#Tony stark is a control freak

[denebolablack]

Okay, can we talk about how this quote is literally the whole Tony's life? Like he was a genius, and he definitely grew up too fast for his age (damn, he was in MIT at the age of FOURTEEN). He always keeps learning and remembering things he wish he didn't, the kind of things that would haunt him at night, the kidn of things that would make him feel useless cuz there are things that he just CAN'T stop even if he tries. But at the same time, he WANTS to know things because he needs control, especially after Afghanistan (because when he let other people control things, his weapons were sold to terrorists and he almost died).

So Tony Stark wants to know everything because he needs control, but he hates knowing everything because there are some things that he just CAN'T fix no matter how hard he tries.

And he can't let go of that.

He can't lose control.

Because when he loses control, people die.

He is a control freak because he is afraid of trust again because when he trust people, they betray him or they get hurt.

[minimarvelh]

Tony: kiddo by any chance did you tell anyone that I adopted you?

Peter: of course, mr.Stark, I am a freaking teenager with no self control who desperately adored you, of course I did.

Tony: jeez, that was a good one, but no need for sarcasm.

Peter: huh? I was serious, mr. Stark.

[riovidalupdates]

LAST GIRL STANDING - i.

part ii.

“I’m not asking you to stay. I’m asking if this was ever real?” - Wanda Maximoff

“The issue with time is that it’s endless, yet, there’s never enough. How does it fit with us?” - Rio Vidal

“You were never a priority, but you became one that I can’t lose now.” - Agatha Harkness

pairings: wanda maximoff x fem!reader, agatha harkness x fem!reader, and rio vidal x fem!reader

summary: you’ve come to learn that you can love more than one person—because you love them in different ways. the problem: they love you in one way. so, who are you in love with and who gets hurt?

warnings: cursing, angst, intimate moments but not sex, and other stuff that i'll add as time goes on.

notes: this one has been in my drafts for a long time. i did a little bit of revision and editing, but i am busy and i do want to get this story going. as it goes on I will be more efficient with the editing. it is also a college au so there is no witches or anything like that, but other works will be! enjoy! chapters will be longer and the writing will get better. It’s been awhile since I’ve actually written a story, but I’ve been working on so many other projects and I had this all planned out before I got my new job.

word count: 1.4k

・❥・

There was never a time where you ever thought you’d be losing your sanity. Months ago, you only ever known the beauty of peace, having full control over your thoughts and emotions with no consequences. Where does the chaos abruptly begin, how does it begin, and why does it begin?

Because fuck all that, why do you have to be involved in a mess that you didn’t ask for?

You stared out of your dorm window, tracing the movement of students below as they hurried between classes. The campus was alive with energy—laughter, chatter, and the constant shuffle of feet on the worn pathways—but it all felt distant to you, like watching life happen through a glass pane. From the outside, you seemed well-adjusted. A few close friends, decent grades, a knack for blending in at social events. But lately, you had begun to feel a quiet, persistent void growing inside, one that friendship, academic success, and even casual flings couldn’t quite fill.

It wasn't that you were lonely in the traditional sense. In fact, you had friends—great friends who provided the utmost support in all that you do. Natasha Romanoff from work, Kate Bishop from short-film club, Steve Rogers from gym (he was also Natasha’s boyfriend), Tony Stark who crashed into your car the first day of move-in (he paid for all damages after you punched him), and Wanda Maximoff, your best friend. Wanda had been by your side for years, a constant source of home. There was so much to your overall relationship with her that it couldn’t be replicated with the others or anyone. Even if you were to try.

But no matter how much you spent time with Wanda, she found her footing in rather quick. And while you don’t want to assume things are going well for her, you could at least tell she was happiest when she was in the arms of her obnoxious, academically skilled boyfriend, Vision. Vision who is ahead of the IT program, the captain of the golf team, and somehow Tony’s coworker at Stark’s Industries (who cares about some intellectual freak? Not you).

Anyway, it felt like there was something missing, some deeper connection you couldn’t quite grasp. Sometimes, you’d feel yourself pulling back in conversations, faking a smile here and there when noticing yourself drifting out of sync.

You sigh as you turned away from the window, grabbing your backpack, and slinging it over your shoulder. Another day of classes to get to, papers to turn in, and your typical routine to follow. It all felt so automatic, like living on autopilot.

Perhaps there was something you weren’t doing. Maybe you were actively doing something to avoid fulfilling that aspect of void?

Your phone buzzed on the desk—Wanda.

“Dinner tonight?” She asks once you pick up. “And I swear if you say no, I am going to drive to your class and drag you out myself.”

 You considered telling her no for a moment but it’s Wanda and because of that you say, “Sure. Just don’t barge in like last time. Felt like I got in trouble with my mother…”  Despite your growing sense of detachment, you couldn’t bring herself to decline. You’ve been avoiding her like the plague. She’s your best friend and has asked to hang out for the last month or so only for you to be nowhere. Questions were beginning to rise, and you weren’t ready to answer any of them.

Her laughter echoed through and you kind of forget that you were falling into a hole of emptiness. “Look, I gotta go,  I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah. See you, dekta.”

Dekta. It was always that.

As you made your way across campus, weaving through the throngs of students, you felt a heaviness settle in your chest. Classes, work, clubs, and repeat. How was it that you could be surrounded by people, involved in their lives, and still feel like an outsider looking in?

You loved your friends, or at least you thought you did, but lately, even that felt like a lie you told yourself. You enjoyed your courses. So what if you have to stay up until 2am for shoots and editing, you wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t enjoy it. Actually, you were late to register, and this was kind of a last minute decision.  And you were president for the short film club, but you kind of are guessing why you’re doing this all because you hate people.

The reality is, it’s to avoid facing the deeper truth: that connection, the real kind, the kind that made you feel alive and seen. Not just from relationships, courses, and social life.

Was this what your life was going to be? Always on the fringes, never fully connecting? You wanted more but didn’t know how to get it. Maybe you didn’t even know what “more” really was.

You were good at pretending everything was fine, good at putting on a show of contentment. But deep down, you knew you were waiting for something—or someone—to break through that glass pane that kept you at arm’s length from everyone around.

But until then, you’d keep going, navigating your college life as best as you could, feeling more like an observer than a participant.

・❥・

You sat across from Wanda at your usual spot in the campus dining hall, picking at her salad as Wanda animatedly recounted the latest drama involving her boyfriend, Vision. You nodded along, making the appropriate sounds of sympathy and surprise, but part of you couldn't help but tune out the problem.

“I swear, sometimes he just doesn’t listen,” Wanda continued, exasperation creeping into her voice. “Last night I..." She sighed, looking down at her food. "I told him I needed space and time to collect my thoughts about where this is going, but he kept calling and texting, so we could talk it out..."

You forced yourself back into the conversation. “Sounds like he’s not respecting your boundaries,” you offered, glancing up at Wanda. You couldn’t help the slight resentment that crept in whenever Vision came up. There was always an unspoken tension in your friendship, one that emerged whenever Wanda talked about her boyfriend.

You didn’t know exactly why you disliked him—maybe it was his arrogant demeanor, or the way he always seemed to treat Wanda as an accessory rather than an equal. She would often vent about the small ways in which he let her down, like forgetting their date plans or brushing off her opinions, but then she would always follow it up with some form of an excuse that he cares. You would just nod along, hiding the skepticism behind a supportive smile.

"Tell me about it,” Wanda huffed, shaking her head. “It's a flaw of his and when the time is right, we'll discuss it and how we can better ourselves. Enough about me though, how about you? Anything exciting that requires you to get out of that hermit crab shell of yours? Maybe with...that TA? Angus, right?"

You snickered but also couldn’t help but notice how Wanda seemed to skirt around anything serious about her relationship with Vision (what a prick). There was a glint of something—maybe uncertainty, maybe resignation—in her eyes when she spoke about him. You wondered if Wanda was just as skilled at pretending everything was fine as you were. It made you feel a little less alone, knowing you weren’t the only one hiding something.

Yet, despite your doubts about the boyfriend, you never voiced your concerns outright. The last thing you wanted was to come across as jealous or possessive. Deep down, you wondered if there was a part of you that simply didn’t want to share Wanda—a feeling you quickly buried before it could grow into something more troubling.

Your face flushed at the mention of Agatha, and you quickly took a sip of water to hide the embarrassment. “Her name is Agnes,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes for effect. So, maybe you kind of lied. Only because you didn't want Wanda to track and stalk the girl. "And she's just intriguing..."

"Intriguing, huh?” Wanda teased. “You should talk to her more. Or, you know, talk to her at all.”

“Very funny,” You shot back. “It’s not that simple.”

But maybe it was. Maybe if you could muster up the courage to actually talk to Agatha, you’d feel less like you were floating aimlessly and more like you were taking control of your own life. You could already hear Wanda’s voice in your head, encouraging you to just go for it, to not overthink it, to take a chance.

[shybluebirdninja]

Winter Shrink

Summary: When Bucky accidentally gets shrunk to the size of a cat by one of Tony’s gadgets, his girlfriend has to help him navigate life from a dollhouse while avoiding getting squished by her Roomba.

Pairing            : Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Girlfriend-Reader Genre             : Fluff

It started like any other day. Well, any other day when you’re dating a super-soldier who constantly gets roped into Stark’s science projects. You were lounging on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when Bucky burst through the door with that serious look on his face — the one that usually meant some weird shit had gone down.

“Hey babe,” he called, his voice sounding... odd. You glanced up, expecting to see him in his usual towering, intimidating form. Except... you didn’t see him.

You blinked. “Bucky?”

“Down here.”

You looked down, and your jaw literally dropped. There he was, Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier himself, but he was no taller than a freaking cat. Maybe even smaller.

“Jesus Christ,” you gasped, covering your mouth in shock. “What the hell happened to you?”

Bucky, standing on your hardwood floor in his tiny combat boots, crossed his arms over his mini vibranium arm like he was still the most badass thing in the room. “Stark happened. Dumbass was messing with some size-reduction tech. Next thing I know, I’m fun-sized.”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. Like, full-on hysterics.

Bucky’s tiny face twitched. “It’s not that funny.”

“Bucky, you’re like... like a doll!” you choked between giggles. “Oh my god, I can’t breathe.”

“Glad to see you’re taking this seriously,” he muttered, looking thoroughly unimpressed as he stomped over to the leg of the coffee table. Which, at his current size, was basically the height of a damn tree.

You wiped away a tear, trying to regain your composure. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. But seriously, how long are you gonna be like this?”

Bucky glanced up at you, his tiny hands on his hips. “Tony said a few hours, maybe more.”

“Oh great,” you said, trying not to laugh again. “So what, I just have to babysit mini-Bucky until he figures it out?”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Bucky grumbled. “I’m still the Winter Soldier, doll. Just… compact.”

You snorted. “Right, right. You’re so scary right now.”

Bucky’s scowl deepened, but before he could say anything else, you heard a low hum from the other room. Your eyes widened in realization. The Roomba.

“Shit, Bucky, move!”

“What—?”

You darted forward just as the Roomba rounded the corner like a robot assassin, heading straight for Tiny Bucky. He turned, eyes going wide as the thing came barreling toward him.

“Seriously? A fucking Roomba?!” Bucky yelped, diving out of the way just in time.

You snatched him up in one hand, clutching him to your chest like an action figure while the Roomba buzzed past. “Holy crap, you almost got squished.”

Bucky’s tiny heart was pounding against your fingers, but he quickly brushed it off, trying to act like he hadn’t just narrowly avoided death by robot vacuum. “I had it under control.”

“Sure you did,” you teased, still holding him in your hand like a living GI Joe. “Should I get you a dollhouse or something? You know, so you have a safe base of operations.”

Bucky shot you a glare. “Don’t push it.”

But the idea of him living in a dollhouse was just too good to pass up. You carried him over to the coffee table and gently set him down, making sure to keep him out of Roomba’s range.

“So,” you said, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him, “what’s the plan, Mini Barnes? Just hang out and hope Tony doesn’t take his sweet time fixing you?”

Bucky, who had climbed onto a nearby book to avoid feeling like a speck on the table, shrugged. “Guess so. But if that thing—” he nodded toward the Roomba, still mindlessly circling the living room, “—comes near me again, I’m taking it out.”

You grinned. “I’d love to see that. You, taking down a Roomba with your tiny fists.”

Bucky flexed his mini vibranium arm like it was still the deadliest weapon in the world. “Don’t underestimate me just ‘cause I’m fun-sized.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m not,” you said, smirking. “You’re still pretty intimidating... you know, for a dude who’s shorter than my coffee mug.”

He sighed, running a hand through his shrunken hair. “This is fucking humiliating.”

“Come on, Bucky, it’s kinda cute.”

His eyes snapped to yours, and if looks could kill, well, you’d probably still be alive because it was hard to take him seriously when he was that size. “Cute?”

You nodded, grinning. “Yep. Cute. Like a little tough-guy action figure.”

Bucky groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. “I’m never gonna live this down, am I?”

“Nope,” you said cheerfully. “I’m taking pictures later, too.”

He glared at you again. “If you do, I’ll—”

“What? Glare at my ankles?”

“Doll.”

You giggled, leaning down so you were eye level with him, his tiny face practically vibrating with frustration. “Okay, okay, I’ll cut you some slack… for now.”

Bucky, finally giving up on the idea of intimidating you, collapsed onto the table like a dramatic action figure who just lost his day job. “This better wear off soon. I’m not built for this.”

“Well, you are built small now,” you teased, earning yourself another mini-death-glare.

You were still laughing to yourself when the Roomba buzzed by again, and Bucky, from his spot on the table, narrowed his eyes. “That thing’s mocking me.”

You had to physically hold yourself back from laughing again. “Maybe it is. Maybe the Roomba’s the real enemy here.”

Bucky crossed his arms, staring the Roomba down like he was ready to declare war. “First Stark, then the Roomba. Everyone’s out to get me.”

“Well, at least you’ve still got me, soldier.” You winked at him, leaning back on your hands. “I’ll protect you from the big, bad vacuum.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, sure, doll. Whatever you say.”

[alice1939]

Emperor Stark episode has great characterization of Tony and Stevetony moments. I love how Tony is a man who always try to fight his own control freak nature to be a good man, and Steve believes in him even more than himself.

[amethystarachnid]

FEAR

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony "Tony" Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, angst, fluff, a little spicy

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5k

ᯓ★ TW(s): spicy kisses, reader is insecure

ᯓ★ Request: Hii, tony stark x reader + friends to lovers, please? 😁 with smut if possible 😁😁 ( @ts-rdj-reader)

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ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language, feel free to correct me kindly please

You’re sitting in the lab at Stark Tower, watching Tony work, and that’s when it hits you. It’s not like some dramatic, slow-motion moment where everything clicks into place with fireworks in the background. No, it’s quieter than that. Subtle. Almost sneaky. It’s just Tony, as he always is: focused, slightly manic, throwing out sarcastic comments that make you roll your eyes, but secretly smile.

“Y/N,” Tony calls out, not even looking up from the holographic display in front of him. “Are you going to just stare at me all day, or are you going to actually help me with this? You know, contribute something to society?”

You blink, startled out of your thoughts, and immediately feel your cheeks heat up. God, were you really just staring? What is wrong with you? You’ve never been this… distracted by him before. Not like this.

“Sorry, I was...uh...thinking,” you lie, trying to shake off whatever weird realization is buzzing in your brain.

Tony doesn’t even glance your way. “Thinking? That’s dangerous. Especially in here. I’m trying to build a reactor, not accidentally blow us up because your mind is somewhere else. Come on, get your head in the game, Y/L/N.”

You force a laugh, hoping it sounds casual, but it feels strained. “Right. Reactor. I’m on it.”

As you move to join him, you do your best to shove down the sudden burst of awareness that’s decided to rear its head today. You and Tony? No. That’s ridiculous. He’s your best friend, your boss, and, let’s be real, way out of your league. He’s Tony freaking Stark, billionaire genius, walking chaos, with charm and charisma that have landed him just about any person he’s ever wanted. He doesn’t do serious relationships, and he definitely wouldn’t look at you like that.

Would he?

No. Don’t even go there. You can’t afford to let your mind wander down that path. It’s dangerous. It’s… stupid.

Still, as you work side by side with him, your eyes can’t help but flicker to the way his hands move, quick and precise, always in control, always tinkering. You think about the way he makes you laugh, even on your worst days, or how he checks in on you when he thinks no one’s looking, dropping off coffee at your desk without saying a word. There are the little things too, the inside jokes, the quiet moments after long days of saving the world, when it’s just the two of you, sitting in companionable silence.

It’s all those things that have started to pile up, one after the other, until suddenly you’re drowning in this feeling you can’t quite name...Or rather, one you don’t want to name. Because if you name it, if you admit it, it becomes real. And once it’s real, it’s going to wreck everything.

“Y/N,” Tony’s voice cuts through the thick fog of your thoughts, and this time, he’s looking right at you, his sharp brown eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What’s up with you today? You’ve been weird for the past hour.”

You freeze, panic rising in your chest. He’s too perceptive for his own good. Damn it. “I’m not being weird.”

“Yeah, you are.” He crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head. “You’re quiet. You’re never this quiet. Spill it. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You flinch, knowing if anyone could see through your defenses, it’s him. He always has. That’s part of the problem, isn’t it? He knows you too well. He’ll see right through any lie you come up with, any excuse you make. And once he does… what then? He’ll realize how you feel, and you’ll become just another awkward footnote in the complicated history of Tony Stark’s relationships. Except this time, you’ll lose the best friend you’ve ever had.

You clear your throat, scrambling for something to say. “It’s just… work stuff. I’m fine, Tony.”

He stares at you for a long moment, his gaze heavy, as if he doesn’t believe you. And why would he? He knows you better than anyone. But finally, he relents, letting out a sigh and turning back to the reactor prototype in front of him. “Whatever you say, Y/N. But just so you know, your poker face? It sucks.”

You swallow hard, laughing a little too loudly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Anytime.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm, but there’s an undercurrent of concern there too, one that makes your heart tighten in your chest.

It’s not fair, how easily he can make you feel like this. How just being near him makes your pulse race and your stomach twist. You’ve always known Tony had a way of getting under your skin, but this? This is different. This is worse. Because now, you’ve fallen for him, and there’s no coming back from that.

But you can’t let him know. You won’t.

For the rest of the day, you force yourself to be as normal as possible. You joke with him, laugh at his ridiculous quips, and do your best to avoid those moments when his gaze lingers on you for just a second too long. It’s torture, but you manage to keep your cool...Barely. By the time you leave the lab, you’re exhausted, both mentally and emotionally.

As you step into the elevator, your mind is still spinning, replaying every little interaction with Tony, overanalyzing every look, every word. Did he notice? Does he know? God, if he figures it out…

Just as the doors begin to close, Tony’s voice calls out from the hallway. “Y/N, hold up.”

Your heart jumps into your throat as he slips into the elevator with you, his expression unreadable. He doesn’t say anything at first, just presses the button for your floor and leans back against the wall, arms crossed, watching you out of the corner of his eye.

The silence between you feels thick, heavy with unspoken things. You want to say something, anything, to break it, but your mind is blank. For once, you can’t find the words, and it terrifies you.

Finally, Tony speaks, his voice quieter than usual, a hint of something serious lurking beneath the sarcasm. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

He shifts his weight, turning to face you fully. “Whatever’s going on with you...It’s not just work. I know when you’re stressed about work, and this… this isn’t that. So, what’s really going on?”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache. He’s giving you an opening, a chance to tell him the truth. But you can’t. You can’t risk it. Not when there’s so much at stake.

“I’m fine, Tony,” you say, your voice a little too firm. “I promise.”

He watches you for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes, and for a second, you think he’s going to push further. But then he just sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Alright. Fine. Be mysterious. But if you ever decide to stop being a stubborn ass, you know where to find me.”

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open to your floor. You step out, feeling like you’ve just dodged a bullet, but as the doors close behind you, you realize something else: this isn’t over. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s only going to get worse.

Because no matter how hard you try to hide it, you’re already falling for Tony Stark. And it’s only a matter of time before everything falls apart.

Tony Stark isn’t exactly known for being emotionally in tune. Sure, he’s brilliant — genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist and all that — but when it comes to feelings, he’s about as clueless as they come. That’s probably why it takes him a while to notice that something’s been off between you two lately. Not off in a bad way, just… different.

For weeks now, he’s felt a strange tension hanging in the air whenever you’re around. You’ll be sitting side by side in the lab, working together like always, and suddenly, there’ll be this silence that feels loaded with something neither of you are acknowledging. He’ll make some sarcastic comment, and instead of your usual sharp comeback, you’ll just give him this soft, lingering look that makes his chest tighten.

At first, he brushes it off. Maybe you’re just distracted. Maybe it’s stress. Hell, maybe you’re sick of his company. But then, one night, it hits him.

It’s after midnight, and the two of you are still in the lab, burning the midnight oil as usual. You’re both tired, but you don’t want to leave until the project you’re working on is at least somewhat functional. Tony’s sitting on one of the stools, scribbling down notes on a piece of paper, while you’re across the room tinkering with one of the prototypes. He glances up to ask you something, but the words freeze in his throat.

You’re standing there, bathed in the soft glow of the workshop lights, your hair slightly tousled from hours of working, your brow furrowed in concentration as you carefully adjust the wires on the circuit board in front of you. There’s a faint smudge of grease on your cheek, and the sleeves of your shirt are rolled up to your elbows. It’s nothing new, he’s seen you like this a thousand times before, but something about the moment feels different.

His breath catches in his throat, and for the first time, he really sees you. Not just his best friend, not just his partner in crime, but you, funny, brilliant, stubborn, always ready to challenge him, always pushing him to be better. His mind races back over the past few months, and suddenly, everything clicks into place.

The long nights spent together, the easy banter, the way his heart seems to race when you’re close to him, how he finds excuses to hang out with you even when he doesn’t need to… and the way he misses you when you’re not around.

Oh, no.

He’s in love with you.

Tony almost laughs at the absurdity of it all. The great Tony Stark, falling for his best friend? The same man who’s spent years avoiding anything remotely close to a serious relationship, and here he is, head over heels for the one person he can’t afford to screw things up with.

He doesn’t say anything, just watches you for a moment longer, his heart pounding in his chest. You look up, catching him staring, and for a brief second, something flickers in your eyes, something soft, almost vulnerable. But then you look away, brushing your hair behind your ear, and the moment passes.

“Hey, genius,” you call out, breaking the silence. “You gonna help me with this or just sit there staring at me like a weirdo?”

Tony snaps out of it, shaking his head as he tries to clear his thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he says, hopping off the stool and walking over to you, determined to bury this newfound revelation under layers of sarcasm and work.

He can’t deal with this right now. He’s Tony Stark, for god’s sake. He doesn’t do feelings.

But deep down, he knows there’s no escaping it.

For the next few weeks, everything changes. Well, sort of. You and Tony still hang out all the time, you still work together, you still exchange your usual discussions, but there’s this tension between you now, this unspoken something that neither of you are acknowledging.

You feel it every time his arm brushes against yours when you’re working side by side, or when he makes some smartass remark and you laugh a little too hard, only to catch him looking at you with that same intensity that sends a flutter through your chest.

But you’re scared. Terrified, actually. You know how Tony is with relationships, he doesn’t do them, and even if he did, you’re not sure you could ever be what he needs. He’s Tony Stark, larger than life, always moving a mile a minute. And you? You’re just… you. How could you ever compare to the women who’ve come in and out of his life, the ones who are glamorous, confident, and, let’s face it, completely different from you.

So, you try to push your feelings down, bury them deep where they can’t mess things up. You can’t lose Tony. Not like this. You’d rather be his friend forever than risk ruining what you have by admitting you’ve fallen for him.

What you don’t know is that Tony’s going through the exact same thing.

He can’t stop thinking about you, no matter how hard he tries. He spends hours lying awake at night, replaying every interaction between you, wondering if you feel the same way, and cursing himself for not having the guts to find out. But he’s scared too. For all his bravado and confidence, when it comes to you, Tony’s terrified. He’s never had someone in his life like you before, someone who really knows him, sees him for who he is, flaws and all.

The thought of losing you? Of screwing things up and ruining the best thing in his life? That’s enough to make him keep his mouth shut, no matter how much it kills him.

One evening, after a particularly long day, the two of you end up in Tony’s penthouse, sprawled out on the couch, a bottle of whiskey sitting between you. It’s a familiar scene: just you and Tony, unwinding after a long day, laughing and talking about everything and nothing. But tonight, something feels different. There’s a charge in the air, something unsaid that’s been hanging between you for weeks.

You take a sip of your drink, your eyes wandering over to Tony. He’s sitting next to you, his arm draped over the back of the couch, his head tilted back as he stares up at the ceiling. There’s a quietness about him tonight, a kind of vulnerability that you don’t see often.

“You ever wonder what it would be like if things were… different?” he asks suddenly, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your tone casual, not wanting to give anything away. “Different how?”

Tony shrugs, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “You know, if we weren’t… us. If we were different people, with different lives. Maybe things wouldn’t be so complicated.”

You swallow hard, your pulse quickening. “What’s complicated about it?”

He glances over at you, and for a moment, you see something in his eyes that makes your breath catch. Something raw, something real. But just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone, replaced by the familiar smirk you know so well.

“Nothing,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “Just thinking out loud. Ignore me. I’ve had too much to drink.”

You bite your lip, your chest tightening as you try to push down the disappointment that’s rising in your throat. He was so close to saying something—so close to opening up, to finally talking about what’s been hanging between you. But, as always, he retreats behind his armor of sarcasm and bravado, and the moment slips away.

You lean back against the couch, forcing yourself to relax. You can’t let yourself get caught up in this. Tony’s never going to say anything, and neither are you. It’s just the way things are.

But that doesn’t stop your heart from aching.

The tension between you two builds over the next few weeks, until it’s practically unbearable. Every touch, every glance feels charged with unspoken words, and you’re both teetering on the edge of something you’re too scared to face.

It all comes to a head one night after a particularly rough mission. You’re exhausted, bruised, and still a little shaken from the close call you had out in the field. Tony’s even more on edge than usual, his temper flaring as he snaps at everyone around him, barking orders and refusing to listen to reason.

You follow him back to the Tower, watching as he storms into the lab, his face a mask of frustration and anger. You know him well enough to see what’s really going on—he’s scared. Tony hides his fear behind anger, always has, but you’re not about to let him shut you out.

“Tony,” you say softly, stepping into the lab after him. “Talk to me.”

He doesn’t look at you, just starts pulling pieces of equipment off the shelves, muttering under his breath. “Not now, Y/N.”

“Tony, stop,” you say, your voice firm as you walk up to him, placing a hand on his arm. “Whatever’s going on, you can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep shutting me out.”

He freezes at your touch, his jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and something else—something deeper. For a

moment, you think he’s going to brush you off again, but then, suddenly, he turns to face you, his eyes blazing.

“You want to know what’s going on?” he snaps, his voice harsh. “Fine. I’ll tell you. I’m scared, okay? I’m scared that one of these days, I’m going to lose you. I’m scared that I’m going to screw things up, like I always do, and you’ll be the one who pays for it. And I can’t...” His voice breaks, and he runs a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping. “I can’t lose you, Y/N. I just… I can’t.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, your heart pounding. He’s never been this open with you before, never let you see this side of him. And suddenly, all the walls you’ve built around your heart come crashing down.

“I’m not going anywhere, Tony,” you say softly, stepping closer to him. “I’m right here. I’ve always been here.”

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and for the first time, there’s no smirk, no sarcastic remark to deflect what he’s feeling. There’s just Tony, raw and vulnerable, standing in front of you, his heart laid bare.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, before the doubt creeps back in, you surge forward, closing the gap between you in an instant. This time, the kiss isn’t soft or tentative like the first, it’s hungry, desperate, and filled with all the emotions you've been trying to hide.

Tony doesn’t hesitate. The second your lips crash into his, his hands are on you, gripping your waist firmly as he pulls you flush against him. His kiss is rougher, more demanding, his lips parting yours with a quiet groan that sends heat pooling in your stomach. You gasp into his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair as he deepens the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that leaves you breathless.

Your back hits the lab table behind you, the cool metal contrasting sharply with the heat of Tony’s body pressed against yours. One of his hands slips down to your thigh, lifting it to hook around his hip, anchoring you closer as his lips move against yours with an intensity that has your head spinning.

His grip tightens on you, the kiss turning frantic as if both of you are trying to make up for all the moments you’ve avoided this, for all the tension that’s been building for months, maybe years. The way he’s kissing you, like he’s been waiting for this just as long as you have, makes your heart race even faster.

But then the weight of it hits you, everything this could mean, everything this could ruin.

You pull back sharply, breaking the kiss as your breath comes out in shaky gasps. Tony stares at you, wide-eyed, his expression a mix of surprise and something else—something you’re not ready to face.

“I—” you stammer, taking a step back, your mind racing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

Tony takes a step toward you, his hand reaching for you, but you’re already moving, already pulling away from him and the mess of emotions swirling between you.

Without thinking, you turn and run.

“Y/N, wait!” Tony calls after you, his voice panicked, but you don’t stop. You can’t stop. Your heart is pounding, your mind racing with a thousand different thoughts, all of them crashing into each other like waves in a storm.

What did you just do?

You practically sprint out of the lab, heading for the nearest exit as your heart thunders in your chest. You don’t know where you’re going. You just need space. You need to think. You need to breathe.

You run out of the building, the cool night air hitting your skin like a shock to the system. It’s a relief, in a way, the cold helping to snap you back to reality. But your mind is still racing, replaying that kiss over and over again. The way his lips felt on yours. The way his hands held you, like he was afraid to let go.

This was a mistake.

You tell yourself that over and over again as you walk aimlessly down the dark streets, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You and Tony, best friends for years, always dancing around something deeper but never daring to cross that line. And now? You’ve crossed it. And there’s no going back.

You shake your head, wiping at the tears that you hadn’t realized had started to fall. How could you have been so stupid? You’ve seen the way Tony treats relationships: brief, fleeting, never letting anyone too close. You were different. You were safe. And now, you’ve gone and ruined it.

The worst part? You know you love him. You’ve known it for a while, even if you’ve been too scared to admit it to yourself. And now that you’ve kissed him, now that you’ve felt what it’s like to have him hold you, you know there’s no turning back. But the fear, the doubt, it claws at you, telling you that you’ll never be what he needs. You’ll never be enough.

He’ll leave, just like he always does. And you can’t bear to lose him like that.

Tony stands frozen in the lab, staring at the spot where you just were, his heart still racing from the kiss. He can’t believe it, one minute, you were kissing him, and the next? You were gone.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration. His mind is spinning, replaying the way you’d pulled away, the panic in your eyes before you bolted.

He doesn’t know what to do. He’s never been good at this, at feelings, at relationships, at anything that requires him to actually open up. But you? You’re different. You’ve always been different. And now that he knows that you feel the same way, he’s terrified that he’s just blown it.

He should’ve stopped you. He should’ve said something, anything, to let you know that he’s feeling just as scared, just as confused, but instead, he let you run.

Tony paces the room, his mind racing. He’s not used to feeling helpless. In most situations, he’s the guy with all the answers, the one who can fix anything with the right tech, the right plan. But this? This is uncharted territory. He doesn’t know how to fix this. He doesn’t even know where to start.

She’s gone because she thinks it was a mistake.

The thought sends a jolt of panic through him, and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. He can’t let you walk away thinking this was a mistake. He can��t let you walk away at all.

Because for the first time in his life, Tony Stark realizes he’s scared of losing someone. Not just anyone: you.

The next few days are a blur of avoidance, both on your part and Tony’s. You throw yourself into work, keeping busy with any project you can find. Anything to keep your mind off that kiss, off the way Tony looked at you like he might actually feel the same way.

Tony’s doing the same thing. You see him around, of course, you still live at the Stark Tower after all, and avoiding him completely is next to impossible. But there’s a distance between you now, a tension that wasn’t there before. It’s awkward, but neither of you say anything. Neither of you dare to acknowledge the giant, kiss-shaped elephant in the room.

Instead, you both retreat into your old habits. Tony leans on his sarcasm, cracking jokes that fall flat, while you throw yourself into your work, avoiding his gaze whenever you’re in the same room together. It’s like you’re both walking on eggshells, terrified of what might happen if one of you breaks the silence.

You hate it. You hate the awkwardness, the tension, the way things have changed between you. You miss the ease you used to have with Tony, the way you could just be you around him without worrying about anything else. But now? Everything’s different, and you don’t know how to get back to what you had.

Worse, you don’t even know if you want to.

Because the truth is, you don’t think you can go back. Not after that kiss. Not after feeling what it was like to have him hold you, to kiss you like he actually meant it. And that scares the hell out of you.

You’ve been in love with Tony for longer than you care to admit, but you’ve always pushed it down, telling yourself it was better to stay friends, better to keep things simple. But now, after that kiss, you can’t ignore it anymore. You can’t pretend that you don’t want more.

The problem is, you’re pretty sure Tony doesn’t want the same thing. He’s Tony Stark, he doesn’t do relationships, not serious ones, anyway. And even if he did… why would he want you?

That thought lingers in your mind, eating away at you. You’re not enough for him. You’ll never be enough. And that’s why, even though the kiss was everything you’ve ever wanted, you know it was a mistake.

It has to be.

It’s another late night in the lab, just like any other night. Or at least, that’s what you’re trying to tell yourself. But you can feel Tony’s eyes on you as you work, and it’s driving you insane.

You haven’t talked about what happened. You haven’t even mentioned it. And it’s starting to suffocate you.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You slam your tools down on the table, turning to face Tony, who’s sitting across the room, fiddling with a circuit board.

“We need to talk,” you say, your voice sharper than you intended.

Tony looks up, his eyes wide with surprise. “Talk about what?”

You give him a look, crossing your arms over your chest. “You know what.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Tony sighs, running a hand through his hair as he stands up and walks over to you.

“Look,” he says, his voice softer now, more serious. “I get it. You think the kiss was a mistake.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Tony holds up a hand, cutting you off. “But here’s the thing, Y/N. It wasn’t. At least, not for me.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you force yourself to stay calm, to not get your hopes up. “Tony, don’t—”

“No, listen,” he interrupts, stepping closer. “I’ve been thinking about this, about us, and I know I’ve screwed up a lot in my life. Hell, I’ve probably screwed this up too. But I don’t want to keep pretending that kiss didn’t mean anything.”

You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the moment you’ve been dreading, the moment you’ve been avoiding. And yet, you can’t help but feel a flicker of hope.

Tony takes another step closer, his eyes searching yours. “I don’t know what this is, Y/N. I don’t have all the answers. But I do know one thing: I don’t want to lose you. Not as a friend, not as anything. So if you’re willing to take a chance on me… on us… then I’m all in.”

For a moment, you just stand there, staring at him, your mind racing. This is it. The moment you’ve been waiting for, the moment you’ve been terrified of. And yet, as you look into Tony’s eyes, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this is worth the risk.

“I’m scared,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Me too,” Tony says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

And in that moment, you know you can’t run anymore. You take a deep breath, stepping forward, closing the distance between you.

“I’m in,” you whisper.

Tony grins, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you into a kiss. And this time, you don’t run. You don’t push him away.

Because this time, you know it’s real.

“God, Y/N,” he breathes against your lips between kisses, his voice rough with need. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

The confession stokes the fire burning between you, and you kiss him harder, your fingers trailing down his chest, feeling the hard lines of muscle beneath his shirt. He groans into your mouth, his hand sliding up your back, pulling you even closer as his teeth graze your bottom lip, sending a shiver of pleasure straight through you.

It’s overwhelming, intoxicating, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of losing control. Every kiss, every touch from Tony makes your whole body ache for more, and suddenly, you’re not sure you can stop this. You’re not sure you want to stop this.

But just as quickly as it began, a flicker of fear pulls you back. You break the kiss, gasping for air as you pull away slightly, your forehead resting against his, both of you breathless. Tony’s hands stay on you, his grip firm but not demanding, as if he’s giving you the space to decide where this goes next.

And in that brief moment, reality crashes back in, the weight of everything you’re risking between you. Your heart is racing, your lips swollen from the kiss, and every nerve in your body is screaming at you to give in, to let this happen. But the fear, of losing him, of ruining what you have, still lingers at the edges of your mind.

“I can’t lose you,” you whisper, your voice shaky, torn between desire and doubt. “Tony, I...”

His hand cups your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your lips, still damp from the kiss. “You won’t,” he says softly, his voice steady despite the heat still burning in his eyes. “I promise you, Y/N. You won’t lose me.”

The sincerity in his voice, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters, is enough to make you believe him. For the first time, you let yourself believe that maybe this, you and him, could work.

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch, and with one last look into his eyes, you crash your lips back into his, giving yourself over completely this time. And this kiss? This one isn’t frantic. It’s deep, slow, and filled with the promise of everything that’s been building between you for so long.

Tony moans into your mouth, his hands roaming your body with newfound confidence, and you can feel the heat between you growing, spiraling out of control. His lips trail down your jaw, then lower, tracing a hot path along your neck that has you gasping his name.

This time, you don’t pull away. You don’t run.

You stay, letting yourself fall.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ♡ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

I don't know if I like this or not but well...here we are. If you liked it like, reblog and leave a comment if you want! <3

[bennie-jerry]

My Beef with Wanda Maximoff - An MCU Rant

Sorry not sorry, I will ride the Wanda-ain't-shiitake train till the wheels are worn out. I do not care what her fangirls say. And if you're legitimately going to be so overly offended just from me disliking a FICTIONAL character, I highly suggest you click off, make some tea, and watch a Ghibli movie.

How many times does it need to be said? Just because someone suffers from some form of (small or big) trauma, IT DOESN’T GIVE THEM A PASS TO DO EVIL SH—

I really REALLY sincerely hope there's lore or bits I'm missing here (and if so, PLEASE tell me because I WANT to be wrong so BAD). But from what I know and remember, I feel as though I have every right to be disgusted with who Wanda is as a person.

It frustrates me so much how this carmine-colored narcissist will whine about people being scared of her, but she does stuff only a scary person WOULD do.

Purposefully setting the Hulk off so you could use him as a wrecking ball on innocent civilians in Johannesburg during Age of Ultron? Seems scary as heck.

Literally warping the universe itself to hunt and kill a teenager who did nothing to you during Multiverse of Madness? Seems scary as heck.

Brainwashing an ENTIRE town JUST so you can live in delusion about your man not being dead during Wandavision? Seems DOUBLE scary as heck.

Don't even try to defend what she did in Age of Ultron. Even if she supposedly didn't INTEND to have civilians killed, she sure as HECK didn't seem all too sorry that it happened. She wasn't ‘regretful’ that she did it. She was only ‘regretful' when Bruce confronted her on it. She has the nerve (the utter AUDACITY) to hate Tony Stark for the same CRAP that she does (if not worse, which let's be honest—it’s worse).

At least Tony Stark DIED out of an effort to save everyone, whereas Wanda usually tends to only help others when it benefits HER.

Wanda is nothing more than a Multiversal brat with a god-complex and no one can tell me otherwise. If something does not go 100% her way, she completely acts out and throws a reality-warping tantrum.

“Oh, but she tried to fix everything in Wandavision!”

Yeah, only after finding out she was BRAINWASHING people!

How the FREAK do you reality warp an ENTIRE town (especially at the large radius she used her magic) and expect NO one to be under mind control? Would you NOT try to fly around the premises to see if ANYONE else was there?

Once again, even if this was an example where she didn't INTEND for it to happen, then that proves another great flaw that she has.

Wanda hardly (if ever) thinks through her actions. And then when her actions bite her in the butt, she has the nerve to be surprised. Wanda almost never (and I'm being generous here) considers how her actions harm or affect others until it turns around and affects HER.

She did not deserve Vision, he was too good of a man for her, sorry not sorry.

Just the stuff she did BEFORE Multiverse of Madness ALONE is enough to not like her.

Let's not even get into the fact she never ACTUALLY apologized to Bruce Banner for everything she put him through. All she said at most when he confronted her is, “I know you're angry…”

Oh wow, REALLY? I couldn't POSSIBLY understand why Banner would EVER be angry at you for essentially brain-raping him (going into his mind and memories without his CONSENT) and using his worst fears against him to trigger Hulk so you could use him like a personal killing machine, further lessening the very few support systems he already HAD. She should feel grateful Banner didn't immediately throw her through a wall upon seeing her.

“But she became an avenger and helped them in Endgame!”

I could not give less of a DOOKIE about the fact she did that. Wanda fighting Thanos was literally the ONLY option she possibly had if she didn't wanna turn into dust along with the other half of the population. Sure, she also did it because she was forced to kill her boo BECAUSE of Thanos, but let's be honest—she would've had to fight him regardless. Her handing Thanos’ butt to him (while a very cool scene) doesn't prove JACK about her character.

The fact she ever BECAME an avenger after effectively traumatizing the MAJORITY of them is mind-boggling to me.

“Oh, I'm sorry I weaponized all of your traumas against you for my own personal gain because I wanted to work with a genocidal robot, can I join you guys?”

“Sure, Wanda! Come into the team and we'll pretend like you didn't do a darn thing!”

(The fact this isn't even ALL that she's done is absurd, I can still keep going—)

Don't even get me STARTED on Multiverse of Madness. And before anyone tries to say, “She did it so she could have a reality with her children!”

BRO, HER KIDS WEREN'T EVEN FREAKING REAL—

Wanda Freaking Maximoff wanted to murder a TEENAGER all for some children that were not even ACTUAL people. And when she did have them, didn't she make them FIGHT against the military in Wandavision or am I mistaken (which I VERY MUCH hope I am because what the he---)?

I do not care whatsoever what her reason is or what trauma she went through. Attempted murder of a minor (ESPECIALLY in this case, a minor who didn't even do anything) is inexcusable to me.

There is no way in frog fingers you guys are ACTUALLY trying to justify and/or downplay a grown ADULT trying to murder a CHILD (because that's what America was—a CHILD).

(Her and Miguel O'Hara would get along GREAT, when's the collab--)

And by then, she had ALREADY brutally murdered a whole bunch of people and probably corrupted the multiverse even FURTHER than she already had.

It wasn't until an ALTERNATE version of her (who ACTUALLY had her kids) told her to sit the [BLEEP] down (I'm paraphrasing here, but you get my drift).

Wanda is NOT a victim. Is she a good villain? Yes. But this witch isn't a victim. Not anymore at least. She doesn't apologize for her actions. She doesn't take responsibility. She doesn't reflect on what she does.

And even when she DOES finally do ANY of those things in ANY capacity, the damage is already done. In fact, it's not JUST done, it's also BURNT inside the oven causing smoke to go everywhere.

There is no rhyme or reason you could pull out that will convince me to be anything short of angry with this character and I'm so tired of her fans trying to defend her just because she was a lab rat and lost her man.

Once again, it's not bad to like a character that does awful stuff. But please, for sanity sake, STOP acting like they're a lost little angel BECAUSE you like them. I know they say "hurt people hurt people" but that still doesn't justify doing bad stuff just because bad things happened to YOU.

[benispunk]

One special name

Irondad & Spiderson

There's never enough irondad and spiderson content, and i love and miss them so much. Here's my improvised work from last night. Sorry for my mistakes if there's any!! xx

"Pepper is going to be so mad"

"I'm sure she'll understand, Mr.Stark. Right?"

Peter fidgets with his fingers, suddenly feeling extremely nervous. They were stuck in an elevator. Peter had followed Tony around all day, per Tony's request who just wanted to spend time with him during his very boring-full of meetings-tons of work-day.

This afternoon meeting happened to be outside of the Tower, in a building Tony or FRIDAY had no control over and which’s elevator, as they had seen, wasn't reliable. What was funny about this day was that Pepper had taken their phones so that Tony wouldn't be distracted.

"Stop treating me like a child!"

"Then stop acting like one." Pepper deadpanned earlier that day when Tony had refused to leave his penthouse.

He found the situation ironic, really. First, he doesn't want to go to work, then they take away his phone only to agree to Peter's presence who is almost 100% of the time the reason why Tony is always distracted, then they schedule meetings outside his workplace and life blocks him in an elevator. What a perfect a day.

"Why are you laughing?" Peter asked, clearly trying to ignore the signs of a panic attack. Tony seemed to realize that and forces Peter to sit down on the floor next to him.

"'Cause I didn't want to go to this meeting and even when I can't control it, life fulfills my biggest wishes". He watched as Peter huffed a laugh but didn’t seem to relax at all.

"Hey Pete, we're gonna be okay. And if there is a problem, need i remind you that you're Spider-Man and I believe to be Iron Man myself so..."

Peter chuckled this time, which made Tony smile in return.

"Right. It's just an elevator."

"Just an elevator. And it's pretty clean too, look at that." Tony pointed at the floor around them to distract Peter some more.

Suddenly, they felt the elevator move for an instant before it stopped again. The sound it made got Peter's ears to ring loudly. He immediately covered them with his hands and winced.

Tony instantly put his arms around Peter's shoulder to protect him. But the elevator didn't move again. They were definitely stuck now.

"It's okay, it stopped."

Peter slowly uncovered his ears and leaned against Tony's side.

"I'm sorry you have to be stuck with me" the teenager whispered, not quite enjoying the moment either.

Not only did he have to be stuck in an elevator, which is already one of the worst things that could happen to him, but Tony had to be there when he was totally freaking out over this stupid situation. Not forgetting the fact Tony was busy.

"Excuse me? That's probably going to be my favorite part of the day."

"I'm not joking, Mr.Stark. You shouldn’t be taking care of someone like me like that. And you're gonna be late."

Tony frowned.

"Okay, I think we're not on the same page right now." Peter felt Tony's perplexed stare on him. He decided to just brush it off and move away from Tony's embrace, already feeling embarrassed enough.

"Forget it, I'm sorry."

"You come back here, you're scared and I'm here for you, that's what it is." The man declared, scooting closer to Peter.

Tony waited for Peter's reaction but he didn't move. He was huddled up in the corner of the elevator. Tony sighed in defeat.

"One day you'll understand that you're as important to me as you make me feel in return."

"I don't think it's actually possible, Mr.Stark." Peter mumbled back, making Tony laugh out loud.

"Pff. Try me. You don't even call me by my name."

Peter lifted his head up with a gasp.

"Mr.Stark is your name."

"That's my old man's name. I'm Tony. Tones. Anthony for those I hate the most. Stark for the annoying ones."

"Yes, but you'll always be Mr.Stark for me." Tony rolled his eyes.

"Alright, Mr. Parker."

"No." Peter retorted, already knowing Tony was never going to stop.

"What did you say, Peter Benjamin Parker ?"

He had no idea how it could get worse than that.

"How dare you?"

"I'm not hearing you, Spider-Boy ."

Okay, now he knew.

"Tony, stop it please." The man in question raised his hands up in the air in triumph.

"That's my boy !" Peter chuckled and leaned back against Tony's side.

"I'm kidding, you know? You can call me however you want. Even the stupidest nicknames." Tony declared and looked up at him.

"Do you have stupid nicknames?" he asked.

"One time a guy called me Tony Stank."

Tony grinned when he heard Peter's loud laugh again. He doesn't think he can live without hearing his kid's laugh ever again.

Suddenly, the elevator started moving again, this time smootlhy and without any problems.

"Looks like we're going back up again."

They raised to their feet and waited for the doors to open to the meeting's floor.

"You'll wait in the corridor? It's pretty boring, i don't want you to endure these guys anyway." Tony said before the door opened and they were leaving the terrible elevator behind.

"Yeah, no problem"

Peter sat down on of the chairs and watched Tony approaching the meeting room, but before he could enter Peter stopped him,

"Oh and Mr-I mean, Tony?"

The man turned back around and nodded at him to go on.

"Even...Even Dad?" Peter's voice was shaking. Tony stood frozen in astonishment. He was not expecting this. But saying he hadn’t dream about it felt like a lie.

"Y-Yeah. Yeah that's a perfect name"

Peter grinned and Tony sent him a wink before finally entering the room.

[spidergrotto]

i love aus where peter works at stark industries as an intern, but he doesn’t work directly w tony and the two don’t know eachother, tony doesn’t know peters spider-man— he doesn’t even know the intern program exists.

both of them working well into the night, peter eleven floors underneath tony’s lab, working on his webs while tony adds another layer of security to one of his suits. both completely unaware of the others presence until one day peter hears tony ask his ai a question about spiderman.

“get me everything you can on him.”

he’d always try to ignore the movement happening upstairs, easedropping was fun on the ocassion but ir always made him feel bad, he avoided it, and he was learning how to control it! matt was a great teacher, he was just.. lucky? unlucky? enough to catch tony’s voice.

and now he’s freaking out, because holy shit?

[ronearoundblindly]

How does mermaid reader feel about Steve? Like what is her take on their relationship?

just fair warning if you keep writing I’m gonna keep asking questions lol.

I...don't know what happened with this, but it was kinda fun! (unedited, not long, no real warnings except, yeah, he's a human and you're a mermaid, semi-angsty fluff!!)

Steve Rogers x deep sea mermaid!Reader from Sun, Salt, and Shield

Steve is a novelty.

Originally, you just considered him a split-tail with a crown of morning sunlight and high-ocean eyes. Later on, you learned it's called 'hair,' but a closer translation based on how mermaids see it is a 'mane.' Steve has a golden mane--something no one in your species has--hence, you think of it as a crown.

You were caged when you first saw him. That made you assume certain things when Steve walked up to the Raft's tank. Even in near darkness, his mane is bright. No other person you've encountered so far has that.

You're curious, frankly, but on-guard as always.

When humans are deprived of sleep, they can hallucinate, and mermaids are no different. You thought he was a complete figment of your imagination until Stark interacted with him, until Steve stepped into the water and put pressure across your heart and hips. The push of his hand, forcing your head against his chest, could have made you howl in relief.

All you wanted was to rest, but something in the back of your mind also told you not to scare him.

Stark, you don't mind scaring, Chuck is right where he belongs, excreted out into the industrial filters beyond the wall of your tank, but Steve? He must be protected.

He sees you. He listens to you.

You did not thing surfacers could do that. Not really. Not nicely. All humans want to do is control and take, use and abuse. However, you aren't afraid of them. You absolutely can kill any one of them that gets closer than you'd like. They're fragile.

But the way Steve grips you? Maybe he's not so fragile...

English is freaking hard. You learn quite a bit from Tony and then practice with Steve. You can feel his patience but love earning his admiration more. You find yourself wanting him to be proud of you and your progress.

You love making Steve laugh. It takes so long to figure out how to amuse him.

Numbers are a pain in the ass to learn because they have a concept, a symbol, and a written word. That's the point Tony halts teaching you to read alongside the verbal language. You threw a fit. He threw a fit. He left in a huff to cool off. You shrieked for Steve to come back for hours.

Eventually, when Tony returns, you threaten to eat him, and he calls it quits for the day.

Tony knew you favored Steve Rogers from day one. He planned to use that knowledge--and to some lesser extent, he did--but soon Tony simply realizes making you happy makes Steve happy...plus you cooperate and become an ambassador of sorts in your home realm.

You keep learning for Steve, not for Stark.

Mermen are, in your experience, domineering and uninspired. Their immense size differential to mermaids is useful to the brute-force model of society deep in the ocean, but they are boring. Your father is not stupid though. Almost none of them are stupid. Simple-minded remains the best translation you can manage.

Steve fascinates you. His attention to detail, his open nature, and his empathy are entirely new to you.

Mermen don't hide their baser instincts, so they freely ogle and flocked toward the most physiologically attractive mermaids. No interest in what's beneath the surface, ironically. Very shallow.

That's not to say bonds aren't possible. They absolutely are. Bonding with a partner is secondary at best, an afterthought most often, and unnecessary at worst.

Yet again, Steve wins you on every level--he has a sharp mind and acknowledges yours, he challenges your development without critique, and, lastly, he's quite attractive for how small and smooth he is.

"Should've seen me before," he once mumbled after you explained all that as well as your vocabulary would allow.

You don't know what he meant by that.

Because a certain level of indifference is common in couplings of your species, you were quite alarmed, embarrassed, and uncomfortable with how deep your affection for Steve became. You know how other humans react to you, and it doesn't build much confidence that one of them could feel this way about you.

During these long, repeated hugs with Steve, you realize that it's not just curiosity, or the novelty of his existence, or interest in learning from him: you feel about Steve how others feel about their mates.

Not gonna lie: that's terrifying. You don't actually know if Steve reciprocates. Sure, he explains human couples in great detail, and he shows you some of what he means, but all that could be...part of teaching you.

Until Steve discusses kissing, you convinced yourself he could not possibly harbor romantic affection for you.

It's lips against something, he says, that's all. His lips can press anywhere and boom! you've been kissed. He illustrates by kissing the back of your hand, kissing your cheek, kissing your forehead.

By now, your face is cradled in his hands. You can hear his heart racing as he sits on the steps in your pool and leans toward your body. His high-ocean eyes are shadowed as he looks down your face, captivated by--

"--your beautiful lips," he says, gently pressing his atop yours.

It's difficult to describe why something so simple hits so dramatically in your mind. The golden-maned man, almost the strongest of his species, amongst the softest of yours, kisses you like he needs to learn you, like he needs your existence, like he's curious.

There's a phrase you hum at the back of your throat once he releases you and sits up, a dusty rose painting his neck and cheeks.

"Swim beside me."

The better translation to English would be "I love you," but you haven't learned that yet.

Thank you for asking!

A/N: why am I crying?????

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[hurtspideyparker]

Tony Stark and PTSD

Tony didn't develop PTSD when he came back from Afghanistan because he knew he'd get out. He was able to save himself, use his intellect and resources to build the iron suit and escape. Yes he was tortured, and feared for his life, but he had an escape plan; Tony left the cave hopeful for the future, with extraordinary ideas and a revelation. For him, that was enough.

In the battle of New York Tony didn't have an escape plan. Even with his fancy Iron Man suit he was left alone in space to die- no amount of the money, brains or power he possesses would be enough to get him out of there.

It terrified him. To think that with everything he is, he wouldn't be enough to save his own life.

So while his thoughts in Afghanistan were that he would out-smart all these men because he's Tony freaking Stark, his thoughts in New York were that in the end he was helpless. That loss of control, the spark of real and imminent death, is what follows Tony home and gives him PTSD.

The idea that at any moment he could face something beyond the planet and anything he's ever known, that being the smartest and richest man on Earth just wouldn't be enough. Tony is mortal- even he can't cure that.

This is why we see him depend so heavily on the suits as a coping mechanism. He is all too aware of his own flesh and becomes obsessed with his armor; making it stronger, more plentiful, a cocoon. It is a part of him, and he's trying desperately to catch up to all things extraterrestrial he just learned about.

He puts sensors under his skin so the armor can always find him. When he's scared, even in his sleep, his instinct is to call the suit.

Which is why being forced away from it is so important for his recovery. He has to relearn that Iron Man isn't the suit, it's him. He'd be dead if he didn't program Jarvis smart enough to save his life without being told, like in IM3 when he's drowning and Jarvis pulls him out of the rubble by controlling the hand of the suit. Or when he fights the superpowered soldiers with just his wits and some kitchen appliances. Then finally marching into a heavily guarded facility with his Home Depot weapons.

It's not that he's beaten mortality, it's that he's broken from the need to constantly protect himself from it.

[rcmclachlan]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I was tagged by @screamlet, @liminalmemories21, and @cliophilyra! Thanks, y'all!

1. How many works do you have an AO3? 81, but I orphaned all my YOI fic a few years back (and regret it like crazy).

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 556,317

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently 911 (and whenever the mood strikes I pick away at a random Cardcaptor Sakura fic that I'll probably finish in 2029)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? + Long Live The King (DBZ) + Stopgap (Good Omens) + 100 Zeni (DBZ) + Named (Supernatural) + Pillow Talk (DBZ)

5. Do you respond to comments? I've gotten much better about this! I really do try to respond to every one I get these days, but I will admit that there have been a few fics where the comments ballooned out of control and I couldn't keep up. I promise you I've read every comment I get over and over and I appreciate them more than I can say!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Definitely Oneiroi, and 13 years later it's still one of my favorite endings.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Heritage Site, I think. It ends with resolving years-old misunderstandings and a marriage proposal.

8. Do you get hate on fics? I've been publishing fic since 2003 and since then I've gotten maybe two or three nasty comments, which is statistically negligible!

9. Do you write smut? Not as often as I'd like! Working on that.

10. Do you write crossovers? They're normally not my bag, but I've written one! Like old swords still are trusted best is my little DBZ/MCU crossover, because once I got the idea of Tony Stark and Bulma Briefs growing up together stuck in my head I couldn't get it out.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge, but I've had a fic summary stolen, which was kinda funny.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! Into Japanese, Chinese, Portuguese, and Russian

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No. I'm such a control freak when it comes to writing and I refuse to inflict that on someone.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Hadopelagia. It haunts me.

16. What are your writing strengths? Dialogue, and people keep telling me humor (I'll take y'all's word for it!).

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Starting a story. My WIPs folder is a wasteland littered with the bodies of a hundred thousand false starts.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I've done it once (with the help of a native speaker) and it really adds another level to the story. I love it when I come across non-English languages in stories; I wish it happened more often.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Technically it was Animorphs in 1997. I was 10 years old and it was a self-insert fic that I wrote on a legal pad at my Yiayia's house. The first fandom I published something for was Fruits Basket in 2003.

20. Favorite fics you've written? + A Twist of the Knife (MDZS/The Untamed) + The Thin Red Line (911) + Resonant Frequency (Beyond Evil) + Heritage Site (CCS)

No pressure tags: @dadvans, @alchemistc, @ripeteeth, @stitchyblogs, @firehose118, @newtkelly, @leashybebes, @epiphainie

[irondadfics]

Happy Halloween! 🎃

in honor of spooky day, here is a list of all the Halloween fics we’ve collected, plus, a couple of my own personal favs.

Trick or Treat (or Traumatize) by awesomesockes, whumphoarder

Peter is thrilled when he finally gets permission from Tony to throw a spooky celebration at the compound for the team. Unfortunately, wherever the Avengers are concerned, things never go quite to plan.  Or, in which Hulk destroys a mannequin factory, Tony gets sued by his boarding school childhood rival, and Peter accidentally chops off his own finger.  Happy Halloween!

Pumpkins & Stitches by Marvelous_Writer

In which Happy babysits Morgan and Peter while Pepper and Tony are out on date night. With Halloween only a week away, they decide to carve pumpkins... which probably wasn’t the best idea. Whumptober Day 22: Stitches

Who’s calling? by frostysunflowers

Just as he’s fantasizing about what kind of dessert he’ll make after eating some pizza, something smothered in chocolate sauce and sprinkles, Karen patches through another call from MJ which he accepts with a laugh already bubbling in his chest.  ''I’m almost done - '' ''Did you just call here?'' The abrupt tone jars him. ''What? No? Why do you - '' ''You swear?'' ''Yeah, yeah, I promise, what’s going on?'' or A wholesome Halloween night takes a rather sinister turn.

Of bright autumn days and things that go bump in the night (series) by frostysunflowers

Halloween/fall themed fics featuring plenty of fluff, feels and seasonal shenanigans!

The Prank by blondsak

“Kid, you couldn’t be scary if you tried.” A pause on the other end. “Is that a dare?” Tony rolled his eyes. “Tell you what, if you actually manage to scare me, I’ll get you and Ted movie premiere passes to that upcoming Star Wars film you keep going on about.” “No way! Um, okay, I gotta think… you just wait Mister Stark, I’m going to freak you out so bad!” “I’m shaking in my boots, Pete,” Tony replied with a smirk before hanging up.

Monster Mash by Marvelous_Writer

The Stark family gets invited to a Halloween party at the Compound, only Peter fails to mention that he’s sick.

To Infinity… and Beyond! by superhusbands4ever

Halloween in coming up and after watching a certain toy themed movie, Peter knows exactly what he wants to be. He's just going to need a little bit of help. Tony would like to submit this as proof that he will do anything for his son. Including dressing up as a toy cowboy.

Double, Double by YellowDistress

Peter had thought it was turning out to be a productive Halloween. Until he caught the 'Freddy and Jason' wannabes stealing a car.

Matchstick by chaoticlywise

For Halloween, Tony invites Peter to the Compound to spend some time with him and the other Avengers. However, it doesn’t go as planned when Happy, Peter and Tony get in a car crash in the middle of nowhere. Tony doesn’t think it can get worse until a rustling in the woods catches his attention.

13 nights of halloween by killerqueenwrites 

13 halloween prompts, from spooky to angsty to fluffy.

13 nights of halloween (series) by icymapletree

(a series of Halloween prompts)

the symbiote one by justjellyjackal

Peter Parker is finally living an almost normal life. Sure, memories of past villains abound, and present villains are on the horizon, but he’s fine for the most part. That is, until the most notorious symbiote of them all shows up, ready to take on and over the world, Peter at his side and in his control. It’s almost Halloween, but the scariest thing isn’t always the monsters outside, but the ones within.

Vein Drain by ciaconnaa

The next thing Peter registers is being on the ground. He can hear Michelle swearing but it sounds muffled. There’s a firm jostle to his shoulder before her cold hand is cupping his cheek. “Pete, wake up.” He blinks a few times and comes to in time to notice a nurse putting a pillow underneath his head. Michelle is hovering over him, slight worry pinching her features except for her mouth, which is stuffed with those fake vampire fangs. “I think you took too much blood, Miss Dracula,” Peter sighs, covering his arm over his eyes in shame. or; Peter Parker faints at Midtown's annual Halloween themed blood drive. Tony Stark gets called to pick him up.

Ned the Dumbwaiter by whumphoarder

Peter gets horribly sick on Halloween night and his very overwhelmed Guy In The Chair attempts to take care of him. But when both boys find themselves in over their heads, Tony takes over. (Alternative title: Spooky Pukey)

too sick for clowns by Hailfire_73

“Where do you think you’re going?” Peter’s shoulders dropped, and he turned to see Mr. Stark standing at the bottom of the staircase, wearing his pajamas with an Iron Man robe. His slippers were the Spider-Man ones Peter had gotten him last Christmas as a joke, but Peter was too sad and bitter about having a flu on the most magical night of the year to be happy he was wearing them.  “Just for a drive,” said Peter. “A drive?” questioned Mr. Stark. “It’s almost two in the morning.” “Mr. Starkkkk,” he said, also too sick to care about having to resort to whining. “I just wanna be spooky.”  “Whatever virus that’s working its way through your system is already spooky enough, kid.” OR Tony catches Peter trying to sneak out to go to a Halloween party when he has the flu and is supposed to be resting.  whumptober day 5: failed escape

An MIT Halloween by bethy_277

Peter is a college student at MIT and Tony brings Morgan up for some trick-or-treating.

monster mash by porcelaincarnival

It's Halloween and Peter has the perfect plan for a great night. It's a shame that the world doesn't work that way.

It’s the Great Pumpkin, Peter Parker by sentient_bees

The Starks take on treat-or-treating.

how things change by iron_spider

this is Part 15 of the I love you more than anything (bio dad au) series

May still feels like she’s in an alternate reality, sometimes. She looks at Tony and expects to see Richard, but then she remembers when she is, who’s here and who’s not. She has to admit to herself that she likes Tony, that he’s better than she thought he was, and she likes what he brings out in Ben. Ben never really seemed to mesh with Richard, but Tony, despite being multiple tax brackets above them, gets Ben talking like May used to see him do in high school. It’s nice to see. It’s really, really nice for him to have a friend. She trails behind them and takes pictures, and doesn’t let her mind wander. Instead, she just admires how Tony is out here in a monkey costume—one of the most famous men in the world, walking the streets in a monkey costume, purely because his son enjoys it.

Purple Peter Eater by sdottkrames

Comfortember prompt 1: rescue Halloween is interrupted by none other than Flash Thompson, and when he’s mean to her big brother, Morgan has something to say about it. After all, even superheroes need rescuing sometimes

You Broke Tony by whumphoarder

Peter stumbles into the tower one evening, clearly injured and in need of assistance. Cue a very agitated and sleep deprived Tony trying to make sense of what happened.

No Monsters Allowed by KatinaMoon

No. No. No. No. Tony's heart stops. That can't be- It isn't- There aren't supposed to be real monsters out on Halloween. No fucking ghouls in their carefully staked and selected cul-de-sac. Demons handing out candy to children. Vampires come back from the abyss to hurt his kid all over again. 

Sweet Victory by KatinaMoon

"What is it?" She squeaks, plowing into him and wrapping her arms around his legs. "A zombie?" "No, no," he assures quickly, straining to hear. There's the muted sound of what might be footfalls. "No zombies, remember? Your dad said so-" And, to be fair, it's not a zombie that steps through the tall corn grass in front of them. It's a goddamn killer clown.

One Sweet Trick by Winterturtle

“It’s either this or metal bikini.” Tony sighed, determined to preserve at least some of his dignity. “Why are we doing this again?” The puppy eyes were gone in an instant, replaced with a look of pure excitement. “Because we’re trying to reform you! To show the public that the villain Iron Man is gone and is instead replaced with… uh…,” Peter’s face scrunched, “anti-hero Iron Man? I don’t know. Hero doesn’t seem to be the right word to describe you.”  ~~~ Villainous prompt no. 17 "There is NO WAY I'm wearing this lame outfit-" "Wear it right now or I'll tell everyone how you tried to set me on fire."

Friendly Neighborhood Craft Project by whumphoarder

Through a convoluted series of events, ten-year-old Cassie Lang is in New York and missing a costume on Halloween. Peter, his aunt, and his long suffering mentor all come to her rescue, hot glue guns a-blazing.

[renova-writes]

lost in the pages. part 1

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 1,350

warnings: none

a/n: I haven't written in forever so please forgive me. I'm trying to get back into it and I started this fit a while ago so I figured I'd finally post the first few chapters of it! I hope you like it!

masterlist

You had your nose fully engrossed in your book, ignoring the lunch you had set out to eat on the table next to you. You had been itching to read your latest story- a crime thriller- all morning, making the minutes agonizing, and once you finally took your lunch break the book was the first thing you thought about. 

Just as the story started to pick up, your coworker David ran into the break room. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, Betty needs you up at the front. Some guy showed up all serious and she had to take a meeting with him.” 

“What about you? I’m on lunch right now. Why can’t you get the front desk?”

“I got story time in five minutes. Unless you want to read ‘Cat In The Hat’?”

“No, thanks. I’ll take the front.” Children stressed you out, the way they could never sit still and pay attention. You were grateful for David and his endless patience.

The library you worked at in downtown Manhattan saw a fair amount of traffic. Unfortunately, everyone always seemed to come in right after you took your lunch break. There was a decent amount of books for one of New York’s oldest private libraries and only three full time employees. Betty, the head librarian, was about sixty years old and a kind old soul. She had been a librarian at this branch her entire life and defended her books with such ferocity that she had been given the nickname ‘the book witch’ by the snot-nosed little kids that mixed up the shelving in the children’s section and ‘old hag’ by the meaner ones . You swore that you saw her hit a teenager over the head with a book when he and his friends were eating in the library. David was an oddball. He was technically in charge of the technology, but the branch had only a handful of computers and, for the most part, relied on paper records to keep track of its books. In the two years you had been working with David, you never once saw him read a book unless he had to. He was a character, to say the least. 

You had been working at the library for the past two and a half years. Growing up you loved to read and went to college at NYU, studying Classic Literature before graduating a year early and deciding to get your degree in Master’s in Library and Information Science and become a librarian. You found your job to be incredibly rewarding but also very stressful. You liked helping people find new books and seeing them get excited about books. However, you were constantly hounded by mounds of paperwork and phone calls and constant organization. During your first week, you had made the mistake of re-organizing the disheveled back room and had apparently done such a good job that Betty decided to put you in charge of all things ‘organized’ and gave you control of the library’s extensive records. You assumed that you had managed it fairly well. Housing thousands of books and newspaper records whilst still using the Dewey Decimal system, it had been a nightmare to digitize everything. The project had occupied a few months of your time but at the end of it, nobody complained and all files were straightforward and easy to find. It was all smooth sailing. 

While sitting at the front desk that afternoon you longed for the book that you were forced to abandon in the break room. Your felt stomach start to complain about the ignored lunch and you were about to go back to grab your sandwich during a rare dead-period when Betty walked over with someone.

 The man next to Betty had messy dark brown hair and a neatly shaped goatee. He wore an old Black Sabbath t-shirt and shaded sunglasses and walked with such confidence and swagger that he was easily recognizable. Tony freaking Stark. 

‘What the hell is he doing here?’ you wondered to yourself. 

“Ah, Mr. Stark, this is who I was talking about. She’s the best librarian and archivist I have ever worked with.” Betty smiled through her rectangle glasses. 

“Thank you,” you beamed, slightly flustered by the compliment, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark.”

“The pleasure’s all mine. All my prayers have been answered. You are really going to save my ass.” 

Though you had heard that Stark had a unique and slightly confusing way of talking, you were not expecting this. How could you help him? He was a genius. “How exactly am I going to do that, Mr. Stark.”

“Call me Tony. I have a slight problem that I could use your help with.” He began, “Back when we were just starting out a few years ago, after the New York alien invasion disaster, we were supposed to log everything and do debriefs and paperwork and all that stuff but we didn’t exactly know what to do with all of it so it kind of all just got piled up in filing cabinets and boxes. That wasn’t that big of a problem but now we’re supposed to share our records with the UN and they’re a disaster. None of us have any idea how to do it- not that we have time to- so that’s where you come in.” 

“So you want me to organize it all for you?” 

“All of it, by March 26th.” Your eyes widened. That was only three weeks away. Who knows how bad it was? Still, it was Tony Stark and he would probably be willing to pay pretty well. 

“Just as long as Betty and David will be able to manage without me-” you began, but Betty interrupted your only excuse. 

“We’ll be fine, dear.” She smiled, and you could tell that she was trying to encourage you to take the job. The library would survive despite the massive increase in work that she and David would have to endure. 

You looked from her to Stark, who was leaning against the desk and smiling also, then back to Betty. You felt bad about leaving Betty and the library but the opportunity to work with Stark was too alluring. “Okay, okay. I’m in.”

“Okay great! That was easier than I thought it would be.” Tony said, clapping his hands and standing up straight. “I’ll see you at 9 tomorrow, Happy will give you more info, here’s my card,” his mouth was moving faster than you expected and words were being thrown out that you didn’t understand. Who was Happy? Did he want to meet you at the Avenger’s Tower? Before you had even realized what you just got yourself into, Tony Stark was out the door.

You breathed out, muttering a curse word that you hoped Betty didn’t hear. You stood up from the desk and she walked over to you. Clasping her hands around yours she smiled again, “Congratulations, I am so proud of you, dear.” 

“No fucking way, Tony Stark wants you to come organize the Avenger’s records!?” David asked for the millionth time while the two of you were sorting the book returns. 

“I swear to god, David, it was him.” You were starting to get annoyed. David seemed more excited about your job than you were. “I have no idea how bad it is. I only have three weeks to get everything in order.”

“Oh, shit, you might be screwed then. How long did it take for you to get this branch in order?”

“Two, three months. But I also had other stuff to do, it wasn’t like my main job.” 

“You’re gonna be fine. You’re smart and capable and it can’t be that bad. Plus just remember how much he’s probably gonna pay you.” 

“Yeah,” you began but a buzz in your pocket distracted you. You pulled it out to find a text from an unknown number “Hey, I bet this is him with the info, I’ll be right back.” 

This is Happy. 

Avengers tower, 9 o’clock, front entrance. 

Don’t be late. I will meet you in the lobby. 

[websterss]

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! MASTERLIST | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

It had been the middle of the night. Peter didn’t know how long he had been running for. The eerie trees caused his heart to increase in beats. The more he ran forward, the more he began to realize that he was going deeper into the woods. Sweat ran down his forehead all the way to his neck.

Peter knew the reasons why he was running. He couldn’t stay in that orphanage any longer, the scratchy sheets and hard matted beds. The rude staff, and the scary mistress who runs the place. He could no longer bear it. No longer could he tolerate being called a freak. The mistress locked him in the basement. She noticed how he scratched up the floorboards last time, which resulted in him not getting to eat supper. It was madness there. Which is why he ran, he ran with no actual idea where he was going.

Peter stopped short as he ran out of breath. He held himself up with a tree for support. He could slowly feel it again. The effect of the moon shining down on him. He couldn’t control himself when the change happened. It began when he was around five. He was hard enough to control his shift as it was. His mom and dad were always there to help him when he was scared. Ever since the house fire, he’s had a hard time. There weren’t any parents to reassure him anymore. “No, no, no. Please, please, not again.” He pleaded as he groaned in pain. The more he resisted the more it hurt. “Ahhh.” He greeted his teeth as he hunched over.

If anyone were to pass by they would see a little boy in pain, not the thing he was about to turn into.

“Ahhh.” He growled as he arched back and looked up to the moon. His eyes now a golden amber. He then took off again.

-

Tony Stark was a man of many things. A genius if some would. A fearless leader to some. An alpha. His way of reasoning to become an alpha was not something he liked to talk about. You become one from being true, or you end up taking it from the one who was before. Tony could have taken his power, but he refused to go down the same path his own father did. In the end, his power was all-natural.

“How long do you think they’ll be fine?” Tony sat in his back porch hands behind his head. His backyard leading towards the woods where his pack was out wandering the night.

As he said that four howls could be heard. Tony let out an exaggerated sigh. “Gosh, I have to do everything around here.” He got up from his chair and leaned over to Pepper. “Be back for dinner hun, gotta go show these youngsters whose alpha.” He joked. With that, he took off in a sprint.

“Be careful!” He heard over his shoulder.

He went deeper into the woods turning and avoiding stumps and logs like the back of his hand. He slowed his pace when he smelt his pack near. Curiosity definitely got the better of him when he noticed some of his members trying to contain someone in their hold. Harley, one of his newer additions came up to him in a hurry.

“Tony you have to come quick!” He began tugging him by his sleeve.

Various voices of his pack calling out different things at once.

“Tony.”

“Thank god!”

“You have to see this.”

“He’s out of control man!”

“Where’d he even come from?”

“Tony!”

“He’s a beta!” Harley smiled excitedly.

“Everyone quiet!” He spoke out in an authoritative voice.

He made his way to the front of this circle and was surprised to see that it was only a child. A very frightened one.

“Head back home everyone, Harley stay with me.” No one wasted a second to leave the three of them.

Once Tony was sure they were all gone he turned back to the boy who was still shifted. His eyes a bright blood red. Peter’s heart picked up. He was an alpha. 

“I-I can’t…control it.” He groaned out.

“That’s okay. It’s okay.” Tony spoke softly. “What’s your name kid?” 

“P-Peter. Parker.” Peter tried to even out his breathing but it was no use. 

“Tony Stark…you’ve always had a hard time controlling your shift?” Peter nodded yes. “Mom and dad never teach you?”

“They died.” Peter closed his eyes tightly shut. He curled his claws into his palm.

Tony noticed this and reached a hand out to stop him. He uncurled the boy’s hand and noticed the indented prints on his palm.

“Does it always work?”

“S-Sometimes. P-Pain reminds me I’m still me.” 

“Ever try a mantra?”

“Mantra?” Peter kept his eyes shut.

“Like a saying. Wanna try one, it might help.” Peter hesitated then immediately nodded his head.

“Okay repeat after me…The sun, the moon, the truth.” 

“The sun, the moon, the truth….” 

“Good again.” Tony smiled gently.

“The sun, the moon, the truth….”

“Again.”

“The sun, the moon, the truth….”

“One more time…”

“The sun, the moon, the truth….” Slowly one by one Peter’s claws, fangs, ears, and eyes began to retract, and turn back to normal. “The sun, the moon...” Peter’s breath evened out and he slowly opened his eyes to reveal his coffee brown ones.

“There he is!” Tony nodded proudly of him.

“What does that mantra mean?”

“I don’t know. A friend let me borrow it. The mantra is supposed to help calm down. The sun, the moon and the truth, represent the three things that cannot long be hidden. It’s a good calming exercise so you don’t lash out…and from the looks of it, it worked!”

“Trust me it works.” Harley reassures him.

Peter nodded and looked from Harley to the man in front of him.

“Why were you in the woods? Were you running?”

“Yeah.” Peter looked down at his lap.

“You got a pack kid? Anything on you perhaps?” 

“N-No I don’t even have a birth certificate. Everything I had was destroyed in the house fire.” Peter looks at his lap.

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that much longer kid.” Tony stands up with Harley.

“Oh lordy, where are my manners? Kid, Harley.” He bops Harley on the head. “Harley meet Peter Parker.”

“Hi.” Peter accepts Harley’s hand. Peter begins to dust off the dirt and ground off his shorts and tank top.

“Hey.”

“Looks like you’re in need of an upgrade. Nothing a little shopping can’t fix.” Tony shrugs it off like it’s nothing. Peter looks up amazed. “How about a new set of clothes? Shoes, hats. You like hats, kid? Harley has like five.”

“T-Thank you.” Peter whispers.

Tony can see that the poor kid is about to cry.

“Don’t mention it. Come on kids, it’s getting late, two young betas don’t need to be out this late in the woods. You don’t know what’s out there.” Tony put his arms around the two boys and ushered them in front of him.

Peter felt this ease inside of him. A new feeling of comfort, security, and safety. Maybe things would turn out to be better. The three walked in silence until Harley turned his head to look at him.

“You like Star Wars?”

[therealdisneyfan2319]

The Spider and The Witch Chapter 1: The Experiment and The Flu

Summary: Peter Parker and Y/N L/N are junior biochem majors at Empire State College.  Peter needs a volunteer for his research project, and a series of events leads Y/N to come down with the flu...or does he?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Language, blood, needles, description of medical procedures

Word Count: 3.6K

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“I don’t know how I managed to let you talk me into going to the lab with you this early.”  You stretched your arms out as you yawned, keeping your arm just so to keep your coffee upright.

“Dude.  It’s 10 am,” Peter chuckled.

“These good looks don’t just happen, man.  I need a full nine hours.”

“Maybe if you went to bed before 3 am-” “Now wait a minute.  You’re lecturing me about going to bed early when you used to pull all-nighters slinging webs around Queens?”

“Shut up!” He swatted your arm before you had the chance to pull away.  “At least I was doing something productive with my life, not playing Pokemon-” “Completing the Pokedex is extremely productive.  Now it might not be the same kind of productive as extracting the Spidey mutation from your genome sequence, but categorizing all the Pokemon from the Galar region is an important, time-consuming task.”

Peter rolled his eyes as he rolled down the sidewalk next to you.  You chuckled, taking a sip of your coffee as you shook your head.  This sort of banter was typical of your friendship.  Peter was one of your closest friends and easy to joke with, but you also worked well together.  It didn’t hurt that you were both biochem majors and had the same sort of scientific mind.  Since you met in world civ last fall the two of you had been as thick as thieves.  It didn’t matter that he was three years older than you, a grade above you, or that he used to be Spider-Man.  Finding out that the guy in the Stark tech wheelchair who loved Led Zeppelin and Star Wars was once the friendly neighborhood superhero was not what you expected when you went over to his dorm to hang out for the first time.  Peter was used to people freaking out when they found out and was thrilled when you shrugged it off.  

“So what exactly are we doing today?” you asked.  You had volunteered to help him out with a research project he was working on.  He hadn’t told you much about it, only that it was being funded by Tony Stark and dealt with genome sequencing. 

“Nothing too crazy.  I need to take samples of your blood.  I’ll use those as test subjects against my blood.  That’ll be the control sample.”  He punched in a sequence on the keypad on the arm of his chair.  Tank tracks dropped down from the bottom of the seat as the chair began to climb the stairs to the science building.  

“You know how to take blood?” you asked, holding the door open for him as he wheeled into the building.

“Yeah, well…yeah.  I mean Sam taught me how to start an IV and drawing blood is the same principle, right?  You gotta find the vein.”

“Oh my god I’m gonna die,” you mumbled as you turned down the hall toward the lab Peter worked out of.  It was one of the newest labs on campus.  Tony Stark had donated a sizable amount of money toward the Empire State College science and research division with the provision that all the money go toward funding better facilities for students.  The new building had just opened at the beginning of the semester.  Peter was more than excited to have a space stocked with the latest Stark technology to work on his newest endeavor.  It was more convenient than trying to head upstate to the Avengers Compound a few times a week.

“I won’t let you bleed out on me, man.  Worst comes to worst we’ll just throw some webs on it and send you to New York Pres.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better about all of this?  Because it’s totally not.”  You hated needles.  You hated doctors.  The thought of someone who was decidedly NOT a medical professional fishing around your elbow for a vein made your stomach flip flop.  Maybe a large coffee wasn’t the best idea for breakfast…

The bright fluorescent lights in the lab snapped on as you opened the door.  They seemed unnecessary as sunlight flooded the windows that took up the entirety of the easternmost wall.  The overhead haze added to the sterile feel of the room: the latest in Stark Technology, ranging from microscopes and test tubes to autoclaves and fabricators, shone brightly against the lights.  It was nerd heaven, stuffed to the brim with everything anyone could ever need for any experiment they could dream of.  You threw your backpack on a lab table adjacent to where Peter was setting up his laptop.  Once you were done helping him out, you figured you’d swing by the library to start cracking on the paper for your art history course.

“So I already took my own samples earlier this week,” he explained. “I’m storing them in the fridge over there.  Mind grabbing them for me?” He motioned with his head to the mini fridge that sat next to the sink.  You walked over to the fridge, seeing a rack of blood vials sitting on the bottom shelf amongst the Petri dishes of spores and sole can of Coke.  “Don’t drop it,” he cautioned as grabbed a ziploc baggie of medical supplies out of his bag.

“Whoop.”  You fake tripped, stumbling around and swinging the tray to and fro aimlessly.  He shot you a somewhat serious glare.  You returned a toothy grin.  

“Dude if you drop that-”

“Relax, Pete.  I’ve got steady hands.”  You placed the tray on the table in front of him with the grace of a swan.  “See?” You raised your hands up defensively.  “Steady hands.  I should be a goddamn surgeon.”

“Ah yes, Dr. Y/N L/N, the surgeon who hates blood.”  He dumped the contents onto the table.  Out fell some rubber gloves, a rubber tourniquet, needles, tubes, alcohol wipes, and cotton balls.  You gulped at the sight of the paraphernalia.  “So why don’t you just sit there and roll up your sleeve so we can do this.”

“Are you sure you can’t just, like, prick my finger?”  Plopping onto the stool you rolled up the sleeve of flannel.  

“Do you want to sit here and fill up these tubes one drop at a time?” Peter asked from the sink.  The tray of tubes, empty ones and ones full of his blood, sat next to him as he washed his hands.

“Good point,” you muttered.  It felt like you were chewing on the flannel from your shirt.

“Just relax, I did it on myself the other day and I turned out just fine.”  There was a slight waver in your friend’s voice as he spoke.  Try as he might to hide it, Peter was nervous, too.  He snapped on the baby blue gloves.  You turned your head away, refusing to look until he was done.  “Can you just make a fist for-good okay, yup, I see the vein.”  The sudden coolness of the alcohol against your skin made you shiver, but you refused to look.  Even as you felt the slight prick of the needle against your skin you kept your eyes firmly shut.  “Told you I wouldn’t let you bleed out,” he chuckled, replacing the now full vial with an empty one.

“How many vials do you need?”  You strained your neck as you tried to look as far away as you could from the scene unfolding in front of you.

“I don’t know, I did six of my own.  That should be enough,” Peter shrugged.  

Six vials of blood?  Why did you even decide to do this in the first place?  You could’ve been back in your dorm in the comfort of your bed, sleeping the morning away, instead of having your blood forcibly removed from your body.  Peter definitely owed you big time.  

He removed the tube from your arm, handing you a cotton ball to stop the bleeding.  “That should be it.  Mind putting those back in the fridge for me?”  

The second your feet hit the floor your knees wobbled.  It was probably psychosomatic, but the sight of all your blood sitting inches outside where it should be made you the slightest bit queasy.  “Yeah, no problem.”  You shook your head quickly.  There was no way you were going to let yourself puke or, even worse, drop the vials and have to do it all over again.  

It took all your effort not to look down at the plastic tray in your hands.  You concentrated all your effort on staring down the refrigerator.  That ultimately meant neglecting your untied shoelace.  Before you realized what was happening you found yourself tripping over your feet.  While you managed to not lose your balance completely, the sudden jolt sent two of the vials crashing to the floor.

“Shit,” you mumbled as you set the tray on the floor.  There were shards of glass and blood splattered across the marble tile.  You quickly glanced over your shoulder, hoping Peter hadn’t seen your mistake.  Much to your relief he was engrossed in his notebook.  That bought you some time to quickly clean up the mess.  You looked around for a roll of paper towels, spotting the roll next to the sink and tearing off a few sheets.  The crimson puddles looked like they’d be easy enough to clean up.  Not thinking too much about it, you knelt down and started blotting at the spill.  A sudden stab caused you to recoil from the ground in pain.  As you examined your hand, you noticed a small scratch on the pad of your thumb.  

“You good?” Peter’s voice broke you away from staring at your hand.

“Yeah.  Dropped one of the vials and cut myself.  I’m good.”

“Was it one of mine or yours?”

“Uhh, mine.”  Truth be told you had no idea if it was yours or his.  There was no way to know which vial was which.  Peter knew.  He probably had it marked down in his laptop or something.  But you remembered that his vials were facing you when you pulled them out of the fridge.  That meant yours were away from you and there was an empty spot there.  Yeah, it’s mine.  “You need me for anything else?”

“Nah, you’re good,” Peter focused intensely on his laptop, typing away as you finished cleaning up your mess and putting the samples away.  “Are we still on for dinner tonight?  Ned’s dying to try out that new Thai place on Watts Street.”

“Yeah, shoot me a text.  I’m headed to the library for a bit.”  You slung your backpack over your shoulder as you headed for the door.  “See you.”

“Thanks again, Y/N.”

******

You spent the rest of the day in the library researching and typing and revising your paper.  The minutes ticked by as you lost yourself in the endless barrage of Western paintings you thought looked all too similar.  Yet as the day passed you found yourself feeling strange.  At first you thought you had been studying too long.  The words on your laptop screen seemed fuzzy and you found yourself re-reading the same paragraph on Donatello about a dozen times before anything seemed to click.  Then the library seemed to drop ten degrees before abruptly shooting up another twenty.  Sweat on the back of your neck ran down your shirt and chilled you as fast as it cooled you off.  The lights were suddenly too bright and even the silence was too loud.  

Shit, you thought to yourself as your felt heat radiating off your forehead.  It was probably the flu.  It had been making the rounds through campus for the better part of a month, so you weren’t completely surprised.  Closing your laptop and shoving your books in your bag, you texted Peter as you left the library:

Got the flu.  You and Ned go without me.  I’m gonna go to bed.

The walk back to your apartment wasn’t long, but it was a near-impossible task in your ever-worsening condition.  Every step felt like you were trudging through molasses.  Your legs were as heavy as cement and you prayed you wouldn’t trip because you weren’t sure you’d be able to get up again.  Tears clouded your vision.  Rubbing your eyes didn’t help.  The only thing on your mind was downing half a bottle of Nyquil and passing out as soon as you got back to your room.  

Much to your relief you walked into an empty apartment.  Peter and Ned must’ve already left for dinner.  You kicked your shoes off and dropped your bag at the front door.  There was no doubt in your mind that this was the flu: you felt like absolute garbage as you shuffled to your bedroom.  As you flopped on the bed, clothes and all, your body felt like it was made of lead.  Bone-crushing fatigue consumed you as you shivered on top of your bedspread.  You prayed that you’d be able to get a little bit of sleep to help dull the pain.

When you woke the following morning, you were surprised to find that you didn’t feel sick at all.  In fact, you felt better than you had in a long time.  There wasn’t any evidence that you felt so poorly only a few hours ago.  You swung your legs around to the side of the bed and stared at the floor as you thought about what you were going to do all day, but when you tried to stand up something was off.  As you stretched your arms above your head, you felt something engulf you: it was your blanket.  It was stuck to your hands.  

Did I spill Nyquil on my hands? you wondered as you tugged at the fuzzy fabric.  No, I didn’t take any Nyquil last night.

It took a considerable amount of effort to tear just one of your hands away only for it to stick on the wall as you balanced against it for support.  Paint flaked away as you ripped your hand away.  At that point you weren’t sure if you were still asleep or not.  Squeezing your eyes shut, you reopened them to find flakes of drywall still attached to your fingers.  What the hell?  You shook your hands, trying to free yourself of the debris, but as you flicked your wrist downward, you heard a loud thwack.  The sticky white residue covered Marty McFly’s face on the Back to the Future poster that hung next to your bed.  That same white residue balled up on the inside of your wrist.  When you tried to pull it off, a long spindly web came with it.

Oh fuck.

The implications of what just happened were huge to say the least.  The vial you broke yesterday wasn’t yours: it was Peter’s.  His blood contaminated yours when you cut yourself and now you had…spidey powers?  It couldn’t be.  This all had to be some sort of nightmare.  You were just a normal guy trying to make it through college relatively unscathed.  Sure, your roommate was an Avenger and that was a little weird, but other than that your experience was pretty normal.  You had no interest in having superpowers or saving the world whatsoever.  

“Everything okay in there, man?” Peter asked as he rapped on your door.  It momentarily snapped you out of your panic.

“Uhh yeah, yeah.  I’m good,” you hollered through the door, still looking at the web in your hand.  

“You sure?”

“Yeah.  I’m okay.  Just, uhh, knocked my blankets off the bed.”  You wiped the web up with a tissue, praying that it wouldn’t stick to your hand, too.  It didn’t, much to your relief.  

“How are you feeling?” he called as you started taking off your clothes from the day before.  A long shower would help you figure out what your next move was.  

“Good.  Great actually.  I feel fine,” you responded, throwing your dirty t-shirt on the ground.  “How was dinner?” “It totally sucked, man.  You didn’t miss much,” Ned’s voice was faint as he yelled from the kitchen.  

“Bummer.  I told you that you should’ve done Indian instead.”

“Well hey if you’re feeling better why don’t we go for lunch?” Your stomach grumbled at the thought, but images of getting stuck to the subway pole loomed in your mind.  “Yeah, sure,” you responded absentmindedly while kicking your pants off and grabbing a clean pair of sweats off your bed.  

Wearing nothing but your boxers, you opened the door fully intending to go straight to the bathroom.  The second Peter and Ned saw you their jaws dropped.

“Dude!” Peter exclaimed. 

“Wha-?”  

“Woah!  Y/N, when did you get ripped?” Ned asked.  You were thoroughly confused.  None of your hobbies included going to the gym or working out.  What were they talking about?  The lights came on in the bathroom and as your eyes adjusted to the brightness you were shocked.  It was like someone took a  chisel to your body overnight.  There were muscles in places you didn't know there could be muscles.  The reflection in the mirror showed you defined pecs, swollen biceps, and the faintest outline of a six pack.

“What the hell?” you mumbled in disbelief.  Your fingers traced over your chest, taking in the new body you’d inadvertently fallen into.  It was a surreal experience seeing an unfamiliar body in the mirror.  It was almost like you were watching someone else live your life while you watched from outside yourself.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Y/N?” Peter asked as he wheeled himself in front of the bathroom door.

“Yeah.  I’ve just got spidey powers now.”  It didn’t even feel like you were the one saying those words.  Haze clouded your periphery, forcing you to focus on the newness of your body.  It was an out-of-body experience in every way.  There was no way to really process the profundity of the situation.  

“You WHAT?”

Time stopped.  Everything stopped.  Peter’s face contorted with dozens of emotions in the blink of an eye.  Glass shattered on the kitchen floor as Ned’s glass slipped out of his hand.  

“Umm, yeah I guess.  I’m starting to think that was your blood that I cleaned up yesterday.”  You half expected Peter to be furious at the truth, but the beaming grin on his face told you otherwise.

“It worked!  Holy shit it WORKED!”  He spun his chair around excitedly, whooping all the while.  “Mr. Stark, oh man, he’s gonna be so excited!  He’ll want to meet you.  Man, now he doesn’t even need to look for someone to be the next Spider-Man because…oh this is great, I can teach you everything!  That way you’ll be WAY ahead of where he thinks you should be and he’ll let you onto the team fas-”

“The next Spider-Man?”

“I mean yeah, Mr. Stark will definitely want to talk to you about it,” Peter replied.

“Dude, I’d kill to be Spider-Man!” Ned added, sweeping up what remained of his glass.

“No way, absolutely not,” you groused as you stormed out of the bathroom.  “No offense, Pete, but I don’t want to be an Avenger.”

“You don’t have to make a decision now.  I don’t even know if he’ll ask.  I mean he probably will but that doesn’t mean anything.  He might just want you to come in to do, like, more testing or something.”  Peter gingerly walked back his excitement.  The prospect of training the next Spider-Man brought a sense of optimism back into his life that had long been forgotten.  Losing his identity as the local neighborhood web slinger stripped away a core part of his identity: Peter Parker and Spider-Man were one in the same.  Sure, he still used his powers and webs when he could, but it wasn’t the same.  Tony had offered to make him an exosuit after the accident, but he knew that he couldn’t do it anymore.  One close brush with death was more than enough for him.

“Look,” you sighed, “I’m not you.  I don’t want to go out and swing through Manhattan and stop burglars or fight weird lizard things.  I just want to be a normal guy doing normal guy things with my normal guy friends if I can even call the two of you normal.”  Peter chuckled half-heartedly.

“Wait, can you stick to the ceiling?” Ned suddenly asked.  You sighed again, shaking your head as you extended your arm up and jumped: you stuck.  “Woah!  That’s sweet!”

“Yeah, it is kinda cool I guess,” you chuckled as you watched your fingertips completely suspend your dead weight from the ceiling.  Getting used to your new body was a curious sensation.  Everything felt sharper.  Colors were brighter and bolder.  You saw incredibly small movements even from the corners of your eye.  Your body felt stronger and faster and more agile.  It was strange, spending your entire life as a regular human being and then waking up one day twenty years later with these weird spidery feelings tingling inside you.  

“Do you want one of my web shooters?” Peter asked as you dropped down.

“Web shooters?”

“Yeah,” Peter replied questioningly as he raised an eyebrow.  “You don’t think I can actually make webs, do you?”

You responded by mimicking the hand gesture Peter frequently showed you, flicking your wrist downward as a raveled strand of webs flew out of your wrist.  Peter ducked his head out of the way in the knick of time while Ned’s jaw dropped in amazement.  

“Didn’t see that coming, did you?”