she was aware of his clever brown eyes barely paying attention to their surroundings or the beer or the food. The woman just quirked an eyebrow every time she caught him. His curiosity couldn't wait any more. "Why aren't you freaking out?" He blurted out, cursing himself out almost immediately after the words left his mouth.

"My almost-sister-in-law was fucking her own stepdad," The woman deadpanned. "I ran out of fucks to give, sorry." She thoughtfully chewed her food, briefly looking to the side. "Not to sound like an asshole, but don't you have enough people fawning over you? Doesn't it get old?"

Tony nodded, choosing to stay silent on the matter besides offering an amicable, "That's valid."

The mischief lit up again in her eyes. "You look taller on TV," She snorted, immediately falling into a fit of laughter at his face full of outrage. He sputtered, muttering something about audacity of some people, which made her only laugh harder. "Here's a pro tip from my 4'11 bestie: when someone calls you short, you snarl at them and say you're fun-sized. She swears by it," The woman remarked conversationally, grinning a two hundred watt smile.

Tony was glad at least someone was enjoying their little... Date. "And you know all about fun, don't you?" He aimed for grumpy; it came out as teasing. His famous smirk made a return appearance as he watched her throat bob.

The atmosphere between them had changed at some point; the same old routine of teasing and dancing around each other, but this time, Tony all but purred in satisfaction, finally meeting someone who was an even match to his wit and charm.

"I do," She replied with that cocky confidence, her devil eyes lighting up, lingering on his face. "Got a problem with that?"

The plate was pushed away, napkin falling into the food carelessly as he gestured for the waiter to bring the check. "As a scientist, I cannot confirm whether a theory is true until I have direct evidence," The bullshit flowed easily from his mouth, but the woman appeared to be amused by it - for a change. "M'fraid I'm gonna need that evidence," His fingers drummed on the table, impatiently, inches away from her hand.

"Of course, Mr. Stark," Her voice dropped, she was fully aware of what she was doing by calling him that. That, and those deep, magnetic eyes made Tony's trousers feel a little too tight for comfort.

His phone rang loudly, dissipating the atmosphere they had created with a shrill noise. Captain Cockblock struck again.

Fumbling fingers, Tony tapped the green icon, shooting an apologetic look to the woman. "Rogers, there better be another alien invasion or I'm revoking your phone privileges," The woman chortled, taking a sip of her beer, trying hard not to seem like she was listening in and failing spectacularly at it. "Today, out of all days? Can't Strange fill in for me?" The engineer palmed his face, running a hand through his neatly done-up hair. It would be covered in soot and sweat in an hour anyways. "Fine, I'll be there in twenty minutes. Romanoff better be hauling Barton's lazy ass out of Bed-Stuy." With a frown, Tony poked the red icon and stuffed the phone back in his pocket, looking for all and all, like an angry adolescent.

The woman, however, didn't indicate any signs of displeasure. Her hand timidly reached out for his, giving it a brief squeeze. "Go, save the world, Mr. Stark," Her smile was sympathetic. They both stood up at the same time, Tony watching her incredulously as the woman untied a scrap of red fabric from around her neck and placed it around his wrist, tying the fabric with a loose but, frankly, pretty knot. "I like that bandanna, would be a shame if you didn't return it," She explained, shrugging her shoulders.

Tony snorted, fondly rolling his eyes, before beelining for the door, activating his Iron Man suit on the way out. Turning around before take off, he noticed her throw a couple of crumpled bills to the server who was too busy ogling him.

He forgot to pay for dinner, Tony realized as he made his way to the other part of the city. Well, fuck, he would definitely have to see her again.

---

An alien invasion during her first good date in ages - scribble, scribble, sigh. She couldn't do much more than that - just as she thought her string of bad luck had ended, the world turned around and flipped her a juicy bird, all but laughing straight in her face. Like that already wasn't enough, oh no, she groused as she spied the debris and random abandoned cars on her way home - it looked like some portion of the battle had been close to her home and only the sheer mental exhaustion that resulted from her life being turned upside down during the last month prevented her from having a full-on freak-out in the middle of the eerily quiet street.

Truly, the fucks she had to give had been expired.

The gloomy mood was interrupted by a cry - for help or of outrage, she didn't know, but the kindness in her, the very values she'd been raised with didn't allow her just to walk by, and with another resigned sigh, she tucked the nice blouse she'd put on for the date under her warm sweater and set off in the direction of the sound, finding the culprit in little under a couple of minutes.

Freeing the trapped civilian wasn't easy but, thankfully, neither it required super-strength or any kind of heavy machinery. The man thanked her and with him in tow, both of them set off to inspect nearby nooks and crannies. Logic won that day - if there's was one person, there could be more.

Hours later, sweaty, sore and bruised, the woman greedily chugged the water bottle someone had passed onto her as the amount of medics and firefighters had finally reached the threshold of when her help wasn't needed anymore. While her date and his colleagues fought whatever nasty that thought NYC was a sandbox battleground for their amusement, the woman found herself helping out with retrieval & evacuation of the civilians that didn't make it out of the neighborhood before the heat of the fight reached it. There were no deaths registered as of then and deep inside, she felt proud, knowing that she had contributed to the statistic at least a little.

Her phone was dying, her body was covered in dirt and scratches from head to toe and the bruises were beginning to ache. Tony's worry-worting was cute but the tiredness overcame her, making her brain sluggish and her demeanor short, so she hastily pocketed the phone, trailing over to the closest man in uniform she could spot.

"Sir?" She addressed him, eyeing the unfamiliar logo on his jacket. "Can I go, please?" She pointed to the yellow tape surrounding the makeshift medical station.

"I'm going to have to see your ID first," He replied apologetically, tapping away on his tablet.

With a sigh, she dug through her purse, giving it to him and using the brief moment of respite to smooth back her hair and dust off her clothing. There was a cloud of concrete and dirt surrounding her.

"I'm afraid I can't let you go just yet, Mr. Stark left strict instructions for you to be picked up by him personally," The agent gave the ID back with a suspicious glint in his eye.

"Oh c'mon," The annoyed whine escaped her lips before she registered it. "It was our first date," She offered to the puzzled agent, only succeeding in making him lean back and inspect her with a raised eyebrow. "Bye," She replied none too kindly, walking off to find a place to sit down.

The time passed in a strange way. The aches and pains and exhaustion made it stop, and if someone would have asked her, she wouldn't know how much of it has passed until her eyes reluctantly cracked open at the sound of a familiar voice, coming to see a pair of expensive shoes covered in dust. At least she wasn't the only one that looked like she'd taken a roll through someone's gritty attic.

"Morning, you Tasmanian Devil," Tony sounded jovial, all things considered.

"Hello to you too, Tin Can," The woman greeted him on par, without missing a beat.

"Now, now," He offered her his hand, which she took gratefully, before pulling her to her feet. "I come with peace offerings. Your building is under quarantine and I've got a perfectly good bed and a shower with thirty settings on it at my place. Whatcha say?"

She only pretended to think about it. Her reply was haste. "I don't make a habit of going into strange dudes' towers but I'll make an exception this once." A shower and a bed sounded heavenly.

Finally getting the chance to look at him, Tony appeared to be unhurt but equally exhausted and dirty. A few scrapes on his face and arms, he was missing his blazer, and had a weary tone to his face. Some parts of his Iron Suit were still on him - like the chest plate - but besides that, he was whole. The red of the bandanna she gave him was equally dirty but still neatly tied around his wrist, just like she left it.

"How's your relationship with heights?" He asked her and all she could do was blink, watching curiously as his body was enveloped by the red and gold, crawling over his skin like a swarm of shiny termites. That was all the warning she got before the metal arms - quite literally - sweeped her off her feet. "Faster this way," She could hear the nonchalant shrug in the metallic voice coming from the helmet. "Now hold on."

Awe and fear culminated inside the woman but the weariness had long since surpassed comfortable levels and all she did was give a weak nod and close her eyes as Tony lifted off, gusts of wind making her skin break out in goosebumps and her hair stand up wildly on her head. During the short trip her eyes fluttered open only once just to close back up immediately - all she saw were clouds, white and fluffy, like marshmallows, and the shining beacons of NYC skyscrapers somewhere far away.

The paralyzing anxiety fully dissipated only when her feet found purchase on the tiled floors, Tony's arms never ceasing to support her swaying frame until the breaths she took were her own and not the result of her fluttering heart and muted panic. "You with me, Wonder Woman?"

"Yes, Weird Science," She mumbled. "Thanks for the heads up," The annoyance had to find a way out and that it did.

"You're welcome," The cocky smirk returned to Tony's face as his suit receded, leaving him barefoot, dirty jeans and a torn tee. He stretched with a sweet groan, gesturing towards the door. "Friday will direct you towards the showers. Feel free to grab a t-shirt from the closet."

The woman nodded, too awestruck by the man and his hospitality, eyes darting all over the tastefully decorated room, the expensive knick-knacks scattered everywhere, the absolutely enormous sloppily made bed. Tony Stark liked to live luxuriously - even the shower was a state of the art technological wonder.

Dirty pants and dusty blouse went flying somewhere in the back of the bathroom as the woman stood up on her tippy toes, reaching for the sky, stretching her sore muscles. The glass wall of the shower had began to fog up from the hot water. The knock went barely noticed by the woman who jumped as Tony's voice startled her out of her daydream.

"Forgot I ran out of towels here..." He trailed off, voice dropping as he spotted her only in her underwear. She turned, responding with a lopsided grin, spying the stack of fluffy grey in his arms, the arc reactor in the middle of his bare chest. He smirked, "Damn. Can I join you?" Giving her what only could be described as a respectful once-over.

Tired as she was, her sense of humour and wit didn't go down for a much needed nap just yet. "I don't know, you tell me. Can you?" Turning back around, the woman made a short show of unclasping her bra and tossing it in the general vicinity of her dirty clothing pile. She'd worn a cute matching set of undies that day and the fact didn't go over Tony's head, she was sure.

The door clicked shut just as she raised her face to the stream of water, feeling calmer with each second, muscles relaxing themselves as the hot stream washed away the dirt and the dust off her body.

"And I thought this evening was ruined," Tony's voice insinuated from behind her. A hand reached for the soap, his body heat scorching compared to the steaming water. He stayed just a few inches away, enough to feel him, enough for her body to respond and crave more. "It's nice to be wrong for a change. Refreshing."

The woman hummed, reaching up to run her fingers through her wet, knotted hair. "First decent evening in ages. I wasn't gonna let some uninvited Predator knock-offs ruin it for me," She was more than a little peeved at the space invaders interrupting her nice date. Tony was a great conversationalist, it was easy to talk to him and he had a brilliant sense of humour. Not to mention the obvious, he was easy on the eyes.

"That's the spirit," The voice was closer now, almost in her ear. Even though her eyes were closed, the woman was aware he was reaching for something, letting him butt her hands out of the way to lather her hair, scrubbing at her scalp meticulously, until the sounds that left her mouth bordered on embarrassing. Once that was done, Tony moved onto her body, running his hands over her back, the outside of her hips. "M'not stepping over, am I?" He asked quietly, touch faltering every time he brushed over a scrape or a bruise.

"No, you're doing great, Tony," It wasn't exactly conventional - sharing a very intimate shower after an interrupted first date, but then again, nothing about this man was conventional and her life had already been turned upside down no less than twice recently. The woman didn't lie, the gentle, caring touch felt soothing.

Arching her back, she lifted her arms to repay him with the same, raking her fingers through his hair, leaning into the shudder that ran throughout his body. It was nice to bask in whatever they had going on, so the motion to face him was almost reluctant. Water droplets stuck to his eyelashes and his eyes were tired but not in a way that suggested he'd kick her out first chance.

Their kiss was sweet, slow, like they already were familiar with each other in a special way. The woman tugged on his lip with her teeth - such was her character - and he pressed closer to her, raising a hand to hold the side of her face. In muted curiosity, she couldn't help but wonder if there ever had been someone that waited for him once his battles were over.

Tony's eyelashes, the very same that had no business being this long on a man, fluttered against her cheek as they stood under the shower, letting water wash away the day.

"I've always wanted to kiss in the rain, like they do in the movies. This is the closest I've gotten," She whispered, gently kneading the arch of his shoulders. "Feels better than it looks, to be honest."

Tony snorted, reaching for the knob to turn it off. "Cheesy," He teased her, wrapping a warm, fluffy towel around her body. Both people made quick work of drying themselves, exiting the fogged up bathroom, making way into the bedroom, padding soft on the carpet and falling down on the bed carelessly.

"I'm the queen of cheesy one-liners," The woman raised her eyebrows, scooting under the sheets next to Tony who opened his arms wide, a smirk on his face. She didn't give him the chance to reply, slotting her lips over his instead and groaning as their heated bodies once again rested against each other.

She ran her hands over Tony's defined pecs, glossing over the arc reactor, raked nails over his tummy, eating up the sighs leaving his mouth at the gesture. He was a beautiful man, she wasn't going to lie to herself. The warmth that settled low in her belly grew, spreading throughout her limbs and temporarily overshadowing the exhaustion.

The engineer, too, was quite excited - his erection poked her hip - and content to be steered to her wishes by the hand in his hair. Groans and sighs left his moist, parted lips as his eagerness bled into his hands, grip firm and steady on the panting woman's hips.

Adrenaline did something to her body, caused it to ache sweetly, a hunger to be satisfied only by a lover's touch. And touch she did; her mouth tasted him, alternating sucking gentle marks onto his throat and nibbling on the skin stretched thinly over his collarbones. Tony's sighs grew in depth and volume with every silent action of worship.

No inch of his body was left untouched, the woman was an all-hands-on-deck kind of lover, happily making her way down until soft lips wrapped around the crown of his cock, making his hips arch into it, hands fisted in the soft white sheets. "You devil," Tony gasped out, limbs turning to jelly, watching the woman all but devour his cock.

She popped off minutely, a trail of sticky saliva running down her chin, sticking to his glistening cock. "The power of Christ compels me?" With a smirk, her tongue trailed from his balls to the very tip, paying extra attention to the frenulum, making Tony shudder and gasp out an embarrassed laugh.

"Uh-uh," Stripped of his usual snark, he was but a man at her mercy.

"It's not very compelling," The predatory stretch of her lips widened as she took mercy on him, giving his cock a few slow tugs with her hand. Her mouth, her hand and his cock were dripping. "Gonna let me do all the legwork, Mr. Stark?" She sat up straighter, inadvertently drawing his eyes to the apex of her thighs where the woman's sex glistened in the dim light, lips swollen and inviting.

It sounded like she was mocking him, teasing him, egging him into a lustful frenzy none of them had the energy for but craved anyway. Tony Stark wasn't the one to back down from a fair challenge so he relented, flipping them over with ease, landing between her spread legs, eyes drawn to the momentary bounce of her breasts. Tony wasted no time in suckling a hard nipple into his mouth, humming in response to her choked-off moan of surprise.

"Tony," Her body arched into his touch, tender skin hot under the callouses on his fingertips.

"Yes, demon, dear?" A lopsided grin and laughter in his eyes preceded the wet stripe Tony licked down to her navel. "Wasn't there something about not telling demons your name? Guess you have power over me now," He trailed off cheekily, soft breaths puffing over her mound.

The woman bit her lip, peering down to rake a hand through Tony's hair, snagging a fistful to gently steer him towards her pussy. Tony's smile was one of satisfaction as he obediently followed her silent order, nosing along the line of her cunt, dipping his tongue to run slow, sloppy lines through the soaked folds.

"Fuck," She mumbled, spreading her legs without shame. "Yeah, right there," Her fingers turned white at the agility of Tony's tongue on her clit. He was swift and relentless in pursuit of the spots that made her moan and clench around nothing. The moisture of her sex soaked his goatee but he couldn't care less.

He growled when she attempted to withdraw, wrapping his muscular arms around her thighs to keep her still for his pleasure, wringing noises that increased in volume with every stroke of his tongue on her sex.

"Tony- please, Tony, I'm gonna-" The warning was brief; her back arched as a broken moan found its way past her moist, parted lips, her pussy spasmed, dripping all over his face and the sheets.

The engineer hid his smile against her thigh, discreetly wiping the obscene amounts of moisture she produced. It wasn't very long until her hands, slightly shaky, were tugging him upwards to meet his face in a rushed, graceless kiss. There was an equal lack of finesse in the glide of his erection along her sex.

"Okay?" He mumbled into her ear, lining himself up with her fluttering cunt.

"Please," She gasped, her hands pushing his hips onto her, eagerly lifting up to accept the sweet intrusion.

There was a quiet stutter in both of their breathing, hearts thudding against their ribs as he finally bottomed out, the thickness of him nestled snugly inside the rippling muscle. The pace he started out was agonizingly slow and inexplicably sweet, neither of them wanting to end their coupling prematurely but not being able to hold back the need that consumed them both.

"Fuck, you're so good to me," Tony's mumbling was overshadowed by the slick sounds coming from the place they were joined. "Gonna fill up this pretty pussy."

The woman keened at the idea, digging her nails into his ass, pulling him further into her.

"You'd like that?" He picked up the pace, blunt tip of his cock catching up with the tail end of her previous orgasm and re-lighting the fire in her belly anew.

"Yeah, Tony, please," No trace of the previous coyness in her voice, the woman was more than ready to beg, murder and steal to feel the man come undone in her arms.

It didn't take long, not with the adrenaline making their blood sing and the chemistry they shared. The brutal pace of Tony's hips quickly grew sloppy and erratic, the tightening of her inner muscles egging him on. He chased his release with deep, powerful thrusts that had the bedsheets rustle pitifully and beads of clear swear drip down his forehead.

As soon as her body arched once more, Tony let go of his control, slotting himself deeply into her spasming heat, cock throbbing as he painted her insides white with his seed, groaning incomprehensible compliments and profanities through his teeth. Chest heaving, the engineer couldn't do much more but let himself carefully fall onto her chest, aftershocks making him twitch when the woman began running a gentle hand through his hair.

"We're doing this again," He decided, still breathless but already a step ahead. She laughed.

Tony Stark taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @downeyreads @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @slothspaghettiwrites @bluecrazedandbeautiful

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 130

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,820ish

Summary: The battle for the Infinity Stones begins, both on Earth and on Titan.

Previously on Out Of Time…

“I went forward in time to view alternate futures,” Strange panted. “To see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict.”

“How many did you see?” Star-Lord wonders.

“14,000,605.”

“How many did we win?” Tony asked.

Strange stared intently at Tony for a moment, almost sad like. Before looking past him at Y/N. “One.”

Everyone turned to look where Strange was looking. Y/N was still standing, with green eyes and green energy encircling her head. Tony rushed over, grasping Y/N by the arms.

“Y/N!” Tony called, trying gently to shake her out of whatever was happening. “Come on, honey. Push through!”

“Mr. Stark, what’s happening to her?” Peter asked worriedly. 

“The Time Stone is controlling her,” Strange answered. 

“Y/N, come on!” Tony continued, shaking her again.

Gasping dramatically, Y/N fell forward into Tony. The Time Stone’s energy evaporated into the air as Y/N tried to cling onto Tony.

“It’s okay, I got you,” Tony responded, holding onto Y/N. “I got you.”

From over Tony’s shoulder, Y/N met Strange’s gaze. He knew what she had seen and been told. He shook his head as if to tell her that she couldn’t say anything. She clenched her eyes shut and tried to hold Tony closer. 

“It’s okay, we’re okay,” Tony continued to try and calm Y/N. “I’ve got you.”

“We need a plan,” Y/N whispered. “And fast.” She pulled away, looking into Tony’s eyes. “Before it’s too late.”

~~~

The small team came up with a plan and were all heading for their places. Tony grabbed Y/N’s arm, stopping her, and pulled her in for a deep kiss.

“You are worth more than their lives, you understand?” He whispered. “You do anything to get the Stones and survive.”

“I understand,” she responded with a nod. “The same goes for you.”

“I love you,” he breathed out before pulling her in for another kiss. He was clearly pouring everything into it, like it could be their last. “Say safe.” Then he walked away.

Thanos appeared not long after everyone had gotten into position. It was clear to Y/N that he had used the Space Stone to create a portal to get there. Thanos studied his surroundings, stopping at Maw’s destroyed ship. Strange was sitting on some steps to the side of Thanos, with Y/N hiding behind a post. She had never sensed this many Stones at once. Thanos had successfully retrieved the Reality, Space, Power, and Soul Stones. He only needed two more.

“Oh, yeah, you’re much more of a Thanos,” Strange commented, turning Thanos’ attention to him.

“I take it the Maw is dead,” Thanos stated, taking a few steps towards Strange. “This day extracts a heavy toll. Still, he accomplished his mission.”

“You may regret that. He brought you face-to-face with the Master of the Mystic Arts.”

“And where do you think he brought you?”

“Let me guess. Your home?”

Thanos smiled reminiscently. “It was. And it was beautiful.” 

Thanos curled his gauntleted fist, activating the Reality Stone. As buzz formed in Y/N’s head as the planet changed to look like what it was before it was destroyed. Green lawns, intact buildings, water-filled ponds. There were strolling citizens and structures hovering above the surface.

“Titan was like most planets,” Thanos continued. “Too many mouths, and not enough to go around. And when we faced extinction, I offered a solution.”

“Genocide,” Strange stated.

“But at random, dispassionate, fair to rich and poor alike. They called me a madman. And what I predicted came to pass.” Relaxing his fist, the Reality Stone stopped glowing and the illusion faded.

“Congratulations. You're a prophet.”

“I’m a survivor.”

“Who wants to murder trillions.”

“With all six stones, I could simply snap my fingers, and they would all cease to exist. I call that... mercy.”

Strange stood up. “And then what?”

“I finally rest... and watch the sun rise on a grateful universe. The hardest choices require the strongest wills.”

Summoning his magical shields, Strange entered a fight pose. “I think you'll find our will equal to yours.”

“Ours?”

Looking up, Thanos saw a chunk of wreckage descending rapidly on him, too rapidly to react. He was quickly crushed by it.

“Piece of cake, Quill,” Tony commented, flying in.

Triggering his mask, Quill followed. “Yeah, if your goal was to piss him off!” He responded.

The wreckage on top of Thanos erupted in purple and he bellowed in rage. Using the Reality Stone, he turned the hovering fragments into a flock of bats, swarming Iron Man with them and driving him back through the ruins. Spider-Man then webbed Thanos’ eyes and swung in to kick him in the face. At the same time, Drax appeared, blades in both hands. He knee-slid behind Thanos and cut the back of the villain’s knee.

Dr. Strange jumped through a portal and summons a sword of magic energy. He dueled with Thanos as Drax attacked similarly on the other side. Thanos punched Drax through a ruined wall, then shattered Strange’s blade and tore the webs from his eyes. He advanced on Dr. Strange and kicked at him, but Strange’s shield absorbed the damage and the cloak lifted Strange from the ground.

Star-Lord began shooting Thanos from behind. Thanos used the Power Stone to shoot balls of energy at Star-Lord while Star-Lord leapt towards Thanos using magical platforms thrown in his path by Strange. The las one was placed above Thanos’ head and Star-Lord flipped over him and slapped a bomb onto the Titan’s back. Star-Lord sticked his landing, disengaged his helmet and flipped Thanos the bird.

“Boom!” Quill exclaimed, falling backward into a portal.

The explosion from the bomb on Thanos’ back, knocked the Titan to his knees, dazing him briefly. Y/N was still behind the post, breathing heavily cause of the Stones. The plan was for Y/N to stay there until called in. Strange and Tony were both at the understanding that nothing could happen to her. She watched as Strange’s clock swooped off his shoulders and wrapped itself tightly around Thanos’ armored hand. Strange then started to throw portals everywhere, Spider-Man leaping through them to attack Thanos.

“Magic!” Spider-Man exclaimed as he put Thanos in the head before disappearing in a portal and reappearing above. “More magic!” He yanked the Titan’s head down hard, then leapt into another portal. “Magic with a kick!” Spider-Man delivered a flying kick before disappearing and reappearing once again. “Magic with a—“

Before Spider-Man could finish, Thanos turned and grabbed him from the air. He threw Spider-Man to the ground, with a hand around his neck.

“Insect!” Thanos yelled.

Thanos threw Spider-Man at Dr. Strange, knocking them both down. As Thanos tore the cloak away from his hand, Iron Man began bombarding him with fiery explosives. Thanos sucked all the flame into the gauntlet using the Power Stone and fired it in a stream at Iron Man. Tony was hit dead on, sending him plowing through a massive fallen machine far away.

Y/N had had enough of sitting on the sidelines. Appearing in front of Thanos, her fists were glowing purple.

“What have we here?” Thanos asked, clearly unimpressed.

“Stop hurting the people I care about,” Y/N growled.

Pushing her hands forwards, she blasted Thanos back. Regaining himself, Y/N marched forward, hands glowing purple once again. It was then that something on his gauntlet caught his eye. The Power Stone was glowing, yet not because of him. Y/N blasted him again, pushing him further into the debris. 

“Impossible!” Thanos exclaimed, rising from the rumble. “You’re channeling the Stones. How?”

“Does it really matter?” Y/N retorted.

She fired another beam at him, only for him to clench his fist and fire one in return. Both beams were from the Power Stone. They collided in the middle, sending both attackers crashing backwards. Tony quickly flew in and picked Y/N up, flying her to safety as Thanos fired at them.

“Stay here!” Tony ordered, dropping Y/N carefully. “Wait for the signal!”  

“Tony! I could—“

“No! Stay there!"

Spider-Man leaped from behind while Thanos concentrated his fire on Iron Man. He webbed the gauntlet and dropped down in front of Thanos, pulling hard. Thanos yanked on the web-line, pulling the teenage towards him and punching him on his way past. The Titan then teared the webbing free of the gauntlet just in time for a small spaceship to attempt to crash-land on him. The ship dragged Thanos along for a distance, burying him under debris. Thanos stood just as the pilot jumped in a great arc to punch him, landing in front of him with an energy-blade at the ready.

“Well, well,” Thanos chuckled.

“You should have killed me,” the mostly robotic woman replied.

“It would’ve been a waste of parts!”

The robotic woman ran at Thanos, attacking him. “Where’s Gamora?!”

Thanos punched her away. Dr. Strange reappeared and used his magic to pin the gauntlet, pulling Thanos’ fingers open and trying to pry the gauntlet off his hand. The Titan tried to pull free just at Drax slid in. Drax kicked the Titan’s knee, knocking him off balance, before wrapping himself around Thanos’ kneeling leg.

Star-Lord shot an electric trap onto the ground, the tangle-field holding down Thanos’ unarmored hand. Spider-Man swung in, webbed Thanos’ chest and then wrapped it around behind him. Peter used his spider legs to anchor himself into the ground. 

Dr. Strange opened a portal straight above Thanos, which Mantis dropped throw. She landed on the Titan’s shoulders and placed her hand on his temples. He bellowed as she tried to put him under.

“Is he under?” Tony asked. “Don’t let up.”

“Be quick,” Mantis said, starting to cry. “He is very strong.”

 “Y/N!” Tony shouted, beginning to pull on the gauntlet. “You’re up!”

Y/N portaled over there. She studied the Titan in front of her before choosing to focus on the Stones. She needed to get them off the gauntlet while they tried to get the gauntlet off his hand.

“Parker, help!” Tony ordered. “Get out here.” Peter dropped his web-line and hurried over to help Tony. “She can’t hold him much longer. Let’s go.”

Star-Lord flied over to join the others and stood in front of Thanos, tauntingly. “I thought you’d be harder to catch,” he said. “For the record, this was my plan. Not so strong now, huh? Where is Gamora?”

“My Gamora…” Thanos mumbled.

“No, bull-shit. Where is she?”

Mantis gasped in shock. “He is in anguish,” she told everyone.

“Good.”

“He… he mourns,” Mantis cried.

“What does this monster have to mourn?” Drax laughed.

“Gamora,” the robotic woman stated solemnly.

“What?” Quill questioned.

“Its…” Y/N whispered, feeling Thanos’ thoughts as she tried to focus on the Stones, who were fighting her back. “It’s his…”

“No! Y/N! Focus on the Stones!” Tony interrupted. “You can do this! Destiny and all that crap, right?”

“Nebula,” Quill pressed the robotic woman for an explanation.

“He took her to Vormir,” Nebula said in sadness. “He came back with the Soul Stone… but she didn’t.”

Tony quickly de-helmeted. “Okay, Quill, you gotta cool it right now, you understand?” Tony tried to get Star-Lord’s attention as the man slowly turned to Thanos. “Don't, don't, don't engage, we've almost got this off!”

“Tell me she’s lying,” Quill demanded. “Asshole! Tell me you didn’t do it!”

“I… had… to….” Thanos slowly got out.

“No, you didn’t! No, you didn’t!” Quill pistol whipped Thanos twice in the face, causing Mantis to let go in pain. “NO, YOU DIDN’T!”

“Quill!” Tony shouted. He leapt for Star-Lord’s arm, re-helmeting and leaving Spider-Man with the gauntlet. “Hey, stop! Hey, stop! Stop! Hey, stop! Stop!”

“It’s coming! It’s coming!” Peter announced. “It’s coming! I got it! I got it—“

Suddenly Thanos woke completely, now truly furious. As he head-butted Mantis and grabbed the gauntlet before it could fully leave his hand, the Soul Stone flew off of it and into Y/N’s palm. Her hand firmly enclosed around it before anyone could notice. She had never held a Stone like this before, she could feel every ounce of energy it was pouring into her.

As the fight ensued, Tony grabbed Y/N and flew her behind a large wall. His helmet disappeared as he searched her. He cupped her cheeks.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“I’m fine,” she responded with a nod. “And look…” she opened her hand and the Soul Stone hovered over her palm.

“That’s my girl. Now, you need to go.”

“What?”

“You need to create a portal and go find Steve and the others.”

“No. I can’t leave you,” she responded, a lump forming in her throat as she shook her head. “Plus, Earth’s too far.”

“Yes, you can.” He tried to give her an encouraging smile. “Thanos has the Space Stone still, channel it.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Tony pulled Y/N in for a tender kiss. “I love you. So much.”

“Tony—“

“I know I hurt you and that we’ve both been stupid. And I know that you haven’t made your decision yet. But I love you. Forever and always. If we survive this, I promise to spend every day showing you just how much I love you.” He pulled her in for one last kiss. “Now, go.” He stood up, walking backwards, heading back into the fight. “Go!”

Tears falling to her cheeks, Y/N took a shaky breath as she watched Tony fly back into the fight. Cupping the Soul Stone between her hands, she closed her eyes and focused on the Space Stone.

~~~

Shuri and Vision had been left in the lab with only a few guards. Shuri was frantically working to reprogram Vision so that he could live without the Mind Stone. But it wasn’t going fast enough. A giant alien killed one of the guards just outside the lab, alerting Shuri to an issue. She began to hastily disconnect her equipment from Vision. The guards engaged with the alien, only to be sent skidding across the floor. 

After Shuri finished her shutdowns, she grabbed one of her sonic panther paws and fired at the alien. The guards got back up and attacked again as she did so. The alien sent the guards and Shuri through the balcony railing and onto the main lab floor. 

Y/N appeared, cheeks still fresh with tears, in the lab. She quickly took in what was happening and ran to help Shuri off the floor.

“Y/N?” Shuri questioned. “Where have you been?”

“Long story,” Y/N answered. “But I brought something with me.” She revealed the Soul Stone in her palm. “I need Wanda. We can destroy it together.”

Before Shuri could respond, they heard Vision cry out. 

“Here!” Shuri said, placed a comm in Y/N’s hand. “You’ll need this.”

With a small, grateful smile, Y/N put the comms device in her ear and shoved the Stone in her pocket. Running up to the balcony part where Vision was suppose to be, she heard glass breaking. Reaching the floor, Y/N saw that the alien and Vision had crashed out of the window and down the face of the mountain.

“Guys, we got a Vision situation here!” Sam warned over the comms.

“Somebody get to Vision!” Steve ordered.

“I got him!” Bruce responded.

“Not if I get there first,” Y/N replied.

“Y/N?!” A chorus of voices filled her ear.

“Doll, where are you?” Bucky immediately asked. “And where the hell have you been?”

“Not really the time,” she answered. 

“Is Tony with you?” Rhodey asked.

“He’s keeping Thanos occupied. The more important thing though is we now have two Stones instead of just one.”

“You have another Stone?” Steve asked. “Destroy it! Now!”

“I’m gonna need Wanda’s help.”

“On my way,” Wanda replied, but crashes were heard from her end.

“Just try Y/N!” Steve continued. “Do it!”

“I don’t—“

“Y/N,” Bucky calmly called. “You can do this.”

Y/N let out a shaky breath and slowly got onto her knees. With a trembling hand, she retrieved the Soul Stone from her pocket. The Soul Stone floated above her palm, effortlessly. She then moved her hands and the Stone so that it was floating in-between them. Focusing her power onto the Stone, she closed her eyes. Her hands were shaking at the power coursing through him and out onto the Stone. Eventually, her hands calmed and her power stopped. Slowly, Y/N opened her eyes. Only to quickly realize, she wasn’t in Wakanda anymore.

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[strawberrysoup]

Pocketful of Posies || Chapter 5

You’d been hiding for years and years now; from your family, from society, from alphas and packs. Suppressants were dangerous but effective and necessary for an omega who refused to be owned—but no suppressants were strong enough to fool the nose of a super soldier, who together with his pack would stop at nothing to bind you to them forever.

pairings: dark!Avengers x reader

word length: 4.7k

chapters: 5/?

warnings: A/B/O dynamics, power imbalances, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, loss of autonomy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat — this is a dark!fic, read at your own risk. more detailed content warnings are included at the end of the chapter to avoid spoilers, click through the read more, CTRL + F “content warnings”. 

Rationality within Carol’s pack was often treated like a talking stick; only one person could have and use it at a time, and stealing it required either brute force or a clever trick—which was why she and Loki fumbled it back and forth so often. Sam seemed to have snatched it for a moment, until their omega’s sharp tongue made him fumble. She was cutting and brutal, as wild as she’d looked the first time Carol saw her: covered in mud and blood, half soaked from the bath and thrashing violently while Thor and Peter tried to gently get her in the tub.

The blonde figured it was time to regain the upper hand over their omega and came to stand at the top of the stairs, eyes locking on Sam from behind. He was turning the corner from patience to frustration, their little omega’s demeaning comments making the muscle in his jaw clench. It was impressive though; any of the other alpha’s in the house (plus herself and maybe minus Peter) would’ve had her nose in the corner by now, bent over to hold her own ankles and struggling for balance so that her forehead didn’t press against the wall lest she earn herself a spanking for being sulky.

“Alright Sammy, tag out,” Carol made sure that there was an undertone of mirth in her voice, hoping to bring the other alpha out of his anger. “You should probably go check on dinner and—Bruce, test results?”

“Oh, you’re right,” the beta nodded, immediately headed for the stairs. “Her hormone analysis should be ready at the least.”

The moment her eyes landed on the little omega on the bed, Carol felt her heart melt just a bit. Despite the vitriol she’d been spitting just moments before, the precious thing looked like an angel sprawled out in their den. All she wore was one of Thor’s t-shirts, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs and perfuming her scentless skin with his musk—she couldn’t wait until the suppressants were out of their omega’s system, Carol desperately wanted to know what she smelled like.

“Sammy?” The blonde prompted when the male alpha didn’t move, leading him to sigh.

“Yeah babe,” he leaned over and pressed a kiss against the omega’s forehead, ignoring how she shrunk back into the pillows behind her. “I’m out. Take care of her, beautiful.”

Sam stopped to press a kiss against Carol’s cheek on his way down the stairs, gesturing for Tony to follow. The genius rolled his eyes and huffed but followed nonetheless, only after tossing a wink at the scowling omega huddled in what would hopefully soon be a nest. Carol waited until they were both down before returning her attention to the younger woman, stomach filling with butterflies.

Carol had wanted an omega since she presented as an alpha at twelve. 90% of the people she interacted with thought she was such a waste—a female alpha? Objectively, a useless combination. Female alphas were weak and passive, certainly not strong enough to lead a pack or produce strong alpha babies. If only she’d been a delta or a beta, she could’ve at least carried children. She’d always been fully aware that society’s perspective was incredibly flawed; she was as dominant as any male, just as potent and just as strong. Stronger even—more recently by unimaginable levels.

But omegas rarely looked negatively upon female alphas. Omegas preened and clamored for the attention female alphas provided, they saw it as more tender and careful. Carol didn’t know if she exactly agreed with that either, but at least an omega would never look at her and consider her a very pretty waste.

Or so the blonde had thought, right up until making eye contact with the sweet-faced omega her pack had managed to stumble upon. She certainly didn’t look pleased, her glare verging on incendiary.

“You sure are feisty,” she felt her lips quirking at the corners, especially when the omega seemed to puff up like an angry kitten. “What you said to Sam wasn’t very nice. You gonna hiss at me too?”

The answer was a resounding yes, the cute, clicking cub growl she made only reinforcing Carol’s gut instinct that the little omega was perfect. She liked that fire, it wasn’t disrespectful—it demanded respect and the blonde could certainly understand that sort of attitude. Considering her omega’s evident disdain for modern presentation centered care, it could even be considered mild.

“Claws away, baby,” she ordered, tone amused and the smile still curling her lips as she toed her shoes off at the edge of the bed. “Be a good girl for me now.”

Carol pressed the omega flat to the bed before she could fight, plastering herself against the half-naked woman and burying her face in the crook of her neck. Scenting deeply made the blonde’s eyes roll back in her head—the faint scent of panicking omega wafted off her skin, only noticeable at such a distance. Thank God the Hulk picked it up, the alpha’s senses so incredibly strong that even while masked by Bruce’s beta he had picked up the faint whiff of omega; if Bruce hadn’t prompted Steve to scent carefully they might not’ve found her. Carol hadn’t been the only one in the pack desperate for an omega.

Thor had been… devastated to learn of the lack of omegas on Earth. With the destruction of Asgard and the remaining population’s relocation, it had been another gut punch to the alpha prime who’s people had already endured so much. He’d spoken at length about how omega Aesir were different than humans’ and the tone of longing and sadness in the prime had radiated through their entire pack.

The deltas, Bucky, Tony and Loki had all realized years ago how sorely their dynamic suffered without an omega. A delta’s overwhelming physiological drive was to provide support and comfort to pack members, their intuition let them see their packmates in a way the other presentation’s couldn’t replicate. Their pack’s deltas were all incredibly intuitive, beyond the norm, and without an omega to properly direct them they got manipulative. It was rarely antagonistic or cruel and if there had only been one delta in the pack, it would’ve slid by without notice—but deltas perceived the deception where others didn’t and it usually led to dissent amongst the three.

And while Steve had never said a word, Carol knew that as a sickly little beta he’d dreamt of being ‘strong enough to deserve an omega’. Bucky had mentioned it briefly—as had Tony, who’d heard it from his father at least biweekly. Steve loved omegas; he loved that they balanced an incredible strength with equal fragility. The very nature of them spoke to his inner artist, ‘his inner romantic,’ Bucky had teased. Now that he was a big ass alpha prime? He could deserve an omega now, he was strong enough now.

Their omega was practically a miracle, considering how few of them there were—so few adults, especially. Some claimed the overall population of omegas was going up despite the overwhelming evidence of the opposite and besides, the number of omegas born every year didn’t matter when you had packmates approaching their mid-forties. Tony, Bruce, and Clint were getting up there, as everyone liked to tease. Finding a reasonably aged omega that was also unclaimed? They’d never even considered the possibility, it was unfathomable.

Carol had consoled herself with the knowledge that her pack loved her deeply, found no fault in her gender or presentation. She knew it would take time, but soon her omega would realize the same. There was nothing wrong with her, she didn’t need to hide or put on a façade; not in their pack, not under their protection. Whatever the omega had gone through in her life must’ve been traumatizing, the blonde could only assume some sort of abuse, and it would be tough to instill confidence in her. They’d need to build her back up from scratch.

“You know, if you’d let Wanda search your mind, we’d have a much easier time understanding what’s going on,” the blonde murmured into the omega’s neck, nose brushing back and forth over her left scent gland. “Will you tell me why you’re so scared? Are you afraid of alphas or of packs? Or deltas?”

“I’m afraid of being trapped forever by a bunch of fucking rapists and kidnappers!” She spat furiously in response, struggling futilely under Carol’s careful grasp. “Get your fucking face out of my neck!”

“Packs it is then,” Carol sighed, lifting her head but keeping the woman pinned beneath her.

“You’re so shifty ‘mega, calm down. There are some horrible people out there, we know that better than anyone, and I’m sorry that you were hurt. I’m sorry you had to go through whatever it was.”

The omega froze, muscles pulling so tightly that she started to shiver. Her lips pursed, jaw clenching and her eyes got dim, lashes fluttering as she looked into the distance over Carol’s shoulder. It was a dead-eyed stare, one the blonde had seen before. Her baby was half trapped in a memory, tightly clenched hands clawing at Carol’s shirt and trying to force her body away.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry, come back—” Carol cooed into the omega’s ear, holding her tighter as she struggled. “You’re with me baby, you’re safe. Breathe with me, come back to me.”

“Would you fucking get off!” The omega choked, sounding both parts desolate and frustrated. “Why don’t you people fucking listen? Am I speaking gibberish?”

“I’m sorry you’re so angry omega,” the blonde’s eyebrows furrowed, sadness permeating her expression as she lowered her head to rest her forehead against the omega’s. “I’m sorry, I can’t get off—you need the pheromones, the alpha contact chemicals. Even if you’re traumatized, once the suppressants you’re on start to wear off you’re going to have to submit. We need to start practicing now so you can get comfortable with it, before it’s critical for your health.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry, you’re not sorry! If you were, you would’ve let me go. You wouldn’t be holding me here! I don’t need or want your help, I don’t want to be in a pack!”

“I hear you, baby, I promise I understand what you’re saying,” Carol carefully pinned one of the flailing omega’s arms down with her knee, reaching up to stroke the woman’s face. “You don’t want to be here, you don’t want to have a pack, I’m sure you don’t want to be bonded to us. But you’re on so many suppressants baby, there are so many mind-altering chemicals in the shit you were taking—”

“If you force me to stop taking them I’ll only be under the ‘mind-altering’ chemicals produced by the other presentations and—and this stupid collar forcing my body to produce addictive chemicals at a rapid rate,” she argued, “you want to argue that I’m out of my mind like I can’t be trusted with my own safety! I’m fully conscious, I’m not stupid, I’m an adult for fuck’s sake. The only thing that’s going to fuck up my personal agency is you!”

“We’ll know for sure when Bruce gets your test results back,” Carol sighed realizing how unlikely it would be for her to get through to the omega. “Tony’s having some equipment dropped by in the morning so he and Bruce can run some more. If your hormone levels aren’t entirely trashed, we’ll revisit this conversation.”

“You have to let me take my suppressants tonight then,” the omega pushed against the blonde again, grunting with effort and irritation when she didn’t move at all. “Otherwise the test results from today won’t match the ones tomorrow, missing a dose will entirely trash my hormone levels! The tests won’t provide an accurate reading!”

Carol was shaking her head before she’d even finished the explanation. “No way, there’s a reason those are illegal, baby. They’re so dangerous—”

“I’ve been taking them for fifteen years and I’m completely fine, come on—”

She watched the omega’s face fall when she sighed, “it’s not gonna happen baby. This one isn’t up for debate.”

“This one?” The omega scoffed bitterly, lips twisting as angry tears collected in her eyes. “Nothing is ‘up for debate’. I’m here, aren’t I? Obviously against my will. I’m not even wearing my own clothes, you won’t let me move! You’re acting like this is the one bit of agency you’re planning to strip from me but you’re either too stupid to realize that or you’re too caught up in the idea of having a house bitch to care!”

“Hey, don’t say that,” Carol frowned, thumb smoothing over the crease between her brows. “We’re not looking to ruin your life, baby. The last thing we want is to make you meek or take away your ability to make your own choices, but we have to take care of you.”

“Y-you don’t though,” she hissed, breath hitching as she fought not to cry in front of the alpha. “I’ve been taking care of-of myself for years. I’ve never had a problem I’ve—I’ve never been attacked or assaulted or—”

Carol shifted until the omega was cradled in her lap, easily blocking the omega’s attempts to escape her grasp, “If that’s true baby girl, I don’t think you understand how rare it is—or how it would mean you were poisoning yourself so thoroughly that no alpha could scent you. There’s too many people out there would hurt you just for being you; the only way for you to be safe is with us, where you don’t have to keep taking the pill equivalent of drinking gasoline and bleach.”

“I should have the choice!”

“The choice to slowly kill yourself?” The blonde looked down into the omega’s face in disbelief. “No one in their right mind would allow another person to suffer like that.”

Their attention was suddenly and brutally drawn to the stairwell, both of their hindbrains reacting to the scent of overwhelmingly aroused alphas accompanied by raised voices and shouting. The omega in her lap went completely and utterly still, instincts locking down all movement as if it could prevent her from being seen. Carol sighed quietly through her nose, nudging her forehead gently against the charming little creature hiding against her chest. She couldn’t really tell what they were yelling about but she figured it had something to do with whatever Bruce found.

“Someone has to—!”

“That doesn’t mean—!”

“It should be—!”

The blonde cracked her neck, arms slipping around the waist of her omega and locking in place like iron bands. The cowering made it easier for Carol to snuggle her tightly against her chest, wiggling them carefully as several pairs of feet began stomping up the stairs, until the omega was entirely engulfed by the alpha from behind. Steve and Thor made it up first, shoulder to shoulder and passive-aggressively nudging each other in the ribs. Sam was next, along with Bucky—both of whom were being decidedly antagonistic to poor Peter who followed behind.

“Would you guys shut the hell up? What’s going on?”

Before anyone else could respond Bruce forced his way between the group of more dominant males, eyes flashing green even as he attempted to shake it off, “the amount of alpha pheromone in her blood is so low it’s amazing she isn’t in shock.”

“What?!” The omega snapped furiously, eyes darting between the people standing around the room nervously. “There’s nothing wrong with me—!”

“Carol, hold her,” Steve ordered, as if the blonde hadn’t locked the omega down the second they heard them coming. “Thor, how are we gonna do this?”

Both primes looked almost pained, their faces painted with grimaces as they exchanged glances. Their struggle was easy to identify; neither wanted to cause any strife between them, damage to their partnership would damage the pack but they wanted to be first. Their hindbrains could barely function beyond the desire to fuck their omega, their pretty, sweet little omega who desperately needed alpha semen because her body would stop functioning without it. Primes always got first take on omegas, but when there were two primes in a pack things got dicey.

“Have one of us do it,” Carol chimed, carefully maintaining an expression that relayed she wasn’t trying to step on toes. “Both of you are massive, you could do damage without proper prep and if it’s that serious we can’t wait on that.”

“I’ll do it!” Peter was quick to step forward. “You all know I’ll the gentlest and she’s already upset—”

“Shut it Spiderboy,” Sam quickly interjected, giving the younger alpha a stern look, “she needs careful handling, not some teenager fumbling with his knot.”

“I’m not a teenager anymore you asshole—!”

“Carol’s cock is the smallest,” Tony stated nonchalantly as he kicked off his shoes in the closet that faced the den, “no offense babe, just logistics.”  

“None taken,” the blonde snorted slightly in amusement before turning her attention to the two primes, “I can get her started, at least get her hormones on the right track.”

“Let go of me you psycho!” The omega howled, voice constricted by her collar. “Get away from me, let me go!”

A low, bone-deep rumble suddenly washed over everyone in the attic, the growl emanating from both Steve and Thor. A keening moan escaped the omega, her breath hitching and eyes rolling as viscous slick gushed from her pussy. The scent of it made waves through the rest of the pack, a cacophony of moans and growls echoing off the high ceiling as the responding scent of hot and bothered emanated through the den.

“Thor?” Steve questioned the other prime imploringly, knowing that they needed an immediate answer and follow through.

The taller man grit his teeth, nose flaring for several moments before he let out another low growl that made their omega cry with arousal. “You first—leave my shirt on her, please.”

“Oh God, oh God,” the whimpering omega shifted in Carol’s arms, likely about to try to make a break for it when Steve swept her up into his arms. “Please, wait—!”

“Your pussy is dripping for your primes, isn’t it precious?” The alpha male hummed quietly as he swiftly lowered them both to the bed, hands grasping the backs of her thighs and pressing her knees towards her shoulders. “So much slick for such a little thing.”

The whine that came from Peter sounded wrecked, only minutely more embarrassing than the groans and panting coming from the rest of the pack as they watched. The omega looked to be approaching frantic and Carol sighed, shifting farther away from the prime on the bed—there was no reason to test Steve’s incredible patience. Well, that had been Carol’s opinion anyway.

Evidently Loki believed otherwise, but then again the delta was habitually prone to testing Steve’s last goddamn nerve. The brunet had appeared with a shimmering green light, lying on the bed so close to the omega that the scent from his ridiculously expensive Fendi sweater was transferring to her arm and shoulder. The prime had barely flinched, certainly hadn’t reacted in a manner more noticeable than a slight dilation in his pupil. Thor made a reprimanding noise but didn’t move forward to remove the delta, much to Bucky and Tony’s immediate disdain.

“Why the fuck does he get to—!”

“You better rethink that, Ice Man!”

The combined snarls from both primes quickly brought all three deltas to heel and while Loki didn’t retreat, he did keep his hands to himself. One hand propped up his head, the other tightly fisted and rested on the bed between himself and the omega’s borrowed shirt while eyes burned into him from all sides. The omega’s wide eyes were locked on the man, some flicker of recognition fleetingly passing over her face. Loki was good at surprise entrances and even better at taking advantage of his brother’s status in the pack—not that he necessarily got away with things the others wouldn’t, but none of the others particularly wanted to find out what the prime’s breaking point was either.

“I just want to keep her calm, is that so horrible?” The tone the God used was smooth and Carol remembered the talking stick analogy again. “You can smell the poor thing’s terror, is it really necessary?”

Steve looked conflicted for maybe two seconds when a light went off behind his eyes. “Keep her calm so I don’t have to purr and you can stay.”

The delta’s hand immediately slipped up the front of her shirt, cupping the curve of her rib cage just under her breast. His nose pressed into her neck in the following moments, a small golden glow flowing over the little omega’s skin where he touched her. The odor of fear was quick to recede once the windows were open, replaced with the tangy-sweet scent of her pussy. Carol inhaled sharply and whined, drawing Steve’s attention to her wide, sad eyes.

The prime huffed, running one big hand through his hair while Loki held the omega’s thigh in place. “Hands to yourself, Carol.”

The blonde immediately tucked her nose into the other side of the omega’s neck, hands clenched into fists and tucked tightly against her stomach. She could hear the rest of the pack shuffling around, vying for space and views on the bed. Steve seemed entirely unbothered, his gaze once again locked on the pretty omega’s.

“Is your cunt working your slick hard enough precious?” He murmured directly into her ear, lips brushing the skin gently. “If those muscles aren’t strong enough we might have to put in a bit more effort to stretch you out. Squeeze around my fingers baby.”

Carol’s eyes rolled back when a breathy whine escaped the omega, the only perceivable reaction that might’ve betrayed her fear—otherwise, whatever magic Loki had used made her eyes shine with bliss. Steve had two fingers knuckle deep in her cunt, still pressing forward while his slick coated thumb swept up through her folds to pass over her clit. She shook under the grasp of his packmates, hips shifting without her consent to follow the movement of his hand.

“Come on sweetheart, please?” Steve implored quietly, looking at the loosely pinned omega with soft eyes. “Clench your pussy for me, let me take care of you. Please, I—oh, there you go, that’s a good girl.”

He hummed, working his fingers deeper into her cunt and scissoring them carefully. A smile lit the prime’s face when the cutest hiccupping moan escaped the omega, her legs pressing futilely against his hold. Muscle memory tried to guide her legs closed but Carol easily slipped a hand around her knee, keeping her spread wide while Steve continued to stretch her pussy. Another bass toned growl from Thor reverberated off the walls and she wailed, slick dripping over Steve’s fingers while her pussy contracted in waves as commanded by the prime’s guttural growl.

“I’m gonna take care of you precious,” her low whine prompted a moan from Steve as he added a third finger, carefully pressing the pads of his fingers up against her g-spot. “You’ll feel so much better once we fuck you, I promise.”

Carol watched with heavily lidded eyes as the omega’s attention was sparked by Steve’s use of the collective we. Likely it was only Loki’s magic that kept her from lashing out as viciously as they knew she was capable of. In spite of it, her little teeth showed, sharp incisors flashing in a botched hiss. The prime poised himself over her carefully with a small grin, fingers still fucking into her with vigor while he rested his weight on his elbow next to her head.

“It’s gonna be okay omega, it’s gonna be okay,” he cooed quietly against her ear, removing his hand only to pull his cock from his pants. “Take deep breaths, baby.”

“Don’t—” She didn’t sound distressed, the omega sounded aroused and desperate, “I—”

“Shhhh,” the prime’s lips skimmed over her cheeks, down her nose while his hand guided his dick up and down her slick folds until he was dripping with her arousal. “I’m gonna take care of you, precious. We’re gonna take care of you.”

The sound that escaped the omega’s lips as he slipped into her was goosebump inducing in the best way. She whined as the head popped in, breath hitching with every millimetre that came thereafter—and there were a lot of them. The omega was squirming, her heels scrambling against the blankets and both Loki and Carol found themselves having to focus much harder than expected on keeping her still while Steve bottomed out.

“You’re doing so well, darling,” Loki cooed, his nose brushing the line of her jaw. “I know it’s a lot but you’re taking it beautifully. Stay still love, just relax we’ll hold you.”

“That’s right ‘mega,” Steve groaned as he withdrew, the squelch of her cunt making his teeth clench. “We’ll do all the work precious, you just have to be a good girl and take my cock.”

It was easier said than done and everyone in the room save Thor was fully aware of that. The omega’s sweet little whines and cries were causing a massive feedback loop of arousal in the pack’s consciousness and Carol was pretty sure she could hear the sounds of several people going at it but she couldn’t pull her gaze away from where Steve’s cock was drilling into that pretty cunt. Evidently said feedback loop was also affecting Steve, who very suddenly growled possessively.

“Carol, Loki, off,” The prime snapped barely hesitating before dropping his elbows into the pillows on either side of the omega’s head, narrowly avoiding giving his pack mates concussions. “Now.”

Both the alpha and the delta were yanked off the bed by their ankles—well, Carol was yanked off the bed. Loki was yanked off the bed and then promptly thrown into the wall by said ankles. The reinforced exterior wall meant there was only a small dent where the god had landed, but the ensuing ruckus had a strong potential of causing even more damage. Thor immediately turned to deal with the problem, along with several other packmates.

Several things occurred in the next few seconds and the pack would probably fight about what really happened for the next twenty years, but somehow Bucky was thrown through the window and Tony’s right ring finger was broken.

And Wanda—poor Wanda, Thor pushed her out of the way before Bucky could accidentally take her through the window with him. The beta was sent flying, sailing across the bed until she hit the unyielding form of Steve. He startled in shock, immediately drawing back to assess her condition—only for a heel to slam directly into his nose. The prime’s head snapped back from the force, big body falling backwards while his hands scrambled for purchase on his face.

The omega probably would’ve even gotten down the stairs if Natasha hadn’t been ascending the stairs at that moment, having heard the commotion from where she and Clint had been putting away groceries. The redhead smelled her before seeing her, a somewhat sinister grin pulling Nat’s lips when the omega ran directly into her while attempting escape #2.

“Now where are you going, kitten? With that mess dripping down your thighs,” the beta cooed, head tilting as she scented the air. “Why can I smell Steve on you, but not his cum?”

There was a horrible, long pause while the omega seemed to consider her options before landing on Go For Broke. She attempted to dodge past Natasha but the beta’s strong arm immediately lashed around her waist, her superior strength making it easy to force her up the stairs even as she refused to hold her own weight.

Steve met them just two steps from the top, dick out and covered in blood. The prime’s expression wasn’t so much angry as it was disappointed and Natasha hummed in false sympathy.

“Someone’s been naughty, huh kitten?”

content warnings: nonconsensual sex, voyeurism 

[marvelwritings]

Can't tell me there's no point in trying

Summary:  Peter travels back in time, get's a concussion and Tony takes care of him, even though in his mind, Peter has been blipped for three years.

In hindsight, the exact memory of when they started researching how to travel back to the past is lost on him. It’s just that he had been so devastated, after Tony’s death, that his emotions had reached through to the only person that somewhat knew what he was going through. Peter didn’t want to compare Wanda’s situation with his, after all, Wanda was the one that was forced to choose between the love of her life and saving the universe, but the weight of their grief was the same none the less.

Wanda had approached him while he was out on patrol, and though there was not set plan, Peter was willing to try anything to get Tony back. They started of their plan by seeking help from Doctor Strange, and when that hadn’t worked,  Peter had snuck in and stole -borrowed as he preferred to call it- a few books that might have been helpful for their goal. Between going to school, patrolling, putting up a front for his friends and aunt -and as of late Happy-, and searching endlessly for a scrape of hope, Peter had worked himself to the bone. It would all be worth it though, if their plan came to fruition.

It hadn’t worked the first time, nor the second time, and neither did the third. Failed enough times that Peter’s heart sunk into his stomach, and that he carefully tried to convince Wanda to try something else. The spell was eerily straightforward with very little need for ingredients, nothing more then saying two sentences and having a personal item of the person they strived to reach, and if they hadn’t managed to work it out in three attempts, Peter assumed, though the idea rendered him dejected, it would never work.

Until he went out on patrol again that night. One moment he was excitedly talking to Karen, animatedly retelling the story of how he managed to stop a bank robbery, as it the AI hadn’t witnessed it, and the next he tried to shoot out a spiderweb to building so he could swing over, only for the web to hit nothing but air.

‘Ow, wow’, Peter floundered, trying his best to reach something and prevent himself from slamming on the ground -again-, but he failed. He banged into a tree at full speed, colliding head first and tumbling down while hitting every branch possible. That was the first sign that should have tipped Peter off. There were no trees in the middle of Queens. Under normal circumstances, he would have considered that, but the heavy impact is not working well in his favor.

Landing on the ground on his stomach with a hard thud, his body, and specifically his ribs, screamed in agony, and he rips the mask off without considering his predicament. Anyone could walk by and see the face beneath the mask. Still, Peter can’t breath with the way his ribs object, but at least without the mask it’s fresh air he inhales.  

He turns around and struggles to get on his back. His hand instinctively slide over his stomach, protecting the hurting area. Come to think of it, every area on his body hurts. Peter knows the logistics of cracked ribs, and savvies that even with the aid of super healing, it’s not going to repair in a few minutes times.

He inhales as a small as he possibly can, despite knowing he shouldn’t, and braces himself for running back to May’s and his appartement. He can’t stay here, where anyone could walk up to him and attack him while he’s down. He laughs incredible, at least aunt May, and Tony of he was still here, would be proud of him for calling it a day.

When he blinks his eyes open though, he’s met with nothing but grass and green for miles, and a blurry vision that tells him he has a concussion. While trying to sit up, his visions spins like  he’s a part of a rollercoaster, and his stomach turns uncomfortably.

‘Oh no,’ Peter moans, ‘aunt May is gonna kill me.’ It’s the only thing he can say before he has to swallow back bile and decides it’s best to be quiet from now on. He struggles to his feet, stumbling a few times before successfully finding his footing in the grass.

His vision does not clear, but he forces himself to take a few steps in any direction anyway. Wondering if seeing all these trees are because of his concussion, Peter freezes when he hears tiny footsteps approaching the opening his still currently residing in. It’s accompanied by children’s crying, the hairs on his arm standing up at the sound. Perhaps it’s a trap, but Peter has never done well ignoring a child ever since meeting his baby sister.

‘Hello?’ he calls out tentatively, squeezing his eyes shut firmly to clear it, but it doesn’t help.

‘Hi’, an adorable voice answers back to him, a head peeks out from behind a bunch, as if the child is equally as curious about Peter as Peter is about her. He can only notice she does this because blurring colors that inch closer little by little. The girl sniffles, ‘I hurt my foot.’

Peter is out of his depth here. He’s only ever impressed children by swinging them around in the sky, but his body will not allow that right now. Instead he tries to focus on what he would do if Morgan was the one that was hurt. Adopting a tone only Morgan has ever heard from him, Peter crouches down on his knees. His ribs creak in dismay, but he ignores it firmly. Someone needs him right now.

‘Oh that’s not good. Does it hurt a lot?’ Peter himself cannot assess the damage.

‘No I guess not’, the girls splutters, pulling up her foot to show Peter.

‘Okay, that’s great. Do you live for away from here? I bet that if I take you back home, your parents will give you a lollipop because you were so brave.’

‘Oh’, the child cries out in wonder, pain in her foot forgotten completely at the mentions of dessert. Peter can’t help but smirk a little, bribery works on Morgan every time too. ‘I’ll show you, but you have to carry me okay?’

Peter can’t think of a worse activity for his injured body to sustain right now, but he’s not about to let a kid down.

‘It’s a deal, lead the way and hop on up.’ His tone is cheerful, even though he has to bite back pained groans by biting his lip.

The girl shows no hesitation and follows his lead immediately, giggling in delight.

‘So, do you want to play a game on the way over?’

They end up playing I spy with my little eye, which Peter loses every time, and not only because he can’t see straight at the moment. The girl, being clearly very young, is a spitfire, which is good because it means Peter doesn’t have to talk during the trip.

It gets increasingly harder to carry her the longer he has to endure the pain, but he knows that salvation is near when the girl, points to a brown blob in the distance. ‘That’s it, there it is. Put me down, I want to get my lollie now.’

Peter obligates, and watches as she runs without any regard for her painful foot, smiling to himself. He hears the door of the house open, and a male cadence calling out and sounding so joyful he must not have noticed Peter yet. He can only imagine the weird sight that must be, to see a stranger bringing home your daughter, but Peter can’t move away yet. His body has stopped listening to his commands.

‘Daddy, daddy, can I have a lollipop, Peter said I could if I was brave, and I was! He said so himself.’

Peter assumes she points to him, and his smiles weakly, although he’s having trouble even finding the strength to do that. Once he walks a little further, he should rest for a bit, close his eyes for the briefest amount of time. Before it get’s to that point though, Peter hears a glass mug being dropped on the ground. The sounds is piercing in contrast between the quiet forest and the intrusion, but that’s not the weirdest thing.

‘Peter?’ That same cadence exclaims, the voice breaking of the syllable. It’s strange, because for the briefest moment Peter’s mind flashing the name Tony at him, but the man is long gone.

Peter just about handles frowning at the direction, a weird knowingness to the exclamation, like the man somehow knows who Peter is.

‘How do you-?’ The sentence is cut short when a wave of nausea slams into Peter again, and he can’t keep himself upright this time. His knees buckle, his eyes roll into the back of his head, and the ground nearly welcomes him with open arm. Before he can collide with it again however, in such speed Peter can’t phantom the man being fast enough, he instead lands between the mans arms. All the strength has left his body, and Peter can do nothing but let his head roll onto the man’s shoulder.

‘Pepper’, he screams, so shut up it comes across as hoars, pulling Peter even closer to him than thought possible. ‘You’re okay kid, you’re okay. I promise you’ll be okay.’

---

Peter comes too slowly, groggily, as if moving through solaces. The logical part of his brain, of which there is much, screams at him to panic. He doesn’t know where he is, he can only vaguely remember the events leading up to his current situation, and he can’t ensure his safety or anyone else’s furthermore, but the smaller part of his brain soothes him.

Tells him everything is fine and he’s safe. It’s rare that Peter feels that way. Even at home with May in their appartement, there’s a constant need to be alert. Peter snaps awake from every little sound, his body turning rigid from the forceful transition between sleeping and waking up, even if the cause was only a door creaking.

It doesn’t make any sense for Peter to be this tranquillized right now, or any other time for that matter. He groans, pained, fluttering his eyes open to find himself in a dark room with the windows drawn. His eyesight is still blurry, his head is still pounding beneath his skin, and because there’s no acute danger to be detected- his spider senses tell him so, though he hasn’t learned to trust them completely yet- he allows his eyelids to droop closed again.

A warm, calloused hand strikes through his hair softly, while a thumb strikes out the frowning lines that pain flashes put on Peter’s forehead. Peter realizes with a startle that his not alone, and that must mean his Peter tingle has failed him, but can’t force himself to push the hand away. It’s nice to experience a loving touch after so many rough handlings, and the memories of lab days with Tony, car rides with Happy, building Lego with Ned and cuddling with MJ render him immobile. He longs so fiercely to feel safe, to be safe, that he leans into the touch like a cat being petted.

‘It’s okay Pete, just go back to sleep.’ A rough voice rumbles from besides Peter. All the rest he previously had, flies out of the window, as his entire body fill up with adrenaline. That voice belongs to a man that’s long gone, a man that sacrificed himself to save Peter and paid the ultimate price for it. That voice can only originate from a ghost.

Peter practically jumps up, opening his eyes and looking in the direction where the voice came from, but he miscalculated how fast his concussion would go away. He stumbles, faceplanting into the body that held Tony’s voice, and was only held up by the grace of the other man. Again, there were bouts of pain, but not only from his physical ailments.

The fire that Peter imagines to be inside of him, the one that destroys everyone else around him but leaves him, unfortunately intact, burns up from the remnants of his heart. He’s tried very hard to move on from Tony’s death in the past few months, and he had almost convinced himself that he was over it. That would be a flat out lie though, and Peter Parker doesn’t lie. The agony of the situation had just been shoved to the back of his mind, while Peter took on so much so he wouldn’t have to touch upon it, to prod in it. It peeked out every once in a while, when Happy would tell May about his life and an anecdote with Tony would be told, or when a poster with Iron man on it drew his attention, but it’s easier to pretend to be okay then to deal with the truth.

‘Hey Peter, I’m glad to see you too, but don’t get too excited now bud.’ Tony laughs, but the tone with which he says it sounds grief stricken, with the barest hint of hope coating the edges. He lowers Peter back down into the bed, and Peter has to bite back a sob at how comfortable the sheet caresses his skin, and how gentle it is on his wounds.

He shakes his head vehemently, trying to clear it and be able to think logically. He wants so badly that Tony is actually here, but there isn’t any way for that to be true, unless.. Peter gasps, memories piercing through the fog in his head. Unless Wanda managed to do what they set out to do. And that would mean that It’s no weird fever dream. Peter’s hand clench up in Tony’s shirt, pulling him down so Peter can meet him in the middle and hug him. He still can’t see the expression on Tony’s face, but he prepares to be rejected, and can’t find it in himself to care. Even if Tony pushes him away after barely a brief second, at least Peter still did something he had set out to do for months now.

That doesn’t happen. Instead, Tony grabs him even tighter, a gentle hand cupping the back of Peter’s head as he curves his body around him.

‘Tony’, Peter whispers, the first tears starting to track a path on his cheeks. ‘Tony.’ Sobs are building up in the back of his throat, unable to be contained for much longer, and as they escape, Tony doesn’t scold him, or tells Peter to stop, but he starts to rock the both of them.

Peter can’t be sure, but he thinks he feels splatters of Tony’s tears on his shoulders as well.

‘Morgan’, Peter says nonsensical after a while, sobs are still heaving his body, but he’s had experience pulling himself together in need before, and right now he needs to know Morgan is safe.

‘Is she okay?’ he asks Tony, with a clumsy tongue. The crying has made his weak and aching body even more exhausted, the rocks reminding him of babies being cradled and normally he wouldn’t want to be seen as a baby, but he doesn’t care right now. He just want to enjoy being around Tony again.

‘Morgan?’ Tony laughs, sniffling quietly like he’s refusing to let Peter knows his been crying too. ‘She fine, she’s probably playing in the barn again even though Pepper tells her she’s not allowed. She’s a bit of a menace, just like you Pete.’

At that, Peter sobs turn into heaves, his entire body shaking with the force of them. All the grief of the past few months, the guilt that Peter has carried knowing it’s all his fault, is all coming to a head now. It’s his fault that Tony’s dead, it’s his fault Morgan has to grow up without a father, and it’s his fault the world doesn’t have Iron man to protect them anymore. He’s tried to so hard to make it right, but how can he? How can he ever be the person Tony was, when he’s just Peter Parker.

‘Kiddo, please calm down, you’re gonna make yourself sick’, Tony soothes despairingly. He lowers peter again but stays close, his hand going back to striking Peter’s hair. ‘You’re okay, I promise you, I won’t let anything else happen to you.’ Tony is getting chocked up again, but this time he doesn’t try to hide it. ‘Not again.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry’, Peter whispers, his voice wrecked by the amount of crying he has done. He wants to talk to Tony, explain what happened, spend time with him and beg for his forgiveness, but Tony shushes him, and he’s asleep before he can argue.

----

The next time Peter struggles to consciousness, he senses their presence; Morgan, Pepper and Tony, and he knows without a sliver of doubt that its them. He shakes with the knowledge. The room he’s in, his room as Pepper had told him upon visiting for the first time, is scattered with spiderman toys, and even a few posters on to wall to complete the image. The sight is ridiculous, but Peter laughs at it all the same. He tries to keep the smile on his face, but melancholy isn’t easily beat.

At the very least his concussion seems to have gone away since waking up a first time, and all that’s left to remind him he took a fall is a vague pounding in his head, and the nausea. It’s not as bad as before, and Peter takes the reprieve with greedy hands.

The hustling and bustling of the family, alive and well, downstairs is crustal clear to Peter’s advanced hearing. It’s strange, being back in the lake house without it seeming so bleak. After they defeated Thanos, and Mister Stark died, Peter’s mind helpfully supplies, he had only been here twice. Pepper tried her best to come back, to give Morgan a home away from the home they owned in the city, but too much had reminded of the husband she was forced to burry, so they moved fairly quickly.

So it unusually to see it the way it was supposed to be. Lived in, with Morgan’s giggling and Pepper’s pretend scolding voice, with mister Stark chuckling quietly to himself, a perfect little family. It’s supposed to emit a warm, honey affection bleeding through every crack, and it’s a shame it isn’t anymore.  

‘Morguna, go play with your toys for a second, I need to talk to your mom about something very important.’ Spying on Tony leaves a bad taste in Peter’s mouth, but he can’t help it. He’s been so devoid of any scraps connecting him to Mister Stark, that he’s willing to forgo manners.

‘Is it a surprise?’ Morgan asks, mirth in her voice. She’s so much younger than Peter ever remembers her being, because he’d never got to witness her at that age. His heart clenches, the hurt still so fresh.

‘You know what little miss, as a matter of fact it is, so you better scoot, or we might not be able to get in time.’

Morgan squeals in delight, and Peter hears her little footsteps sprinting outside. Peter smiles, he knew Tony would be a good dad someday. The downstairs is quiet for longer than normal, and Peter suddenly turns worried that Pepper and Tony caught him.

Then, Pepper speaks up again. ‘You can’t keep spoiling her you know. She’ll turn into a monester by the time she hits fourteen.’

‘She’s fine,’ Tony placates. Peter visualizes Tony pressing a kiss to the top of Pepper’s head, the only weakness the woman has, which he takes great advantages of. The issue seems to be settled, the playful disagreement put to rest.

Peter ponders over what to do next. He’s so extremely awkward, and despite hoping for an opportunity like this one, he has no idea what to say to Tony.

‘Oh Tony, is it really him?’ Peter freezes, so caught of guard by the heartache in Pepper’s words. She sounds both optimistic and demoralized, as though she has had her hopes up for so long she can’t risk it again.

‘It is Pep. I know it is, I saw it in his eyes.’

‘But how?’ Pepper questions extensively. ‘He was blipped, just like so many people. None of the others have come back.’

‘I don’t have all the answers Pepper, God knows I wish I had. All I know is that my kids back, do I need to question why?’

Hearing, outright hearing mister Stark say Peter is his kid, has Peter tearing up, something sharp sticking at his ribs and feeble heart. It hurts just as much as he longs to overhear it again.

‘He might be able to bring the others back. Tony, I get why you don’t want to hear this, but he could be the key to helping millions.’

‘He has to be nothing but healthy alright? Maybe he can help, maybe he can’t, but all I’m sure of is that I’m never,’ Tony’s voice sinks lower and even more venomous then before,’ putting him in the line of fire again.’

I’m okay, Peter thinks, needing to scream it to Mister Stark’s face that he didn’t do anything. It wasn’t up to anyone, just like it wasn’t up to anyone to save Tony either.

‘I’m sorry’, Tony utters, sounding defeated and, honestly, old. ‘I’m sorry, but I just got him back, and I can’t, I can’t lose him again.’

‘It seems like the first step in ensuring it never does it to go up and talk to him. Go to him Tony, say what you couldn’t say three years ago. And’, Pepper swallows thickly. ‘Tell him we all love him.’

Peter’s grateful he won’t be forced to initiate the first move by walking downstairs.

‘Underroos, I’m coming up so you better not be sleeping anymore.’ The flawless transition between vulnerable and slipping into his role a cool role model is staggering, but it doesn’t surprise Peter in the slightest anymore. He’s spend too much time with Tony for that to be the case.

He doesn’t know what to do with his body, how he’s supposed to respond to seeing Tony in person again? Part of him wants to lung at his mentor, while the other part hisses at him to act like a normal human being. Peter ends up sitting down on the bed, standing in front of  the door, hiding behind the closet and finally back to bed in the span of however long it takes Tony to reach the room.

By that point, Peter is too distracted by the glimmer of his past to overthink the encounter. He remembers the lego set as if it just happened. It was the first bout of Peter’s interests that Tony listened to wholeheartedly. After the battle with Thanos, it had slipped Peter’s mind completely. He had no idea Mister Stark had this thing in his home.

‘I asked May if I could take it with me, when I moved out here’, Tony says with melancholy, taking a seat by Peter on the bed, but leaving a considerable distance. He’s not looking at the lego set at all, instead dividing his full attention on Peter. Swiftly his eyes roam Peters face and posture, sucking in all the little details Tony hadn’t been able to discern about him after a while.

‘There’s so many of that stuff in her apartment, but this one was the most fun to put together, because it’s the death star you know? It has all this detail and it took forever to make but that’s all good, cause there’s so much detail and-’

‘Pete’, Tony sounds chocked up, like the façade he was forcing himself to wear is already slipping. Peter hasn’t even said anything yet. ‘God kid, where the hell di you come from? I’ve tried everything but I-‘, he takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. Peter has only witnessed mister Stark crying once, so it’s a shock that it occurs again. ‘I didn’t know how.’

‘Mister Stark-’, Peter stops, cutting his own sentence off. Is he even supposed to say anything? Is he supposed to blab the secrets of the future. His Spidey scenes are distinctively ordering him not too, but Peter itches to all the same. ‘I don’t think I’m supposed to say,’ he settles on, ‘with the butterfly effect and all.’

‘The butterfly effect? Kid what in the world are you talking about?’

‘You know, like in the movie, where he can travel back in the past but it always alters things for the worst?’

‘Yeah, I’ve seen the movie’, Tony asserts, almost deadpans. ‘What does that have to do with anything?’

‘Just- just please trust me Mister Stark’, Peter pleads, hands beginning to tremble with the need to reach out for reassurance. The memories of the one complete hug Tony had ever given him sparking a longing in him.  ‘Do you trust me?’

‘Of course’, Mister Stark firmly agrees.

‘Then don’t ask me how,’ even to his own ears the desperation is tangible, ‘please.’

Tony clasps his hand on Peters shoulder, a ground weight to which Peters never endings zing in relief. Before he can stop himself, he’s crumpled in, his head on Tony’s shoulder while his hands twist in the back of mister Stark’s shirt. The reciprocation is immediate.

‘I’ve missed you’, He chokes out, feeling rather annoyed at himself that all he seems to be doing is crying. His time here is limited, he can sense it, the hunch that time is of the essence and he doesn’t posses much of it, and he refuses to waste it on more tears.

‘Me too, Pete, more than you know.’

‘I think I have a pretty good clue’, Peter laughs bitterly, it’s not the same really. He’s only been missing mister Stark for a few months, the man in front of him has been missing him for three and will need to miss him for two more years. The buzzing in the back of his head grows louder. Another stroke of Parker luck, he spend most of the time he had with mister Stark unconscious.

Whatever, he can’t change it now, but he has a few more things to say before he needs to leave.

‘Tony’, he begins, using Mister Starks first name to ensure he understands how important this is. He pulls away, just enough to be able to look Tony directly in the eyes, but what he sees there is nothing short of panic. His hand tighten, softly guiding him back but Peter resists.

‘Please don’t tell me you have to go again.’ It seems that despite Peter intent, Tony savvies more than he’d like. Peter smiles bitter.

‘It’s not your fault.’

‘What?’

‘What happened on Titan, when he blipped all of us, me, that’s not on you mister Stark.’ Peter repeats patiently, watching as Tony’s face hardens.

‘Peter-‘

‘It’s not. You couldn’t have protected me any more then you did. I’m sorry it turns out the way it did, but I need you to know it’s not on you.’

‘I should have done more.’ Tony insist, raising his voice a few octaves. Downstairs, Morgan asks Pepper why her dad is so close to yelling. ‘I should’ve, you were my kid Peter, are my kid, and I failed.’

‘You didn’t fail’, Peter yells back just as loudly, he stands up from the bed, subconsciously trying to appear taller so he has more say in the situation. ‘Because if you already failed then what did I do? I’m still here and you-‘, he cuts himself off once again, almost spilling all the secrets.

Tony approach him like he’s an animal that needs to be handled with care. ‘I don’t know what you’re on about, but I’m a grown man Pete, I can take care of myself.’

‘But I-‘

‘Ah, ah, ah, not talking back, I’m the adult here. Zip it kid. How about this, we’re both not to blame alright?’

Peter isn’t convinced Tony believes that, but it’s still a weight of his shoulders to have said it to Mister Stark, maybe, in the future, when he pins the blame on himself once more, he’ll think about this moment. He nods.

‘I have to go now Mister Stark’, The words tumble out of his mouth before he realizes that it’s the truth. Whatever is going to happen next won’t wait much longer.

Peter walks over to the window and opens it, ready to swing out after saying goodbye. He can’t go and see Pepper and Morgan, it’ll upset them as much as it’ll upset him. He’ll see them back in his time.

‘Wait,’ Tony screams, as I Peter was going to leave without a goodbye. The embrace he pulls Peter in is heavier this time, loaded with the upcoming goodbye’s. It’s still nice though, and Peter enjoys every second of it. Tony presses a kiss to Peter’s temple then holds it there when he asks; ‘How long do I have to wait before I see you again.’

Peter swallows painfully and considers lying to make Tony feel better but, ‘two years’, he eventually confesses, figuring that he can at least give that little piece of information.

Mister Stark simply hums, but Peter notices his tears nonetheless. With one last, solid squeeze, Peter wiggles out of the embrace and tries to stall his own tears. It would hurts less if he could go back to find Mister Stark there, if only he had a way to warm Tony.

He’s pretty sure he can’t go into too much detail but; ‘Mister Stark, when it happens, please hold on. I can’t lose you either.’

‘Okay Pete,’ Tony assures, his hands shaking with the urge to drag his kid back, safe in his arms. ‘After this is all over, we’re going to hold a movie night okay? With pizza.’

‘And Star Wars?’ Peter asks hopefully. Mister Stark laughs, his eyes wet. The smile is all Peter demands before he jumps out the window, not waiting for an answer. He prays that he’s done enough without messing anything up. He hopes.

---

When Peter makes it back to his own time, his phone pings with a message.

It reads; ‘Hey kid, still up for a movie night?’ send by Tony Stark.