#and tony just decides ‘fuck it’ and holds his kid or whatever and the first thing to come out of he mouth is

[yourbustedkneecaps]

“petey-pie” is great an all for a nickname but y’all i can’t stop thinking about “sweet pea/(sweet pete)” instead. Tony calls Rhodey “honeybear” so why not go with the obvious parallel for Peter?

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

The Truth Revealed

Pairing: Platonic! Peter Parker & Reader; Reader x Bucky (but that's not really plot relevant)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: nun too bad, Bucky finds out the truth and kinda blows up but it all works out yk lol

Genre: kinda angst kinda fluff

Summary: You happen to be the only person who still remembers Peter Parker exists and you are not about to hang him out to dry. So what happens when you take Peter in and basically become his guardian? Well- nothing is simple where super-teens are involved, but you and Peter can certainly handle whatever comes your way. Right?

***

Peter comes barreling down the hall yanking his mask over his head as he rambles quicker than you can warn him.

"I'm sorry I'm late, I know I missed dinner, but man you would not believe the night I've had?! And of course most of it won't be reported because they're not like world ending, Avenger level threats just a bunch of losers bullying my neighborhoods? It's like they all decided to commit crime tonight or som-" he stops suddenly when he finally sees Bucky sitting next to you on the couch. "Mr. Bucky- I- didn't know you'd be here tonight. Hi." Peter says awkwardly. You take in Bucky's changing expression and then look back at Peter.

"Peter your dinner's on the counter." You say, clearing your throat.

"Right yeah thanks." Peter pivots into the kitchen.

"What the fuck?" Bucky turns to you.

"Take a breath." You warn.

"I'm breathing- but what the fuck?"

"I know this is a shock but there's no need to make it a big deal."

"Oh this is a huge deal, Peter when you're done heating up your food come have a seat." Bucky calls into the kitchen and you cringe to yourself.

"Peter when you're done heating up your food take it into your bedroom." You call and Bucky's head snaps towards you again.

"Are you serious?" Bucky blinks at you and for the first time ever it feels like you're on different sides of the fence, but you have to handle this in whatever way is best for Peter and right now that means putting yourself between him and Bucky.

"You and I will talk about this first because we are the adults and then if you still want to speak to Peter after, he can join us." You say calmly.

"He needs to be part of this discussion." Bucky says.

"No he needs to eat dinner and you very clearly need a moment before addressing him." You stand firm. You know if he talks to Peter first he'll go red in the face yelling at him and Peter doesn't deserve that, you don't even know if he'll be able to handle that reaction. Bucky blows out an angry breath through his nose and fixes you with a look that would probably make anyone else wither away but you hold his gaze unwavering until Peter shuffles down the hall with his dinner.

"How long have you known?" Bucky asks you once Peter's room door is closed.

"Technically speaking, since 2017." You say.

"Excuse you?" Bucky frowns.

"It actually caused one of the worst arguments I ever had with Tony, for involving him in that Sokovia Accords fight at the airport when the kid was like 15." You scoff.

"Sokov- so you're not his godmother and you didn't know his aunt?"

"I'm not his godmother technically no, he doesn't have one. Or I guess his aunt would've been his godmother? Sorry not the point- when Tony died I kind of took over as his 'Avenger adult' since Tony was sort of mentoring him, granted we butted heads on Tony's methods a lot before that so I guess it started before Tony died. I did know his aunt though, we became friends once I learned Peter was Spider-Man." You say.

"So were ever going to tell me that or was I just going to be left in the dark forever like a fool?" Bucky asks.

"Bucky you are not a fool, first of all. It's not like I kept it from you maliciously, it's just that this wasn't my secret to tell you. It was Peter's decision to make and I support whatever choices he would've made regarding who knows and who doesn't." You explain.

"But we are supposed to be a team."

"We are a team."

"You lied to me. Malicious or not, you hid this pertty big thing from me." He frowns.

"Bucky-"

"You told me you were taking in a friend's kid after she died." He cuts you off.

"Which is true." You say.

"You didn't tell me that kid was an Avenger. One of us."

"Well it's not like you were rushing to tell him your secrets either." You point out.

"That's different he's a kid we're responsible for, this is something I should know."

"When I first brought Peter here you explicitly said you wanted nothing to do with that responsibility. Even just being friendly with him was something you dreaded the very idea of. I respected that wish. You've started developing a relationship with him and that's great but excepting me to betray his trust because you suddenly want to be involved is unrealistic you have to see that." You sigh.

"What if he decided never to tell me?" Bucky crosses his arms.

"Well then he doesn't have to!"

"Seriously? That would've been okay with you?"

"Yes. Peter has made sacrifices that no child should have to make and I will not let you make him feel guilty because of them. You can be mad all you want, I understand it hurts to find out you were left out of something and that's valid but you're not about to yell at Peter, you're not even going to speak to Peter until you stop pointing fingers for something you have no idea about." You grit out.

"Explain it to me. How do you justify that you've kept this from me for years now?"

"You didn't want anything to do with Peter 3 months ago. Why would I go telling his secrets to someone who specifically said to leave them out of it?"

"But that's clearly changed." He rolls his eyes.

"And it's still Peter's secret. You know better than anyone, trust is earned. I can't decide for Peter when that risk is worth taking. He has to decide for himself that he's ready for you to know and maybe that day was never going to come. Yes we're taking care of him but he's not a child James. Spider-Man is his and it's already ruined his life once."

"Spider-Man ruined his life?" Bucky scoffs.

"After Tony died I- wasn't around as much as I maybe should've been for him, Peter ended up getting caught up with some guy who offered him guidance where he had none, but he turned out to be a super villain and tried to convince the world that Spider-Man, that Peter was dangerous, evil even. It spilled into his normal life because that guy revealed to the entire planet that Peter was Spider-Man, it affected his friends, his family, there were protests outside his school. He couldn't deal, he went to Strange, asked him to fix it, make the world forget he was Spider-Man but that went horribly wrong, got so outta hand, universes started colliding with each other, and Peter was facing villains he should have never even known about. Almost lost his friends, did lose his aunt, and the only solution Strange had was to make everyone across all universes forget Peter Parker ever existed. He went from mourning Tony, to mourning every relationship he's ever had. Either through death or the earasure of his existence from their memories. So excuse me if I'm not keen on forcing him to tell anyone, including you, a damn thing. Last time didn't go so great." You say.

"Oh-"

"He has been fighting adult battles, making grown up decisions, since he was 15. Being a hero robbed him of so much and I am doing everything in my power to give him something back. You will not make him feel bad for not sharing something that has caused him so much pain." It takes a lot to control the emotion threatening to make your voice shake as you speak.

"I didn't realize." Bucky says.

"I know. That's why I insisted we talk alone before you say anything to him. I know how you can but but this is much bigger than us just 'lying to you' for no reason." You say.

"Is there anything else regarding this that I'm missing?" He asks.

"Not really. It's not like you had memories of him to lose from all that's happened, I don't think you ever even met him as Peter, he disappeared in the snap same as you and after Tony died he went to London on a school trip and you were off dealing with that wannabe Steve so- yeah. Nothing really changed for you."

"But for you?"

"Nothing really. I- was maybe the only exception across universes for Strange's insane spells. It's why I took him in." You shrug.

"Oh wait- so when you said you went to yell at Strange a few weeks ago-"

"He altered reality at the whims of a teenager, he deserved way more than a yelling at." You nod. "Do you still want to talk to Peter?"

"Yeah- I'd like to." He nods.

"No yelling?" You verify.

"No yelling."

"Alright, I'll go get him." You nod walking down the hall to Peter's room. You knock on the door and wait for him to mutter come in before entering. "You almost done eating?"

"I'm done." Peter clears his throat.

"Bucky wants to talk to you." You tell him.

"Is he still mad?" Peter winces.

"No." You shake your head.

"He seemed pretty peeved earlier." He wrings his hands together nervously.

"He was, that's why I had you leave, so I  could handle it, which I did." You sit next to Peter on his bed.

"I don't- like it when you guys argue." He mumbles.

"Neither do I." You shrug.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" You frown.

"You were arguing because of me." He says and you shake your head immediately.

"We were arguing because Bucky and I are two adults with opinions, believe it or not we're not going to agree on everything all the time. Even though it doesn't happen often." You wave a hand dismissively.

"Yeah but- I heard you guys... it's my fault for-"

"Don't start. Bucky was mad he didn't know, sure, but you are not responsible for his feelings and he didn't know the circumstances. I wasn't going to have him yelling at you when you did nothing wrong, especially since I'm the one who decided we would keep it from him."

"But it's my secret, he shouldn't blame you for-"

"Peter, love, my job is to protect you, even if it's from Bucky. You let me worry about the big bad wolf. And please, for once in your life, stop trying to be the grown up. You've got two of us doing it just fine." You kiss the top of his head. "Let's go, I told Bucky all that went down and he's much calmer now, but if he starts yelling that conversation ends immediately. I'm not about to let him make you feel guilty." You tell him. Peter nods and the two of you return to the living room where Bucky's still sitting.

"Hey kid, have a seat." Bucky clears his throat when he sees you. Peter sits in the armchair and you sit next to Bucky.

"I'm sorry for not- telling you earlier about the Spider-Man thing." Peter says.

"It's fine kid. I get why you might be hesitant to spill. I've got my fair share of secrets that I wouldn't go telling just anyone. It was just a shock, but I want to be clear, I'm not mad. I mean I was at first but once y/n explained everything to me there was really no way to justify being angry with you."

"I just don't want to be the reason you two fight."

"Nah don't worry, this was nothing. As far as fights go, it barely counts, and you are not to blame. I'm just hotheaded sometimes." Bucky shrugs.

"So- everything's okay?" Peter asks.

"Yeah." Bucky nods.

"Everything's okay Peter." You say.

"Oh shit-" Bucky blinks.

"What?"

"The whole accords situation."

"Yeah when the whole world thought you killed King T'Chaka." You nod.

"Ye- thank you." He says flatly.

"What about it?"

"The fight at the airport, you said Tony brought Peter to that fight."

"Correct. I cussed him out for that."

"Circling back to that, I can't believe I didn't realize it before, he grabbed my arm, it was crazy- you have to be pulling punches when you fight, right Peter?" Bucky asks.

"Uh- yeah, usually. I- could easily kill someone if I'm not careful." Peter says.

"That's impressive." Bucky hums.

"Sorry, what did you not realize before? That he pulls his punches?" You ask.

"No. He was super talkative during that fight. He's been living here for almost a year and I never made that connection, I honestly should've figured it out within a couple of months if I was actually paying attention."

"I mean, your hypervigilance usually takes a back seat when you're here so it makes sense you didn't notice. Plus, that was almost a decade ago at this point, we've had much bigger fish to fry since then- it's easy to forget details like the sound of some kid's voice." You say.

"If it helps, I don't sound the same as I did when I was 15." Peter says. "Do I?" He asks you.

"Not exactly, no." You say with a chuckle.

"I mean yeah sure I just can't believe I missed it."

"Baby, it's not that deep." You kiss his cheek. "Peter and I are just great secret keepers." You wink at Peter who smiles.

"You and I both know my secret keeping puts yours to shame." Bucky scoffs yanking you over into his lap.

"If you guys are gonna get all lovey can I go back to my room?" Peter interrupts making you and Bucky laugh.

"I just wanted to make it clear to you that I'm not angry with you. I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me things." Bucky says.

"You know I've got you too Petey." You smile at him.

"Thanks guys. I appreciate it I swear but you're still in his lap and it makes me wanna leave." Peter says.

"You know one day Peter you'll love a girl so much you never want to let her go." Bucky says squeezing you tighter for emphasis. In any other circumstance you'd have giggled but you see the way Peter's shoulder's drop and your heart aches for him.

"Yeah, one day. I'm- gonna go play some video games." Peter says before disappearing down the hall.

"Was it just me or did his energy change?" Bucky frowns at you and you sigh.

"He had a girlfriend." You say.

"What?"

"Before Strange's spell that erased him from the memories of the whole world he had a girlfriend. And he loved her enouhg that he was willing to alter the very course of our world to see her happy. Still does."

"Man I'm an asshole." Bucky's head drops to your shoulder.

"You didn't know."

"Yeah but-"

"No buts. It was an easy mistake to make. We're all figuring things out as we go." You say.

"I should go talk to him."

"Sure." You say sliding over onto the couch so Bucky can stand.

"Don't worry doll I'll be back." He says kissing you cheek.

"I'll be here." You smile at him as he goes down the hall. It's a good thing Bucky knows everything now, but you clearly have quite a ways to go when it comes to Peter. You wonder if it'll ever get easier.

***

Tagged Users: @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @buchi91

[builder051]

Month of Sick 2024 Day 3: Bad News(ish)

———————

@monthofsick

Iron man and Spider-Man. Choose your own timeline.

Warnings: emeto, high school drama

———————

Something seems off with the kid. Tony can sense it before the door to the lab whirrs slowly shut and seals like a hydraulic bathtub.

He can’t stand slamming. Not that Peter would dare to make an entrance with a bang. When the kid was first starting to visit him in the lab, Tony thought the mouse creeping was some sort of respect thing. Then he’d realized it was probably an apartment thing. Topics like housing inequality and wage gaps set angry, brain-eating larvae loose in his prefrontal cortex.

Tony usually fills the holes with a few spontaneous donations to institutes of higher learning. His fingers twitch toward his keyboard, but he rests a millimeter above the touch screen. Tony doesn’t want Peter to catch him throwing cash around, even therapeutically. That would just throw the kid-money-apartment guilt trip back into motion. At least Peter will be prepared for the niceties of life in a college dorm. It’d taken Tony a couple times around the block to recognize and participate in the etiquette of close quarters. And, of course, to start holding himself to the same standard he expected of everyone else. Hence his objection to doors noisily bouncing off walls.

Peter exhales slowly. “Hey, uh, Mr. Stark.”

The kid’s sneakers come to a halt, and he stands a respectable distance from Tony’s elbow. Something hangs in the space between them. The air feels charged with electricity. Is this what the tingle, the spider-sense feels like? Tony has never coveted Peter’s powers. He’s glad to stick with good ol’ observation and inference. He’s just a little proud how naturally the scientific method flows toward the correct conclusion. Like the fact that Peter’s anxious as fuck. And he’s been skating on carpet in wool socks. Or combing his hair without adding product. Tony grounds his feet and puts his hands on his knees, just in case the static bursts into an electric shock.

“Yeah?” Tony replies. He holds his gaze on the holographic screen in front of him for a moment, for the sake of normality. If he replies too quickly, he might tip the balance and bring on the thunderbolt. Tony cringes internally as he imagines Peter burned to a crisp. Or maybe a small pile of ash.

It would be the ash, for sure. Now that Tony’s turned to look at him, he considers his hypothesis confirmed. The kid’s pale. His hair sticks to his glistening forehead. His shoulders move up and down with every breath, which comes out loud and shallow. Bronchitis, Tony guesses. Depends on whether or not Peter’s running a fever. He could have FRIDAY run a scan in seconds. He could probably write a program for a chest x ray as well, but he doesn’t think breaking the eye contact is a good idea for now.

“Pete?” Tony asks cautiously. He tries to keep his concern out of his voice. “Did you run here or something? Why? It’s cold and brrr.” Tony mimes shivering and crossing his arms for warmth. “I thought track and field didn’t start until spring.” He eases up. If he talks too much, Peter will just start nodding in pseudo agreement.

“No, I, uh,” Peter stammers. “I took the bus.” He jerks his head suspiciously over his shoulder. “Do I smell like the bus?”

Tony keeps a straight face. He fights the urge to breathe in through his nose but eventually needs to rearrange what’s certainly a stony expression. He tries not to sniff too hard, then sets it off with a gentle smile.

“But do I, like…?” Peter trails off, lifting one arm. He presses his lips together, and the palest blush colors his nose and cheeks. If anything it makes him look sicker.

“You smell like… Rolaids, cinnamon, carnauba wax, and…pie crust?” There’s also a tinge of sour stress sweat, but Tony decides not to mention it. This whole topic of body odor is a surface issue. Meaningless chatter. Tony hopes his answer helps to loosen whatever’s got Peter so constricted, though he worries it might just pull it tighter.

“Hm.” Peter takes another audible breath, then nods. “Yeah, that’s—um, good.” He drops his arm back to his side, where he immediately begins picking at a rivet on the pocket of his jeans. “I was at Ned’s. His grandma was making emanadas. And she has those big glass candles with, like, the virgin Mary, you know?” The kid tries for a casual laugh, but he hiccups when he takes in a breath. He releases the rivet and puts his hand over his abdomen.

Tony wants to thump the kid on the back, but now’s probably not the right time to introduce physical contact. Tony doesn’t like to be handsy. Peter might have germs. The hand sanitizer is too far across the lab bench, and reaching for it now would be downright offensive.

“Ned’s house sounds great.” Tony says, filling what would be an awkward pause as Peter collected himself. The anxiety’s still coming off him in waves. Tony watches Peter’s shoulders quiver.

Tony ditches any remaining decorum and asks, “Hey, is your stomach bugging you?” He’d initially left is comment about Rolaids alone. They’d seemed like kind of a personal thing. He leaves a moment for the kid to respond, perhaps if time is of the essence to get to a bathroom or something, but Peter doesn’t say anything. He just swallows, then looks up without meeting Tony’s eye.

“Too many empanadas before the bus ride?” Tony offers.

“Hm… no.” Peter twists his lips, but settles on neither a smile nor a frown. It seems like he’s making his mouth as small as possible. “Yeah, I’m, like, I keep tasting lunch, but it’s, like, I’m fine.” The kid laughs again, sounding just as congested. “That’s probably TMI. Sorry.”

Tony shrugs. He doesn’t love discussions about acid reflux, but if that’s the problem… At least it’s a straightforward problem, but Tony has a feeling that’s more of a side effect. The real issue is something much deeper.

“They weren’t real Rolaids.” Peter blithers on. “Some kind of off brand…I got them at the bodega for, like, three bucks. I don’t think they actually work.” Peter catches himself and continues, “Not that I feel sick or anything. Just kinda—“ He removes his hand from his stomach and wavers it in midair. “I don’t know if the CVS ones are any better, or if it has to be, like, brand name…” Peter trails off nervously.

“If you do feel sick, we can fix that. Medicine cabinet in the ‘s pretty stocked ” Tony clasps his hands and rests his chin on his knuckles. “What’s going on, Pete?” Tony asks. “You don’t look so good. I mean, you smell fine, but…” Tony shrugs again. He doesn’t want Peter to feel interrogated, but if they can get to the heart of the matter… Maybe the kid will stop looking like he’s going to shit himself.

“I…” Peter hesitates. “I don’t feel really good.”

Tony can’t hold himself back anymore. “FRIDAY, run a temp scan.”

“Oh, no, I don’t have a fever.” Peter shakes his head, but the AI begins to glow, running a thin red line floor to ceiling and back again.

“Temperature scan complete,” FRIDAY reports. The outlines of two human bodies appear on the screen; temperature readings appear beside each in both Fahrenheit and Celsius.

Tony doesn’t even glance at his information. He squints in confusion when he reads Peter’s, though.

“98.7…” Tony muses. Maybe the kid isn’t incubating a bug. “How about heart rate?” Tony requests.

More numbers appear beside each figure. Tony blinks to be sure he’s reading the measurement correctly. The kid’s reads 130. Peter’s more than wound up. He’s about to blow his circulatory system.

Peter’s powers raise his metabolism, Tony reminds himself. But not that much. He’s pretty sure there are defibrillator paddles in the lab somewhere.

“Your heart rate is rising really fast.” Peter points to the pulsating heart icon beside Tony’s outline. “Is that, like, not good?”

“Oh—“ Tony backhands the air in front of his face as if batting the kid’s comment out of the way. “Forget me. Look at yours! That’s what’s not good. You’re stressing me out.”

“I told you. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Tony says firmly. “Are you scared or something? Is this- I don’t know- a panic attack?”

“Um, I don’t—” Peter gulps, then pulls his lips into a straight line. “I guess kinda stressing too.”

“What about?” Tony braces himself. What bothers highschoolers these days? Tony thinks to his own teenage experience, but he was so detached during that phase of life. He had nary a responsibility. His parents were still alive. Peter doesn’t even have that to lean back on. A rush of belated empathy hits Tony in the chest and leaches into his heart. The shot is not full of flesh-eating parasites this time. It hits hard and heavy, adding a terrible weight and increasing his worry.

Peter sighs. He puts his hands over his eyes. “Ok, ok. But please don’t get mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad?” Tony’s still focused on the possibility of a serious health incident. Even if the kid did it to himself, he’s far more concerned about the fallout than the details. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

“You’re probably going to be totally disappointed.” Peter keeps his eyes covered. “I—I don’t think I made it into MIT.”

“You don’t think?” Tony repeats. “What, did you get a letter or something? They didn’t waitlist you, did they?” He does feel his temper begin to rise despite himself. Not toward the kid, though. What kind of signature-stamping admissions officer would put Peter’s application in the ‘maybe’ pile? His grades, coupled with his experience, should blow anyone out of the water.

“No. I don’t think so. But maybe? I didn’t think of that.” Peter says in a rush.

“What do you think?” Tony presses. He glances at the flashing numbers of Peter’s heart rate again. “Tell me.”

The kid takes a shaky breath. “Ned and I made this, like, pact thing, that we would tell each other at the same time, If we got in. After we’d both gotten our letters.”

“Ok…” This is clearly background. Tony waits for the hammer to fall.

“I kind of accidentally found out about Ned. Just now, at his house. He got his MIT letter. And I saw it. I saw Ned’s letter. But like, not really, exactly.” Peter wrings his hands and cringes. It’s like he’s trying to minimize his involvement in a crime.

Tony’s heavy heart throbs with empathy. If he were a cop, he’d let the kid off. He nods, and Peter keeps talking.

“It was just the envelope, though. But it had the logo and the return address and everything. And it was a big fat envelope. So he got in. They sent him the whole admission packet thing. I know he got in.” Peter bites his lip. “Denials come in tiny envelopes, right?”

“Usually,” Tony replies. “Bureaucratic shit.” He rolls his eyes, but immediately realizes he’s being too flippant. He straightens up and looks into Peter’s eyes. His lower lids glisten with unshed tears. “Why does that make you think you got denied?” Tony asks slowly. “I get that your big reveal is sort of ruined, but did your letter—“

Peter cuts him off, his cheeks burning red against his pale face. “That’s just it. I haven’t gotten my letter. Ned’s, like, two streets away, and I’m pretty sure we have the same mail carrier person, so if Ned got his, like, yesterday or today, mine should’ve come too.”

“Well—“ Tony intends to inject a little logic and reassurance, but the kid keeps going.

“I don’t know what kind of envelope they sent, I mean, like, whether I got in or not, and it’s—it’s— just too much, and I can’t stop thinking about it, and my stomach’s, just, like,” Peter pauses and contorts his face, his fingers slowly closing into a fist, “It’s making me all messed up. It might actually be making me making me sick. I think—maybe — I could, like—puke—or something—“ The kid wraps both arms tightly around his middle, then reconsiders and presses a hand over his mouth.

“Ok, ok,” Tony says, making placating gestures while looking wildly around the lab for a trash can. There’s one under the desk on the other side of the room. Definitely not helping. And it’s too late anyway.

Peter leans forward and retches. Vomit dribbles from his palm and drips down his chin. He makes an apologetic sound, but it’s lost in the next upcoming heave.

“You’re good.” Tony stands, sending his stool rolling backward under the lab bench. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh,” the kid groans. His shoulders lurch, and more splashes down into the puddle growing around his feet. “‘M really sorry.”

“Don’t be, really.” Tony tentatively pats Peter’s shoulder. For now, he’s providing comfort. But Tony’s poised to catch the kid if he slips or starts to pass out.

Peter hiccups. Then he gasps, and his entire body shudders.

“Pete?” Tony moves sideways so he can get a look at the kid’s face. He’s still pallid, but now his eyes and nose are red as well. The impending tears are now running down his face.

“It’s ok,” Tony intones. “Really. We’ll get through it.” They’re just words, but he means them. Truly. Deeply.

Peter splutters, then spits on the floor. “Sorry,” he says again. “That was, like, really gross.”

“Eh.” Tony shrugs. “Feel better?”

“Uh, no.” Peter’s voice is hoarse, and it sounds like his mouth is still wet and stringy. “I mean, yes,” he amends quickly. “But, like, not completely?”

“Stomach is better, but the stress is still there?” Tony interprets.

“Yeah.” Peter sighs. “I’m, like…” he shakes his head.

“You’re going to be ok.” Tony gives the kid’s shoulder a squeeze, then points him toward the couch against the wall. Once he’s sure Peter is steady on his feet, Tony follows, dragging his stool along behind him.

Once they’re both sitting, Tony points at the bot positioned by the desk. He clicks his fingers. “Hey. You. DUMM-E.”

The robot whirrs and spins its tires.

“Mop,” Tony commands. “Now,” he pauses, then adds, “please.”

DUMM-E clips the wall with a loud scraping sound, but soon they can hear the squish of a wet mop against the floor.

Tony rests his elbows on his knees again. It’s his best calm, listening posture, he thinks. That’s what he wants, anyway. He doesn’t have a default reaction to stress-puke. Tony tries to be calming and an active listener. Maybe a sounding board. He wants to be whatever the kid needs, and, to be honest, he isn’t sure what that is.

“God, I’m…” Peter looks at the floor and shakes his head. He’s trembling and still suppressing sobs. “Sorry.”

Tony leans in and speaks quietly. “You’ve got to stop saying that. I don’t care. I have the bots to deal with the small stuff. Gross stuff.” He shrugs. “Whatever.”

DUMM-E makes a reproachful swivel and whir, but Tony ignores it.

Peter sniffles, but doesn’t say anything.

“Alright, I’ll start,” Tony says. “I’m going to skip the sappy stuff. But I am going to ask you the annoying questions.”

Peter nods without looking up.

Tony puts his hand up to count on his fingers. “Did you check your mail today? Or just Ned’s?”

“I checked,” Peter replies in a monotone. “Well, actually I texted May and asked her to check.” He meets Tony’s eyes for a brief moment. “So, well, basically.”

“Alright.” Tony nods curtly and puts one finger down. “Do you know the timing of your mail carrier’s route?”

“It’s, um, in the morning? Usually?” Peter wipes the back of his hand under his nose.

“Ok.” Tony puts down his second finger. “Have you…” Tony pauses. He can’t remember the next question. He’s sure there’s another. It’s on the tip of his tongue.

“I’m so doomed,” Peter whispers. “I’ve totally failed you, Mr. Stark. If you don’t want me to go on missions anymore, it’s ok.”

“Hey, stop that. I’ll still care about you if you don’t get into MIT.” Tony lets out a breath. “There, now you’re making me say sappy stuff.”

“I’m sorry.” Peter’s face folds and tears start falling again.

“It’s ok. It’s ok, really.” He has another question. He does. He just needs to concentrate. Emotions rattle between the holes tunneling away his brain. “Umm…” Then it comes to him. It’s so stupid simple. He should’ve asked it first. “What address did you give them? On your application?”

“Huh?” Peter squints, then blinks wetness out of his eyes.

“Did you put your address? Like your apartment?” Tony specifies. “Or did you put this one?” He points at the floor. “The tower. I get a few other people’s mail here. People without permanent addresses. Like Thor.”

“Thor gets mail?” The kid asks.

Initially, Tony isn’t sure if he should answer. Would Peter feel like he’s distracting him on purpose? “So much mail.” Tony chooses to go with the flow. “And he reads all of it. He sits there for hours. Eating out my fridge.” Tony hazards a smile, but continues to make haste. “What about your mail. Do I get your mail? I can’t remember.”

“Oh.” Peter covers his mouth.

Tony prepares himself for another round of puking.

“I think…” Peter murmurs, “I think, maybe, yes?”

Tony can barely hear him; the kid’s voice is both quiet and muffled. But he sees the expression on Peter’s face. Surprised. Hopeful?

“I think I put this address. Because it was all official and everything?” The kid raises his head. “I think I probably did.”

“Ok,” Tony says. “Well—“

“You must think I’m so stupid.” Peter seems on the brink of tears again. “Oh my god—“

“Stop talking.” Tony doesn’t mean to make it an order. Well, perhaps he does. Just a little. He stops barely a second, then issues another. “Why don’t you run up the stairs and check the mailbox?”

“What? You think it came here?” Peter jumps to his feet.

“Go see. It’s right at the end of the driveway.” Tony points to the door.

Peter takes off at a sprint. His shoes squeak halfway across the floor. It’s still damp from its recent mopping.

Tony looks down at his watch. He gives the kid a 30 second head start. Then he swivels his stool around. “FRIDAY?” he asks.

“Yes, boss?” Tony swears he senses excitement in the AI’s tone.

“Pull up the security cam feed. I want a good look out front.”

[woozapooza]

Miscellaneous thoughts about Sopranos season 6A

I’m almost done with the whole show, you guys! Crazy! I’m honestly looking forward to it being over so that I can breathe again. This is a selection of the stuff I wrote in my journal this season/half-season (however you want to look at it). This post is RIDICULOUSLY long (about 1700 words) so it’s going under a cut.

Originally I was going to put this point much later in the post but I’ve decided to put it first because it’s the most important: you guys, I adore Jennifer Melfi SO incredibly much and I miss the days where she was actually a main character SO incredibly much. Like don’t get me wrong, the second half of the show has been fantastic so far, but it just cannot compare to the first half for the simple reason that the character who is objectively the best used to be central and now she’s peripheral. Even if her role HAD to decrease a little bit, I wish it hadn’t decreased so much. But I’m grateful for every single second that she’s on my screen. She is literally one of THE characters ever.

The montage at the beginning of 6x01 “Members Only” was SO cool! I love a good montage, and the beginning of a season after a substantial time jump is the perfect place to put one.

In 6x02 “Join the Club,” when AJ made his oath of revenge against Junior, I wrote in my journal, “Bad idea, AJ! That could be the start of a Michael Corleone arc!” Then in 6x08 “Johnny Cakes,” we learn that AJ was consciously emulating Michael! I’m SO proud of myself for picking up on that parallel before the show spelled it out. AJ has internalized the values of the life his parents tried so hard to steer him away from, which isn’t surprising. I mean, it’s really telling that in 6x11 “Cold Stones,” Tony characterizes AJ’s problem not as a lack of responsibility or integrity but as a lack of “balls.” Tony doesn’t want his son to be a criminal like he is, but he’s never managed to dig deeper and challenge the ultra-masculine values that his entire life is founded on. 

Speaking of not thinking deeply about the values one holds, something none of these characters are particularly good at: Paulie’s fury toward Nucci in 6x04 “The Fleshy Part of the Thigh” is just the flip-side of his prior fanatical devotion, which was clearly based less on who she was and more on what she was. It was in large part a formality: not actually reciprocating all she did for him, just blindly following the rules. I say “in large part” because, thank goodness, in 6x09 “The Ride” he finally relents. Heartwarming! Man Sits In Silence On Couch With Elderly Adoptive Mother. (I’m going to go ahead and give Tony some credit for that: I think the lecture he gave Paulie in 6x04 sank in eventually.)

At last Carmela (with Melfi’s help—btw, it was SO great to see another one-on-one session between them!) has articulated the thing I’ve been thinking since at least the second season: she and Tony can claim all they want that they have their kids’ best interests at heart, but the fact is that Meadow and AJ were put into an impossible bind simply by being born.

It’s so funny how these guys (mobsters/mafiosos/wiseguys/whatever the best term is—I’m just gonna stick with “guys”) will tear into each other one moment, but then defend each other in the presence of outsiders. When Johnny cries at the wedding, Phil says that his “estimation of John Sacrimoni as a man just fucking plummeted,” but a moment later, when a random guest comments on what a sad display it was, Phil goes “he’s an emotional man 😔he loves his daughter 🥹.” Then in 6x10 “Moe ‘n’ Joe,” Tony tells Silvio he hopes Johnny dies in prison and Silvio fantasizes about throwing acid on Johnny, but a moment later when Sal Vitro refers to Johnny as “guilty,” Tony and Silvio are both like HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT ABOUT HIM 😠

This outward-facing ride-or-die stance is precisely the arrangement that Johnny violates in “Moe ‘n’ Joe” by putting family over Family. Putting aside his career and just focusing on the choice in isolation, there is a kind of nobility in his decision to take the plea deal that will let his family keep more of their money, knowing that his former colleagues will see no nobility in it and from that moment on he’ll be dead to them. Just another example of how the world these guys live in actively discourages having a heart. (Side note, Johnny is one of my favorite characters and I don’t even really know why. I get so excited every time he’s on screen. I’m always like YES IT’S THIS GUY! IT’S MY MAN!)

At the wedding, Tony is the only one of the guys to express sympathy for Johnny: just as he was (IIRC—it was a long time ago) the only one who we know for a fact was haunted by Pussy’s death (EDIT: he's not the only one, but my main point stands), just as he was the only one who mourned Tracee as a human being, just as in the next episode he will display a teensy bit of compassion for Vito when most of the guys don’t. If we didn’t get these little glimpses of a heart in Tony, if he was just rotten through-and-through, he wouldn’t be nearly as interesting a protagonist. Instead, he’s only like 99% rotten and that 1% is where the tragedy comes in. I want to say I could fix him, but that would be putting myself above Melfi, and I can’t bring myself to do that. If she can’t do it, no one can—except Tony himself, and he’s not going to. Alas.

Meadow is so frustrating because she is the one Soprano who is actually making the world a better place, but then she goes and confirms the rumor about Vito with no hesitation or qualms. Wtf queen??? Did she not care about the consequences for Vito, or did she just not think about them in the first place? I suspect it’s the latter, given that when Finn points out that Vito will probably face violence now, she doesn’t have a counterargument, but in that case...why didn’t she think about the consequences? I don’t get her. It’s so frustrating because Meadow is right about a lot of things, but like Tony, when she’s challenged to confront her own mistakes and blind spots, she just lashes out. Anyway I’m thinking of being her for Halloween next year.

It’s nice that Angie is friends with the other ladies again, but how did that happen? Even Rosalie is nice to her now, and it was Rosalie who told Adriana last season that Angie’s “not welcome here” anymore.

I’m enjoying the Cleaver stuff so much.

It’s so funny at the beginning of “Johnny Cakes,” when, having learned that it’s not going to be feasible to extort the manager of the new cafe, Patsy laments, “It’s over for the little guy.” Like he’s not WRONG but what a funny reaction to not being able to do the crimes you used to do. I don’t think you’re really the victim here, king.

You can certainly make the case that Melfi should have given up on Tony by now, but I truly find it so endearing how she continues to see potential in him, and how she’s always so proud of him whenever he does anything right. Like in 6x12 “Kaisha” when Tony recounts Christopher’s confession that he’s seeing Julianna, she’s like “omg and you DIDN’T get violent with him? Amazing job!!!” God I adore her so much I can’t even take it. 

Phil keeps claiming that he has a stake in what happens to Vito because Marie Spatafore (hi, sister of the actress who plays my favorite character!!!) is his cousin. That makes it sounds like he cares about her. But he does exactly what she DOESN’T want and murders her husband, because he doesn’t care about her, he cares about his own pride, to which she’s just an accessory. It’s what I was talking about in this post I made about 4x04 “The Weight”: when a woman is wronged, the men close to her take that as a cause for revenge regardless of the woman’s wishes. Except the men I was talking about in that post genuinely love the women they want to avenge; they just express that love in a self-centered and unhelpful way. Phil, in contrast, embodies the most extreme form of that sort of paternalistic vengefulness. He knows Marie doesn’t want Vito dead; he doesn’t care. He knows what he wants to do would actively hurt the woman he claims to be doing it for; he does it anyway. Not very nice, Phil!

After making up his mind that Vito has to die, Tony angrily says, “It’s Vito’s own fault. Why couldn’t he stay where he was?” To which Silvio says, “Don’t beat yourself up about this.” Silvio sees right through Tony’s bluster; he knows it’s a defense mechanism against guilt. That’s another thing Silvio has in common with Melfi, who can also see right through Tony’s posturing. For example, in that same episode, when Tony is complaining about AJ and wishing Carmela hadn’t prevented him from using his father’s harsh parenting techniques, Melfi cuts right through the lies that he tells himself: he claims to believe that his father had the right idea, but she points out that really, he wishes Livia had protected him from Johnny the way Carmela protects AJ. (Side note, I’ve drafted a post about Silvio and Melfi as complementary consiglieri to Tony. Will probably post it at some point.)

I love overarching character parallels AND I also love single-episode character parallels. Parallel between Vito and Tony in “Moe ‘n’ Joe”: both try to adjust to a new status quo (for Vito, a quiet life with a boyfriend and a boring but legitimate job; for Tony, a wife with a career) but both give up, screwing over other people in the process (for Vito, Jim and the guy he killed on the way back to NJ; for Tony, Carmela).

Christopher to Julianna in 6x12 “Kaisha”: “It’s just weird being where [Tony]’s been.” Tony to Valentina in 4x08: “I don't want to be where Ralph Cifaretto has been.” You guys are so cringe.

Even though Carmela can finally work on her spec house again (yay!), I hope she doesn’t forget about Adriana.

I love how Carmine talks. He talks like he’s composing a business email.

[theuniverseawakens347]

You gotta be fucking kidding me. You paid ppl off to not say anything and then got Malcom and Alissa and Ian and julian and CASY to hack their accounts to take back the money put it in an account for me these last..til January and then act like nothing ever happend and I all of a sudden get married to Tristan’s and start my new life … and then basel pressed a lawsuit on her and Therese bc their accounts got drained by those dummies up there Alissa siae Malcom and Ian McDowell can ATest w Julian Harrell for crypto.. whatever day I wrote about her trying to “help me get my life together while AGAIN sending me mental warfar” and I went to the psych to talk and relieve my head …that’s the day basel called her WITH EVIDENCE and she DIDNT say anything to Howard.

And then the day I came over talking about I’m on 5 spiritual retreats they all lead to ONE PERSON ONLY AND OUR FAMILY BEING TIED TOGETHER AND KNOWING OUR SPIRITUAL TRUTH.. TRISTAN❤️❤️ ..THATS the day she then what …wanted to admit the bullshit to me but then found ways to further gas light me about what my ex’s had done and then build a case in HER HEAD why I was unfit STOOPID excetera to think neffi would come back bc Daniel said she attacked his dog and he had to put her down per Lee request …so then decided fuck I gotta build a FAKE MENTAL CASE ON CASHAY SO SHE DOESNT KNOW HER FAVORITE THING NEXT TO TRISTAN IN THE WORLD IS DEAD 🤯 bruh u gotta be so fucking for real. THIS WHAT I BEEN LIVING W?? Then put the fucking crazy rollercoaster of bullshit on me …cause what I put on the blog about AFTER THE PLAY OF 44 THANK I BRODY FOR SPEAKING THE TRUTH TO ME THRU VIDEO CLIPS OF OUR ACTUAL HISTORY… 👽tology ..hit me with a “wise words of wisdom” the VERY NEXT MORNING AFTER READING MY BLOG WHILE DOING MY HAIR …then watched law abiding citizen knowing that was going to be her truth ..and the fucking psycho nurse my truth 🤯🤯🖕🏽🙂 ..reverse that. The right ones get it .. basically admit THRU MOVIES THIS SHIT IS REAL AND IM ADVENGING MY OWN FUCKING FAMILY FOR THEIR MURDER OF MADS DESTRUCTION ON HER HANDS …and then something happened w Vivicca me admitting Tristan and I been talking TELLATHICALLY .. told her I had a message / package from him cause she was suppose to turn me over to him by then and didn’t decided to send me to Vivicca to let someone else care for me while she cleaned up her fucking mess.. but me saying me n Tristan been in communication and HOWARD backing her up saying no you had not just what ..fuel for more fuck shit to prove I’m crazy and she’s sane 🤯🙂🖕🏽 that’s retarded as fuck Lee. I CLEARLY FUCKING KNOW / KNEW. And ur FURTHER helping me prove EVERYTHING I OUT ON THIS BLOG. Alissa morris did some fuck shit to Lee garlington and wants to get back at her…they in a weird tit for tat …Alissa got her government official computer breaking into our house and Alissa did all the nudes to the White House the day vivcca and I came over to speak to her and Howard ABOUT THE INDUSTRY TRACKING / SHIT BOYFRIENDS that came by way cause Lee + Alissa fucked all of them ..so ur telling me Alissa is a miniature terrorist w Aja and they’re getting back at u w Tony .. THIS AINT TRUE AT ALL U LYING ASS SHIT. U PAID THEM OFF TO DO THAT DUMB SHIT W MALCOM AND THEY ALL TOOK PARRT AND IAN WAS THERE TO KNOW THAT U THREATENED THEM ALL W BIG MURDR CHARGES OF PAST MURDSERS .. like wtf kind sense does that make Lee . UR A REALLY WDIRD FUCKING PERSON IN THE HEAD AND UR STILK HOLDING ME HOSTAGE BC U LEGITIMATELY WANT TO KILL ME OUT OF THE FACT THt u WONT BE THE LFIRST LADY IE KAMALA HARDIS .. sorry fucking the spelling. This sooooo childish u gotta be fucking kidding me … and yall nighas say i got adult issue ain’t no fucking way this what’s been going on in ur brain and u just been keeping cool.. or this bitch real life lost her rockers when I started awakening the first day she seen me at st Francis psychward .. the condition in which I was in.. this bitch really made At herself for failing as a fucking mother when she worked sooooo hard to prove she’s a good mother .. like what was the point of the planned breakin .. that’s what happens when u don’t know pol in yo circle .. u got extra weirdo ppl around u looking for a hand out u gon say someone Ian took over and did things his way to prove I’m not fucking crazy and ur a shitty ass fucking mom because nighas been watching this blog and watching me on my fucking growth ..so u know Howard paid these ppl off to stop the fuck shit but nighas h4_eazy still did the weird shit and stole my laptop til Ian told him put it back then stole Howards.. that had child pornography on it of me as a minor .. ALISSA IR FUCKING WEIRD U TEO CONSPIRING RN W MALCOM AND NICKI HOW GO GET OUT OF THIS SHIT INSTEAD OF ADMITTING YAL ON WEIRD SHIT .. as pissed off and upset as I am w Howard rn Zfor not STANDING ..

[tell-me-no-again]

It started like this…

“And I’m- I’m- I’m just some guy, ok? Just a GUY, and like I have to go grocery shopping, I have a JOB, you know? Classes?! I- It’s just so much pressure…” Peter’s voice trailed off as he realized the room was staring at him.

“Kid,” began Tony, and Bucky winced at the tone in his voice. “Look around. The black cat who flew in from Africa for this one runs a COUNTRY. Cap’s socio-political calendar is more booked than the president’s- and the Danger Twins are the highest black ops team on the planet. I know college is hard-” and again, Bucky flinched from the condescension in the tone, “but we’ve all got too much on our plates, ok? We’re all in the same temp water.”

Peter’s mouth had snapped shut- a hard clicking noise even over the jet engine’s muted roar. He hunched into his seat, took a long pull from his water bottle, and glared at the floor.

‘What a dick,’ thought Bucky, not for the first time.

He wasn’t Steve, to barge in where he wasn’t wanted, but Peter worshipped the ground Tony walked on in the worst way, anyone could see it. And you’d have to be blind to see Tony wasn’t always good at thinking through Peter’s point of view on things.

So Bucky stood up, casually, and walked to get himself a snack, Steve’s eyes boring a hole right between his shoulder blades. Guy never could just relax about it, could he? He’d watched Bucky do this plenty of times in the army, but he couldn’t trust that Bucky could handle the men- even better than the glorious Cap could.

He slouched his way onto the seat beside the frustrated and tense younger man. “I usedta be just a guy,” he said quietly, shrugging when Peter turned his head to glare at him. “Usedta go grocery shopping, have to pay bills. Life was plenty hard, and I didn’t get dragged halfway across the planet to fight some dame with a pink cape.”

“I’m not mad about being an Avenger,” Peter muttered.

Bucky nodded. “Sure. You love the fight. Doesn’t mean it’s not fucking with your life, though.” He offered the guy some of the high-calorie mixed nuts and things in the bag he was holding, smiling tightly when Peter eventually lifted his hand, palm up, to receive a portion.

Talk to the guys, feed them a little. Listen to whatever thing they thought they were wound up about. That’s what he used to do, too.

Bucky leaned back, ignoring Steve’s small private smile. “I’m trying to be just a guy again,” he told Peter, keeping his voice quiet. “It’s weird. Everything’s all…” he waved a hand, “you all do a lot, you fill every minute. Everything’s changed and I’m scrambling to figure it out, you know? And trying to decide which toppings I want on my pizza because there’s 3,000 to choose from.”

A long pause, while they both chewed.

“I can help with that,” said Peter slowly. He grinned at Bucky. “I love pizza, and I’m a man of science. We can use experiments and data to narrow down your selections.”

“Good,” said Bucky, grinning back. “I tried to order one last week from the place Stark put on my phone but the damn app- I had to look up half of the CHEESE names under that option, and I just gave up.”

“Lemme see your phone,” said Peter, tossing his head and gesturing impatiently. “You shouldn’t order pizza from any of Tony’s places. He’s got the worst taste buds.”

Bucky ignored Steve’s fond smile. So what? He was good with the guys- especially the new ones who just wanted to be heard, to talk about how fucking overwhelming it was. He was good with the guys, that was all.

It didn’t mean anything.

~~~

So that was how it started- Bucky just going out of his way the first few times to be decent to the guy. To say, “Yeah, it fucking sucks. I get it.”

They ate twenty seven pies in thirteen hours. Bucky liked mushroom and sausage best, and they discovered together that he could enjoy a wider variety of pizza once they’d find his favorite.

Peter didn’t drink, and neither did Bucky, and neither of them smoked stale cigarettes, and there weren’t mortars going off and people shouting, but it was familiar anyway.

The good kind of familiar.

It wasn’t like the guy was a sap, either, or a Debbie downer. He was funny- kept Bucky in stitches when they’d find time. Guy had more quips and one-liners than Callaway, back in basic.

Steve had never met Callaway, but he agreed with Bucky that Peter was funny.

They taught Peter to like baseball, and he helped them find the apps they actually wanted on their phones, jettisoning the things Stark had put on there.

It got to be their post-mission thing they did: Peter would come back to their apartment and bitch and moan, and Bucky’d bitch back at him, friendly-like, and Steve would smile at them and order in enough food to feed a platoon.

Then some girl broke Peter’s heart, and Bucky drummed up everything he could remember about how to get a pal through that.

Rough. It was always so rough, no matter when it happened and what you were doing- but you couldn’t tell a guy risking his life that he’d have more chances. That’s where Stark had gone wrong, with all that ‘find another one, you’re good looking’ bullshit.

That worked on civilians, probably.

But Petey wasn’t a civilian. He’d started fighting too young, just like all the soldiers Bucky had trained with and fought beside. Stark had been a grown man when he’d started fighting, but Bucky, he recognized a soldier when he saw one.

Civilian stuff wouldn’t work. That’s why Stark rubbed the guy wrong when he went looking for a friend.

But it didn’t really matter, since Bucky was right there and he didn’t mind.

Peter was a swell guy.

It was easy to listen to him, when he needed to bitch about it.

The guy hadn’t even been drafted. He’d been a kid, really, and he’d had a little kid accident, and then BAM, superhero sucker punch.

Bucky could find some sympathy for that.

“I’m a danger, she’s right,” Peter said in a tight voice.

“Ah, c’mon, she’s a New Yorker, just breathing is a danger, fuck that,” muttered Bucky, shaking his head. What a bum deal, for the kid. “She really didn’t even give a hint?”

“Nothing,” choked Peter, burying his head in his hands. “I thought we were okay!”

Bucky winced where the guy couldn’t see him. ‘Okay’ had never been his baseline of satisfaction with a dame. Amazing, stupendous, fantastic- in a pinch, he’d settle for good. But okay?

Mayday mayday crashing burning.

But the guy was young. That happened, when you were young. You didn’t know it could be better so you settled for okay.

“Well it fucking sucks,” Bucky growled, reaching forward to the stack of takeout menus they’d been working through. “How we gonna eat our feelings about it tonight?”

Peter laughed, a hollow, echoing sound that broke Bucky’s heart, it really did.

“Something spicy,” declared Bucky recklessly. “So if you start crying, you can tell me it’s the spice, and I’ll believe you.”

“Bucky,” laughed Peter, a sound with real humor, “we covered toxic masculinity last week- men can just cry. I don’t need to lie about it. We stopped doing that in like the 80s I think.”

Bucky gave him a glance over the top of the Indian menu he had opened. “Yeah, well, you’ve been choking your tears back for the last hour, so I thought maybe you were doin’ a throwback thing, I dunno. Kids these days. Mighta been a TikTok challenge: get dumped and don’t cry about it or whatever.”

Over Peter’s spluttering he added primly, “In my day when a doll told a guy to take a hike, you’d just cry about it like a human being going through some rough shit, you know.”

“Bucky!”

“What? The future is weird,” Bucky pointed out. “You got real weird. How do I know?”

It wasn’t really a surprise when he ended up holding the guy later that night, as he cried about his plans for his girl, their future together.

It wasn’t Bucky’s first time holding the pieces of a heart, after all.

He was just glad the guy came to him.

Meant he was doing some good- and it felt good. Felt right.

~~~

“Should we just start calling that room Peter’s room?” asked Steve, nodding at the guest bedroom where Peter was sacked out, exhausted after some final exam had kept him up a full 48 hours (with patrol).

Bucky dropped his phone so he could stare at his best friend and Captain, and Steve stared back, lifting his chin in a slight challenge.

After several long minutes of silence, Bucky lifted up his phone and swiped to the Spice Emporium app. “Yeah,” he muttered, in response to Steve’s several unspoken questions as well as the one he’d asked aloud.

Steve, the bastard, smirked into his coffee.

So what if Bucky liked having the guy over? So what? Petey was funny, and fun, and had great ideas for shit to do in this fucked up century that made it feel less fucked up. They talked for hours, and fought about baseball, and yeah, Bucky had a torch for the guy, maybe, but Steve shouldn’t smirk about it.

Not at the breakfast table, anyway.

Not when Bucky’s heart was thumping so had it would break his breastbone.

It wasn’t like it was the first time.

Bucky just liked being friends with guys, ok?

And sometimes it just happened.

“It’s a new century, Buck,” murmured Steve. “They get married now. Kiss in public. Hold hands.”

“Good for them,” spat Bucky angrily, standing up, leaning in for emphasis he clearly needed. “I’m not trying any funny business with the guy. Just- being the kind of friend he deserves.”

“You deserve him,” Steve countered, voice even and eyes steady. The jerk was always like that- saying the thing you didn’t want anyone to say.

“He wants me, he can have me. Til then, butt out,” Bucky growled, turning on his heels.

Interfering busybody gossip girl Steven Rogers. No one ever believed him about the punk.

~~~

And then it ended like this…

“Hey, watch it!” scolded Bucky, as he woke to Peter crawling in the window. “I’m a brainwashed assassin! I could kill you.”

“I wish you would,” rasped Peter quietly. “I wish-”

“Hey, you okay?” asked Bucky, sitting up and turning on the light. “What’s up, Petey?”

“I got- bad trip- roofied- drugs,” Peter slurred, his limbs flopping everywhere as he gestured expansively and tried to walk.

“Shit,” swore Bucky.

“Came here, head’s all fucked up,” moaned Peter, flopping onto the bed. “Needed- you.”

“Glad you came,” Bucky said, hating how raw and earnest it sounded.

Peter laughed and began to cry. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he sobbed.

“Hey, no, no, it’s okay,” Bucky told him, dragging him bodily up the bed and tossing the blankets awkwardly over both of them. “You’re safe here. I got you. What are friends for?”

“Y’r my best friend,” sobbed Peter. “I love you. You’re the best.”

Bucky told his stupid heart to behave, holding the slight frame of the other man in his arms. He nuzzled the curls just a little, enjoying the scent of the other man. “I am your friend,” he declared slowly and forcefully. “I got your back. Sleep it off, Petey. Just- sleep it off.”

It wasn’t that easy, but eventually the guy did pass out, wrung out and exhausted, his spider suit tossed into a corner and one of Bucky’s new tshirts completely enveloping the thin, anxious body.

Bucky stayed up, waiting for the villain to track Spidey to this little bolt hole, but none appeared.

It was afternoon before Peter stumbled out of Bucky’s room and into the kitchen.

“Hey, champ,” Steve greeted him. “I texted Stark last night-he was getting hysterical after you disappeared. Banner says it cleared your system around 6 am, but it’s nasty and you can check in with him for the next couple of weeks. Bacon’s in the oven.”

“Thanks,” croaked Peter, slumping into a chair.

Bucky slid him a fresh cup of coffee with a shoulder pat of sympathy.

“Did I-?” began Peter in a wrecked voice. He stopped, took a breath, and then continued, “- tell you that I love you? Last night?”

“You did. You were higher than a kite, pal,” said Bucky.

Peter squinted up at him. “Do I- remember you saying that was ok?”

It was more than okay.

Even if it would never be enough.

“Of course,” Bucky told him firmly. “What, love got all weird while we were gone, too? You got rules about it? Guy can’t love a good friend?”

“No, but-“ a long pause, the kind that eventually required Bucky to lift his head and LOOK at the guy. “Bucky, I don’t-“ Peter shrugged. “I don’t think it’s just as a friend.”

Bucky choked on his coffee.

Steve took a long, loud sip from his own mug, eyes dancing with self-satisfied glee.

The jerk.

“Is that a problem?” asked Peter in a small voice.

“Hell no,” replied Bucky forcefully, spinning Peter’s chair. “You wanna kiss? Steve, cover your eyes. NO CAMERA.”

Peter’s laughter tasted even better than it sounded.

Peter seeking out Bucky for comfort.

I just love the thought so much.

[bestofbucky]

The Man With A Plan. (Stucky x reader)

Pairings: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Steve x reader x Bucky.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY, smut, threesome, swearing, little bit of sub/dom, praise kink, captain/sergeant kink, some fluffiness at the end.

A/N: This is my first time writing smut so pls be nice! Obviously I had to start with Stucky :) where else would I start? Didn’t expect it to be this long but oh well!

THANK YOU SO MUCH @buckyownsmylife I wouldn’t be posting this without your help! You are incredible and everyone reading this should read her stuff after :)

Divider by @firefly-graphics

You and Bucky have a prank war that’s been going on pretty much ever since the two of you became friends. They were completely harmless pranks, he put flour in your hairdryer, you filled the floor of his room with cups of water, the usual stuff.

Right now, you’re on holiday with all the Avengers and of course, partners and kids, at Tony’s beach mansion in Italy. You had been here for 5 days now and every night Bucky goes for a late night swim, which you only just found out he does naked. He leaves his clothes and a towel on a sunlounger on the shore.

So of course, when you found out, you decided you would steal his stuff when he was in the water so he would have to walk naked through the house. All the adults were in the lounge, after all the kids had gone to bed. You had already stolen Bucky’s stuff and put it in his room so it was just a waiting game until he walked in.

Right on time, the door bursts open and an angry faced Bucky storms into the room, he is using both hands to conceal himself and shuffling sideways like a crab with his backside to the wall. Everyone is in fits of laughter, especially when he reaches the door which is closed and he has to remove one hand in order to open it.

You are chuckling to yourself but struggling to laugh any more than that. The sight of Bucky’s still wet body was stealing all your focus. You watched intently as a droplet rolled down the middle of his chest, over his abs then disappeared behind his hand. You clenched your thighs, shifting in your seat hoping it covered up your movements.

Bucky finally managed to exit the room and everyone was chuckling among themselves. You couldn’t stop thinking about how incredible Bucky had looked. You tried to push the thoughts of him out of your mind, especially because your boyfriend was sitting right next to you.

“I think we should go to bed.” Speak of the devil. Steve had leaned closer to you, his mouth hovering over your ear.

Fuck, you think. He probably saw how you were looking at Bucky and is now really angry with you. To make sure you don’t make him any angrier, you agree. Saying goodnight to everyone you both head up to your room.

Steve immediately heads into the bathroom without saying a word. You start getting changed thinking of how you could make it up to him but your thoughts are soon interrupted by Steve’s voice.

“I think that was your best one so far.” He chuckles and you join, still nervous he might be upset.

“Yeah, the look on his face was definitely worth it.” You joke back as you get into bed. Steve, now just in his boxers, comes and joins you, pulling you onto his lap so you are straddling him.

“I wasn’t looking at his face,” he whispers, making goosebumps rise across your skin. “And I know for a fact, you weren’t either.” His lips attach to your neck causing you to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

He pulls away. “Do you ever think about Bucky fucking you?” He asks as his hands make their way underneath your shirt.

“No, of course not. I’m with you.” You say as he starts massaging your boobs.

“I have.” There isn’t a trace of embarrassment in his voice.

“You’ve thought about Bucky fucking me or you?” You tilt your head back as he starts to play with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.

“Both. I know what it’s like to be with Buck. I want to know what it’s like to be with you both together.” The thought of Steve and Bucky together makes you grind your hips down onto Steve and you feel him grow hard underneath you.

“You like the thought of me and Bucky?” Steve teases as he nibbles at your neck. “Or was it the thought of all three of us?”

You start to imagine what it would be like with them both. Would Bucky want you to call him Sergeant like Steve has you call him Captain? Who would take the lead, or would it be both of them? You think about being sandwiched between them, their skin rubbing against yours as they take you however they want, using your body for their pleasure.

Suddenly Steve stops everything, his hands come out from underneath your shirt and rest on your hips and he leans back against the headboard, no longer kissing your neck. You frown at him and he simply smirks.

You rock your hips to try to get the friction you need but he holds you still.

“Steve please” You say breathlessly.

“Not tonight, angel. Take it as your punishment for practically drooling over Buck.” He lifts you off him.

“But you just-”

You immediately stop talking when you see his eyes. When he looks at you like that you wouldn’t dare disobey him. So instead, you curl yourself into his side and try hard to get the thoughts of Bucky out of your mind so you can drift off to sleep.

Bucky had a plan to get you back and in his mind it was a good one. Everyone had left for the day to explore Italy but you and Steve told everyone you weren’t feeling up to it and were going to stay at the house. Perfect. Bucky also told everyone he was going to stay behind so now the three of you were lounging around the pool together.

You had started to mumble your words and Bucky could tell you were getting tired. He made sure to stay quiet enough for you to drift off to sleep which you soon did. When you’re breathing evened out he sprung into action.

He went into the kitchen, grabbed a pair of scissors and came back out, he walked over to where you were laying and just as he was about to start cutting he was interrupted by Steve’s voice.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Although he was trying to be intimidating, he was still whispering so he wouldn’t wake you.

“Getting even.” Bucky stated simply and Steve just shrugged allowing him to continue with whatever it is he wanted to do.

Leaning back over your sleeping body Bucky gently cut the two top straps and the middle strap of your triangle bikini, but didn’t move it. He then went to put the scissors back and grabbed a jug, filling it with ice cold water. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he knew he was going to get you back so good.

He made his way back outside, Steve sat up on his chair and watched eager to see what was about to happen. Bucky pulls his arm back and aims the water at your face and chest.

A surge of cold suddenly hits your body and you gasp as you instinctively stand up. It takes a few moments for you to come to and understand where you are and what just happened. You finally open your eyes and you see Bucky standing in front of you, an empty jug in his hand and a mischievous smirk on his face. The bastard. He must have thrown the ice cold water on you.

You scowl at him, but his smirk quickly fades as his eyes trail down to your chest. Then you notice that you can feel the breeze on your skin and you look down only to discover you are no longer covered by your bikini top. It is in pieces on the floor in front of you.

Before you can act, Steve is behind you, he places a hand on each boob. You don’t know if he is trying to protect you from Bucky’s eyes, hold you back from lunging at him or just using it as an excuse to feel you up. Probably the third one.

“These are for my eyes only.” Steve growls but your mind goes back to the conversation you had with him last night. Bucky just continues laughing, finding the situation hilarious. You smirk at the idea that comes into your head.

“If you wanted to see what's underneath my top, all you had to do was ask.” You place your hands on top of Steve’s and pull them off your body, exposing yourself to Bucky.

His laughter comes to a halt and he bites his lip as his eyes fixate on your chest. He glances behind you at Steve for confirmation which you assume he got because he starts walking towards you.

He stops right in front of you and lifts his hand up, his eyes never leaving yours. His fingers lightly graze over your nipple and you lean forward into his touch but he pulls his hand away and turns his head to Steve before eventually looking back to you.

“Can I see what’s underneath these?” His fingers fiddle with the ties on either side of your bikini bottoms. You nod, allowing him to continue and he pulls at them, still holding eye contact. It comes undone and he lets it fall to the floor.

He places his hands on your hips and guides you backwards until the back of your legs hit a sunlounger, and then gently pushes you down, spreading your legs apart to dangle on either side. His eyes finally leave yours as they trail down your body, sucking in a breath when he sees your pussy.

He looks over at Steve again and you do too. He is sat to the side watching you both as he palms himself through his swim shorts. The sight turns you on even more. You feel Bucky shift so you return your gaze to him. He starts to place wet kisses up your inner thighs, stopping before he gets to the place you want him most.

“Always wanted to taste you.” He looks up at you as he licks up your slit before swirling his tongue around your clit. He presses a cold metal finger into and you gasp, arching your back off the lounger. He sucks on your clit as he pumps in and out of you, adding another finger and curling them just right, to hit your sweet spot. You moan loudly as the pleasure ripples through your body.

“Fuck, doll. Let me hear all those noises you make.” He continues at a steady pace as you start to feel the coil tighten inside you. Your hands find their way into his hair as he sends you over the edge. You cry out, your thighs squeezing his head as he continues through your orgasm.

He finally pulls away as you start to come down. He smiles at you, lips glistening.

“Steve,” Bucky summons Steve over. He kneels next to you and Bucky brings his fingers up to his lips. Steve happily accepts, opening his mouth and sucking your juices off Bucky’s fingers. The sight alone is almost enough to make you orgasm again, especially when you notice both men straining against their swim shorts.

You reach your hand out and slip it into Steve’s shorts, wrapping it around his length, his moan muffled by Bucky’s fingers. You look at Bucky who is already staring at you, he wraps his spare hand around the back off your neck as he pulls you into a heated kiss.

He is more dominating than Steve is but you enjoy the way he takes control. You continue to move your hand up and down Steve’s length and your other hand palms Bucky through his shorts. He sighs into your mouth and you love the feeling of pleasing both men.

All too soon, Bucky is pulling away and releasing his fingers from Steve’s mouth. He walks over to another sunlounger and takes the cushion off, placing it on the floor next to Steve.

“Can I fuck your mouth?” His tone makes you want to do anything he says, so you quickly nod.

“Lie down,” he commands. You lie on the cushion on your back and he kneels over your face. You go to wrap your hand around him but he catches your wrist, stopping you.

He guides himself to your mouth, tapping gently on your lips. You open wide and he pushes in. He is not as thick as Steve but he is longer and you can feel him deeper in your throat.

“Fuck doll. Your mouth feels so good around me,” he moans when he hits the back of your throat.

“Come here Steve.” He holds his cock down your throat and you remind yourself to breathe through your nose. Steve stands in front of Bucky, his legs either side of your head.

You watch as Steve’s cock disappears down Bucky’s throat and you hum, finding it incredibly hot. Bucky starts gently thrusting into your mouth and Steve does the same for Bucky. You don't know what to focus on: your boyfriend’s delicious noises as he moves in and out of his best friend’s mouth, the sight of Bucky’s lips wrapped around Steve’s cock, or the feeling of Bucky’s cock moving in and out of your mouth.

Your moans send vibrations down Bucky’s cock and you feel him twitch slightly as he starts to increase in speed. The noises coming from both you and Bucky are making Steve weak at the knees.

“You’re taking his cock so well angel.” Steve tells you and you clench around nothing at his praise.“Look so good with your lips around his cock.”

It’s not long before Bucky’s thrusts lose their rhythm and he is releasing down your throat. Steve follows shortly after. You and Bucky make sure to swallow everything you have been given.

You know from experience that super soldiers don't need much time before they can go again, but it still surprises you how quickly they can recover.

You are still lying on your back, a little bit of Bucky’s cum dribbles out your mouth and down your cheek.

“You look so pretty with my cum dripping down your face,” Bucky tells you and again the words go straight to your core. The smirk on his face tells you he knows how you feel about praise. You use your finger to wipe the cum off and then suck it as you hold eye contact with Bucky.

“Such a good girl.” he murmurs.

Steve comes over to you with a glass of water which you happily accept, you take small sips until you have had enough and you pass it back to Steve. He takes a couple of gulps before handing it to Bucky who finishes it off.

“Are you ready for another round, angel?” Steve asks as he gently brushes some hair out of your face. You nod eagerly, excited for what will happen next.

“Yes, Captain.” You correct yourself, knowing Steve likes it when you use your words.

“Fuck.” You expect the expletive to come from Steve as a response to you calling him captain but you are surprised to find out it came from Bucky. You smile knowing exactly what he wants you to call him.

“How do you want me, Sergeant?” It’s like the words flipped a switch in his mind.

“Hands and knees princess,” he tells you and you obey. Bucky takes his place behind you while Steve sits down in front of you, placing a gentle kiss to your lips.

Bucky’s hand comes down on your ass and you gasp in shock. “No kissing unless I tell you to.” You know from this moment on Bucky is in charge and you need to do everything he says and nothing more. The whole situation makes you so wet you can feel it starting to drip down your thigh.

Bucky slides his cold metal fingers through your slick. “Fuck, you’re dripping princess.” His fingers glide over your clit, and you jerk, still a little sensitive. “You like being told what to do? Being used for our pleasure?” He asks as continues to toy with your clit. You nod, too consumed by pleasure to say anything. Bucky’s movements halt and he brings his hand down on your cheek again. You whimper at the contact.

“Use your words.” He growls.

“Yes sergeant.” You see Steve smile at your obedience the same way he always would when training you and your chest swells slightly knowing he is proud of you.

“Good girl.” You feel Bucky guide his tip to your entrance, only pushing himself slightly in, causing your frustrations to grow.

“Please, Sergeant. I need your cock. Please fuck me.” You beg, hoping he will give you the satisfaction you need.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He hisses as he slowly presses all the way in, determined to savour the feeling.

“How does she feel Buck?” Steve asks like you aren’t even there.

“So good, Steve. So hot and wet,” he mumbles and the praise makes you involuntarily clench around him.

“Can I suck your cock, Captain? Please.” You ask and he looks up to Bucky for permission. Seeing Steve second in command is something you never thought you would witness but you are so glad you are.

He rises onto his knees and guides himself into your mouth. The feeling is indescribable, and you become impatient, pushing yourself backwards into Bucky, who simply chuckles. It seems to work though, as they both start to gently thrust in and out, working in tandem with each other.

“Gripping me so tight, doll.”

“Fuck, angel”

“Feel so good”

“Doing so well.”

Their voices start to merge into each other as your body is taken over by pleasure. Their thrusts start to become sloppy and uneven as they each use your body to chase their release. You can feel the pressure building in your stomach as Bucky snakes his hand around and circles your clit with his fingers.

It’s not long till Steve is thrusting one last time deep into your throat, grunting as he releases into your mouth. The noises that fall from his lips send you over the edge and you clench down hard around Bucky as you cum on his cock. Bucky is quick to follow as your pussy milks his cock and soon you feel his release coating your walls.

They both ease out of you and you let your body collapse onto the cushion. You try to catch your breath, your mind still dizzy with arousal.

Steve’s fingers make their way into your hair as he gently massages your scalp while Bucky places kisses, starting on your lower back and traveling up your spine to your shoulder.

“You did so well, doll.” Bucky says.

“I’m so proud of you, angel.” Steve tells you as he shuffles around you. A small smile makes its way onto your lips at their praise.

You feel arms wrap around you and you are lifted into the air, you snuggle your head into their neck and breathe in. You can tell it’s Steve from his scent.

“Where are we going?” You mumble.

“We need to get you cleaned up.” He explains and you open your eyes to see Steve is carrying you towards your room.

“Is Bucky coming too?” You ask softly which warms both Steve and Bucky’s hearts.

“Yeah doll. I’m here.” You hear his voice from behind you and sigh happily as your mind replays what just happened. You know from this moment on it’s no longer just you and Steve, it’s all three of you, together.

Permanent Taglist: @vampirewithbedsidemanners @townwitchbitch @velvetcardiganbucky @courtneychicken @band--psycho @tuiccim @lunarmoon8

[widow-maximov]

Can you do a Natasha x reader of them finding out the reader is expecting, and basically they hadn’t told everyone else about their relationship yet and now they decide to because of r’s pregnancy~ 🦋✨

Of course! This definitely will be a lot of fun to do, Thank you for sending this request.

If anyone wants to tagged in my future work, DM me or use the requests to leave a tag so you'll be notified when I post, I don't have a limit on tags so whoever wants to be tag, feel free to message me.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Finally

Pairing: Natasha x Fem Reader

Warning: Language, a lot of fluff :3

Summary: Having a secret relationship with the famous Black Widow is hard enough, but what if Y/n finds out that she's finally pregnant..

Word count: 2.3k

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

Here you are, alone in the bathroom sitting on the edge of the bathtub as you bounce your leg up and down, staring at the test that you just peed on, the anxiety in that moment cannot be explained but one just have to experience themselves.

You always wanted to start a family and throughout all the attempts you seem to fail each time, you and your girlfriend of 4 years have decided to finally start a family, the subject with your girlfriend was tough as she always was afraid of doing something wrong and ruin the child's view on her just like it did on her when she was small.

People might wonder who is this girlfriend that you decided to take a huge step with, well it's nonetheless Natasha Romanoff, the woman who swept you off your feet the second you laid your eyes on her.

Let's back track a little, shall we?

5 years ago

It was a difficult and stressful time for you, you have been working your ass off so you could get recognised by Tony Stark, he was going to pick someone to work along him for his new project and you were up for that task, you knew if you were good enough he would definitely take an interest in your work.

Where you currently worked paid you the minimum and it just wasn't enough so when you heard about the offer, you took it without thinking twice, you knew that this would be a good opportunity for you and being recognised world wide for the work you did with him would bring more and better job offers.

Even if you had slight doubt about the work you did for this, you were picked out of everyone who took part. The happiness you felt in that moment was unimaginable, you felt so proud of yourself and Tony was too.

You was quick to work with Tony, he needed someone asap and what you provided him was more than enough, you were finished within couple days, it wasn't until day 3 that you actually managed to leave the place with him, he was going to walk to you around and show you some stuff that he created, but of course that didn't go unnoticed by the team.

Tony knew that if he introduced you to them, there would be a possibility of you being spooked by their loud strong personalities but he took the risk as they were his family in a way.

They were more than happy to meet you and you were fascinated by their weapons and how they complimented them. You found yourself in deep conversations with everyone, creating new friends expect that one redhead.

You knew she was the Black Widow, she along with the team were all over the news, she was a little concerned at how fast everyone liked you, she was happy for a new addition but there was something her that told her to be aware.

With each passing week you spent with Stark, the more he grew fond of your presence, that he even made sure you have your own room in the tower so you wouldn't have to travel so far back where you lived, the team were excited when you accepted his offer to stay here and soon even though you wasn't a hero, you felt like a teammate.

Natasha grew fond of you as well, the way your smile would make her day a little bit better, the way your laughter would fill the room, making her smile as well, she was good at hiding her emotions so she wasn't worried that the team might find out about her little crush on you.

'Little' of course, that's what she wanted to believe but each time at the sight of you, that just backfired on her, the way you wouldn't even notice her until she literally had to clear her throat, there would be a second in your eyes where you would be lost but a smile would be plastered across your lips at the sight of the Russian.

"Hello Natty" You replied as you made your way where she was, by the coffee which you needed desperately.

She stiffen at the nickname which didn't go unnoticed, causing you to panic "Oh I'm sorry! I didn't want to overstep anything"

"No, no you didn't overstep anything.." Her voice quiet down as she looked anywhere else but you.

You felt a little awkward so when the coffee was done, you grabbed the cup and slowly made your way out of the kitchen, that's when she spoke up "It's just.. No one called me that before"

You turned to face her as she held herself, arms wrapped around herself, from her body language she was afraid to open up which caused a lightbulb to light up in your head.

You took a deep breath, gathering the courage "Do you have a free evening today?"

Her eyes darted to you as she nodded "Yeah"

You nodded with a smile at her reply "Okay" and walked out, a part of Natasha wanted to go after you and ask why but another part wanted to see what you will do.

The evening come by really quickly and the curiosity ate at Natasha, she waited and waited and nothing, she thought that maybe you just were curious yourself but when she walked inside her room, she saw a little white paper placed on her bed.

She walked over and opened it, expecting some sort of prank but it only instructed her to go to the roof and wear something comfortable, so she just did that.

You knew the redhead wasn't exactly fond of you.. or so you thought, so sitting on the roof waiting for her to show up was definitely nerve wracking. You had set up a nice comfy place on the roof, with a projector so you can watch movies, it was with the help of Tony of course, he had to give you the permission before you went and done anything.

Your head whipped towards the door and there she stood, she looked a little shy but when you waved her over, she quickly hid that emotion behind her smile.

She took a look around and raised her brows at you as she sat down next to you "What is all of this?"

You smiled "Whatever you want it to be"

She looked a little confused before a smile settled on her lips as she looked down so you continued "It can be a movie night, just me and you or we can talk or we just sit here in silence as we stare at the sky"

In the redheads life no one really cared that much about her feelings like you did in that moment "Thank you"

She nodded proudly at her with a very wide smile and she continued "We can talk and then watch a movie"

And that's what the two of you did, she opened up, you opened up and it was like a perfect match in heaven, so many similar interests and voiced options about opposite views, it was really everything the both of you wanted.

Present

Your heart dropped at the result in front of you, it was positive. It was fucking positive!

The excitement washed over as the anxiety disappeared, this is what you wanted, this is what the both of you wanted. Natasha couldn't have kids of her own which wasn't an issue so when you suggested it to her, she was head over hills with the idea.

Now here you are, jumping around in the bathroom with the stick in your hand, you felt so happy, the nights of crying that you would spend with Natasha holding you tight, overthinking that there was something wrong with you; No you were convinced there was something wrong with you even if Natasha reassured you that were wasn't, that doubt lingered.

Now it was time to tell Natasha, you was anxious because for the past year of trying, you saw that Natasha lost hope, she tried her best to hide it but you knew better. It did hurt you slightly but you hoped for the both of you.

You looked at your phone and there was no message from Natasha, she would usually message you saying she would come back home early but you knew her job, you both agreed that whilst trying for a baby, you wont work and if a miracle happens she will quit her jobs for the time being.

You sighed a little with disappointment at no message but at the moment you didn't care, you was pregnant which was something you always dreamed off, you have a perfect family and now that Natasha is in your life, you are more than sure that she is the only person you would want to do this with.

You practically spent all night waiting for her, she sometimes managed to even come the next day home or even after three days but you didn't care, you would go to them if that meant telling Natasha first, it would be hard to keep the excitement in front of the team.

The front door opened as you jumped up and waited with a sad smile across your face, which was the first thing Natasha noticed when she walked through the door, she rushed to your side as she dropped her things.

"What's wrong?" Her eyes scanned your body for any injuries but when she noticed nothing wrong, she asked again "Is everything okay, Моя любовь (my love)"

You looked at her, even though you wanted to prank her, you couldn't keep it in anymore. You smiled widely which only confused the Russian "Y/n?"

You placed your hands on the back of her neck and she placed her hands on your hips, pulling you slightly closer. You pulled her into a kiss and instantly slipping your tongue inside her mouth causing a sigh to escape the redhead.

Her hands landed on your ass as she squeezed them but felt something in your back pocket, she frowned as she pulled the plastic out and pulled away from the kiss, staring into your eyes and finally looking down at the thing in her hands.

Her eyes looked up at you so fast as her heart started to beat so fast in her chest "Baby what is this?"

You smiled again but this time you actually spoke "I'm pregnant.."

The smile that you fell in love with, spread so eagerly across Natasha's face "Are you serious?" You nodded as you watch Natasha's eyes fill with tears.

She pulled you into a tight hug as she buried her face in the crook of your neck, you giggled slightly at her reaction, but hugged her back with the same affection.

"Finally, we are a complete family" She spoke against your neck.

"In secret?" You questioned her which she unglued herself from your neck.

She shook her head with a huge smile "No, not anymore, first thing tomorrow we will tell the team but for now I'm going to show you how much this means to me"

Before you could protest against that, she already had you pinned against the couch in the living room, you'll never get over the way she makes you feel.

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

She was the woman of her word, she woke you up with breakfast and after that, the both of you made your way towards the tower, the team was already waiting as Natasha asked them to meet her there.

They all were pretty anxious to why the Russian wants from them at this hour, when the two of you walked inside, the first person who squeaked without you even saying anything was Wanda.

She run up to you and hugged you tightly but with caution, Natasha raised her brow perfectly at Wanda but shook her head when she understood what just happened. Wanda was your best friend and even if you didn't tell her about your secret relationship with Natasha, she always suspected something but never wanted to invade your privacy.

The team on the other hand were confused and that was very visible, Wanda let you go as Natasha took a deep breath and looked over at you with a small smile, then back at the team "Y/n and I have been in a relationship for the past 4 years"

Wanda squeaked again as the team stared at the both of you with the most dumbfound look anyone could witness, Natasha continued "And we are expecting-"

"What!" Steve stood up and raised his eyebrows as he looked from you to Natasha.

You felt a little shy as you looked at Natasha, she knew Steve had a thing for you, he would always try to ask you out but Natasha always discouraged him so he ended up leaving you alone.

He stood up "The amount of times you told me she wasn’t interested! You never asked her because you been screwing her"

You looked at Wanda who narrowed her eyes at him so you spoke up "What are you talking about?"

He looked at you with a soft gaze "Y/n I have been trying to take you out on a date for couple years"

You narrowed your eyes at Natasha when she looked over which made her look away quickly, you looked back at him "Why did you ask Natasha to do it for you?"

Natasha looked at you confused a little, making him speak up "I tried but when I did, she simply said you never was interested in relationships"

You looked over at her again with a small smile "Well she was right, it was her who I always been interested in.."

Natasha had a smug smile across her lips, he huffed in irritation and walked out, leaving the rest of the team to react opposite to him, they all gathered around, congratulating the two of you, Tony even promised to buy everything for the child which you were very grateful for.

You looked over at Natasha, and hugged into her side as she spoke to her team, you closed your eyes at the sound of her laughter, she landed you a kiss on the forehead, making you look up at her with a smile as her hand rubbed your back.

She was the family you always have wanted...

[snoopdoodle]

Tell Him Later // pt. 2

 FIRST PART -  Part 1

platonic!Tony Stark x male!reader

pronouns: he/him (not specified in here)

summary: part two of that one writing I had :)

WARNINGS: mention of divorce, mentions of panic attacks

You frowned as the doctor pulled at your hair. She gave you a small ‘sorry’, but it sounded forced, and non-apologetic. She frowned as she tugged at your hair again, causing you to let out a pained cry.  She looked at you annoyed, “Shut it, you did this to yourself.” You frowned at her and went to yell for Tony. She gave another tug to your hair as he wiped it with a towel harshly. “I’m telling you, kid, don’t pull that shit.” She spoke with venom laced in every word. You felt like crying again. Is that your only personality trait? ‘yOu diD tHis tO yOurSeLf’ Yeah, no dip. You were having a panic-attack! You gave an annoyed huff to the woman, frowning at her. Tony came into the room, holding a blanket and a small pillow. 

“Hey, kid, you ok?” He asked, tired as you’ve been in the medic’s room for an hour now. “He’s fine.” She spoke for you, and you sighed and made some tired grabby hands for the blanket Tony held in his hand. He put the blanket in your hands as you unraveled it, before wrapping it around you. Your scalp was just hurting from the towel’s rubbing. Tony smiled and sat down beside you, patting your shoulder. The doctor had walked out of the room, seeing as Tony was there. He was debating to go in for a hug, but he decided ‘fuck it’ and went in for one. His arms wrapped around you and you froze. Everything stilled around you  and your brain stopped. It took a second before you hugged back, tears shedding.

Tony smiled and patted your back as you shifted in his hold. You were on your knees with you face buried in his shoulder. He continued, thinking nothing of it. He didn’t mind the sniffles you gave every once in a while, he didn’t mind how his shirt’s shoulder was wet from your tears. All he could think of was what made you like this? He knew everything wasn’t ok at home from what happened with you, but he was worried about sending you into another panic attack. He decided to go for it. “Hey, Kiddo.. Do you wanna talk about what happened?” He questioned in a soft voice. Your heart sank, but you nodded. You’d have to tell him sooner or later.

“Y-yeah,” you sniffled, “Mom and dad were fighting. Got a divorce. You didn’t show up for our daily shit. And then that Peter kid beat me on the leaderboards. I couldn't handle it anymore by that time.” You summarized as you scooted away from Tony’s hug. The bed squeaked as your back hit the bed stand.  He felt his gut sink and his heart felt like it stopped when you mentioned you all’s daily lab time. He remembered having to go on a small mission with Peter, and seeing how well he did, Tony introduced him to the lab. He told himself everyday that he would go, but he gotten so distracted. His eyes were wide and there was a thought.

 ‘I caused this… not directly, but I was a cause….’

“Sorry..” That was it?! That was what he could muster up?! How weak, You deserve a full apology! Wait, what about your home situation? Are you ok? Do you need to live in the tower? Is it even legal to do that? Oh whatever, he’s Tony-damn-Stark! He can make it happen!- “Tony..? Are you ok? You look like you want to kill something…” You spoke, breaking him out of his thoughts. You looked tired and worried for him. How were you worrying about him at this moment..? You smiled and patted his shoulder, like he would do to you. He looked up, not even thinking about what he wanted to say, before speaking. “You want to live here, kid?” His question threw you in a loop.

You were about to accept his apology, why’d he just throw this at you now?! You nodded quickly, knowing your home situation was bad. Tony smiled and hugged you  again, he pulled away before you could hug back and looked at you, “Ya’know, you can call me dad now, right?” He spoke as a joke, but you nodded and laughed. “Ok, dad.” The way the words rolled off your tongue made him smile. Hey, you told him, and look at what came of it. You have the coolest dad in the world.

[watchmegetobsessed]

REMINDER

a/n: i’ve had this idea on my mind all weekend and finally got around to write it! just a short little oneshot of Bucky finally realizing he should make his move 😌

pairing: Bucky X Reader

warnings: blood, gunshot

word count: 3.7k

masterlist

(gif is not mine)

Bucky hated Tony’s luxurious parties, but as part of the team, he could just never avoid them, someone always came into his room and forced him to join the others, telling him it would be so much fun. It was never. He doesn’t even know what he would find fun anymore, having his life back after all these torturous years, it’s hard to find what brings him happiness, but schmoozing with Tony’s friends and the team and all the agents is just not his cup of tea. He would rather hide in his room, read a book or catch up with whatever show he has been watching lately.

The night he met you was a similar one. Steve was the first one to drop by his room, trying to convince him to get dressed and join the rest of the team for a drink, but Bucky resisted until his friend gave up and left, but then came Natasha. She just always knew how to play the strings to make him do what she wanted. After a bit of persuasion he finally agreed to make an appearance, though he made it clear he wouldn’t be there too long.

After changing into a pair of dark jeans and a black long sleeved shirt that hid his metal arm quite well, he made his way to the party, already feeling grumpy that he had to socialize. It was just like the last time. He got himself a drink, talked a little to Steve, then Banner and Nat and then hid in the corner of the room, avoiding any new faces, not in the mood to introduce himself. He was about to sneak out and go back to his room finally when he first saw you.

You were a relatively new agent in the tower. Having only been there for a few weeks, you didn’t have the chance to meet Bucky since he was on a mission up until a few days ago. You were a bit of a social butterfly, it didn’t take you too long to make friends in the Tower and you found yourself getting the closest to Wanda for some reason.

When Bucky saw you that evening you were talking to her near a high table, nursing a drink in your hands. You wore a white, tight dress that made it no secret how much all the training had helped to form your body through the years. He couldn’t hear your voice, but when he saw your smile, he swore his heart skipped a beat.

Your eyes caught his gaze lingering on you and he quickly turned away, feeling his cheeks growing hot, as if he was a kid caught red-handed of something troublesome. Bucky hoped you didn’t notice it or that he didn’t cross any lines, asking for another drink for himself he was planning to chug the whole thing down and then leave before he could embarrass himself any more. What he was not expecting was you making your way towards him to introduce yourself to the man you’d only heard about, but hadn’t met. He was so busy with making up his plan about how to escape and then thanking his drink to the bartender, that he didn’t even notice you approaching him. So when he turned to the left and was about to walk away he bumped right into you, some of his vodka soda spilling to your dress, making it stick to your skin on your thigh.

“Oh shit, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t—I wasn’t looking, I’m so so—“

“It’s alright,” you chuckled, shrugging your shoulders as you grabbed a few napkins from the bar to soak up some of the wetness.

“I totally ruined it, right? I’ll buy you another dress or pay for this one, I’m so sorry,” he kept rambling, feeling like a total idiot.

“It’s just a dress,” you smiled at him warmly. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, it’s… it’s a pretty dress,” Bucky found himself saying and when he saw your eyebrows raising, he almost wanted to take it back.

“I’m afraid we haven’t met before. I’m Agent Y/L/N and you must be Sergeant Barnes,” you smiled at him, holding out a hand for him that he took and delicately shook.

“Just… call me Bucky,” he nodded with a shy smile and that was the start of something new in his life.

He found himself bumping into you all the time, in the controlling room, the gym, the kitchen, you were everywhere. Though it might not had been that coincidental, Bucky found himself learning your routine pretty fast and made his own schedule according to that. He couldn’t help it, you were the sweetest and most beautiful creature he had ever seen and he found himself being drawn to you. And you didn’t mint it, not even a bit. A special bond started to form between the two of you, movie nights, shared missions, runs around the city, you always had something to do together and Bucky was falling for you more and more with every passing day.

Nat and Steve liked to tease him about his growing feelings, but utterly with the intention of forcing him to make a move finally.

“What are you waiting for, Barnes?” Nat questioned him one afternoon when she caught him eyeing you in the controlling room.

“What are you talking about?” he cleared his throat, pretending like he had no idea, but he wasn’t a good actor.

“Just ask her out.”

“No,” he shook his head, folding his arms on his chest.

“Why not? She has the same heart eyes for you that you have for her,” she rolled her eyes nodding in your way. You were sitting behind a desk, oblivious to the conversation that was happening across the room.

“She is just friendly. That’s all we are. Friends.”

“We are friends, Barnes. You and her? That’s more than that,” Nat pointed it out and he looked in your way, chewing on his bottom lip as he watched you type something out on the computer. As if you could feel his gaze on you, you looked up, eyes meeting his and a warm smile tugging on your lips. Bucky could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, just like every time you looked at him with those bright eyes of yours.

He couldn’t bring himself to make an actual move. He was always so afraid you’d reject him and the friendship you shared was one of the most important things in his life. He didn’t want to risk losing it. Besides, he always thought he would have time to figure out what to do. Even if he decided to confess to you, he couldn’t just do it out of the blue, he needed time which he thought he had. It was up until the two of you went on a mission together and it didn’t go according to plan.

You were supposed to stay together during the raid, but you convinced him to split up when you started chasing some bad guys and they parted ways.

“It’s going to be fine, Bucky. You go that way and I’ll meet you by the jet, alright?” you told him before running off the other direction. He wanted to go after you, not let you go alone, but he didn’t listen to his instinct.

Now he is running through the maze of hallways after you asked for help through the com. Natasha is on her way too, but she is way farther from your location than he is.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” he calls out, trying to find the right way. Gunshots are heard outside and Tony makes some stupid joke about Steve, but Bucky ignores it, he just wants to hear your voice.

“Yeah, but I’m out of bullets, hurry—“

A series of gunshots rips through the com and he hears your painful grunt, the sound of your whimper turning his blood cold right away.

“Y/N! Y/N what happened?!” he shouts, speeding down the hallways leading to the place where you’re supposed to be according to your tracker.

“I got—Shit I got shot,” you groan, the end fading out as your voice breaks.

He bursts through the double door and immediately sees the man that most likely shot you, holding up his gun Bucky shoots him in the chest so fast the guy didn’t even have time to aim at him.

“Y/N!” he calls out, frantically looking for you.

“Bucky!” he hears your faint voice coming from behind a desk. He sprints to you, kneeling down next to you and horror shakes through his whole body when he sees the relatively big pool of blood around you as you try to push your hands to the wound on your thigh. “I think… I think it grazed an artery,” you faintly tell him, a few tears rolling down your cheek.

“Fuck, no, no, stay with me, okay? You’re gonna be fine!” he tells you, ripping off the sleeve of his shirt, wrapping it around your leg as tight as possible to try to stop the bleeding. “Y/N was shot, she is losing blood rapidly. We need to get her out now!” he demands through the com while you are slowly losing your consciousness. “Don’t fall asleep, alright? Stay with me! Talk to me!” he begs you as he cradles you into his arms and heads out to the jet.

“I can’t…” you breathe out, your head falling to his shoulder as he carries you in bridal style.

“Of course you can. And you will. You are not dying on me, understood?”

“It’s not like… I have a choice,” you tell him with a faint smile, your eyes slowly closing.

“Y/N, don’t fall asleep! Just hang in there a little longer!”

He makes it out of the building, Natasha and Steve joining him on the way, the jet already waiting for them. You try to keep your eyes open, Bucky keeps asking you questions and doesn’t leaves you until he hears an answer.

“This was not how I imagined my death,” you mumble, lying on the floor of the jet as it takes off, heading back to the Tower where Dr. Cho is already waiting for you.

“It’s not that, Y/N, that’s not happening now. Just stay with me okay?” Bucky begs you, holding your hand in his while Natasha works on your leg, trying her best to keep you from losing any more blood.

“So eager to keep me alive, hmm?” you smile, eyes dropping closed, but Bucky squeezes your hand, making you to look at him.

“Of course. I still owe you a new dress, don’t I?” he tries to joke, but you don’t answer. You lost your fight and let yourself lose consciousness as Bucky keeps calling your name over and over again, but you never answer him.

The next twenty-four hours is a blur to both you and him as well. For him because he refuses to leave your side once you are out of Dr. Cho’s hands, he stays sitting on the uncomfortable chair by your bed no matter what as members of the team drop by every once in a while. And for you because you keep drifting in and out of consciousness, but you’re never strong enough to actually open your eyes, you only hear voices. Mostly Bucky’s.

One time you hear him talking to Steve, their voices sound distant, but you can understand the words clearly.

“I shouldn’t have let her go alone,” Bucky mumbles under his breath.

“It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known this would happen,” Steve tries to convince her, but it sounds like Bucky is too stubborn to listen to his friend.

“We were supposed to stay together. It was my fault.”

You want to protest. You want to tell him it was none of his fault, but you can’t bring yourself to speak and the darkness pulls you in again, cutting you off of the world. Next time your mind wakes up, you hear Natasha’s soothing voice.

“Why don’t you go and sleep a little? I’ll stay with her,” she offers and that’s when you feel a warm hold on your left hand.

“No,” Bucky answers from beside you. “I’m staying, but thanks.”

“Alright, are you hungry then? I can bring you something.”

“I’m fine,” he answers shortly and you can tell just from his voice that he is so broken, beating himself over what happened. But once again, you are not strong enough to speak and you fall back asleep again.

But the third time you wake up you can actually bring yourself to open your eyes. The bright neon lights are a little blinding, so you need to blink a few times before you get used to them. It takes a couple of seconds to take in your surroundings and then your eyes fall on the sitting form next to your bed.

Bucky is reading a book you gave him a few weeks ago, it’s the first Hunger Games, you thought he would like the story a lot and judging from how far he is in it, he really does. He is so lost between the lines that he doesn’t realize that your eyes opened.

“Bucky?” you call out, your throat feels as dry as a desert and his blue eyes immediately snap at you, putting the book aside as he leans forward to grab your hand gently in his again.

“Hey! You’re awake! How are you feeling?” he asks you, brushing a strand of hair out of your forehead.

“Like shit,” you chuckle, making him smile as well, but his eyes still hold a lot of pain from seeing you like this. “I’m thirsty.”

“Here.” He grabs a bottled water from the bedside table and pours some into a paper cup, helping you drink it and you feel like you were reborn.

“Thanks. What… How long have I been out?” you ask, pushing yourself up a bit so you’re leaning against the headboard.

“A little over a day. Dr. Cho said it could take you a few days to wake up after all the blood you lost.”

Now that he has brought it up, you realize that your thigh is wrapped up, a constant, blunt pain gripping your nerves. You push the white covers off of yourself so you can take a look at the slightly bloody bandages hugging your leg. You already know it will leave a nasty scar on you.

“I should have been there,” Bucky speaks up seeing you eyeing your leg. You look at him shaking your head.

“No. You couldn’t have known and I was the one who told you to go the other way. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I could have just told you no. I should have.”

“Bucky, stop,” you breathe out, gripping his hand tight in your hold. “You brought me out of there, practically saved my life. If anything I should be thanking you.”

“But I shouldn’t have let it happen in the first pla—“

“Shut up, Sergeant,” you chuckle softly. “I’m still here, aren’t I? Isn’t that all that matters?”

Bucky’s face softens as he stares back at you nodding shortly. He can’t even describe how thankful he is to hear your voice again, the silence in the room was like torture for him, watching you lie on the bed completely still and there was nothing he could do to help you. But now he has you back and this whole fiasco made him realize that he doesn’t have all the time in the world with you.

Your recovery is faster than expected thanks to Helen’s amazing work. Two days after you woke up you are dismissed and you are back in your own room. Bucky has been by your side all along and you had to send him back to his room during the night because he wanted to sleep in that uncomfortable chair again. Eventually you convinced him to get some sleep but he was already in the room when you woke up in the morning. Now that you are out of medical care he is still following you like a little puppy, ready to do anything you need help with.

“You know, I just have to use my clutch for a few more days, but I’m totally fine,” you chuckle when he helps you put your stuff away arriving back to your room while you lie down.

“I know, but I want to help,” he smiles, nodding shortly. “And… I have something for you,” he then adds with a boyish smile.

“A surprise?”

“An ‘I’m glad you didn’t die during mission’ surprise,” he smirks, making you chuckle. He shuffles out of the room and then returns with a baby blue paper bag in his hands. Walking over to the bed he sits to the edge handing the gift to you.

“When did you have time to buy it? You never even left my side,” you ask with a suspicious look.

“Nat helped me a little,” he admits with a nervous chuckle. You dig into the bag and your fingers find a soft material, making you gasp before you could even see the item. You just already know what it is. Pulling out you’re staring at a white dress, similar to the one you wore at the party the two of you met officially. The one he spilled his drink on and promised to buy a new one.

“Bucky, you shouldn’t have,” you breathe out, eyes softening at the man who is now eyeing you with a gentle look, clearly feeling shy and nervous about the gift.

“I don’t know if you remember it but when we were in the jet I told you I still owe you one,” he explains as you lay the fabric across your legs, smoothing your hand over the silky fabric as you smile to yourself.

“I do remember that. Actually, that’s the last thing I remember.”

“I wanted to keep my word,” he mumbles under his breath.

Pushing yourself up from the bed you are about to head into the bathroom when he stops you in panic.

“Where are you going?” he asks, clearly wanting you to return to bed.

“I’m gonna try it on, don’t you want to see me in it?” you ask coyly and you see his cheeks blushing at your question before he just nods shortly.

It’s a little challenging to put it on, but you manage to succeed, walking out with your clutches, bare feet and your hair in a messy ponytail, but still, Bucky’s breath gets caught in his chest when he sees you. Suddenly, you feel self-conscious about the way you look, especially with the ugly bandages on your thigh that peek out from under the dress. Stepping to the mirror next to your dresser you take a look at yourself, expression hardening when you see that the scar will probably be seen from under most of your dresses once it’s healed. You try to tug the dress down a little to hide the bandage, but there’s no use, it’s showing no matter what.

Bucky realizes what you’re doing and stepping closer to you he takes your hand that’s fumbling with the fabric and keeps it between his palms.

“All my previous battle wounds are hidden somewhere, but this one will be on full display,” you whisper sadly, eyes dropping to the floor. Bucky cups your cheek in his hand and makes you look up into his eyes with a soft smile on his lips.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I know, I just…” you sigh, not even sure what you wanted to say.

“You know, in a way this…” He starts, brushing his fingers through the bandage gently. “This is going to be a reminder for me.”

“A reminder?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Because I always thought I have all the time in the world with you, but I almost lost you. And I don’t want to waste any more time.”

His hands find your waist, pulling you into his embrace as your palms slide up his arms to the base of his neck. You are both so nervous to be this close without sparring, your heart is beating so fast, he can probably hear it, but he feels the same way.

“If you think of me as just a friend, now might be the best time to tell me,” he whispers with a soft chuckle that makes you smile too. You lean closer, your nose touching his, lips almost brushing against each other.

“You are so much more than that,” you breathe out before he closes the gap between the two of you, kissing you the way he wanted to so many times before.

It’s like the rest of the world stops existing, there’s only you and him, his lips on yours, fingers digging into your waist, flesh and metal ones as well, bunching your dress under his touch as you press up against him, your kisses growing hungrier with each passing moment.

When it’s just about to get a little more heated, someone clears their throat and you are forced to snap back to reality, seeing Steve and Nat standing at the door, watching the two of you grinning widely.

“Just wanted to check on you Y/N to see if you need help with anything, but you clearly have everything you need,” Natasha teases you, making your cheeks heating up as you rest your forehead against Bucky’s shoulder, his arms circling around you tight, hands running up and down your back soothingly.

“Glad to see you finally made your move, Bucky,” Steve nods smirking.

“Alright, alright. The show is over, guys,” Bucky waves them off. Natasha winks at you before leaving the two of you alone.

“We will never hear the end of this,” you growl, your head dropping back, but Bucky just smiles and kisses your forehead sweetly.

“If they keep teasing us we’ll just kick their ass,” he grins making you laugh before you press your lips against his again in a short, chaste kiss.

“Deal.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[pigeonp0st]

Hi I love your fics!❤️

Can I request a WandaxReader where Wanda is still new to the Avengers and so people are still pretty afraid and a little hostile towards her but Reader(a trainee or whatever) is one of the few people who aren’t scared of Wanda and the two end up getting close. Idk if that’s too much or not 😅🤷🏽

Wanda Maximoff x Reader #1

Words: 1,561

Warnings: Food, burn

Notes:

Thank you <3 and thanks for my first Wanda ask! I hope you enjoy. Sorry for all spelling/grammar mistakes ;)

(Imma head to bed now...if I can anyways. I’m super hyper for some reason)

———

There’s a new girl walking around the tower when you come back from your mission. You have to ask Tony to explain everything to you so you can understand why.

Apparently she was their enemy...and then their partner, and now a new avenger. You’re happy to have someone else on the team but everyone else seems...skeptical of her.

They get silent when she walks into a room. They don’t make much of an effort to talk to her, and they’re just all around...petty.

The new girl doesn’t seem to mind though. She just sits still and looks like she’d rather be anywhere else with her eyes darting around the room.

—-

Steve confronts you the day after you try to talk to Wanda during dinner. He warns you that she’s dangerous, and that he doesn’t trust her yet. He says not to become too close to her. The rest of the Avengers agree with him.

You just stare at them in mild disbelief. “Steve,” you tell him, incredibly disappointed in him, and the rest of the avengers, “she has lost everything. She looks lonely and depressed most of the time...how could you—how could you find evil in that?”

Him and the rest of the avengers don’t try and stop you from talking to her after that.

—-

“Train with me, Wanda.”

Wanda looks up from the book she’s been studying with narrowed eyes. “What?”

You grin at her cheekily and hold out a hand, “I wanna kick your ass. You can use your powers.”

Her eyebrow quirks then, surprised and apprehensive, and rightfully so. No one else even considers training with her. “I knew everyone here disliked me but I didn’t think they’d want to…’kick my ass’”

Your eyes widen comically. “I—what—no, no, no, I don’t want to—it’s an expression Wanda I swear, god, of course I don’t want to—I mean I do, but like in a friendly way—”

This, this moment right here is the first time you see her smile. It’s the first time you stop and notice how beautiful Wanda is. It’s the first time making someone else’s smile fills you with such a great sense of accomplishment.

It leaves you unexplainably breathless for a moment.

“I was kidding,” Wanda informs you, taking a hold of your hand and shaking it to seal the deal. It’s the first time you two touch. “I’m going to be the one kicking your ass, Y/N.”

She knows your name. Wanda knows your name. “I’d like to see you try.”

———

Wanda does end up kicking your ass, but she does it gently...if that’s possible. You challenge her again and again after that, only to end up losing each time.

Wanda keeps accepting, even though she looks more and more hesitant each time you ask, like she thinks that maybe this time will be the moment you realize she isn’t worth it. That she’s a monster.

You don’t. You don’t get bitter like she imagined either. You just get up each time with playfulness and a tiny bit of awe and fight again, but you never look at her with fear.

To Wanda, this moment means more than you will ever know. To Wanda, this is the moment she realizes that she wants to keep spending time with you, and that maybe this place won’t be that bad. Maybe she doesn’t have to be miserable any more.

To you, this is where you decide to keep surprising Wanda. Each time you get up again, each time you laugh, every compliment you give to her powers, she lights up just that bit more. You want to be someone Wanda can enjoy.

——

It’s about the fifteenth ass kicking that you decide, breathlessly, that you two try to fight without Wanda using her powers.

Wanda agrees cockily, which is why it’s such a surprise when you manage to knock her flat after the first five seconds.

You laugh loudly at her pout, so hard that your body shakes with it, but you manage to get out, between fits of laughter; “why the fuck were you so confident?”

Wanda rolls her eyes at you and kicks your feet out from under you but you couldn’t care less. You’re too busy laughing, and she joins in after a moment.

When the two of you calm down you turn your head to look at her. Her cheeks are flushed from laughing, and her hair is messy on the ground, but to you; she has never looked more beautiful. She has never looked so happy.

“I’ll train you,” you promise her, offering a smile that’s gentler than you intended.

Wanda nods, suddenly sheepish. “And i’ll train you.”

You remind her softly that you can’t use powers like her, but she smirks at you deviously like she’s already very much aware.

“I was not talking about your fighting skills,” Wanda huffs. “I tried one of the cookies you made the other day...and let’s just say they were not very good.”

The glare you send her way isn’t like the ones the avengers have been giving her—it’s completely playful. “I doubt that you’re baking skills are much better.”

“You will see.”

—-

Wanda is awful at baking you learn. The lesson she tried to give you ended with the kitchen almost burned down and the entire avenger squad rushing into the smoke filled kitchen.

What they come to see is Wanda, covered in flour, glaring at black bundles of ash that were meant to be cookies, and you doubled over in laughter in no less of a state of messiness.

Wanda swats at the back of your head, not noticing the avengers, and you try to hug her consoling despite your laughter.

Thus, the avengers realize with no small amount of amusement, that maybe Wanda can be trusted.

No villain can look that upset over burnt cookies, and no villain can look at someone with that amount of softness.

—-

The avengers warm up to Wanda quickly once they actually start talking to her, but she always clearly prefers to spend her training with you, and she never stops your baking session, even despite how awfully they always go.

You’ve also developed... feelings... for Wanda. It must be obvious to the rest of the avengers but it doesn’t seem to be as obvious to Wanda herself.

At least, you don’t think it is. You don’t think she likes you like that anyways...

Well, not until about your tenth baking lesson with her.

—

She’s grinning at you with the amount of joy you’ve finally become accustomed to seeing on her, and holding out (with her adorable mittens) the first set of non-burnt cookies that you two have ever made.

She looks so accomplished and so smug that you can’t help it. You kiss her. Right there in the compounds kitchen, with flour all around, and sugar in your hairs.

You kiss her and she kisses you back, tasting like your favorite dinner, and hot chocolate on a winter day. Kissing her is like coming home after a long day out, kissing her is like coming up for air after being underwater for much too long, kissing her is like—

“Ow!” You yell, pulling away abruptly and looking down at the red burn mark on your hand.

Wanda stands there blinking for a couple of moments, first at your lips, then at your burn mark, and then at the still hot ban still in her grasp.

When she’s able to snap out of her daze she sets the pan down and hugs you, with your burned hand between your bodies. “Sorry,” Wanda whispers.

“It wasn’t your fault.” It wasn’t. You were just too overwhelmed kissing her to remember the pan she was holding. Speaking of… “would you like—to you know...do that again sometime?”

Wanda releases you from her hug to give you an amused smile. “I’ll do you one better,” she says, cupping your cheek. “Be my girlfriend?”

You certainly weren’t expecting that. “Shouldn’t we at least go on a date first?”

Wanda tilts her head, confused and hesitant. “Haven’t we gone on ten now?”

You gape at her, bewildered. “I—um...I didn’t know...you know what, never mind. Let’s just...you’re my girlfriend now. Okay?”

This was not how you were expecting your day to go, but you're not even close to disappointed because Wanda gives you a beaming smile and nods her head repeatedly before drawing you back in for another kiss.

She pulls away after a moment. “I know they weren’t dates, but they might as well have been now, right?”

You wonder if everything you say to each other is going to be a question, and whether or not she’s doing this on purpose.

“Right.”

“Cool.”

“Cool,” you agree, rolling your eyes playfully. “Wanna treat my hand for me now that this is all settled, and since you're the one who burned me?”

“You said that wasn’t my fault!” Wanda huffs.

“Yes, well now that I want something from you it is.”

“Ah, I see. That’s how it works.”

“Yep.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

You flick her gently between the brows with your non-injured hand. “Stop it.”

Wanda smirks. “Or what, you’ll fight me about it? Do you think it’ll be your first win?”

“Dickhead.”

“Very professional, Y/N. Very professional.”

[cherienymphe]

At Your Service (Peter Parker x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, DUB-CON, AGE GAP, escort!Reader, jealous!Peter, loss of virginity (m.), mentions of Tony x reader, basically porn with a plot

!!! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !!!

➥ { page breaks done by @writeyourmindaway​ }

summary: with Tony Stark being a regular of yours, you’re surprised to find that it’s not him you’ll be servicing, but instead the boyish brunette at his side. Tony wants you to make Peter’s 21st birthday special, and you do just that, but what is just a job to you quickly becomes more for Peter.

~

The bass of the music was cut off entirely as he closed the door, and you took the time to gaze around the spacious studio. It was dark and neat, the far wall made up entirely of windows giving it a modern look, but there was an air of boyish quality to it that made your lips quirk upwards just a tad. The boy -young man, you corrected- was younger than you, but that made him no less handsome, and seeing as he was clearly a good friend of Tony’s, Tony wanted to give him the best.

That was where you came in.

“Shit-! I…I’m sorry. I didn’t even think to ask did you want anything to drink?” he stuttered out, rubbing his hands on his dark slacks.

His nervousness was evident, and you bit back an amused smile as he fought to hold your much more confident gaze.

“No, thank you, but maybe you do…?” you said, tilting your head and raising an eyebrow.

He paused at your light tease before letting out a soft laugh.

“Yeah? Maybe I do,” he agreed, stumbling to the fridge on the other side of the room.

It was clear he was overwhelmed with the options before him, and you got the impression that his impressive stock was not his doing. Your heels clicked along his wood floor as you approached, and you pointed at a red wine.

“I personally like that one,” you told him.

He threw you a sheepish ‘thanks’ before choosing it and setting to work on getting it open. You watched as he poured himself a glass, quickly downing it in one go. You spoke when he started to pour another, hands shaky, and you worried he’d ruin his white button down.

“You know…we don’t have to do anything,” you told him.

His dark eyes snapped to yours, glass halfway to his mouth. He blinked, slowly lowering it to the counter as he gazed at you, relief swimming along his features.

“We don’t?” he breathed, shoulders lowering.

You chuckled, unable to help yourself as you shook your head, pressing your hands onto the counter.

“We don’t. Tony already paid me for the whole night, so honestly…? We could just…talk. I mean…I don’t know anything about you.”

You suddenly blinked, brows furrowing.

“I don’t even know your name,” you said, more to yourself than him.

When you showed up here, all you knew was that Tony had hired you for the night, and seeing as he was a regular of yours, you had been surprised that he would not be your client. He had pointed to the nervous looking young man on the other side of the room and told you that you would be showing the kid a good time, make his night.

“Make him as happy as you make me,” Tony had said.

The rest of the attendees, most of them familiar faces and the rest you assumed were coworkers not on the team, were none the wiser as you had approached the brunette, telling him to lead the way. They’d been too preoccupied with each other or their drink as he walked you up the stairs, but Tony had been ever watchful, heat rising to the unnamed man’s face as the older one saluted him with a drink.

“Peter,” the dark-haired man informed you, and you smiled.

You stuck your hand out, and he hesitantly took it. His hands weren’t as soft as you expected, surprising you.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Peter. I’m Y/N,” you told him.

You watched as he repeated the name to himself, and you turned away to walk around the space. The party, or whatever it was, was still going on downstairs, but the upstairs was a studio style loft apartment. You walked past the couch and approached the windows. You could hear Peter behind you, his steps soft.

“Why do I get the feeling I waltzed into a birthday party?” you suddenly wondered, and Peter chuckled.

“You kinda did. I turn 21 today…”

You spun to face him, a bit stunned, but you eventually threw him a blinding smile. You suspected that he was younger than you, but you would have never guessed by that much.

“Well, happy birthday, Peter.”

He blinked, shaking himself out of whatever stupor he seemed to be in before thanking you. He suddenly swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck as he eyed you.

“You can take off your shoes if you want. You know…get comfortable…”

You smiled to yourself at the nervous look on his face, and you finally decided to comment on it as you stepped out of your heels. You noticed the way his eyes lit up as he took in your true height.

“You don’t have to be so nervous, Peter. What, never spent a night with someone like me before?” you lightly teased.

He didn’t join in as you chuckled, and he suddenly looked embarrassed. You soon found out why.

“I’ve…I’ve never spent the night with anyone…before,” his voice was quiet by the time he finished talking, and your eyes widened.

You looked him over, stunned once again, before blinking. Now things were starting to make a lot more sense, and you wondered what it was with men and rights of passages. Surely, Tony wanted this young man to share his first sexual experience with someone he cared about and not some stranger who is literally getting paid to do it?

“Oh,” you said in surprise, suddenly feeling guilty. “…and here I am teasing you about how nervous-.”

“No, please don’t feel bad! Please,” he begged, nearing you.

You sent him a small smile, and he reluctantly returned it.

“Why didn’t you say anything? I would’ve been a lot nicer,” you whispered.

Peter shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets as he did so.

“You would’ve found out eventually. Besides, why would I? It’s embarrassing,” he said, making you frown.

“Don’t say that,” you told him, shaking your head. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Peter.”

He scoffed, jaw clenching as he frowned at you.

“I’m 21, and I’ve never seen a girl naked. The guys on the- well, the guys…they never stop teasing me about it,” he grumbled, looking out the window.

“Fuck them,” you said, and Peter chuckled. “I didn’t have sex until I was 26.”

He whipped his head around to face you, eyes wide as he took in your confession. You watched the way he ran them over you, shaking his head.

“No way,” he breathed in disbelief.

You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“What? You think because I make money entertaining men that means I came out of the womb ready to-.”

“No, no,” he hurried to explain. “That’s not what I meant at all.”

He eyed you again, his perusal not so quick now as he slowly traced every curve that your dress did little to hide, eyes darkening ever so slightly. You were surprised to find that you liked that, stomach twisting, and you fought the urge to squirm.

“I just mean…look at you,” he whispered, eyes meeting yours. “You’re gorgeous.”

You’d heard that from many men before, all of them sincere in their assessment, but there was something about the way Peter said it that made your heart flutter. He stated it like it was a universal truth, like he believed it more than he believed anything else in the world. You swallowed and turned to look out of the window, eyes trailing over the skyline.

“I still have to say yes to offers and…I simply didn’t want to. Like I said, lack of experience is nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He gave an unsure chuckle.

“Tell that to the guys,” he murmured.

You suddenly smirked before turning to face him, surprised to find his gaze still on you.

“Whether or not we do have sex tonight, you can always lead them to believe that we did.”

He blinked at you, and you shrugged.

“Brag about how your first time was with a woman who made you come 4 times in one night and gave you head that made you see stars. Then you can ask them what their first time was like, and I guarantee you they’ll shut up,” you continued.

Peter’s smile matched your devious one, and you both laughed as you looked away.

“They were all probably bumbling teenagers who came in under 40 seconds and sent the poor girl home sorely disappointed and unsatisfied,” you remarked, rolling your eyes. “Pants around their ankles and all…”

You could feel his eyes on you as he laughed, and you turned to look at him. Peter didn’t look 21. That wasn’t to say that he looked that much older, but there was a hardness to his face that gave away life experience and even wisdom that most 21-yearolds didn’t possess. You certainly hadn’t at that age, but there was a sparkle in his eye, an eager gleam that gave him away though, that revealed his true age.

As if reading your thoughts, Peter suddenly spoke.

“How old are you?”

You smirked at him.

“I just turned 36,” you proudly answered, and Peter blanched.

He shook his head, a disbelieving laugh escaping him as he flitted his eyes over you again.

“You don’t look it at all,” he said, and you scoffed.

“Do you think we just keel over and die the minute we turn 35? 36 is still young,” you tsk’d, tapping your finger against his nose.

Your smile fell when he hurried to grab your wrist, hold firm as he halted your movements. He pulled you towards him, and you stumbled as you tripped over your feet, taken aback by his strength. His face was so close to yours, and you could smell the cologne he’d put on that morning.

“That isn’t…that isn’t what I meant,” he quietly replied.

You breathed him in and watched as he darted his tongue out to swipe it over his bottom lip. A dark strand of hair kissed his forehead as his eyes flitted between your wide ones.

“I just meant that I have an aunt. She practically raised me, and she’s not that much older than you, and…,” he trailed off, eyes lingering on your collarbone and lips as he looked you over again, voice lowering. “You don’t look anything like her.”

Despite the way your heart raced, you gathered yourself enough to speak.

“Well, I’m relieved to hear that I don’t remind you of the woman who raised you,” you joked.

Peter didn’t laugh with you, and your heart skipped a beat when he took his free hand and raised it to your shoulder. His fingers danced along your skin as it slid to your collarbone before gliding to the back of your neck, fingers twisting into the hair at the nape of it.

“Can I kiss you?”

You gave a slow nod, watching as he seemed to consider something. He licked his lips again, and softly brushed them along yours. Your stomach flipped, the feeling surprising you because Peter was just another client. He was no different from Tony or anyone else, so why did the taste of him have your eyes falling closed of their own accord?

He pulled back, nose brushing yours, and before you could open your eyes, his mouth covered yours in a hungry kiss. You moaned against his lips, unable to help yourself, because while Peter lacked experience in bed, he knew how to take your breath away. Both of his hands were on your neck now, tilting your head to accommodate him, and you had no choice but to follow as he moved back.

You gasped into his mouth when he suddenly spun you, understanding dawning on you when he pressed his hands onto your shoulders. You lowered yourself to his bed, looking up at him and preparing for what you thought he wanted, only to be surprised when he fell to his knees before you.

“W-what are you-?”

“I’ve only done this once,” he said, sliding his hands along your legs and underneath your dress. “…but she really seemed to enjoy it so…”

You watched him as he dragged your underwear down your thighs, carelessly tossing them over his shoulder. You were taken aback by the hungry look in his gaze, heat coiling in your stomach as you realized what was about to happen. He looked at you, face serious, and you blinked, shaking yourself out of whatever daze you seemed to be in. He looked at you like he was waiting, and hesitantly, you laid down.

You swallowed, eyes on the ceiling as he spread your thighs, pushing them towards you as he lowered. You could feel his breath on you, and you involuntarily clenched. It was crazy how long you’d been doing this, and yet, you couldn’t remember the last time a client made you feel so…nervous. There was no more time to think about that because Peter’s tongue tasted you, and you jerked, stomach clenching just before he dove in.

You sharply inhaled as he swirled his tongue around you, lips sucking on your lower ones, and you reached out to twist his bedding in your hands. He moaned against you, the feeling seeming to vibrate throughout your entire body, and you let out a broken moan too. One of his hands let you go, sliding along the bed until it found yours. He placed it on his head before gripping your thigh again, and you did the same with the other as well.

The feel of your fingers in his hair seemed to spur him on, and your eyes rolled as he laved his tongue against you. You could see why some unnamed girl who he was with enjoyed this, and you bit your lip when he slid a finger inside of you. It wasn’t hard to tell that Peter aimed to please, and you hissed when he curled his finger inside of you, pushing another into you. It wasn’t long before you were coming undone on his tongue, and he licked at you like a man starved.

His face was wet when he rose, and chest still heaving, you reached out to pull him into a kiss. You could feel him smile against your lips, and you supposed that he earned the right to be smug. His eyes flittered between yours when he pulled away, face flushed as his chest heaved. You opened your mouth to speak when his hand came up to your chin, his fingers running over your lips and smearing what was left of your lipstick.

“Show me…,” he whispered, voice trailing off as he brushed his nose along yours. “Show me how to touch you. How to make you feel good…”

Heat settled into the pit of your stomach as his words hit you, and you laid your hand on his chest. You couldn’t recall ever hearing those words from anyone before. With your profession, most, if not all of the men were hellbent on impressing you. They knew you had other clients, so they were all determined to be your favorite by experimenting, trying out new moves, and even bringing things into the bedroom they’d seen someone use in some crappy porn video.

Every single one of them was always too focused on what you thought of them. Their build, their hands, their stamina. Sure, they wanted to make you come, but at the end of the day, it was more for themselves and their own ego than your actual pleasure, and yet…

Here was Peter, this man who could barely be called that at all, this virgin asking you to show him what women liked. What you liked. He wanted to actually listen and learn, and you thought to yourself that he was going to make a wonderful lover, hell even boyfriend or husband someday.

“Okay,” you said, pushing him back, and he allowed you to do so.

His eyes sparkled as he laid down, gazing up at you as you straddled him. You suddenly felt nervous as you started to unbutton his shirt, and you didn’t know why. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d felt nervous. Not even with Tony, because while, yes, he was the great Tony Stark, he was still a man just like any other. When you got Peter’s shirt open, eyes taking in his muscular figure with surprise, it hit you as to why.

Peter’s first experience with sex was going to be with you. What would happen tonight would set the very foundation for his relationship and feelings with sex forever. How he viewed sex from here on out was entirely up to you, and your shoulders felt incredibly heavy all of a sudden. Peter would always remember you, one way or the other. You danced your fingers along his torso, and Peter reached up to grab your hands.

His eyes were heated when you gazed into them, and you watched the way the corner of his mouth curved upwards. His fingers played with yours, and it was only then did you realized they were trembling. He ran his eyes over you, his gaze lingering on the expanse of your neck before he spoke.

“You seem nervous,” he quietly said, and you bit back a smile.

“…would you believe me if I told you I am?”

You pulled on his hands, and he sat up, slipping out of his shirt and watching as you reached for his pants.

“Why?”

You paused to glance at him.

“My first time was great, but I know that isn’t the case for everyone…most people, to be honest, but I don’t want you to be like most people.”

“I couldn’t possibly not enjoy this,” Peter scoffed, and you shrugged, sliding off of the bed to lower to your knees.

Peter’s hands gripped your shoulders before you could undo his pants, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. His jaw was clenched, gaze intense as he looked down at you, and confusion filled you when he pulled you back up.

“While I’m sure you’re great at that, I really want to be inside of you.”

You chuckled at his eagerness, and he pulled you back onto him, hands sliding your dress up.

“I’ve waited 21 years for this…I’m not waiting another minute,” he murmured, peeling the black material off of you.

He sharply inhaled at the sight of your red bra, the lace complimenting your breasts nicely. You had been under the impression that you were going to be with Tony tonight, and you knew the man liked red. You didn’t know how Peter felt about it, but if the way his dark eyes took you in was anything to go by, you’d say he enjoyed the color red too. Or at least enjoyed it on you.

You kissed him, helping him slip out of his pants, and a gasp escaped your lips as he pulled you onto him, his member hard and warm through his boxers. You looked down, smiling at the silk material, and you got the feeling a certain superhero had gotten them for him. Peter’s hands landed on your waist, and you placed your own over them, sliding them up to your chest.

“Some girls like it rough, but when in doubt, be gentle,” you told him, taking in a shaky breath as he brushed his thumbs over you.

Hearing that, he repeated the action, lips finding your collarbone as he did so. Your lashes fluttered as you ground yourself against him, and Peter let out a broken moan. One of his hands moved to your neck to bring you down into a kiss while the other slid to your back. His hand massaged you, repeating his earlier action as soon as your bra was gone while you reached to rid him of the black material hanging on his waist.

You pushed him back to lay down again, your lace briefs the only thing separating you. That didn’t last long as Peter clutched them in his hand, yanking them down, and you helped him do so. Both of his hands were on your neck now, holding you to him as he moved his mouth against yours, a hiss escaping him as you gripped him in your hand. You opened your eyes to watch his face, your own lips parting when his did, a broken moan climbing out of his throat as you slowly lowered yourself onto him.

Your eyes widened at the feel of him stretching you, and they remained on Peter as he felt the same. You were mesmerized, eyes completely focused on the way his pink lips fell open, back arching ever so slightly as he dug his hands into your waist. He moaned when you moved your hips, hands resting on his chest to anchor yourself.

Peter was vocal and, having been with so many men who were afraid to even say your name in bed, you liked that. Heat swirled in your stomach as you rose again and again, sliding down so that you met his thighs with ease. His lashes fluttered, face flushed as you clenched around him. His jaw ticked, eyes flashing with something before he pulled you down into another kiss.

His lips were hungry, and you swallowed his groans as you continued to move your hips over him. One hand was pressing into your back, the other digging into your waist as you felt him move. You gasped as he started to push his hips up into yours, the drag of his cock making your heart skip a beat. A choked moan escaped you, eyes flying open to find his gaze already on you.

“Y/N,” he groaned, lips peppering kisses against your jaw.

The hand on your back traveled to your hair, lightly tugging at the root, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Deep in the fog of ecstasy, you didn’t register what was happening until Peter had completely lifted his hips, uprooting you until the room was spinning and you found yourself on your back. You sharply exhaled as your back hit his bed and gave a surprised chuckle, his strength throwing you off guard once again.

He seemed to be acting on impulse, suddenly unsure, but the determination in his eyes had you wrapping your legs around his waist. That forced him inside of you to the hilt, and he swallowed, jaw clenching. You leaned up to press a kiss to his throat.

“Do what feels right. It’s okay to take your time,” you whispered.

You felt him nod, and you laid back down, gazing up at him as he held himself above you for a moment. He just remained there, eyes unable to stay in one place for long, unsure of where to look. He pressed his hands into the bed on either side of your head, face taut with both hunger and concentration, hips moving back before meeting yours again.

His thrusts were gentle, a far cry from what you were used to, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the feel of him. After a while, he pushed his knees further up, forcing your legs to fall around him as he pushed them back, and you gasped, hand flying to his back while the other twisted into the sheets. You could feel his eyes on you as your back arched, and you spoke before he could.

“Right there,” you breathed.

Peter listened, holding himself there as he pushed into you, and you threw your head back. You heard him curse, and his lips were on your neck moments later. You could feel yourself fluttering around him, and you knew you were close. The thin layer of sweat that clung to him and the strain on his face told you that Peter had been doing his best to hold off on his own climax, and you rushed to press your lips to his.

“Come for me, Peter. Please,” you whispered into his mouth.

Collapsing against you, he did just that, moaning against your lips. Your own legs trembled at the feel of him twitching inside of you, chest heaving as you clenched around him, and your nails dug into his back. He pressed more kisses into your neck, lips trailing along your shoulder as you came down from your high.

You hadn’t even realized how tired you were until he sat up to look down at you. You tiredly blinked at him, smiling as he kissed you again.

“Happy birthday, Peter,” you murmured, but you didn’t hear his reply.

You were already falling asleep beneath him, a first for you, and you felt his lips on yours as you did so.

You collapsed against him as his arms tightened around your waist, and Peter chuckled into the skin of your shoulder as you continued to flutter around him. His own chest heaved, and you pressed your hands into the damp skin of his back, holding onto him as he flipped you both around. As you bounced on the bed beneath him, you thought to yourself that you’d never get used to his strength.

You had taken Peter Parker’s virginity exactly 2 weeks ago, and since then, he’d become something of a regular client of yours. This wasn’t unusual. First time clients normally kept reserving you for days after the first time. Tony himself had paid for 4 more days with you after your first night together, but no one had ever done so for 2 weeks straight. You’d think that with his newfound experience, Peter would take this opportunity to explore. Surely, he had some girl in his life he was interested in. But no, the young man was content to pay for you every night.

You’d come by last night, but Peter had gotten into the habit of waking you up in a way that was hard to hate. The morning after his birthday, you’d taken it upon yourself to wake him up with your mouth on his cock, and he’d been returning the favor ever since. You had a little time before you had to go, and you watched as Peter got up to make his way to the kitchen. You frowned a bit, holding the sheet to you as you watched him search his cabinets.

“What are you doing?”

“Making you breakfast,” he said like it was the most normal thing in the world.

It wouldn’t be the first time, but you didn’t want to make a habit out of it.

“Peter,” you groaned. “Stop that. You don’t have to-.”

“Fifteen minutes,” he pleaded, eyes wide as they met yours, begging you.

You bit your lip at his pleading gaze, eyes sparkling, and you let out a sigh. You nodded, clutching the sheet to you as you made your way over to him. He was beaming by the time you reached him, and you grazed your fingers down his arm.

“Peter, you already pay me for sex. You don’t have to make it up to me by cooking or anything-.”

“I want to,” he interrupted, grinning at you. “…and not just to ‘pay you back’.”

His eyes roamed over your face before pressing his lips to yours.

“You’re amazing. How can I not?” he murmured into your mouth.

“Well, of course I’m amazing. It’s my job,” you replied, hoping to remind him what this was.

You watched as he frowned, face pinching as he shook his head, ruffling his brown hair.

“Don’t…don’t say it like that,” he complained.

“Well, that’s how it is,” you sang, placing a kiss on his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. “This is my job, Peter.”

He sighed, back rising and falling with the action.

“I know,” he sadly said. “…but…when it’s just the two of us…it doesn’t feel like it, you know?”

You did know.

Peter definitely wasn’t the first to say that, but he was the first you agreed with. Peter had a way of making you forget that you were currently working, and that wasn’t exactly a good thing. Getting attached to clients, and vice versa, was highly discouraged for so many reasons, but in Peter’s case, it was expected. He had been a virgin, and he was young, so you expected him to develop some sort of attachment to you, but it had been weeks. You’d give it another or so before his feelings waned.

They were superficial, after all.

After you two ate, you finally got dressed, Peter’s eyes on you the entire time you did so. He walked with you out of his apartment and downstairs, kissing you goodbye. He was reluctant to pull away, but you sent him a parting smile when he finally did.

The only reason Peter hadn’t reserved you for tonight was because of some prior engagement that he couldn’t get out of. At least, that was what he told you, but you had your own suspicions. He was much stronger than he looked, and that coupled with the fact that he seemed to be incredibly close with Tony led you to believe that the man was a hero himself. Of course, you weren’t sure as to who, but it wasn’t a concern of yours. He had an identity to keep, and you understood that.

Being a high-end escort for incredibly wealthy clients paid exceptionally well, and with hours to spare before your next arrangement, you took the time to shower and relax. You hadn’t had many moments to yourself since Peter, and you found yourself absentmindedly smiling as you thought of the younger man.

He was unlike anyone else that you’d ever been with, and that was saying something. Peter was always so eager, and not just for sex, but to please you as well. He’d become quite the impressive lover since that first night, taking all of your advice to heart, and there were moments where you swore he got more pleasure out of seeing you come undone than anything else.

Hours later, when you slipped on your dress and got started on your hair, you wondered to yourself how different tonight would be. You hadn’t been with anyone else but Peter in weeks, and you were sure that your client tonight just wouldn’t compare. You had to get rid of such thoughts, reminding yourself that this was just a job, and it would do no good to start comparing all of your other clients to Peter.

You were in your car and halfway across town when you got a call from your boss, the woman who ran the company you worked for. You answered the call, Bluetooth connected, and her voice filled your car moments later.

“Bad news, Y/N. Your client cancelled,” was the first thing she said.

You frowned, taken aback by that not just because it had never happened to you before, but also because payment was nonrefundable. The company you worked for prided themselves on a guaranteed experience.

“He…canceled? Does he know that-?”

“Believe me, he knows. I asked him several times to make sure, but he insisted that something came up that couldn’t be ignored. I’m guessing a family emergency or maybe even problems with a wife,” she sighed.

You rolled your eyes, lip curling in disgust. A job was a job, but you absolutely despised the married men you had to service, and it always took everything in you to keep a straight face whenever you noticed the tan line on their ring finger.

“Should I keep you available for tonight? We have plenty of girls on call, but its up to you,” she offered, and you sighed.

You were already dolled up and out, but there was no telling when or where your next client would be. You didn’t want to wait around all night nor drive all over town just for an arrangement.

“No,” you said, exhaling. “I guess I’ll enjoy this rare night off.”

She was fine with that, and the car was silent once again as you hung up. You made your way to a restaurant, one of your favorites, telling yourself you’d enjoy a nice night out with yourself. You were grateful that you’d put on a more modest dress, something classy that didn’t attract too much attention as you were shown to a table.

The waitress had just left to get you a bottle of Chardonnay when a shadow fell over you. You didn’t think too much of it, but there was a presence near you that couldn’t be ignored, and you were just about to look up when he spoke.

“Is this seat taken?”

Your eyes were wide as they met familiar dark ones, and your mouth parted in shock.

“Peter! How…?”

You glanced around, confusion filling you.

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugged.

“I told you. I had something I couldn’t get out of, but it was taken care of much quicker than I thought it’d be. I saw you come in and wanted to say hi,” he said with a crooked smile, pushing his hair back into place away from his forehead.

You ran your eyes over him, smiling at the tux he wore, appreciating the way it hugged his frame.

“Well, don’t you look handsome,” you complimented.

His face flushed, and he briefly looked down. How he could still act so bashful around you was a mystery, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t endearing.

“So…? Is this seat taken?” he repeated when his eyes met yours again.

You faltered, at war with yourself.

“No…but… I don’t think its such a good idea,” you told him.

He frowned a bit, and guilt flooded your frame as his shoulders fell.

“Why not?” he quietly asked, genuinely confused.

You sighed, rubbing the side of your neck, and Peter’s dark eyes were drawn to the action.

“You’re my client,” you whispered, glancing around. “We really shouldn’t develop anything outside of that.”

He playfully rolled his eyes.

“It’s one dinner. I’m starving, and you’re starving, and we’re both here…,” he trailed off, and you let out a chuckle at his logic.

He raised an eyebrow at you, a look on his face that told you he knew he had you. With a sigh, you gave a reluctant nod, gesturing to the seat across from you.

“No, it isn’t taken.”

He sat down with a grin, and you noticed the cut on the side of his face, the shallow wound bleeding just a bit. That only added to your suspicions, and you reached across the table with a napkin. He seemed surprised before a sheepish look fell over his face.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“How did you even get past the door?” you wondered, settling into your seat.

His eyes swept over the menu, and he hummed before glancing up at you from beneath his lashes, a smirk dancing along his lips.

“I’m 21, now, remember?”

You nodded with a small chuckle, a smirk crawling over your own lips.

“Of course. How could I forget?”

You both ordered as soon as the waitress returned, and you sipped on the alcohol in your glass as Peter watched you. You looked at him curiously.

“What?”

He shook his head, a soft look on his face as he took in everything from your hair to your lip gloss.

“You just look really pretty,” he said, making your face heat up. “I doubt you got all dolled up to eat alone.”

You set your wine down, straightening just as your food arrived. You finally responded when the woman left.

“No, I didn’t,” you admitted. “I had a client tonight, but he cancelled. A first really, but all the more strange considering we don’t do refunds.”

His eyes were on you as you shrugged, and you watched the way he looked away. Peter didn’t look like himself at all in his sharp tuxedo, dark hair smoothly pushed back to expose his forehead. His pink lips were pursed, jaw clenched as he seemed to be stewing on something. You glanced away just as he looked at you, not wanting to be caught checking him out.

“How many clients do you have?” he wondered, picking at his food.

You hummed.

“Well…if we’re only talking about regulars, including you, that makes 9.”

He bit his lip at that, nodding.

“I see.”

Neither one of you said anything for a while as you both ate, just enjoying each other’s company. You got the feeling that something was weighing on Peter’s mind, but you didn’t want to pressure him into talking about anything he wasn’t comfortable with.

“Is…is Mr. Stark one of your regulars?” he finally asked, face unreadable.

You took a sip of wine before answering.

“He is. Although, I haven’t seen him in weeks thanks to you,” you said with a teasing grin.

He glanced away, doing nothing to hide his smirk. His dark eyes glanced around the restaurant, taking in the nice scenery before he spoke again.

“Are there girls with only one client?”

He seemed to be really interested in your job tonight, but you were more than happy to answer any of his questions.

“Mm…not at my agency. It isn’t unheard of, especially for women like me who deal with more upscale clients who can afford exclusivity, but it isn’t really encouraged,” you said with a shake of your head.

His brows furrowed.

“Why not?”

You sighed.

“Things happen, things can go wrong, and if you lose that client, you basically have to start from scratch with building a clientele. Of course, you’ll get clients, but collecting regulars is how you keep your money consistent.”

Peter hummed at that, nodding in understanding before flagging down a nearby server for another bottle. You tilted your head at him, and he smiled.

“My treat,” he said, and who were you to refuse?

An entire hour had gone by, and you were finally leaving the restaurant. Your arm was looped through Peter’s as you hung onto him, almost wobbling in your heels. You’d had much more to drink than you intended, but fortunately for you, Peter was as sober as a saint.

“This is so embarrassing,” you groaned as Peter walked you outside, and he chuckled.

“I think you’re cute when you’re drunk,” he replied, and you rolled your eyes.

“Of course, you do,” you mumbled, looking around with a frown. “How did you get here?”

You had a feeling he didn’t drive, and Peter simply shrugged as he looked at you, hands on your arms now as you faced him.

“That’s a secret,” was his only reply.

You narrowed your eyes at him, leaning in as your drunk brain took control of your sober mouth.

“You’re one of them…aren’t you? A superhero,” you whispered, and Peter’s grin widened. “You’re much stronger than you look.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Are you complaining?”

You shook your head.

“Definitely not. Although…I suppose that can be a little concerning, but there are no complaints here.”

Your ankle bent as you took a step forward, and you would have gone straight down if it weren’t for Peter. With a smirk, he wrestled your keys out of your hand, holding them tightly in his as he curled an arm around your waist.

“Okay, so I’m obviously driving you home,” he said, and you tilted your head at him.

Your eyes were narrowed, skeptical as you trailed them over his frame.

“Can you even drive?” you mockingly said, but you were also half serious.

It was a genuine question. Peter said nothing as he walked you to your passenger door, depositing you in the seat before buckling you in.

“Watch me,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You pressed your hand to your head as he shut the door, unable to remember the last time you had gotten drunk. It wasn’t a feeling you liked, but Peter was here so you allowed yourself to relax. Your head lolled back as he started the car, and you started to mumble out directions. You found that Peter was a good driver. Hell, maybe even better than you, and you felt more than safe with him behind the wheel, a lighthearted conversation flowing between you two as one of his hands rested on your thigh.

He practically carried you upstairs to your apartment, something about too scared to let you walk. He dropped your keys onto the table next to the door as soon as you were inside, and you stumbled away from him as you dug into your purse for your phone.

“Let me call you a cab to get you home,” you murmured, head spinning a bit.

He didn’t say anything, but you heard him approach you, steps heavy. You suddenly blinked, thinking with a frown.

“…or should I call Tony?” you wondered to yourself before shaking your head. “No, a cab. It’s the least…I…can do…”

Your words got quieter as Peter wrapped his arms around you, swallowing them altogether as he turned you around to face him. His eyes were dark, face entirely serious as he stepped forward, only stopping when your back hit the wall. You looked at him in mild surprise, swallowing when one of his hands came up to grip the back of your neck.

“Peter…”

Your voice trailed off when he leaned in to press his lips to your jaw, trailing kisses down to your neck. Your lashes fluttered, and you pressed a hand to his chest.

“Peter…we can’t,” you breathed.

Getting attached to clients was discouraged, but this? Having sex with any outside of work? That was just plain stupid and asking for a disaster to happen. There was no telling what your boss would do if she found out. Peter slid his leg between yours, thigh brushing against you in a way that had you releasing a shaky breath.

“Sounds like we can,” he hummed, and you shook your head, pushing him away.

“No. If my boss found out-.”

“Then they won’t find out,” he said, pressing his chest against yours, one hand digging into your waist. “Please…”

His eyes glinted with need, and you got the feeling he was barely holding himself back.

“Peter-.”

“If it’s that important to you, I’ll pay you,” he whispered, voice thick with desperation. “I don’t care, just…”

He attached his lips to your neck, pressing his thigh more firmly against you.

“Just let me touch you,” he practically begged.

His mouth found yours again, and you pressed your hand against his chest again, but he wouldn’t budge. The alcohol coursing through your system made your movements slow, and you could only moan as he ground himself against you, holding you in his arms.

“Peter,” you weakly protested as he took a step back, taking you with him.

He ignored you, pressing his back to the wall as he kept you pinned against him, tongue tasting the inside of your mouth. Your purse slipped from your hands, clattering to the floor, and Peter groaned deep in his throat as he lifted you.

You reached out to grab onto the walls as he made his way through your apartment, fingers slipping off of the surface. You gasped when your back met the surface of your couch, Peter’s frame fitting perfectly between your legs. You couldn’t remember who undressed who, but Peter was quick to slip his fingers into you as soon as your underwear were gone, his other hand resting on your neck.

You felt his eyes on you when you finally came around his fingers, unable to swallow down your moans, and Peter’s lips were parted when you looked at him. You watched, transfixed, as he stuck them in his mouth, and you couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or not, but you found that twice as attractive as you normally did.

Eager to be inside of you, Peter wasted no more time before pushing into you with one smooth thrust. You threw your head back as Peter cursed, one hand immediately digging into the arm of the couch beside your head, hips snapping against yours. His other hand grabbed your leg, bending it and pushing it towards your chest, making your lashes flutter.

“Peter,” you murmured, pressing your nails into his chest.

He hummed, leaning down to steal a kiss, groaning when you clenched around him. You couldn’t focus on anything other than the way Peter was pushing himself into you so deliciously, teeth nipping at your lips and fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to bruise. You would think that you hadn’t fucked him in weeks with the way he held you, hips slapping against yours.

When you came around him for a second time, you couldn’t even tell which way was up, face pressed into the couch cushions now as Peter pinned your chest down with a hand on your back, ass lifted to take his unrelenting thrusts. Your breaths only slowed when you felt him pull out, coming on your back as his own labored breathing filled your ears.

Your body felt so heavy, alcohol and fatigue coursing through you, but Peter didn’t care as he stood, pulling you against him. He wrapped his arms around you as he pressed his chest against your back, walking you in the direction of your room.

“Do you have to work tomorrow?” he wondered, lips finding the back of your ear as he placed kisses on your skin.

Your feet tripped over each other, vision blurry as you struggled to stay conscious.

“Not…not until the evening,” you breathed, a broken moan slipping from your lips when his fingers dipped into you.

He laughed to himself, a triumphant sound as he forced you through the doorway.

“Good.”

He kicked the door shut behind him.

It was a windy evening in New York as you hurriedly made your way to Stark Tower. A shiver tore through you as the cool air hit you, and you were thankful when you made it inside. The identification process took only seconds, what with you frequently being here and all. It felt like forever since you’d seen Tony, and you supposed that by his standards, it had been. You usually saw him at least once a week, and you had gone weeks without doing so.

However, the last person you expected to see when entering the building was the one who was the very reason for that. Peter looked just as stunned to see you, and you didn’t know if it was because you were here at Stark Tower or because you hadn’t seen him in about a week. After your drunken night with him, you’d taken it upon yourself to ask your boss to book you with anyone as soon as possible and for as long as possible.

The night you’d spent with Peter had left you so conflicted. Despite the alcohol that had been coursing through your system, you remembered everything. More importantly, you remembered that you hadn’t fallen asleep until 4 o’clock that morning. Your skin still prickled every time you thought about that night, body heating up as you remembered the way he touched you, and that…was not good. Never mind the fact that you shouldn’t have slept with him anyway. So…you needed time away from him to clear your head and try to get your own feelings back on track.

Peter shook his head, blinking as he broke himself out of his stupor before grinning at you. You returned it, although yours wasn’t as bright, but he didn’t seem to mind. He neared you and started to reach for you before thinking better of it and pulling away.

“Hey,” he said after clearing his throat.

“Hey,” you echoed, adjusting your purse over your shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

Somehow, he wasn’t expecting you to ask that, and as he struggled to answer, you were reminded of your suspicions. With a soft chuckle, you shook your head, signaling for him to let it go. You didn’t need an explanation.

“What are you doing here?” he wondered.

“Working,” you said with a sheepish shrug, noticing the way his smile fell a bit.

Peter shoved his hands into his pocket as he nodded.

“Oh. Who-?”

“There you are! I was just about to call because you were supposed to be here-.”

Tony cut himself off as he registered Peter’s presence, slowing down as he neared you both. Peter had turned to look over his shoulder just as Tony had started talking, and you reluctantly stepped past him as Tony reached for you.

“I thought you left, kid,” the billionaire said, brows drawn together.

Peter’s smile was completely gone now as he looked between you two, and you avoided his eyes. For some reason, you felt like you were doing something wrong even though you weren’t. This was your job. You had nothing to feel bad about.

“Yeah, I was-I was just heading out and then I ran into Y/N,” he replied, voice low.

He continued before Tony had a chance to reply, hurriedly backing away.

“I’ll see you later, Mr. Stark.”

He waved you both goodbye, and you followed as Tony pulled you along. The dark-haired man was saying something to you as you neared the elevator, but you didn’t hear a word. You glanced over your shoulder just as the doors slid open, eyes briefly meeting Peter’s dark ones just before Tony pulled you inside.

“You look good,” Tony told you as soon as the doors closed.

You forced a smirk onto your lips, forcing thoughts of Peter away as you leaned against the wall.

“I wish I could say the same. You look like hell,” you teased, and Tony playfully rolled his eyes.

It was a half-truth because aside from the suave suit he had on, he did look more tired than usual. One of the cons of being a superhero you supposed.

“Well, I have you to thank for that,” he complained, and now it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Oh, don’t pout. It’s so unbecoming. I can’t help it that I’m in high demand,” you replied with a shrug.

“Is that what you’d call it?” he wondered, one eyebrow quirked upwards. “I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“…and yet somehow you managed,” you said with a smile.

“Barely,” he mumbled just as the numbers stopped.

He pulled you into his side as you exited the elevator, hand briefly curled around your waist as he gave you an affectionate squeeze. Tony left you to go to the bar, and you shed your coat, sitting your purse down as you glanced around. Tony hadn’t done any redecorating, you disdainfully noticed. His taste was so flashy.

“So…,” he lowly sang, and you turned to face him.

He was raising an eyebrow at you as he fixed you a drink, and you frowned in confusion.

“So what?”

Tony scoffed.

“The kid. His 21st birthday. How’d it go?” he wondered. “I did promise him a night he wouldn’t forget.”

You scrunched your face up, shaking your head as you neared him, heels clicking against the floor.

“First of all, can you please stop referring to him as ‘the kid’? It’s a little weird considering I’ve seen him naked,” you commented.

Tony pulled a disgusted look at that, and you chuckled, happily taking the drink he offered.

“…and second of all…”

You took a sip, smirking at him as another chuckle bubbled in your throat.

“…it’s a little insulting considering he has quickly become my favorite client,” you whispered.

You bit your lip, swallowing down a laugh as Tony froze, looking at you like you’d grown a second head. He looked equal parts shocked and insulted, but you simply shrugged, turning away from him.

“How’d that happen?”

Was it you or did he sound bitter?

“What can I say? Peter’s a fast learner. Plus, he’s just so darn sweet.”

You heard Tony approach you, and he scoffed.

“Are you saying I’m not sweet? Do I not get you flowers and the best food there is?”

You rolled your eyes at him before tilting your head as you heard your phone buzzing. You neared your bag as you answered him.

“Look, Tony, I like you and all, and as far as business goes, you’re a great client, but let’s face it.”

You glanced over your shoulder as you wrapped your hand around your phone.

“…you’re kind of an asshole.”

He grumbled as you laughed, but it died in your throat as you read the text from your boss. Taking note of your silence, Tony commented on it.

“What is it?” his voice was in your ear as you stood, and you blinked as you read the message for a third time, confusion filling you.

“I…have to go,” you told him, but it sounded more like a question.

It took a minute for Tony to register what you said before he blinked a few times.

“…what?”

“I have to go? Apparently, a client offered three times my rate to spend the night with me,” you explained as you slid your coat back on.

“You’re kidding,” Tony spat.

You threw him an apologetic look while you secured the belt around your waist.

“I’m sorry, Tony. I know it’s been a while-.”

“Weeks,” he interrupted.

“I know, I know, but there’s no way my boss was going to turn this down, and therefore, I’d be crazy to do so too. She’s sending one of the other girls over,” you called over your shoulder, hurrying towards the elevator.

You heard him heave an annoyed sigh, and as you faced him, you mouthed ‘sorry’ just before the elevator doors closed. It was cooler when you stepped outside, but your mind was too hung up on who could have possibly paid that much money for a night with you. You read the address one more time, realizing that you were familiar with that hotel before sliding into your car.

It wasn’t too far down the street, and just as your boss said, the room was under your name. It was one of the nicer suites, but it was empty of anyone else, and you frowned in confusion, wondering if you’d gotten it wrong. However, the red lacy garments on the bed told you otherwise. Having already showered before going to see Tony, you got undressed and hesitantly put them on.

Just as you were sitting down and pulling the sheer thigh high tights up your legs, you heard the door open. You briefly froze before glancing up only for your mouth to part in shock. You sat up straight, completely thrown and confused as your eyes met his.

“Peter?”

He simply shrugged at you, and you noticed that he’d changed. He didn’t look anything like the boyish collegian you saw earlier, but instead he reminded you of that drunken night. You ran your eyes over his dark attire, a question on your lips, but he beat you to it.

“I missed you.”

You briefly closed your eyes, letting out a sigh as your shoulders fell.

“Peter,” you started, but he cut you off.

“I know what you’re going to say, but you can’t make me not miss you,” he said, and you crossed your arms over your chest.

He moved to sit down next to you, and you hesitantly looked at him. His dark eyes drank you in, and he suddenly smiled at you.

“…besides, I paid this time.”

You couldn’t hold back your smile, and you shook your head.

“Where did you even get the money-?”

“Don’t worry about it. Come on,” he said, grabbing you and pulling you along with him as he moved up the bed.

You glanced at him, confused, when he pulled you into his arms, your head laying on his chest.

“Did you really pay all of this money and pick out fancy lingerie just to cuddle with me, Peter?”

Your voice was disbelieving, and you swallowed a laughed as he hummed an affirmative.

“…for now, anyway.”

You sighed, listening to his heart beneath his chest. It was beating so fast, and you wondered if you made him nervous.

“You know, Tony’s going to be more upset than he already was if he finds out that you stole me away just to cuddle,” you whispered.

He didn’t immediately respond, and you lifted your head to look at him. His face was unreadable, and he wouldn’t meet your eye, but he eventually sighed.

“Would you…would you ever exclusively see me?”

You frowned at him, rearing back a bit as you fully sat up. You ran your eyes over his face, trying to find the humor, but there wasn’t any. You scooted away from him, and he sighed again.

“Peter…”

“I like you-.”

“No.”

“I do!” he argued.

“You…can’t. This is my job,” you sadly said as you looked at him. “Nothing more.”

He frowned at you, skeptical.

“It is to me.”

You looked away from him, wishing this were a bad dream because this was truly something out of your nightmares. You cursed yourself for being so foolish to think of Peter’s feelings as shallow. You should have anticipated that it would be more.

“It’s more than that, and I know you feel it too.”

He reached for your hand, and you pulled away, moving to stand.

“Maybe…maybe I should go,” you whispered.

“No, no, wait,” he hurried to say, rushing to follow you, grabbing your hand.

You looked down at him, guilt eating away at you at the look on his face, but he blinked, and it was gone. He forced a smile onto his lips as he tilted his head at you.

“I’m sorry. Please stay. Don’t… Don’t go,” he quietly begged.

You swallowed, conflicted, and you glanced at the door.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. I just…”

You watched him as he trailed off, clearly struggling with his words.

“You’re just so…pretty, you know? You’re this gorgeous and experienced woman, and you…you don’t make me feel like me. Like boring Peter Parker-.”

“Peter,” you quietly admonished, face falling at his self-depreciating words.

“I am lame. I keep my head in books and I’m obsessed with science and…”

He pulled you towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his face into your stomach.

“You’re like one of those nymphs I read about in Greek stories that have this otherworldly beauty and they entrance men and…you’re interested in me, you know?” he mumbled. “Even without the money, you find me attractive and sexy and I just feel so great when I’m with you.”

He looked up at you, eyes apologetic as a brown strand brushed along his forehead.

“I just got caught up in that. I’m sorry,” he apologized.

You sighed, shoulders dropping as you nodded, accepting his apology.

“…come back to bed…please…”

Reluctantly, you joined him as he slid back, pulling you onto his lap. He ran his eyes over your face before slowly pressing his lips to yours. His fingers played with the lace on your figure, and you sighed into his mouth as he brushed his fingers over you.

“I really like this,” he said, lips brushing yours. “I don’t wanna ruin it.”

You both chuckled at that, and he helped you undress, eager to do the same for himself. You happily wrapped your legs around his waist as he rolled the both of you over, Peter’s hands dancing over your frame. You didn’t want to give Peter the idea that you could ever be anything more, but it was hard to think about how you’d go about that when he thrust into you so deliciously.

His hands never strayed from you once, hips slamming into yours as you held onto him. He moaned into your mouth when your nails scraped against his back and arms. You don’t know how long Peter fucked you, but he seemed determined to get his money’s worth. His teeth left marks, and his hand was tightening around your neck when you came around him for a second time. Even when he finally stilled against you, hips slamming against yours for a final time, he didn’t want to let you go.

His fingers dug into your waist as he pulled you against his chest, lips trailing kisses over your shoulder and neck as sleep claimed you.

The weeks that followed were…strange. Your life carried on as it normally did, but Peter’s presence no longer made you as comfortable as it did before. At first, it was just memories of the night he’d swiped you out from underneath Tony. You didn’t know how to act around him, afraid you’d give him the wrong idea and encourage his feelings. However, it quickly became more than just that.

Some mornings, you’d find yourself dragging yourself to the bathroom before examining the bruises he’d left behind in the mirror. They kind of hurt, but considering your suspicions about Peter, you thought that maybe he didn’t realize his own strength. Then of course there was the common coincidence of running into him while you were out, usually on the way to meet a client.

You’d been late 4 times already because of him, and of course, you’d gotten complaints. Your boss wasn’t exactly thrilled with you at the moment, but every time you ran into Peter, you just weren’t able to shake him. Even outside of the bedroom, he just took up so much of your time. He always seemed to be everywhere, and something nagged in the back of your mind that it wasn’t coincidence, but against your better judgement, you ignored it.

This morning was one of those mornings where you woke up sore, and you groaned as you rolled over. You heard Peter move behind you, arm resting on your hip as his lips met your shoulder.

“Good morning,” he whispered, sleep still in his voice.

You greeted him the same and sighed.

“I have to get an early start today,” you told him, moving to sit up.

Peter liked to cook breakfast for you whenever you spent a night with him, but you wouldn’t have time this morning. However, he had other ideas.

“No,” he groaned, pulling you back down.

A chuckle left your lips, this behavior not at all unusual, but you waved it off.

“Seriously, Peter, I have to go-.”

Your words were swallowed by his mouth as he kissed you, and you made a noise of protest deep in your throat. You pressed your hand to his chest as he covered your form with his own.

“Peter,” you protested, pushing against him as you felt him brush against you.

He ignored you as if you hadn’t said anything, hands roughly grabbing yours before pinning them down. A frown fell over your face at his actions, and you opened your mouth to tell him this wasn’t funny when he slid into you with one thrust.

You gasped, both in shock at the sudden action, and in horror as you registered what was happening. Peter’s lips met yours again, and you pushed against his hold with no avail. Your body had grown accustomed to his, had grown to welcome and crave his even, so you were unsurprised when he started to push into you more smoothly than he did a minute ago.

You bit his tongue when it slapped past your lips, and he pulled away from you with a frown. His hips didn’t falter once, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you clenched around him, and he hissed at that.

“You love the way I feel inside of you,” he groaned. “Even if you pretend that you don’t.”

“Get off,” you cried, a sob stuck in your chest.

He finally stopped, and he looked down at you with a harsh frown, eyes somehow darker than usual.

“Why?” he rudely asked. “So you can leave?”

“Yes,” you spat, and he flinched.

“I’m so tired of watching you leave me,” he quietly said, teary eyed. “I’m sick of it. Sick of watching you leave me again and again just to go fuck someone else.”

“It’s my job.”

Peter didn’t like your response, and he resumed his actions, making you throw your head back in frustration, trying to fight off the pleasure he was forcing onto you. Your wrists were sore under his harsh grip, and tears escaped as his lips nipped at your jaw, neck, chest, anywhere he could reach.

“I fuck you better than all of them. You said so yourself,” he murmured, hips meeting yours.

His lips brushed along your neck, and you could feel him smirk.

“…even better than Mr. Stark.”

You were in disbelief that this was happening, and even when he spilled into you, rolling off of you with a heaving chest, you were still in disbelief.

Disgusted and angry, you stomped out of bed, but you could hear Peter right behind you. He grabbed you as you reached for your clothes and purse, forcing you to face him as his fingers dug into your arm.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed at him, fighting to get out of his hold. “I don’t want you anywhere near me. What the hell is wrong with you, Peter?”

His brows furrowed, nostrils flaring.

“That’s not what you were saying last night,” he whispered.

“Yeah, well, last night you weren’t a fucking rapist,” you said, pushing against him. “I’m going to have you arrested.”

He let you go, and you stumbled away from him, hurriedly putting on your clothes.

“Someone would have to believe you in order for that to happen,” Peter quietly said, making you freeze.

You looked at him like he’d grown a second head, disbelief coursing through you. It was hard to wrap your head around what he said, and you blinked.

“Excuse me?”

Peter looked conflicted, jaw clenching as he eyed you, but it seemed his desire to have you outweighed his morals.

“Don’t do this, Y/N…because who is going to believe you when I have Tony Stark on my side?”

You reared back, frowning at him. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, and you felt fresh tears collect.

“I have plenty of people on my side. Plenty who will believe me. I have clients-.”

“The men who pay you to fuck them? Yeah, I’m sure they’re all upstanding gentlemen who will quickly come to the aid of an escort crying sexual assault! They don’t care about you,” he yelled, making you flinch. “You’re nothing to them but a hole with a pretty face.”

Your heart clenched at his harsh words, and he slowly approached you.

“…but not me. You’re more than that to me, Y/N, please-!”

He cut himself off as you brushed past him.

“I don’t care. I’ll report you to whoever I have to until I find someone who believes me,” you threw over your shoulder.

You reached the door just as white webbing flew past you to cover the handle. You froze again, eyes wide as you took it in, terrified to have your suspicions confirmed in the worst way possible. The knowledge that you were stuck in a room with a superhero, a dangerous one who could probably kill you, made you take a deep breath.

“So…you’re Spider-Man,” you whispered, more to yourself than him.

You shouldn’t have been surprised, and yet somehow, you were.

“I am.”

You slowly turned to face him, back pressed to the door as you eyed him. He was still naked, dark hair pushed away from his face as he gazed at you with a look that made you uncomfortable. Your lips trembled, fear gripping you as you shook your head, tears falling now.

“What do you want from me?” you tearfully asked him.

“I want you! I just…”

He hurried towards you, and you pressed yourself further into the door.

“I just want you,” he murmured. “I want all of you.”

More tears fell, even as he wiped them away, and you pushed against him.

“I can’t…I can’t just be with you. I have a job and-.”

“Quit it.”

You looked at him like he was crazy, but his face was entirely serious, and you both fought over your purse as he suddenly reached for it. He snatched your phone out of your hand as soon as you grabbed it, one hand pressed into your chest as he held it up.

“Call your job…and quit,” he lowly said, tone leaving no room for arguments.

You opened and closed your mouth, unsure of how to respond. Would Peter hurt you? Hell, he’d already raped you so maybe you shouldn’t put it past him.

“I don’t want to be the bad guy here. I just want to be with you,” he whispered.

He huffed when you still made no move to do as he said, and he swallowed, eyes boring into yours.

“Your parents are divorced, and your father is living in Colorado while your mom is enjoying her single life down in Florida,” he started, making your eyes widen in shock. “Your dad has a steady girlfriend he sees regularly whose usually at his house, but your mom…she lives alone.”

“Peter,” you whispered, stomach churning.

“Don’t make me be the bad guy,” he begged. “Just quit your job and be with me. It’s that simple.”

There were so many things you wanted to say. You wanted to know what happened to the sweet guy you’d met on his 21st birthday. You wanted to know why he couldn’t just be satisfied with what you had. You wanted to ask him what kind of relationship the two of you could even have? Not just with the age gap, but with what he’d done to you? However, with his not so subtle threat against your parents, you simply took your phone and did as he said with Peter watching you the whole time.

The minute you were done, he couldn’t get his hands on you fast enough, and what other choice did you have but to let him do what he wanted to you? His hands and lips were everywhere, and against your will, he made you come again and again as he fucked you against his sheets. Peter didn’t seem to care that you trembled in fear every time he so much as looked at you, as long as you were with him.

When he made you come for the umpteenth time that night, his face between your legs, that was when you finally passed out. You could have slept for an entire day for all you knew, but when you woke up, the smell of breakfast reached your nose, and you groggily opened your eyes to find Peter nearing you with a plate of food.

You warily eyed him as he perched himself in front of you, heart skipping a beat as he reached for your face. He awkwardly dropped his hand when you simply stared at him, and he sent you a sheepish smile.

“I made you breakfast,” he told you, sitting the plate in your lap when you sat up.

You continued to eye him as he sat there, and he eventually sighed before standing. He neared you, and you couldn’t stop the way you flinched, but he leaned down anyway, pressing his lips to your forehead. He remained there, deeply inhaling as he breathed you in.

“I know you think I’m a bad guy, but I don’t care…because you’re finally mine,” he murmured against your skin.

He pulled away to rest his forehead against yours, your eyes meeting his, and a small smirk danced along his lips.

“…all mine.”

~

tags: @harryspet​ @mcudarklibrary​ @darkficreposter​ @xoxabs88xox​ @nickyl316h​ @readermia​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @honeychicanawrites​ @honeychicana​ @villanellevi​ @lokislastlove​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @coconutqueen21​ @hurricanerin​ @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​ @sherrybaby14​ @darealblasian​

[raineydays411]

And the adventure begins

Bruce Banner x daughter!reader 

A/n: yay! Another part out! Finally lol. Now time to work on my Loki fic and ignore this one for two weeks lol💀 jk I’m trying to keep up y’all I promise. Anyway hope you like it💕💕

Masterlist

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

Now that you think about it, maybe you shouldn’t have skipped school today. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation. 

....On another planet. Watching Thor be forced to fight some old dudes “Champion”, whatever that means.

Let’s go back to the beginning.

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

Nerves filled your body as you walked to school. You had an audition in the school play today and you were determined to get the part. Tony had offered to take you to school today but you decided to walk as it would give you extra time to learn your lines. As you pushed through the busy streets, occasionally bumping into a random pedestrian, you heard some girls whispering.

“Oh my god is that..”

“Yes! oh my go, he's so handsome”

“Ask him for a selfie”

“No you go ask hm”

At first you rolled your eyes, thinking it was just some youtuber or Tik tok star, you kept walking, eyes down re-reading your script. Then you heard the girls speak again. 

“Thanks Thor, I’m sorry Jane dumped you.” 

Hearing the name, your head swiveled up. You scanned the crowd looking for the blonde man, at first missing him as he wasn’t in his usual outfit of a cape and battle armour. But then you saw him, in a hoodie and some jeans. Picking up the pace, you jog toward the god not noticing the darker clothed man next to him.

“....it was a mutual dumping”

“I didn’t know the renaissance fair was in town” you say, a small smirk making its way on your face at the quip. 

Both Thor and ...Loki?! Turn around in surprise at the sudden voice behind them. Only to see you looking up at them with a arched brow. 

“Lady Y/n! How wonderful it is to see you” Thor boomed as he brought you into a bone crushing hug. Over his shoulder you could see Loki roll his eyes. 

“Honestly, had I known this trip would consist of young woman flocking to you, I would have allowed your hammer to kill me.”

Thor ignored his brother as he put you down. “My how you’ve grown.”

You smile and say, “Well the last time you saw me I was twelve.” Then you eye Loki with distrust. “Um Thor, why’d you bring brother dearest back to New York?” 

Loki looks at you with distaste, “ Who is this child, and why is she conversing with us?”

“Brother” Thor warns and then turns to you, “ Lady Y/n, we are searching for our father, it seems as if my brother” Thor harshly pats Loki on the shoulder, “ Has misplaced him.” 

You look at Loki and then look at the building that has been demolished

, “ Woah, I didn’t know Gods put their parents in nursing homes” You say “ If you want we can go back to the Tower and try to track him down”  

Thor smiles at the suggestion, “ A wonderful idea, tell me, how have my comrades been in my absence?” 

You cringe at the thought of explaining the events of the so called “Civil war”. Then notice a ring of sparks forming around Loki. 

“Uhh Thor” You say as you nod your head

“What’s this..wha.what are you doing?” He asks in alarm. Loki looks confused as the sparks get larger and more erratic.

“ This isn’t me” Loki says in confusion. Then suddenly the ground opens up beneath him and he falls through with an alarmed “Oh!” only leaving behind a business card. You and Thor look at each other, confusion written on both of your faces. 

“Loki” Thor whispers as he nudges the card with his umbrella. You look at him with concern and think to yourself

“Does..does he think the cards Loki?” 

You bend down to pick up the business card and read it out loud. 

“177a Bleeker St” you look at Thor and ask,” Do you know anyone from there?” 

“ No” He says, ‘ i don’t even know where that is.” 

You sigh, looking down at your script and making a decision. “ Well, lets go find your brother.” 

And with that, you turn around and start walking to your destination.

“Oh well, school can wait”

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

You and Thor find yourselves in front of two big black doors. You stand near Thor as he raises his hand to knock. Suddenly, before his hand is able to touch the door, you find yourselves inside the building. 

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself as you look around.

“Thor Odinson” a deep voice says. You look up to see a floating figure in the shadows coming towards you both. Thor pushes you behind him as he holds him umbrella threateningly. If you weren’t in potential danger, you would have laughed at the sight. The figure floated into the light and you saw it was a man. 

He was wearing a cloak and some weird robes with yellow gloves. He was relatively handsome, salt and pepper hair that was slicked back, high cheek bones and a goatee. He wasn’t horrible to look at. His deep, baritone voice was soothing.

“God of Thunder” He said looking at Thor. He glanced at the umbrella. “ You can put down the umbrella.” Then his gaze turned to you. 

“Y/n Banner. I wasn’t expecting you here” He said eyes narrowing at you,” Shouldn’t you be in school?”

You chuckled nervously, “ Eh, how can I abandon a friend in need?” 

The man smiles and looks back at Thor and suddenly your in a different room. Looking around in awe you hear Thor start talking.

“So..Earth has wizards now” He says, picking up a dagger from a display on a table, then dropping all of them trying to put them back. You try to hold back a laugh, feeling embarrassed for the god. 

You might have failed though because Thor looked at you with an unimpressed glance. You giggle out loud this time, as you watch him struggle with the knives. Everytime he managed to put one back, another fell. 

“The preferred term is Master of the Mystic arts...” Clank! another knife falls. The man looks very unimpressed, at your giggling and Thor's clumsiness.” You can leave that now.” 

At those words Thor leaves the knifes, trying to regaine his cool, he leans against the table. 

“Alright wizard, who are you and why should I care?” 

“Thor! That’s rude!”  

Ignoring you, their conversation continues, 

“My name is Dr. Stephen Strange and I have some questions for you.”  He says as he eyes you and Thor. “Have a seat”  

Within a second you’re in another room in the building...or least you think it is. The wind blows your hair back as you are suddenly dropped into a chair. You can see Thor look around startled and confused at the sudden setting change. You’re sure your face mirrored his as well.

“Tea?” Dr. Strange asks nonchalantly, a cup of tea appearing in your hands. You look at it in awe, not used to this level of magic, or magic at all. Thor on the other hand looked unimpressed with the cup.

“I don’t drink tea.” He says examining the cup that looked small in his hands. 

“Well what do you drink?”

“Not tea.” Thor says shaking his head. You roll you eyes as you go for a sip of tea, but before you can a large pitcher of beer was in its place. You look up at the two men with a raised eyebrow. 

“I hate to be a bother, but I do drink tea” 

Strange looked at you in amusement as he returns the beer to tea. 

“Jesus made water into wine, you make beer into tea. Interesting..” You say as you sip your tea. It was perfectly brewed of course. Dr. Strange smiled at the comparison

“Well its not exactly like that” Then he turned to Thor, “ So, I keep a watch list of individuals and beings from the realms that may be a threat to this world. Your adopted brother Loki is one of those beings.” 

You scoff and roll your eyes and mutter, “Yeah no kidding.” Then you finish the last sips of tea, as you bring it down, the glass is already refilled

Thor looks up from his glass that he basically chugged,”Thats a worthy inclusion” His beer is refilled as well. He looks at it in astonishment.

“Then why bring him here?” Strange asks leaning forward.

“We’re looking for my father.” 

“So..if I were to tell you where Odin was..all parties concerned would return to Asgard” He then looks at you, “ or upper Manhattan.” 

“Promptly” “Try and keep me away from this place.” 

“Great then I’ll help you...and get to that later” 

You smirk at the doctor, knowing that it’s basically impossible to squash your curiosity once you get started. Then you realized something.

“Wait, if you knew where Odin is, why didn't you tell anyone?”

“Well he was very adamant he was not to be disturbed,” He turned to Thor, “Your father had chosen to remain in exile. Also you don’t have a phone.” 

“Hmm, no I don’t have a..a phone but you could’ve sent an electronic letter. It’s called an email.”

“Thor you don’t have a computer.”

“What for?” 

You lock eyes with Dr. Strange and share a look. 

“Uh huh well, my father is no longer in exile, so if you can tell me where he is, the quicker I can take him home.” Thor then takes a sip of his beer.

“Okay, hes in Norway.” Suddenly your on your feet again standing an a library of some sort. You’re a bit unbalance and catch yourself on the self. Strange is muttering to himself as he looks through a book. Then again, you’re in another room with a shelf. Nearly falling over you cling onto Thor, but he’s in no better shape than you, beer spilling everywhere. 

“Oh we don’t need that” Boom, in another room, this time you do fall and Thor breaks another shelf. He places the glass on a table, shaking the spilled beer of his person. 

“Can you stop doing that?” He asked irritated 

“Please” you add in, looking up from your place on the ground. 

You’re on your feet in a blink of an eye, feeling dizzy at the continuous movement. 

“Can I..I need a piece of your hair.” Strange says looking at Thor. 

“Let me tell you something, my hair is not to be --OW” 

You smile sweetly as you pass the yanked out hair to the Strange. “ Here you go Dr. Wizard.”  He makes a face at the nickname but takes the hair with a nod of thanks. Thor looks at you in betrayal. 

“Don’t be such a drama queen” You say rolling your eyes.  You then walk away from the duo, examining books and artifact that were in the room. You were too caught up in looking at all the cool stuff you didn’t pay attention to the rest of the conversation. Suddenly you were in the front room again. You managed to stay on your feet as Thor tumbled down the stairs. You watched in amazement as Dr. Strange did some hand movements and created a shape in sparks. 

“Could’ve just walked.” Thor muttered as he brushed the dust and wrinkles out off of his clothes. 

“He’s waiting for you.” Then Dr. Strange turned to you,” Would you like to go home Ms. Banner?” 

You looked at him with consideration,” Um Mister Strange, do you think you can help me find my dad?” 

“I’ll see what I can do.” Then he turned to Thor,” Don’t forget your umbrella.

“Oh right.” Thor sticks his arm out like he’s summoning his hammer. You look at him confused. Then you here several bangs and crashes, as if something is being thrown around the rooms. 

“ohhh thats where your hammer went” 

Dr. Strange looks at Thor unimpressed again.

“Sssorry” The umbrella lands in his hands and he brushes the glass off the hammer.” I suppose I need my brother back”

“Oh right”

The a portal appears a few feet off the ground, in comes Loki screaming as he falls and hits the ground. 

He flips his hair back as he catches his breath, “ I have been falling..FOR THIRTY MINUTES” 

You snicker as you go to help the god of mischief up,” Come on reindeer games, lets get you up” 

He doesn’t decline your help but he doesn’t thank you either. You turn to see Thor and Strange shake hands.

“Handle me?!” “Oh boy” “ Who are you?”

“Loki..”

“You think you’re a sorcerer? Don’t think for one minute--”

“Alright bye bye” The portal then is thrown to them as Loki charges with two daggers. 

It’s silent in the room as you whislte,” Well he’s very catty.”

Strange laughs as he nods,” Come on kid lets find your dad.”

You’re then taken back to the library and you give him a piece of your hair. 

“You have had quite the adventure today.” Dr. Strange says as he looks through the books again.

“Ehh, when you live with the Avengers stuff like this is an everyday thing.”

“I could imagine” He says smiling at you. “ Well..it seems like your father is off world”

“Off world?” You question,”why would he be...?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Then a bag appeared in front of you. 

“I have a feeling you won’t stop searching until you find your father.” He nods to the bag. “ Everything you need to survive in Sakkarr is in there, I trust you know how to use knives?” 

“Yeah, Bucky taught me.”

“Perfect, now you must try to get on the grandmasters good side, that’ll give you the resources you need to find your father. Don’t get caught by scavenger or scrapper , you’ll either get eaten or sold into slavery.”

“Slavery?” you ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Sakkarr is known to be the ‘dump’ of the universe. It’s filled with people you must be weary of. The main entertainment are these gladiator type fights the Grandmaster puts on.” He thinks for a bit the conjures up a portal. He pulls a amulet out of it then hands it to you. “If you find your father, or need a quick escape, rub this amule three times t and I’ll make a portal for you to come back home” 

You nod, nervous to go on your personal mission. You look up at Dr.strange and hug him. “ Thanks Dr.Wizard.”

He pats your back uncomfortably,” It’s Stephen.” 

You let go of him and smile,”Well, beam me up Scotty” 

He rolls his eyes and creates a portal, you take a deep breath and look at him. He sends you a reassuring smile and you’re filled with determination. Then you step through.

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

You step through it to see...the steps to some weird looking palace. You look around to see an even weirder looking city. It looks like its built out of scraps of metal or parts. You walk up the steps and into the palace. You look around, astonished at the amount of people?? 

Beings. So many different kinds of aliens. All different colors and shapes. It was like a Star Wars movie. Then you see a familiar face. 

“Loki??” 

He looks up at you in confusion, you speed towards him, happy to see a familiar face. Even if it is Thor's evil brother.

“Ah Thor's child friend. This doesn’t seem like your type of setting.”

“I’m looking for my father, Stephen says he’s here.” 

He scoffs, looking around the room. “It seems everyone is looking for their fathers.” 

“What are you doing here? I thought you were in Norway with Thor and your dad” 

“Well it seems that father dearest has been hiding a secret daughter. Who appeared after my father died. And is destined to destroy Asgard.”

“Well shit” you blurt out. “Are..are you okay?”

Loki looks at you like you’re a puzzle. 

“What.”

“Well..” you start nervously, “it sounds like a traumatic experience, so..are you okay?”

He’s quiet for a few minutes, just staring at you. Suddenly he turns around. “We must see the grandmaster. He’s the only one who can guarantee your protection, and I’m sure you would prefer not to be slaughtered brutally in the competition.”

He walks ahead of you, and you stare after him wondering what just happened. Then after he noticed you’re not following him he turns and says

“Well, come on. I haven’t got all day.”

“Oh right.” You catch up to him and walk by his side. Looking around in wonder.

“Why are you looking around like that?” Loki asks as he makes his way through a crowd of...pink women. They had their hair in very intricate styles and weird metallic unitards. They eyed you as you passed by them.

“I feel like I’m in a Star Wars movie.” You pass by a man, he looked almost reptilian. He had pale yellow skin with green slits as his eyes. He looks like he was gambling or something.

“I don’t know what that is. Why would stars commence in battle? It makes no sense.” Loki scoffs as he turns to look at you. You laugh at his misunderstanding.

“I just..never seen..” you trail off not knowing how to explain. Luckily, Loki seems to get what you were says.

“ I can see this is a bit of a change for you. But..you have seen people from other planets before.”

“ yeah..it’s just a lot to take in.” You smile at Loki, “ I’ll be fine, don’t worry. I can freak out about it after I meet the Grandmaster.”

He nods his head and starts walking again, but this time he’s closer to you. Finally, you reach a large room. It’s filled with guards all wearing different colored armor. They part as Loki walks through them, confident with long strides. You follow him, shrinking under their gaze. Loki leans down to whisper to you

“ when you meet the grandmaster, do not be too meak . And do not mention anything about your father till I tell you. Actually, just follow my lead.”

You look up at him and before you say anything, a large woman appears in the room. She looks normal to you. Stocky, a stern face with white markings. A slicked back bun. She’s wearing yellow armor with black accents. She’s holding a large staff with an orb attached to the end.

“ Didn’t the Grandmaster just see you” she says to Loki, glaring at him. Loki smiles charmingly and says

“Oh yes, but it appears that I have found a...friend.. of mine. She, like I, has arrived here on Sakkarr by accident and is hoping to meet with the Grandmaster.”

Then Loki nudges you in front of him, and into the view of the woman. She looks at you with distaste.

“ Poor child is skin and bones. She’s puny.”

You look in offense, but before you can say anything Loki spoke for you.

“Yes, and that’s why I have decided to take her under my wing.”

“ Can she not speak for herself? You expect the Grandmaster to—“ “ Easy Topaz”

“Loki! How wonderful to see you again, even though it’s been about twenty minutes”

A voice cut through the air. Suddenly everyone in the room stood up straight. Topaz immediately stopped talking and turned. A man came in on a floating throne. He was wearing red, blue, and gold robes. He had a blue line down his chin and blue under eye liner. He...he looked like..

“Jeff Goldblum?”

Loki looked at you like you were insane and the Grandmaster and Topaz just looked confused.

“What did she call me?” He whispered to Topaz, she looked at him in equal bafflement. She then tries to hand him the staff.

“ Why are you handing me the melty stick?! She had a slip of a tounge! That’s not a capital offense”

“What is wrong with you?” “I’m sorry! It just slipped out!” “ Do you want to die” “To be fair, that was the biggest compliment I could have given him. Jeff Goldblum is basically a god of cinema.”

Topaz looked at the Grandmaster, “ apparently this..Jeff.. is a god from her world.”

“Hm, child.”

You and Loki stop your whisper arugument and turn to the Grandmaster.

“Come forward.”

You look at Loki in fear and step up to the floating throne.

“Hm” The man says as he examines you. You suddenly feel self conscious about what you’re wearing. A Jurassic park shirt (ironically) with a turtleneck under, some plaid pants and converse. To be fair you weren’t expecting to end up on a different planet.

“I don’t know what Jurassic park is, but look there’s a big lizard on her shirt” he says to Topaz, “ you like lizards?” He asks you. Your eyes widened at the question not expecting it.

“Oh I think I’ve embarrassed her, it’s okay if you like them. I don’t personally like them, they’re all scales and fast and blegh” the Grandmaster rambles then Topaz chimes in

“ and they can grow back limbs”

“Yes! That’s disgusting”

“ I’m sorry, it’s not a lizard, it’s a dinosaur ” you explain. “ it’s from a movie, it has Jeff Goldblum...”

You trail off as they stare at you.

“ Go on, you keep mentioning this Jeff Goldblum, I’d like to hear more about him.”

So there you were, explaining all the different movies Jeff Goldblum was in. From the Fly to Jurassic Park. Everyone seemed...intrested. The Grandmaster somehow got it in his head that you were this great storyteller. So now you were on his good side, just like Loki.

“ Storyteller, I welcome you to Sakkarr! I have never met a child with such interesting stories!” He turns to Topaz, “ Aren’t they entertaining?! So adventurous!”

“ I think they’re weird.” “ Oh don’t be such a buzzkill”

“ I thank you Grandmaster, for being so gracious with my...ward” Loki says, “I assure you that I will keep her out of trouble.”

“ Yes yes, now go, if she is going to stay here, she’ll need to fit in. Topaz, see if you can find a tailor for the child, she’ll need a change of clothes. You as well Loki”

She nods and gestures for you both to follow her. As you walk through the futuristic castle, you are completely in awe. Even though you live with Tony, this is a different kind of technology. Topaz gives you both a tour. She mentions the fights and the arena, but you don’t pay too much attention. Finally you make it to the tailor. After being fussed over and much debating, you finally come to an agreement.

You end up with a sort of body armor. With a black catsuit made out of a leather like material, there were pieces of armor covering your legs, hips, torso, shoulders and arms. Blue fabric was wrapped around your waist, draping down the front and under the armor there. There was also fabric wrapped around your upper arm and shoulders preventing the straps from rubbing against your skin. Finally, to top it all off, a long blue cape drape down your shoulders. You felt awesome. You took the daggers Stephen gave you out of the bag and attached them to your hips. And the amulet around your neck.

“What do you think?” You asked Loki. He looked at you for a bit.

“Your daggers should be attached to your thighs, that way the hilts are at your fingertips and not your shoulders.” He squints for a bit, “ that cape looks ridiculous.”

“Fuck off man I look awesome.”

Loki just laughs and goes to put his outfit on. “ Such foul language for a child.” Then he comes out fully dressed. With a yellow cape.

“ oh? My cape was ridiculous?”

“Hush.”

You smile, and a silence falls between you both. You sigh and look down, playing with the end of your cape. Loki looks at you, examines your face, then looks away.

“ Why...why did you ask if I was alright?” He questions, “when you first saw me..?”

You looked at him your face scrunched in a puzzled expression, “ because.”

“Because what?” Loki asks, not understanding where your coming from.

“ I don’t know, because like I said, something that traumatic must’ve been shitty. I know I wouldn’t be okay.”

“I do not understand you. Why care about someone you never met? Nevertheless someone like me?”

“Someone like you?” Now you were really confused. What does he mean by that?

“No midgardian would trust me. Especially after...” He stops, hinting about the attack of New York. “ I am not... not a good person. Nor a good influence. Not for a child.”

“That’s bullshit.”

Your words seem to startle him.

“I beg your pardon?”

“ That’s. Bullshit.” You stand to face him.

“Loki, I’ve known you for about six hours. And in that time, you managed to help me gain favor of a ruler, enough for him to give me a room to stay in and new clothes. You also helped me when you could’ve just left me alone. From what I’ve seen, you’re pretty chill.”

“Chill?” He asks quirking an eyebrow.

“A good person.”

He stops and looks at you, “ you think I’m a good person? Even though I nearly destroyed your planet?”

“ Sure. We all make mistakes.”

He stares at you for a while. Smiles briefly and then gets up from where he was leaning.

“ You, my dear, are one odd child.” He walks out of the room. “Come along, I must get you to your room. It’s late and I am certain you e had a long day.”

You follow him to your room, turns out someone was paying attention to the tour. He leads you to your temporary room, shows you how to open the door and lock it, then makes sure your settled.

“Well, it’s time for me to retire. Good night child.”

When he doesn’t get a response he turns around, he sees you’ve fallen asleep on the bed. He chuckles at the sound of you muttering in your sleep.

“ An odd child indeed.”

Then he covers you, turns out the lights and shuts the door. Leaving you to go to his room.

( he promptly freaks out over how quickly he’s grown fond of you.)

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

Taglist: @ella-ivanov​

[ptergwen]

Peter Parker x Avenger Reader/ the reader gets stabbed on a mission and hides it from everyone. But Peter is suspicious and try’s to check. Can it end with angst please?/ if you don’t feel like it then never mind, don’t worry!!! ❤️❤️❤️

you want it to END with angst? well shit this one is gonna hurt.. literally

warnings: mentions of blood and death

“nice job, gang,” tony announces after you all pile on to the jet. “no one’s injured, no one’s dying. most importantly, i have no paperwork to sign.” he pretends to wipe sweat off his forehead. he’s sitting next to steve, who’s in the pilot’s seat. you tense up in your own. “what did i say about teamwork?” steve flashes tony one of his oh so charming smiles. “it’s all we’ve got,” sam answers, biting back a smirk.

“i don’t know about the no injuries thing, mr. stark,” peter murmurs, making your heart beat faster than it already was. has he figured it out already? “what’s that, kid?” tony wonders. he looks at him over his shoulder. “think i got a few cuts back there,” peter replies with a sheepish smile. natasha lets out a sigh. “you’re so brave.” “thanks for sharing your story,” sam adds on.

forcing out a laugh, you scoot the tiniest bit away from peter. he’s still joking around with the team. you’re trying to get out of his embrace, which is a first. his arm is wrapped tightly around your shoulders. too tightly because he’s pressing into your stab wound. it is keeping you from bleeding out, though.

you were the only one to actually get injured during the mission, but you didn’t say anything. you’d be ruining the otherwise successful night, which the team doesn’t get many of. the last person you want to find out is peter. it’s a hard secret not to share when your blood is literally on his hands.

“y/n, you’ve been awfully quiet. cat got your tongue?” tony observes with an eyebrow quirked. “thank god. let it stay that way.” bucky shoots you a wink. sam elbows his side. now that peter thinks about it, you haven’t said a word since the jet took off. “yeah, that’s a little... odd. you okay, baby?” he quietly asks, pulling you back into his side. “i... i’m just...” you wince when he squeezes you.

“i don’t have anything to say, i guess.” you’re giving peter a pained smile. “what’d i say about excuses?” steve chimes in, a knowing tone to his voice. “don’t make them,” natasha finishes for him. “what’s really bothering you, y/n?” “we’re here to listen, whatever it is.” steve glances over at you before putting his eyes back on the sky. “no, really! it’s nothing,” you insist, peter rubbing up and down your arm.

you can feel the blood starting to soak through your suit. he’ll be feeling it any second, too.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom. tell me what i miss,” you say to everyone. you’re quick getting to your feet. “i’ll go with you,” peter instantly decides. “you can’t!” you put a hand on his chest, effectively holding him back. “it’s... period stuff. that’s what’s bothering me, guys.” “there it is,” sam chuckles. “i can see that,” bucky agrees. natasha rolls her eyes at both of them.

“you know i don’t care about any of that,” peter scoffs and laces your fingers together. “can’t scare me off so easy.” if you weren’t lying and bleeding in other places, that would have been sweet. “it’s fine, pete. just stay here, okay?” you bite your lip as a wave of pain shoots through you. tony takes note of that. “ok. call me if you need anything?” peter raises both eyebrows for emphasis. “i will. alright, um... bye.”

with that, you scurry off to the bathroom. you stumble on the way there and grab on to your shoulder. that doesn’t go unnoticed by the team.

“i don’t think she’s fine,” bucky concludes after a minute. natasha laughs in disbelief. “of course she’s not! her uterus is-“ “not that!” he squeezes his eyes shut at the image she almost painted. “he’s right, kid was acting pretty weird. weirder than usual.” sam shares a look with tony. “go check on her, parker,” tony gently requests, steve frowning. peter exhales a breath he’s been holding. “yeah, i’m on it.”

you free your right arm from your suit as soon as you get to the bathroom. it’s where the wound is, and it’s really bad. blood is dripping down from your shoulder to your arm, sticking to the rest of the suit. it gets in fly away pieces of hair when you look for the source. your eyes flood with tears, lip once again between your teeth. your heart is beating so fast that if you don’t die from this, it’ll be from cardiac arrest.

you’re attempting to clean up your wound with water and toilet paper, muffled whimpers escaping you. you have no idea what you’re supposed to do, but it’s definitely not this. it stings so bad every time you touch it. silent tears fall down your face while you continue taking care of yourself the best you can.

a sudden knock at the door makes you jump. “y/n?” peter speaks sternly, like he knows what’s going on in there. he doesn’t. he’s just worried about you. “y/n, it’s me. can i come in?” “what? no!” you yell, still holding the crumbling toilet paper to your wound. “i need... i- i really need some privacy. please.” your voice becomes a sob at the end. peter only grows more concerned.

“baby, what’s wrong? it’s gotta be more than your-“ a loud thud coming from the bathroom cuts him off. “what was that?” he’s already reaching for the doorknob. “nothing. i...” you don’t even try to lie this time. you can’t. “i’m coming in.” peter warns you, throwing the door open without another protest. his whole world collapses at what he sees.

curled up in a ball on the floor is you, with your suit half off and blood everywhere. you’re shivering, crying, desperately clutching at your shoulder. you were just sitting right next to him, in his arms. how could he not have realized?

“oh my god,” peter breathes, getting on to his knees in front of you. “when- when did you... what happened? how long have you been-“ he can barely form one sentence. he’s in so much shock, and so fucking scared. “during the mission,” you respond in a sniffle. “someone had a- a knife or something. they stabbed me.”

peter presses both his hands to your open wound, frantically searching for your eyes. “fuck...” his voice cracks. “why didn’t you tell me, y/n?” he’s whispering, moving closer to you, face inches from yours. “because you...” before you can finish, your eyes start rolling back. “no, no, no!” peter takes one hand off your shoulder and brings it to your chin.

“stay with me, y/n. you can’t... you can’t go yet. don’t do this,” he cries out, his own face now coated in tears. his fingers grabbing at your chin force you to look at him. “it hurts so bad, peter,” you whimper. your eyes are void of color when they finally meet his. “i know, baby. i know.” peter blinks hard, his hand moving to cup your cheek.

“i didn’t want you to worry,” you start, peter caressing your skin softly. he has to bite down on his tongue to keep from screaming. “or add to the list of people you lost. seems like i’m doing it right now, though.” a sad smile crosses your features. “no... don’t say that.” he furiously shakes his head, thumb smoothing over your cheek.

“you’re gonna be fine, y/n. i’ll get mr. stark, and- and he’ll know what to do,” peter tries to convince you both. you’re not buying it. “what if it’s too late?” you croak. “it’s not. we’re gonna be okay, okay?” he leans down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering for a few seconds. “i’ll get him now. be right back, y/n/n.”

peter’s hands leave you slowly. he replaces his one on your shoulder with your own. “you’re not going anywhere,” he assures you once more, you giving him a stiff nod. he’s rushing back to inform the team of your condition just like that. your eyes fight to stay open again. you let them close, the pain too much to handle.

“i’ll always be with you.”

[crushed-like-an-ant]

how to calm down an angry billionaire

Step 1. Deflect.

Peter was good at deflection. Always had been. It was a skill he'd picked up after people constantly tried to ask him about his feelings after his parents died, then again when Ben died. Any questions he didn't want to answer quickly turned into an animated conversation about whatever his mind thought of first (there had been that awkward time he'd asked a fellow orphan how their parents were), an apology and fast excuse to get the hell out of there (mostly worked except when he was panicking and the best he could come up with was a cheese making competition, that had caused a lot of questions Peter would rather never deal with again), or just flat out running away (sometimes he ran into poles or walls which was always a bit embarrassing given he was literally Spider-man). Sometimes Peter had to use all three options. So Peter knew when Tony finally decided to have the dreaded conversation about the whole not-my-first-time-holding-up-a-building thing, he would be able to deflect it. Or so he thought. Turns out, Peter had drastically underestimated the sheer stubbornness of Tony Stark.

It was a lab day, around three weeks after the incident where Peter and Tony had been stuck under a building and Peter stupidly let slip that he’d held up a building before. Peter had thought Tony had forgotten about his words. He was comfortable, tentatively confident and optimistic that it wouldn't be brought up again. He had no idea how wrong he was.

"Hey kid?" Tony said, cutting the comfortable silence between them as they worked, tone slightly hesitant. Peter should've picked up on it. He should've realised. But he'd grown complacent. So Peter ignored the dread pooling in his stomach and lifted his head from the mess of wires in front of him to look at Tony.

"Mr Stark?" he replied with a smile that Tony didn't return. Nor did he try to tell Peter to call him Tony. And that was how Peter knew something was wrong. Nerves skittered down his spine, clod fingers of dread snaking around his neck as nervous energy filled him and he began to tap on the desk. Anything to distract himself from the sorrow and worry shining in his mentor's brown eyes.

"Look kid, uh, I," Tony fumbled for words. Shit. This was bad. If Tony Stark was struggling to say something, you knew it was serious. Peter just stared at him in silence,unsure of what to say, anxiety coursing through his veins at the grimace that clouded Tony's features. What could possibly have gotten him into this mood? Had Peter done something wrong? Was he gonna, oh god, was he gonna take the suit? "Pete, I need to know what you meant when we were under the building," Tony finally managed to say, Peter relaxing. Oh. That was all?

"I just meant that I'd lifted a lot of heavy things," Peter half-lied, looking Tony straight in the eyes and lying to his face, mindful to make sure his tells were carefully under control. Training with Daredevil - despite Tony's misgivings about Double D - had been one of the best decisions Peter had ever made. He felt a twinge of guilt as he lied to Tony but it's not like he could tell the truth. And he wasn't really lying. Just withholding the entire truth. He shrugged nonchalantly, "Anyways, you reckon you can help me with this? I'm stuck. My mind kinda decided to go and die on me." Peter chuckled quietly. Tony wasn't laughing.

"I want to believe you, kid," Tony told him, "I really do. But I can't. You had a panic attack under there. What aren't you telling me Peter? Whatever it is, I'm here for you. You can tell me anything. And I don't want to pressure you into telling me anything until you're ready but I-I just-I need to know what happened. I need to know what you meant." Peter's resolve almost broke as Tony's voice broke. No. He couldn't tell Tony. Not only would Tony think he was weak, but Peter knew that Mr Stark would blame himself because he took the suit. Peter couldn't let him do that. Option one had failed him, so it was onto option 2. Make a quick exit without raising any suspicions. Yeah, he didn't think that was gonna work. Worth a shot though.

"Hey, Mr Stark," Peter said after checking his watch and pretending to look shocked at the time, "I'm really sorry but I have to go. I promised Ned we'd work on our Bio project tonight and I'm already seven minutes late." Mr Stark raised an eyebrow and pulled up a picture of Ned on his holiday in California.

"Nice try kid," Tony replied drily. Peter sighed, shoulders slumping. Time for option three then.

"I-I don't really know how to tell you, uh," Peter deliberately stuttered, guilt eating him up inside as he put on an act for Tony. For option three to work, Peter had to catch Tony off guard otherwise he'd react too quickly and lock the tower down. His act work, Tony's features softening and body relaxing.

"It's okay, bambino, take your time." And if that didn't make him feel like a horrible person, nothing would. Peter stood and padded over to some machinery near the exit, pretending to be trying to busy himself as he worked himself up to answering Tony when he was actually getting closer to the door.

"I, uh," Peter stumbled. Tony was now far away enough that Peter could easily run without being grabbed and stopped. The door was right there. Peter took his opportunity. He ran. Out the door, down the hallway, flying to the elevator. Pressing the button frantically, Peter groaned when nothing happened. Great. Tony had stopped the elevators. Sighing, Peter pulled the mask from his pocket and pulled it over his head, sprinting at the window. Peter burst through the window in a shower of glass, activating his web shooters as he fell, quickly shooting a web and catching himself. And he was swinging, swinging, swinging. Allowing himself to smile at his escape, Peter was unprepared when he was grabbed from behind by two cold metal hands. Thanks for nothing spidey sense. Tony flew a sulking Peter back through the broken window and into one of the meeting rooms, setting him down firmly in a seat. Peter crossed his arms, pouting as he pulled off his mask, Tony's Iron Man suit unfolding around him and the man stepping out, an unimpressed look painted across his features.

"You done deflecting yet?" Tony asked, a single eyebrow raised. Damn. Peter wished he could do that. Alas, no amount of practising in front of a mirror had ever given him the talent to lift one eyebrow and not look like a demented monkey. Time for a different strategy. Deflection had failed him. But Peter would not go down easy.

~~~

Step 2. Deny.

The unfortunate thing about this step was that Peter would always over-deny. He would deny everything or nothing. There was no in between. For example, he was once denying eating the last bit of chocolate and ended up accidentally telling May his name wasn't Peter and that he was an alien from outer space with a severe lettuce allergy. Don't ask. Peter really didn't want to relive that trauma. So although Peter always tried his best with denial, it never really worked out in his favour. Honestly, it was through sheer dumb luck that he managed to keep Spider-Man a secret from his friends and family for so long. It was probably some good karma that had been waiting for the perfect moment to help him out. It was a little late but hey, better late than never right?

"No," Peter blurted in a panic. Shock splashed across Tony's face as he folded his arms.

"Kid, you know you can tell me anything, right?" Tony told him gently.

"No," Peter exclaimed again, hurt painting the billionaire's face. "I mean, yes." Shitshitshitshitshit. Peter was an idiot. He had to deny everything - but not everything, Peter, remember the lettuce incident - so Mr Stark wouldn't find out. But Peter had always been shit at denial.

"Look, I know this is probably hard for you to talk about," Tony continued on, oblivious to Peter's internal panic, "but I won't judge you. I love you, bambino. You know that right? And I'll support you no matter what but I can't help you if you don't let me."

"No," Peter said. It was the only word he knew. Any more and he would have another lettuce incident or he'd end up rambling the truth. He couldn't do that. So his current vocabulary was limited to 'no', 'no', 'no' with a side of 'no'. Which wasn't suspicious at all. Totally.

"What the hell, kid?" Tony asked, mostly confused, slight irritation colouring his tone. Peter was hyper-aware of the thundering beat his heart was drumming to, the way Tony's slightly picked up when he said 'no', the sweat covering his body like a second skin. Tony's sigh sounded like a bomb to his sensitive ears, the sharp intake of breath before he spoke like a blaring alarm. "What did you mean when you said it wasn't your first time?"

"I didn't," Peter responded, brain not quite computing, "nothing happened." Tony's gaze narrowed. Shit. Was Tony going to take the suit if he didn't tell him? But Peter just couldn't tell him. He couldn't.

"Fucking hell Peter, just tell me dammit!" Tony exclaimed, running a hand through his messy brown hair in frustration. Peter knew - with the certainty that he knew his own name or the colour of his eyes - that denial had failed him. Time for Peter's next strategy.

~~~

Step 3. Stretch the truth.

When Peter's other strategies failed him, he turned to stretching the truth. It was simple really, just take the truth and dial it down from boiling hot to freezing cold and give it to the person on a silver platter with a charmingly innocent - and only slightly nervous - smile. Half-truths were easy to fool people with. Someone had said that the best lies were the ones based on truth. Peter couldn't remember who exactly had said that. He had never been very good with that sort of stuff, unlike MJ. So although stretching the truth was Peter's third option, he'd always been surprisingly good at it. People seemed to believe he was too innocent to be able to lie. Which was absurd because he'd spent ten years living with his Aunt and her terrible cooking and she still didn't know he hated her walnut date loaf.

"Okay," Peter conceded quietly and the rage slowly left Tony as he deflated like a balloon, looking smaller without all the fury. Peter sat down in front of Tony. "It was back in the fight with The Vulture and he threw a wall at me. I caught it and threw it back at him but he dodged it with his super awesome flying skills." Tony looked him straight in the eyes for a few seconds, Peter holding his gaze before Tony leaned forward.

"Cut the bullshit," Tony whispered, dangerously quiet, tightly compressed anger stemming from worry swimming in his brown eyes. "A wall wouldn't stay together if it was thrown, caught and thrown back. Even then, you wouldn't say it wasn't your first time while holding a building up unless you'd held up a fucking building already. And you wouldn't have a panic attack from holding up a building about something thrown at you. So stop lying to me, Peter Benjamin Parker." Damn. The full name. Peter released a heavy exhale, knowing he was beaten. He had to tell Mr Stark the truth.

"It actually was in the fight with the Vulture," Peter began, "so I wasn't lying about that. And I did have to catch a few walls." Tony raised his eyebrows at Peter's weak attempts at defending himself. "I went to his warehouse and he sent his flying suit at me. It wasn't particularly good at attacking 'cause it hadn't even touched me. I said that and Toomes told me it wasn't trying to." Tony inhaled sharply, clasping his hands together to stop them from shaking, Peter trying not to listen to how Tony's hands still hit each other gently. Enhanced hearing sucked sometimes. "He had directed the suit to take out all the supports in the building." Tony gasped, expression contorted into one of such extreme guilt and sorrow that Peter wanted to shelter Tony from the world for the rest of his days because goddammit he's seen too much and been through enough and couldn't the world just give him a fucking break for once? No one deserved one more than Mr Stark did.

"I took the suit," Tony whispered, voice thick with emotion, "I took the suit. It was your only protection, damn it, and I took the fucking suit!" Tony was yelling now, self-hatred and rage dancing in his wild brown eyes.

"It wasn't your fault, Mr Stark," Peter tried to tell him.

"How?" Tony scoffed, laughing bitterly, "How was this not my fault. I took the suit and you got hurt because of my mistake."

"It's okay, Mr Stark, you didn't know," Peter said.

"But I should've," Tony replied, "I should've known." Peter's features hardened, spine turning to steel. He wouldn't let Mr Stark blame himself for this. The blame was on Toomes and only on Toomes.

"Did you pilot the Vulture suit?" Peter asked firmly.

"What?"

"Did. You. Pilot. The. Vulture. Suit." Peter repeated, staring defiantly at Tony.

"No, of course not," Tony replied, slight confusion clinging to his features.

"And did you cause the building to fall?" he continued.

"No."

"Then it's not your fault," Peter told him simply.

"Kid, I shouldn't have taken the suit," Tony began, dropping his head into his hands. He opened his mouth to continue but Peter cut him off before he could say anything equally self-deprecating.

"Maybe," Peter allowed, "but then I wouldn't found out I was strong enough to get back up again. 'If you're nothing without the suit then you shouldn't have it'. You told me that. I thought the suit made Spider-man and I lost sight of what Spider-man really meant. God, I started out in a fricking onesie. That's what Spider-man represents. Not a hero with a multi-million dollar suit, but someone with nothing but their will to save others. Without you taking the suit, I never would've remembered everything Spider-man stood for.; With great power comes great responsibility. You gave me that tough love moment and I needed it. Now it's my turn to dish out some tough love for you." Peter took a deep breath. "You, Tony Stark, are being a fucking idiot. The blame of what happened in the past lies with Adrian Toomes, and Adrian Toomes alone. So stop this self-deprecating bullshit and use your fucking brain for once in your life. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault." Tony looked up at him, the self-hatred drained from his features, a slight smile adorning his lips which Peter returned.

"You're right, kid," Tony said, "when did you get this wise?"

"I've always been this wise, Mr Stark, I just wanted you to feel better about your lack of common sense," Peter joked, Tony chuckling.

"It wasn't my fault," Tony repeated. Peter tilted his head, confused at the strange undertone in Tony's voice only to see a fire lit in his caramel eyes. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch."

And it was then that he knew he fucked up.

~~~

Step 4. Try some breathing exercises.

Peter had always been shit at breathing exercise. He just didn't have the patience for them. While he was breathing, someone could be getting raped in an alley, a shop could be getting robbed, or a kid could be getting beat up. So - despite the constant reminders to just try the damn breathing exercises for the love of god - Peter had never done anything of the sort. How could he? With his enhanced senses, it was impossible to relax. Would you be able to sit there and breathe while screams rang in your ears and sobbing pounded in your mind? Naturally, this meant that Peter wasn't the most experienced when it came to said breathing exercises. Maybe he should've practised. Life always had a funny way of throwing Peter in the deep end headfirst and tied to a ten ton weight and expecting him to swim. However, he had once read in a self-help book that breathing exercises were good for calming people down, so he decided to hit fuck it for the sixth time in the last 48 hours and try it out. I mean, it was that or release an angry billionaire in a metal suit decked out with the most advanced weapons in the world (except for maybe what HYDRA had because honestly Peter knew better than to underestimate them and he mildly respected their cockroach-like survival skills) who was hell-bent on revenge and gave zero fucks into the world. The second option was beginning to sound quite tempting, Peter would be honest.

"Mr Stark, you need to calm down," Peter told the man gently, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder. Tony tilted his head up to look at Peter - rage splashed across his face, tension lining his body - before he shrugged off Peter's hand and jerked into a standing position. And the room was suffocating, suffocating, suffocating, because damn had Tony always been that scary. A cloud of darkness surrounded Tony, filling the lab up and winding itself slowly around Peter's neck, stealing the breath from his lungs. Tony stormed through the lab, footsteps like thunder, anger crackling like lightning. Desperately, Peter followed the billionaire. "Mr Stark, Mr Stark, please calm down," Peter pleaded with him.

"No," Tony spoke, voice cold and flat, tone totally devoid of emotion, so totally opposite to the fury painting his entire body like a second skin. "No I will not calm down, Peter. He dropped a fucking building on you. He deserves to die."

"But you don't deserve to live with the guilt of killing him," Peter begged, tugging at Tony's sleeve in a desperate attempt to stop the man from his warpath. Peter knew he could easily overpower Tony. But he was hoping it wouldn't come to that. "Trust me, I know how it feels to want revenge, I really do, but you have to let it go. Please, Mr Stark."

"Dammit Peter, he hurt you!" Tony shouted, whirling around to face Peter, features twisted and manically furious. "He hurt you a-and I wasn't there and you had to deal with being crushed by a fucking building and then you got up and kept fighting because of that sick son of a bitch so I swear to fucking god I will murder him." Tony's eyes held a frenzied wildness in them, chest heaving up and down, Peter could hear his heart racing.

"Mr Stark, try some breathing," Peter said out of desperation, completely and utterly out of ideas. "Just breath. In and out, in and out." Tony's momentary surprise shocked him out of his anger, confusion flickering across his face momentarily before the anger was back, stronger than ever. Tony pivoted on his heel and walked away from Peter, heading towards where he kept his suits and leaving a heavy sense of dread pooling in Peter's stomach and twisting his insides in knots. So breathing hadn't worked. Thanks for nothing self-help books.

~~~

Step 5. Hack the most advanced AI in the world.

When in doubt, do something potentially illegal. A mugger had once told Peter that after Peter caught her trying to rob a young man. That lady had been fucking badass. It was honestly a shame she's gone to prison but a criminal is a criminal. Turns out the lady had been responsible for a string of high-end bank and jewellery robberies. Peter wondered how she was doing. Probably not well, considering how shit the American jail system is. Peter always tried to find alternative ways to stop criminals, only really sending in the pedophiles, rapists, murderers and the more professional robbers. Sometimes people had no choice in the shitty hand life had dealt them and goddamn if Peter didn't get that. People were just pushed and pushed until they were left with nothing but desperation. Maybe if the government or any of the fucking American systems were better or did their jobs properly then people wouldn't have to steal just to keep themselves and their families from starvation. Maybe Toomes wouldn't have started his alien tech business and then none of this would have even happened. Peter wouldn't be in this situation right now. And Peter was now out of options. He had an angry billionaire on his hands and absolutely no idea what to do. So, he took the lady's advice and decided to do something potentially illegal. He hacked the most advance AI in the world. (What, like it's hard?)

"Hey FRI?" Peter called with a wince.

"Yes, Peter," the AI replied.

"I'm really sorry," Peter told her before bringing up FRIDAY's code. (A/N - I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT COMPUTERS SO THIS IS GONNA BE SOME VAGUE, QUESTIONABLE AF HACKING) Fingers flying across the keys of the laptop, Peter bit his lip in concentration, brows furrowed. He had to hurry and shut down Mr Stark's suits before he reached them and left to murder Toomes. Adrenaline coursed through his body, brain whirring to life like the computer before him as he deleted lines of code, rewriting and altering the code that created FRIDAY as he tore down the firewalls Mr Stark had built. Peter vaguely registered that this was probably illegal and that Mr Stark would most definitely be mad about this later but he quickly waved the thoughts away. He didn't have time for them, he didn't have time, he didn't have time. Barely registering what he was doing, Peter submerged himself into the world of numbers, immersing himself completely in the ocean of lines of code, fingers instinctively knowing what t do as though he'd been born to hack. Again, probably not a great thing that this was so easy. But computers had always made sense to Peter. After what felt like hours but was really only a few minutes, Peter was into FRIDAY's system. And with a few taps, Peter shut down the suits. Quickly exiting the browser, Peter dropped his head into his hands. He'd done it. With a long exhale, Peter relaxed, leaning back into his chair and running his shaking hands through his hair. An enraged roar broke the peaceful quiet surrounding Peter and he squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe if he ignored it, Mr Stark's anger would go away. He couldn't deal with this shit. Peter was too young to die.

"Peter Benjamin Parker I swear to fucking god-"

"You probably shouldn't fuck god, Mr Stark," Peter couldn't resist remarking with a shit-eating grin. "People might get a bit mad. And who knows, you may even end up pregnant which I can't imagine will be very fun."

"What the fuck?" Tony whispered into the silence that followed Peter's statement. "I don't even want to know what goes on in your brain." Peter hummed in agreement. To be honest, he had no idea what was going on up there half the time. He was just along for the ride. And hey, if it distracted Mr Stark from his anger then it was a win win situation right? (How Peter won in this scenario he didn't know but he didn't question it).

"It's the trauma," Peter replied flippantly, as casual as one would be if they were discussing the weather.

"The-" Tony broke off into angry, confused gibberish that Peter didn't even try to decipher. Crisis averted. Now to deal with the aftermath.

~~~

Step 6. Watch a movie.

Peter Parker wasn't good with emotions. Being a socially awkward sixteen-year-old genius had that effect on a person. Not to mention the fact that he had a crime-fighting, sarcastic alter ego. Yeah, he wasn't great with feelings. Especially not his own. And now he was attempting to help Mr Stark clam down after the whole Toomes-dropping-a-building-on-him-reveal thing. And the only way an emotionally stunted teenage genius superhero knew how to help an emotionally stunted adult genius superhero was something most people would not class as a healthy coping mechanism. Distraction. Preferably with a movie.

"Hey Mr Stark, wanna watch Empire Strikes Back?" Peter asked. Tony fell into a confused silence which Peter took as an agreement. "Yes? Perfect, let's go." Grabbing Tony's arm, Peter tugged him out of the lab and into the elevator, confusion splashed across Tony's features as they entered the movie room. Peter dropped onto the expensive yet incredibly comfortable couch in the centre of the room, pulling Tony down beside him. "Hey FRI? Can you please play The Empire Strikes Back."

"Certainly, Peter," FRIDAY replied, a hint of warmth in her robotic voice. The Star Wars theme filled the room, Peter lips kicking up into a smile at the familiar sound. And as the movie played, Peter reciting every single line with the characters, he felt the rage and tension slowly drain out of his mentor as he relaxed.

"Hey, kid," Tony whispered, interrupting Luke and Darth Vader's showdown. "I sorry for getting angry. I just... I just didn't know what to do. Instead of asking if you were okay I blamed myself and wanted to frigging murder a guy who's already suffering in prison."

"It's okay, Mr Stark," Peter responded with a smile, sincerity gracing his tone. "I get it. After Ben died, I found his murderer. I almost killed the guy," Peter chuckled without humour, Tony watching him with sad eyes, the movie forgotten. "Point is, I know how it feels to want revenge. Don't apologise for being human."

"You really are the best of us all, kid," Tony remarked, a smile adoring his face, features relaxed as he looked at Peter.

"I learned from the best," Peter replied with a shrug.

"Thanks, kid," Tony said, throat tight with emotion.

"I meant May," Peter joked lightly, the heavy emotion clouding the room vanishing as Tony laughed.

"Are you okay, kid?" Tony asked, seriousness settling over them again.

"Honestly?" Peter responded, "no. But that's alright. Because I will be." Peter held Tony's gaze, warmth blossoming in his chest at his mentor's caring eyes, as Darth Vader's voice filled the room.

"No, I am your father," Darth Vader spoke. Peter turned back to the movie, watching as Luke jumped and fell.

"You're gonna be okay, kid," Tony whispered, "we're both gonna be okay."

Because Peter would be okay. So Tony was okay too.

And if Pepper walked in three hours later to find them curled up against each other, fast asleep she never said anything. (She got FRIDAY to take a photo and saved it to Irondad and Spiderson - an unsurprisingly large file. She should probably get Peter to do a DNA test. They did look rather similar)

[writingthingsisdifficult]

Good intentions

Bucky Barnes x reader

Had to divide the story into four parts, and I’m working as fast as I can to finish the rest.

Please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think :) Especially if you like it.

Everybody's alive.

When Natasha catches your reaction to seeing a soaking wet Bucky coming in from the rain, your life becomes unbearable. Nat considers herself a decent matchmaker, but what happens when both her subjects are resisting her attempts?

***

Part 1: Matchmaker

Word count: 4412

It had been raining for weeks. Racing streaks down the glass. Soft drumming against the umbrella. Big, fat drops of water splashing against the pavement, sending shivers through my body whenever they hit my skin. Two in rapid succession on my neck – don't know how, though, my coat collar was pulled up as high as it could go, and my umbrella was larger than average. Then one straight into my ear, which made me squeak in disgust. This had to be an omen.

I shook my umbrella before stepping through the door. No need to be a savage, though from the look of it, I was the only one who cared. A quick nod good morning to Nesta in the reception while making a mental note to call down the cleaning crew. The state of the floor was appalling. Mud and dirt and water – apparently not everyone remembered to wipe their feet before entering the building. And umbrellas all along the wall, dripping on the tiles, creating puddles so large a toddler would happily jump in them.

A long sigh escaped. Time for a stern talk with Nesta again. This was supposed to be a good first impression, not an impression of someone's mudroom. My stomach twisted, this was just the latest in a long string of minor complaints. If she didn't improve soon, I would have to make a note in her file and I hated being strict. Still, it was a part of my job, just like running errands before eight in the morning and longing for the coffee I left in my office. I didn't have to like it.

The elevator pinged. “Hey, Y/N.” Natasha walked out with a smile on her face. Her hair was red again, like flames cascading over her shoulders. Damn, that woman really could carry any hair colour. I nodded and smiled back. “Good morning, Agent Romanov. You're in early. What can I do for you? Love your hair, by the way."

"Thanks. I was wondering if you could help me with something."

I shook off my coat and adjusted the bag on my shoulder. "Of course. What do you need? Let me just –""

The door blew open, banging into the doorstopper before closing behind a sopping wet figure and an umbrella that definitely had seen better days. "Good morning, Y/N. Hey, Nat. Have you seen Clint?" Bucky shook himself, sending a glittering spray of water everywhere.

"No, but check the roof."

The air was knocked straight out of me. I couldn't stop the tiny squeak that tumbled over my lips.  The way his hair stuck to his face did things to me, not to mention how the water glistened on his metal arm. I hadn't felt heat on my face like that since I was seventeen and spilled juice all over my shirt in front of my neighbour Todd.

Swallowing the rest of the rude noises hovering in my throat, I forced a smile and nodded to the elevator. "Saw him by the coffee machine on the third floor earlier, Sargent Barnes." My voice was breathier that usual, and I cursed the weather for calling me out like that, while simultaneously praying to any deities listening that nobody noticed.

"Thanks." He marched to the elevator with a pace that would divide a crowd of people without a word.

Natasha looked between Bucky and me, a devilish smile spreading on her face. Once he was out of earshot, she bumped me with her elbow. “So, Bucky, huh?”

The heat crept up my ears and settled in my temples. Surely I was no more than two seconds from combusting? “What? I don’t… no, I mean –" I drew a big breath and steeled my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, what was it you needed my help with?”

Her eyes locked on mine. "Never mind that… You're a terrible liar."

A good point. I let out a small wheeze and scrunched my eyes shut. "Fine! Yes, Sargent Barnes is a tall drink of water. Is that what you want me to say? Well, yeah, okay. Maybe I do have a thing for him." The defeat was inevitable. Already my intestines were squirming. Nothing good could come from this.

Natasha looked like it was Christmas and her birthday all at once. "I knew it!"

I shrugged, ignoring the rising chill in my chest. How to best deescalate this before it got out of hand? "Well, you are a superspy after all. But please, PLEASE, don't say anything to him. I like my job. Besides, he's a fucking superhero. I'm just… me."

"Just you?" She shook her head lightly and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I mean, come on! Look at me!" Holding my arms out, I swayed from side to side. I never liked to draw attention to my body, but apparently she needed the extra visual.

Natasha arched her eyebrow. "I am looking."

She was good, but I couldn't to give up that easily. "Yes, and then you clearly see that I'm ordinary. People like him don't fall for people like me. He's too perfect for that."

"Perf… perfect?" She snorted. "Y/N, Bucky's a mess. He's basically a cucumber with anxiety. Damn, you really have it bad if –"

"I know he has issues. You all do. I'm the one booking everybody's therapy sessions, remember? I'm not talking about his trauma. I'm talking about the fact that he's sweet as a marshmallow and his smile could power a small European country if Stark only found a way to harness its brilliance –"

"And the fact that he's got those broad shoulders and could probably lift and throw a bus if he wanted…"

"And that," I nodded, rubbing the back of my neck to stop that annoying heat from spreading even more. That was a delicious picture, alright. "But I'm nothing special."

"Y/N, sweetie, what are you talking about? You know everything, who's supposed to be where, what we're doing, when we come and go – that's practically a superpower right there. Don't downplay yourself."

The laughter came out dry and humourless. She had to be kidding. Being organised and good at puzzles wasn't exactly rocket science. And besides, I didn't even have a good memory. Without my trusty calendar and phone I'd be running around like Hei-Hei.

"Appreciate your confidence in me, but I don't think so, Nat," I countered and repeated: "Please don't tell him."

She sighed. "I won't."

I tilted my head and put on my best mom-voice. "Promise me."

Her shoulders slumped forward, and she lifted her hand in the air. "I promise I will never tell James Buchanan Barnes about your crush." There was a small pause. "Partypooper!"

"Who's a partypooper?"

I yelped and spun around, looking into Tony's smiling face. "Oh my god, Tony, I mean, Mr Stark." Why did he have to be so stealthy? A big, flashy guy like him ought to be required to announce his arrival with trumpets and drums. Through my galloping heartbeats I noted the glasses were new though, and wondered what kind of new tech they really were. They suited him.

He smirked. “Not the first time a lady has said that to me. But you didn’t answer my question.”

Exhaling, I closed my eyes, just barely resisting the urge to pinch my nose – or maybe kick him in the shin as a diversion. This was going to hell with the express train. “No one. No one's a partypooper.”

“Really?” He turned to Natasha. “Nat?”

I shook my head vigorously, bringing forth all malice I had to my eyes, which I have been told is substantial.

"Y/N has a crush and –"

"Ooh, is it me?" He winked and wiggled his eyebrows.

That made me laugh. "What? Oh, god no." Then I immediately felt bad for my reaction.

"Okay, a little bit insulted, but whatever…"

"She won't let me tell Bucky that she's in love with him," Natasha continued as if she had never been interrupted.

Tony gasped, a look of absolute delight in his eyes.

It was as if the ground disappeared beneath me. A rush of adrenaline almost knocked me off my feet. "Natasha! You promised."

She shrugged and pointed at Tony. "I promised not to tell Bucky. Last I checked, that is not him."

This time I did pinch the bridge of my nose and exhaled deeply, then groaned silently. “Nat!” Even I could hear the desperation in my voice. “Sargent Barnes is a friend. Well, uh, a colleague. Of sorts. I do not -“

“So you didn’t just squeak and burst into flames when he came through that door, huh?” She pointed to the glass door with a grin on her face.

Yeah, this was definitely a torture-the-handler day. Though Natasha was right about my crush, of course, and I wasn't even sure it was just a crush anymore; it had lasted for far too long to be called a crush, I had to keep a professional relationship with all of them.

Truth be told I had had a crush on Bucky since the day we were introduced, but I remembered the exact moment I had fallen in love: it was a chilly spring evening about a year ago. The team had decided to go out to eat, Wanda had discovered a new restaurant downtown, and the food supposedly was to die for. I couldn’t remember what I ate, or if I even liked it, but I remembered the knitted cardigan Bucky wore, the one with the colourful pattern on it. It looked really soft, and I found myself longing to touch it. That wasn’t the moment, though. The exact moment that made me go “Oh shit!” was when I cracked some stupid dad joke, and Bucky unleashed his full laughter on me. Who knew that "Singing in the shower is fun until you get soap in your mouth. Then it's a soap opera," would be my doom? But the sound had stunned me, made me lose my voice for several minutes. If someone had opened my skull at that moment, the only thing they would have found was an empty space and a dial tone - my brain frantically trying to reconnect with my body. If I concentrated I could still hear the ringing in my ears.

I avoided him for a week afterwards - well, tried and failed; my work meant contact with the entire Avengers team at all times - but the mental distance hurt too much to keep up with it. Since then, I allowed the realisation to wash over me, causing me both joy and suffering. And I thought I hid it well. Not well enough, apparently, since Natasha sniffed it out. I resisted the urge to close my eyes and sigh again. However, I couldn’t stop my intestines from curling into a tight ball. She had brought Tony into this after all.

Tony’s eyes shone. It had been a long time since any drama unfurled in the compound. He was practically starved, and this… This was delicious.

Looking between them, I knew this wouldn't end well. "You know what? I'm gonna go set up the briefing. Room 705. Thirty minutes. Don't be late." Fishing the phone out of my pocket, I sent a group text to everyone with time and location. In afterthought the wording in the text might have been a tad too harsh, threatening bodily harm if they were late, but the start of the day warranted some sort of reaction leaking from my brain. I locked eyes with Natasha. "Not. A. Word!"

She nodded, but the grin never left her face.

Tony watched me frantically push the elevator button, and I caught him whispering, not knowing I could still hear him. Or maybe he didn't care. "So what's your plan?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you have a plan? You're the resident match-maker here, aren't you?"

Nastasha let out a small laugh. "Do you know why she refuses to do anything about it?"

Tony nodded. “Because she’s professional and a bit afraid for what the people at the top are going to say?”

“No. Well, probably that too, but she thinks Bucky is way out of her league. Something about him being a superhero.” She snorted.

“What?” Tony let out a barking laugh. “Why? Bucky’s like the most timid ex-assassin you can find. I mean, he’s basically a cup of soft serve covered in salt and liquorice."

“I know. We gotta get them together. So, uh, are you in?”

“Uh, yeah! What’s your plan?”

The room finally sealed itself around me and I heard nothing else than the back of my head banging against the mirror wall and F.R.I.D.A.Y. cheerfully announcing what floor I was going to.

Half an hour later I had to step out for a bit to fetch a new cable to the projector, and when I got back, almost everyone were seated. My chest hollowed when I spotted Tony and Natasha sitting together, looking very conspiring indeed.

The urge to either run from the room or break them up rose in my throat, but instead I pulled up a chair next to Sam and focused on my breathing. He was one of the most calming people on the team, and I shamelessly used him as a shield.

Other than the small scare in the beginning, the morning briefing went without hitch. Agent Hill presented the upcoming missions, and I marked my calendar accordingly. Apparently SHIELD had detected a new terrorist group forming in northern Europe, and needed eyes.

Natasha was a given, she could go undetected for longer periods of time, and could take care of herself if necessary. Of course, Clint would come with her. They were an amazing team together, and he would probably go anyway, even if he was assigned to another task. It was better just to let him.

Steve and Sam would step in if it came to that, but would have to keep under the radar until they were needed. Bucky would travel to Europe with the others, but I knew he would set off alone the minute they touched ground in Stockholm. He worked best alone, or so he claimed, and anyway it would be an advantage to spread out. Still, I made a note on my pad to make sure he had everything he needed, and then some. Who knew where his road might lead him.

Bruce and Tony would work together to develop a better algorithm for the surveillance. So far, the terrorist group had evaded SHIELD's best efforts to pin them down. I was actually surprised to learn they didn't even know their name, which made me suspect something big was coming.

The rest of the team was assigned to other, smaller missions, scattered across the States. That way they could easily be reassigned if the situation escalated in Europe.

During the meeting, I kept an extra eye on Natasha and Tony. They sat next to each other, and though I thought I saw them passing notes a couple of times, I didn't want to bring any attention to it. The rest of the group looked oblivious. A sigh of relief escaped me, and Natasha looked up. She nodded imperceptibly towards Bucky, who sat with a bored look on his face and a discarded towel by his feet.

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head, trying my best to stop my ears from buzzing. Suddenly aware of every molecule in the air and trying desperately to ignore the intense weight, I focused all my attention back on Agent Hill’s presentation. Still, Bucky’s presence lingered in the back of my head, and together with the imminent threat from Natasha and Tony, I felt like I was sitting on explosives.

When Maria finally closed her laptop and turned to Director Fury, everybody got up, chatting as if the meeting had been a regular parent-teacher meeting and not a brief on a possible terrorist organisation on the rise.

“Can you believe that people will do things like this?” an agent asked as we all filed out of the room.

“Well, faith is a strong persuader,” I replied with a shrug. “Some are willing to go far for what they believe in.”

“Yeah, but they’re wrong,” the agent continued.

“They’d probably say the same about us,” Sam said, and I nodded.

“There are always two sides to the coin. If not more.”

“But -“

“And then it’s up to us to figure out what to do. We have to look at the big picture. Not everyone is capable of that.” Sam tilted his head with a look of disappointment in his eyes.

The agent huffed and hurried off with a look on his face that either said that he was constipated, or that being schooled by a member of the Avengers was too much for a Wednesday morning.

“Not sure he saw the big picture, Sam.” I shook my head and smiled.

“Don’t think he could. Better hope he doesn’t get promoted soon.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. He’ll be on desk duty for years still. And I guess you have a little desk duty yourself right now?”

“Well, actually… I was hoping you could do me a favour.”

Uh-oh. That sounded ominous. “Of course. What can I do, what do you need?” My voice rose to mimic the retail job I had before I got lucky enough to join SHIELD's training and ultimately land my dream job.

Sam grimaced. "I gotta go to Louisiana. Just a short trip, couple of days maybe."

"Shit, don't think Director Fury would be too happy about that right now, not to mention the rest of upstairs. You're supposed to be on silent duty until you leave for Sweden."

"Yeah, I know that, it's just… Cass and AJ has been asking me to come visit. And Sarah's getting sick of their nagging. Also, I sorta promised on the phone yesterday. Didn't know there would be a world crisis today."

Smiling softly, I hid the urge to smack my face into the wall. This was going to take a lot of explaining and string-pulling. He was supposed to go no-contact for the duration of the mission, but I hated disappointing the boys. And Sarah was a good woman. She didn't deserve being let down, even though it technically wasn't Sam's fault this time.

"Sam, you're such a softie," I said after some consideration. "Go. I'll figure something out. Just be back before the weekend, okay? And –"

"Yeah yeah, and I'll come in at once if the situation escalates before we're scheduled to head out."

I gave him a crooked smile to disguise the trouble he had just handed me. "Sure. But I was gonna say bring back some of that pecan pie. I've been dreaming about that since last summer."

Sam let out a loud laugh and kissed the top of my head, melting my nervous soul to a gooey puddle. "You're the best. Thanks."

"Fly safe."

"I always do."

"Really now?"

"Oh so that's how it is, huh?"

"That's how it is. Say 'hi' to Sarah for me."

With a short wave, he took off down the corridor, leaving me quietly screaming and already doing the mental gymnastics to find a solution.

***

Departure time was in two days. Everyone was on edge, trying their best to prepare for any eventualities, both inconceivable and expected. After a short meeting with the departure crew to share the last pieces of intel, I felt empty and tired. Missions always affected me more than they should. These people were my friends; if anything were to happen to them, my world would collapse.

Apparently I wasn't the only one feeling a bit drained. No one was in a hurry to leave, and the conversation was hushed and weary.

"You know what we need?" Tony said loudly, slicing through the silence and winking to Natasha. He thought I wouldn't notice, but I did, and the suspicion grew in my chest. What now?

"Pizza!" they said in unison. "We should gather everyone, before we all go."

Tony nudged my arm. "My treat. What do you say?"

Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head. "…sure."

"Oh, don't be like that. We all need good pizza. Especially today, what with all this rain. Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y., you know that pizza bakery up the street, the one with the chicken one. Order pizza for everyone. Remember the one with pear, brie, and white sauce. Have it delivered to the lounge."

That did it for me. If he ordered my favourite, I'd be damn sure to eat my part. "When?"

"Uh…" He looked at his watch. "Noon. I'll send out a ping. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks. I do have a ton of things to do to make sure you guys don't die on this trip." I tried to keep it light, but now that the thought had settled in my mind, I had to fight off the tears. It was a miracle I managed to keep the tremble from my voice.

An hour later I tripped over the doorstep to the lounge, surprised to see it was empty except for Tony and Natasha and a huge stack of pizzas. "Where is everybody?" The door clicked behind me, sealing the silence in.

Natasha shrugged. "Late?"

At that moment the door opened again and Bucky sauntered in with a mischievous smile on his face. "Gimme the pizza and nobody gets hurt."

"Jeez, Buck. Remember your manners. There are ladies present." Tony grinned, but opened the top box and helped himself to a slice.

Bucky snickered and rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Y/N," he said with an over-the-top flourish. "I hope you can forgive my insolence." He gestured towards the pizzas. "Ladies first."

My heart did a somersault, but I managed to keep it cool on the outside. "Insolence forgiven," I replied, swallowing a hiccough that lodged itself in my throat, before taking a plate and sifting through the boxes until I found the right one. Loading my plate, I sat down, sinking into the soft cushions. Only thing missing now was some candles and a drink, and I'd be set for the day.

Natasha gave Tony a pointed look. Two minutes later he picked up his phone and half jogged out the door. That was odd. Tony never jogged.

I looked between Natasha and the door, the pizza forgotten halfway between the plate and my mouth. She looked anywhere but at me, but was saved from a confrontation by her phone ringing. "Gotta take this," she muttered. "Can't prepare enough for the trip." She smiled apologetically and left the room. That was a lie, of course. She had full control; all intel was already read and destroyed. And if something new had come up, I would have been notified too.

Suddenly the plate felt heavy in my hand. Maybe it was naïve, but I had expected Natasha and Tony to respect my wishes; after all I had made it absolutely clear that they should leave it, hadn't I? Their amusement and entertainment wasn't worth being an inconvenience to Bucky.

"What's going on?" Bucky asked when the door clicked behind Natasha.

"I… I don't know," I lied haltingly.

Bucky shrugged. "Oh well. Might as well catch up on some paperwork before the flight too. See you later." With one slice between his teeth and another in his hand, he left the room with a friendly wave.

"Sure. See you." I spoke to his back; the glass door had already closed behind him. The lump in my throat grew. Even though Tony had ordered my favourite pizza, I no longer had any appetite. My mouth was dry, and it was a struggle to swallow. In a fit of frustration, I kicked the table, smacking my toe in the process. The pizza slice slid from the plate and landed on my thigh. "Fuck!"

"Ooh, pizza!"

I spun in my seat. Steve had just arrived, and that made me feel a little bit better at least. He was always a laugh.

"Where is everybody?" He looked around and spotted my moping figure, holding an equally sad slice of pizza. "You okay?"

"I guess," I replied, trying to smile and failing miserably. "Everybody else left. The mission, yeah?"

"Right. I thought everything was planned and okayed."

I couldn't bring myself to fill him in on the situation. If he didn't already know, it was nice to have someone neutral by my side. "Yeah, I don't know."

Their scheme was becoming clear; making Bucky spend time with me alone. But it was a failure. Even he thought it was awkward, and he obviously didn't want to be alone with me. Not that I blamed him. If I was him, I'd do the same.

I glanced at my watch. 12.30. Just then Sam, Bruce, Wanda, and Vision spilled into the room, heading towards the pizza like a herd of hungry goats. Slowly my appetite returned too, and half an hour later the blow to my heart was a painful memory pushed to the back of my mind by excellent pizza and wonderful friends.

Later that day I ran into Tony on the way to the garage. He tried to slip past me, but had to stop when I blocked the door, arms crossed over my chest and puffing myself up as much as I could. "Seriously, Tony! What did you expect to happen, huh? That I'd just throw myself in his arms because we were alone? Because newsflash: I've got both self-control and decency. Do you really think I've never been alone with him before?"

At least he had the decency to look thoroughly chastised, and he mumbled something inaudible I thought maybe sounded like an apology.

No way he was getting away with a tiny one. "What was that? I couldn't quite hear you."

"It was Nat's idea," he said, trying a smirk that didn't work at all.

"I very much doubt that," I replied, dragging a hand over my eyes. "Do I have to call Pepper? I didn't think so," I added when he shook his head. "Do better! Now excuse me. I have a lot of work to do to ensure you actually don't die on this mission." With a final, exaggerated frown, I turned and marched out of the room, ignoring the samba in my chest.

Part 2: Eel infested waters