#sis looks so bored and unimpressed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-silent-hashira · 2 years ago

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Love to hear about a reincarnation au for you and Lucifer!

i went ham so i'm just gonna put it under a readmore lmao its basically a fic now

“You know, I really am completely unimpressed with the selection of baked goods in the cafeteria here. Its like they aren’t even trying! I’ve had better food at a dive bar in Hell than this. Earth is so… Boring.”

“In Hell?” A soft chuckled came from Auriel. “You act as if you’ve been there before. I mean, I agree, Earth is rather boring and the cafeteria sucks, but I don’t think you’d be here right now if you knew what eating at a dive bar in Hell is like.”

“Of course I’ve eaten at a dive bar in Hell! Don’t you remember, Auriel? Its where we met.” Lucifer laughed, but the face on the other man was shocked to say the least.

“I’m sorry, have we met before?” The voice was unsure, but curious, “I’m sure that we’ve never met… And certainly not at a dive bar in Hell…”

“... You don’t remember yet,” Lucifers face twisted into something between pain and disappointment, “Well, I suppose thats alright… It took me a bit to remember myself.”

“Uhm, I don’t,” Auriel shuffled, uncomfortable, “Sir, are you alright? I think you might be mistaken.” How do you deal with a man talking about ‘remembering’ things like hes your old friend from high school?

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry, I should introduce myself! My name is Lucif- Lucien Magne. I’m-”

“You’re the new CEO,” suddenly, the other mans entire demeanor changed, as if something in him flicked a switch and knew exactly how to behave, “I’m so sorry, I should’ve noticed. My name is Auriel Soleil, I’m head of accounting! Its a pleasure, Mr. Magne.”

“... Pleasure is mine,” the others tone changed as well, now definitely showing his displeasure and disappointment.

Auriels head was suddenly swimming with possible explanations as to what could make his new boss react so poorly- sure, he was just talking rather frankly with him about things that didn’t exactly make sense, but wasn’t that just a test for him? He should’ve known who Lucien was, maybe it upset him that he hadn’t immediately known it was him and continued the prior conversation.

“ My apologies for interrupting you, sir. I should’ve-”

“I said its fine,” his voice was curt, and suddenly Auriel felt completely blocked off from him, awkwardly turning to stare forward again.

“... You act the same as you did in the beginning. Sir this, sorry that. Can’t we just be… I don’t know, normal? You don’t have to call me sir or apologize or anything like that. You really don’t remember…” He mumbled to himself, before looking back to Auriel. Clearly he was unnerved now, Lucifer could see the way his fingers tapped against his chest in an unheard rhythm, a nervous tic that seemed to have remained the exact same as he remembered.

“O-of course, si- I mean, Mr. Magne.”

“Just call me Lucien.”

“But I-”

“Please.” Ding!

“This is… My floor. Uhm, I hope you have a good day… Lucien,” and just as meekly as he spoke, the taller man quietly slipped out of the elevator with only the soft click of his heels echoing down the elevator room hallway.

“You too, Auriel.” Lucifer sighed, as the doors closed again.

—

“Ah, there you are. Its good to see you again, how are you doing?”

This time, they were standing in front of the lunch board of the cafeteria. Auriel was standing, clearly indecisive, looking intently at the board until the voice of Lucifer was suddenly next to him.

“O-oh! Si- Lucien, are you here for lunch? I’m doing alright!” He said, his voice much more confident than it had been earlier.

“I’m glad you are. I thought you might’ve turned to sludge on your way to your department with how anxious you were leaving the elevator, so I’m glad to see you’re intact. Sadly, I am here for lunch once again, looking at the piss poor excuse of a menu they have here. You’d think with as much money as this company makes they’d make a better menu available,” he said, shaking his head a little, “I could always go out to eat, but eating on your own is so boring, and rather pathetic.”

“Ahaha, yes, I suppose it would be! I tend to eat at my desk usually, but lately I’ve been finding less and less time to make myself lunches… Ever since the budget cuts, I’ve needed to work a few more hours of overtime- n-not that I’m complaining or anything, sometimes those sorts of things are necessary in order to recoup losses-”

“Its fine, you don’t have to justify yourself. Its regrettable that we’ve had to cut down on staff, but as you said, it is necessary to the company. Its why I’ve been eating here every day, why should the other employees be the only ones to eat garbage while I eat steak dinners every night? Though, I am considering maybe getting someone new to supply baked goods to the cafeteria.”

“Yes, you were saying that earlier. Admittedly, I agree, the pastries here aren’t exactly the best quality. Oh, if you want to find a good place with some really good pastries, theres a coffee shop just down the street where I get my morning coffee! They have some really astounding coffee cakes and apple turnovers.” Lucifers entire attention quickly was on Auriel.

“Apple turnovers?”

“Yes! They get fresh fruits from the farmers market every weekend, so theres always new things to try, but they stock the apple and cherry turnovers every week. I prefer the cherry, but you seem the type to like apples rather than cherries.”

“Are they still open right now?”

“They should be, why?” The genuine curiosity on Auriels face as he tilted his head to the side made Lucifer feel warm inside as a smile spread across his face.

“Lets go, then! I’ll treat you, we can get a coffee and some turnovers to go.”

“F-for lunch? Well I-” Auriel bit his lip a bit, tapping his fingers on the back of his other hand, “Alright then, I suppose that wouldn’t be terrible! Are you sure?”

“Yes!” Suddenly grabbing his hand, the shorter man basically dragged Auriel out of the cafeteria and out of the building, “Lead the way!”

Auriels brain short circuited for a moment, a vision (a memory?) of having his hand taken and pulled along through a carnival under a scarlet red sky, and being begged to play a specific game with…

“This way, I always like stopping here when I have the time. They all know me by now, its actually really nice when they already know what your order is when you walk in!”

—

The calm sound of the lake and ducks quacking along the banks of it was soothing. How he ended up here, watching his boss, the CEO of the company he worked for, chase ducks as if they were cats trying to avoid being picked up was beyond him.

“Come here, ducky ducky! Oh, you’re so pretty with your sleek coats, don’t you want some peas? I have frozen peas for you!”

“You brought… Frozen peas?” laughed Auriel, smiling as he watched the man pull out a legitimate bag of frozen peas out of a lunch box in front of him as the ducks warily stood at the lakebed.

“Of course! Bread is bad for ducks, they make them rather sick as does rice. Frozen peas are perfectly find for them to eat, though, so I always keep them on me whenever I come here,” the sound of the bag opening seemed to draw the ducks closer- clearly these ducks knew that feeding time was approaching.

“I see you come here quite often. They run from you, but the minute you opened that bag they all seem to understand you’re the food bringer.”

“I am the King of Ducks, after all,” the man squatted down, offering a handful of frozen peas out to the ducks and dropping some to the ground for them.

Those words struck something in Auriel- he’d heard that more than once before, and the smile on his face wouldn’t leave and his heart swelled in his chest. Was he okay? His heartbeat was loud in his ears, just watching this man feeding ducks seemed to make him feel… Odd.

“The King of the Ducks, ruler of the Duck Kingdom! I have to admit, its quite the prestigious title. You had to have been rather drunk when you said that, though.”

“I was quite drunk when I said it to you for the first time,” Lucifer looked back over at him, a more calm appearance on his face than the excited expression he had a few minutes earlier, “But I took it in stride, and still do. I DO love ducks, after all.”

Auriels eyebrows knit for a second, confused, but… It felt right of him to say that. A small vision of sitting in a bar, watching Lucifer drunkenly giggle with a rubber duck in his hands and saying those exact words to him.

“I’m sure you do! I bet you own an entire bathtub full of rubber ducks. Personally, I prefer-”

“Geese. Ugh,” Lucifer shuddered “Because they’re terrifying and have way too many teeth.”

“... Yes, actually. How did…?” He shook his head, “I like geese explicitly because they’re violent. I think that if people didn’t interfere with them, they’d never even bother anyone! And I find it admirable that they go to great lengths to protect their eggs! They’re beautiful creatures, and swans are related to them! I know swans are more visually pretty, but I never liked them all that much. They’re solitary animals, its rather sad to see them when they’re all alone like that.”

“They mate for life! You can’t just expect them to always move on,” Lucifer scoffed, “Sometimes you can’t move on from the person you loved for so long.”

“I think, that if I were to have someone who loved me so much that they refused to move on, I would feel very sad for them. I wouldn’t want them to remain alone forever without me. I think that they should at least try to find someone new, I wouldn’t want them to be…” Auriel trailed off, the look on Lucifers face made his heart hurt suddenly.

“... Sometimes you just don’t move on. You can’t expect that from your partner- thats for them to decide. Maybe thats what you wish for them, but they can’t help how they feel about it. Would you not date someone if they said they felt like they wouldn’t move on from a committed relationship if their partner died?” His eyes were so sad, hurt. The way his frown sat on his face, the way he avoided eye contact after the initial glance, the slight furrow to his brow…

“Of course not… I know I can’t control it, but I also wouldn’t be able to lie and say I wouldn’t be sad for them. I would want them to love and be loved, for as long as they lived. Though, I don’t think its reasonable to ask someone to die at the same time as you, so I figure that if I go first they should at least try to be happy for the rest of the time they have.”

Quiet settled over them as the ducks fed happily and Lucifer pet them.

“I think they’d die of heartbreak first.”

#🖋️ object of affection || self #🍎 apple of my eye || lucifer #💝 sweeter than candy || sfw #💌 what could be sweeter || personal writing #theres a lil bit of hurt/comfort in there lol #food tw #ducks tw /j #ofc theres ducks

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bezanime · 1 year ago

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Generations 78: A Sweet & Sour Harvestfest

Nevia and Cameron decide to host Harvestfest at their house this time around. And what followed was....

Nevia: "Welcome to our Harvestfest dinner! Go ahead and grab a plate."

Dani: "Look at these fancy table placemats. You're really becoming mom 2.0." *laughs*

Julie: "Yes... it's nice, dear." *examines placemats* "But this can use adjustment. I recommend taking an etiquette class."

Nevia: "..." *bored* "I'm alright."

Dani: *bursts out laughing* "Never mind, sis."

Julie: "You're free to reject my offer." *unimpressed* "I'm just suggesting an opportunity for improvement."

Laurant: "Uh... this pie is really something!" *distraction* "Don't this taste like Mrs. Gladys' cooking?"

Cameron: "That's because it is." *grins* "I channeled grandma."

Nichole: "Baby, that's so sweet! Momma would be so proud." *kisses Cameron's cheek*

Laurant: "That's my son! Your generation is the future. The ones who pass down the legacy." *proud*

Rosa: "You know, Dani and I talk about this when community-building." *thinking* "There's so much power in community networks and history."

Dani: "Exactly! Our communities need to be a source of support... not stress."

Darryl: "Stress?" *curious* "Such as?"

Nevia: "We can talk about it later! Now let's eat!" *2nd distraction*

Nevia and Cameron had planned to announce their engagement to the family today... but the vibe threw everything off. They ultimately decided to announce it during a formal engagement dinner.

#sims 4 #sims 4 generations #sims 4 legacy #san sequoia #lyon-fletcher legacy #black sims #simblr

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ferretshark · 5 years ago

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Meet Me In St Louis

By: @ferretshark

For: @wonkystank

Rating:General

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan, May Parker

Summary:

Peter really wasn’t looking forward to Friday, May was working and he already knew that Tony was going out of town because Lab and movie night were cancelled. He should just take the time to stay in and catch up on sleep. The problem was he couldn’t sleep because he couldn’t stop thinking, but he couldn’t think effectively because he needed sleep. The cycle was vicious and he wasn’t seeing a way out.

He looks up to find Tony watching him.“You know I’m going to St Louis. Why don’t you come with?”

“Go with you? I thought it was a business trip.”

Ao3 link

Peter stares into space, unfocused. He’s tired and everything he needs to do stretches out in front of him. Lately sleep has been hard to come by and the days are blurring together, even Spider-manning has lost some of its charm. He sighs.

“I’m sorry. Am I boring you?” Tony’s voice is teasing.

Peter blinks, eyes snapping back into focus. “Um, no. I'm not bored.” It was lab day, not that they’d accomplished much. The lethargy that had been plaguing Peter all week iswas still there sapping his creativity. He starts to offer up an excuse but settles for honesty. “I’m just... tired.”

Tony’s eyes darken with concern. “Yeah, May and I have been worried about that. Maybe it’s time for a break, Bud.”

Peter narrows his eyes a bit. He’s not sure how he feels about this new development where Tony and May consult on the regular about his welfare.

“So no school on Friday.” Tony ventures. “Happy said you’re o-ff.”

“Yeah, it’s a teacher work day.” He slumps forward, resting his cheek on his hand.

He looks up to find Tony watching him.“You know I’m going to St Louis. Why don’t you come with?”

“Go with you? I thought it was a business trip.”

“It is. All the more reason you should come along.”

Peter considers. Seeing the in and outs of running SI could be cool, but the travel sounds exhausting. “I’ll have to see what May thinks,” he mumbles out.

“She thinks it’s a good idea. “ Tony crosses his arms at Peter’s unimpressed look. “Might be fun to do a little light interning?” Tony’s phone chimes and he glances down. “Happy’s here.”

Peter stands, stretches and starts gathering his jacket and backpack. He’s not really sure where the afternoon’s gone.

Tony walks with him out to the garage, it’s something that’s started to become a bit of a tradition lately. “ See you bright and early on Friday. And, Pete, leave the suit at home.”

—-

Peter tries to go to bed early on Thursday, he really does. He only patrols to nine thirty , comes home, showers and packs his duffle.

He’s in bed by eleven but sleep won’t come. Tossing and turning well past midnight, he checks his phone again, up in three hours. He flips the screen down and passes out close to dawn.

By some miracle he’s awake at five thirty, grabs a quick breakfast and is downstairs ready when the black Bently pulls up to the curb. The door and trunk locks disengage.

“Quick! Get in.” Happy yells through the windows.

Peter barely has time to throw his bag in the open trunk and get the door shut before Happy’s veering back out into traffic. He peers at Peter in the rear view mirror. “Buckle up!”

“Ok, ok I‘m working on it.” Peter pulls the belt and snaps the buckle into place. “Where’s Mr. Stark?”

“He’s meeting us there.” Happy answers, accelerating through a yellow light.

Sometime later, they pull up in front of the private jet hanger. Peter hops out and waits while Happy grabs their bags. The jet sits on the tarmac, and it gives Peter flashbacks of another trip not so long ago. The steps to the passenger cabin lower and Happy hurries inside with the luggage only to poke his head out again.

“Can you tell Tony we’re ready to go? His stuff’s already here but I think he’s in the hanger.”

Peter looks over to the tan building waiting off. “Uh, sure.” He steps inside the open building and sure enough Tony is there, tapping away on his mobile.

“I thought you said no suits.” Peter gestures to the Iron Man suit standing in sentry mode over in the corner of the hanger.

“Do as I say not as I do.” Tony says flippantly, not looking up from his phone. “Anyway, he’s staying here.”

The fact that Tony always talked about each of his suits as if they were wayward children but also proclaimed them synonymous with himself privately amuses Peter. He looks fondly at the suit.

“So still not sleeping?” Peter looks up to find Tony’s gaze sweeping over his face.

“Not really.” He shrugs, he doesn’t want to get into it right now. “Happy says it’s time to go.”

Tony looks out at the jet. “Yeah, probably. Come on.”

______

The flight time stretches out as Peter stares out the window. Mr. Stark mouths an apology but ends up spending most of the time on his phone. He can see Happy hunched over in the back, sending emails.

At least the WiFi is plentiful. Peter spends his time wisely watching tik toks and scrolling through tumblr. He wishes he could rest a little, but even as tired as he is, actual sleepiness seemed out of reach. The tiredness he carries lately is settled down deep in his bones and leaves him feeling like he’s taking tiny sips of rest when he really needs to drink deep. The resulting exhaustion sits heavy in his mind, weighing down his shoulders. Trying to ignore the feeling he stretches out, putting his feet on the seat across from him.

Slipping his earphones in affords him some semblance of privacy, He starts up his Spidey playlist and dives back into the wonders of the internet. He’s not really aware when he starts singing, until he launches into an energetic chorus and suddenly he remembers. He bolts upright to find the other two airplane occupants regarding him with everything from amusement to irritation. In fact, it was exactly those two reactions, amusement and irritation.

“Oh, um sorry.”

Tony laughs and goes back to his work, still smiling.

Happy is playing a mean eyebrow game as he finishes his phone call.

Peter clears his throat and settles back into his seat <i>quietly.</i> He also studiously avoids looking around the passenger cabin. Fortunately, within thirty minutes, they're on the ground at the airport.

He stands and stretches while Happy and Tony disembark. He’s learned by now that the most important thing to do in these situations is stay out of Happy Hogan’s way. The man is a ball of energy as he secures their ride and gets the luggage put away.

Tony slides into the back seat and Peter slips in beside him. “Let’s go, Hap.”

Peter marvels at the views of an unfamiliar city through the car window, far off he catches a glimpse of the Gateway Arch, the city’s most famous landmark. There’s factories and abandoned houses, museums and concrete, but it’s also beautiful and green in a way that parts of Queens aren't. Maybe it’s not a fair comparison but, hey, Peter hasn’t been too many places.

They pull up at the Four Seasons Hotel because, of course, Tony always goes first class. Peter takes a quick panoramic shot and sends it out in a text to his best friend. Ned was going to die.

The lobby is all light and glass and Peter tries hard not to be intimidated. He’d stayed in some reasonably nice places back when he was in band, but really nothing close to this.

Tony goes to the front desk and comes back with keycards. He passes them out to Peter and Happy.

“We have early check in so go make yourselves at home. Same floor.”

Happy looks a little surprised, “They didn’t have your suite-”

He’s cut off by Tony. “It’s good, we’re good,” he calls over his shoulder, heading to the elevator. “Let’s go.”

They get to the right floor and exit the elevator and Tony hovers while Peter finds his room number easily enough. Tony lingers behind him in the hallway until his door swings open, making sure his keycard works.

Peter pushes inside to reveal a tasteful decor in green, gray and olive. The room opens up at the end with an enormous picture window, framing the far off bridge and graceful sloping Arch. His first thought is that he’d love to swing from it. His second is that he must be in the wrong room.

He leans back out in the hallway. “Mr. Stark?” He can see Tony down and across the hall balancing his phone while he tries to work his key card from its little paper sleeve.

“Yeah, Pete?”

“I think I have the wrong room. There’s the view um..the Arch?” He gestures back toward the room.

Tony’s smile is soft with understanding, “I know kid, I’ve seen it.” He disappears into his own room. “Try a nap, if you can.”

Peter turns back, his eyes riveted to the skyline. Slipping into the room, he drops his bag on the floor. “Holy shit.” He whispers and then executes a pivot and falls backward onto the incredibly soft bed.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls his phone out, thumb sliding across the cracked screen. The plan is to send a few quick texts to May, but the muse strikes him and he steps over to take a few pictures from the window.

There’s a sharp rap at the door and Peter surges to his feet. Outside in the hall he finds Happy, looking not very happy at all. The man was all business.

“Ok, at midday we’ll be heading over to Switchpoint Services. We’ll do lunch there. The meeting’s at one.” Happy hands him a packet. “Here’s your security badge.” He slaps a laminated piece of plastic into Peter’s hand, “Wear it,” he stresses. “Do not lose it.” He gives Peter stern look, bulging out his eyes to make his point.

“That was, like, one time.” Peter tries to defend himself.

“If you don’t have the badge, they won’t let you in.” Happy doubles down on the dire warnings. “And don’t think you can sweet-talk your way upstairs like you do with that lobby guy at SI.”

“Ok, ok Happy, I got it.”

“Meet us in the lobby at 11 and we’ll head over.”

Happy turns and heads off down the hall. Peter shuts the door and sets his packet out. He should probably familiarize himself with the company they were going to.

There’s an olive chaise and he sits down on it. He spends a lazy half hour reading over the history of one Switchpoint Services, a poly-global tech company. Their latest innovations were extremely noteworthy. No wonder Mr. Stark wanted to partner with them.

He flips listlessly through the pages again. Maybe he should take a nap, like Mr Stark suggested. He glances over at the bed, but the thought of laying there, wanting to sleep but being unable. His new unwelcome normal. No, Peter turns his head back towards the window, then leans his head against it. He watches the flow of people and traffic below him.

A brief pattern of soft knocks sound at the door, and Peter’s head jerks up.

“Come in,” Peter calls.

Tony sticks his head around the door. “You busy?”

“Oh, it’s you.”

Tony just gives him a look before stepping into the room. He walks over to where Peter is.

“You just standing here?” Tony’s brows draw together.

Peter shrugs, “Yeah.” He wants to confide in Tony and tell him about the lack of sleep, the inability to rest. He feels like if anyone would understand, it would be Ironman. The words won’t come though, but in the end he doesn’t need them.

Tony hooks the edge of the olive green lounger and pulls it in front of the window. He pats the seat beside him. Peter joins him and they sit together, staring out at the mid-morning crush. Everyone outside was hurrying, trying to get somewhere but in this moment, in this space, Peter found he could finally just breathe.

There’s something in the shared silence that does more than any amount of talking could have.

Eventually, Tony’s phone beeps and he leaves, telling Peter it’s almost time to get ready.

Peter changes into his “work” clothes. His standard blue-gray sweater over a collared shirt and khaki pants. Not snazzy, like whatever Mr Stark will wear, but it works. He picks up the packet Happy gave him, slips his keycard in his pocket, and goes down in the elevator.

Downstairs Happy and Mr. Stark are chatting quietly. Happy is in his standard gray suit. Mr Stark is wearing a fitted black suit with a white dress shirt and red tie. His eyes are somewhat masked by the fashion shades he’s wearing. Peter fidgets, feeling underdressed.

Ton smiles when he catches sight of Peter, “There he is. Right on time.” He claps Peter on the back and they head to the parking lot.

Happy ushers them to the car and they drive through the busy city to a square building with blue mirrored windows.

Peter steps out, looking up at the office and swallows, tugging a bit at his cuffs.

Tony catches his eye, “Nerves?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Peter says with a little more confidence than he actually feels. He checks to make sure he has his security badge and that it’s visible.

There’s nothing quite like stepping into a business with Tony Stark. He’s instantly recognizable and between Stark Industries and the Avengers, his celebrity has launched into the stratosphere.

Happy takes immediate charge or coordinating with the personnel on site. Peter follows close behind Mr. Stark as they are ushered into a brightly lit, but currently empty, conference room. It’s bigger than Peter had expected and he wonders for the first time just how many people would be joining them.

After quiet discussion with their guid, Tony settles in at the head of the table and directs Peter to the seat on his right. The chairs themselves are a dove gray with a surprisingly comfortable seat. Peter leans back and stretches his legs out in front of him.

“You hungry?” Mr Stark asks.

“Mm, yeah. I could eat,” Peter answers politely.

“Yeah me too,” Mr. Stark steps out and has a word with Happy. When he comes back, he has food.

“The finest box lunch ten bucks can buy. Complete with mystery cookie.” Tony tosses down a box lunch in front of Peter. Tony leaves and comes back with bottled waters.

They open their boxes and Peter pulls out his ham and cheese. This was one of those fancier lunches with the really good bread. He takes a bite and sighs. Hunger well on its way to being sated, he roots around to find his chips and a wrapped dill pickle slice.

“Chocolate, white chocolate chunk.” Tony comments, unwrapping his baked good. “What did you get?”

“Looks like white chocolate macadamia.” Peter keeps his expression neutral because, sure, he’d eat it. He generally wasn’t in the position to be picky.

He looks up to find Tony holding the chocolate cookie out, “Trade?”

“Um sure.” He knows he sound less enthusiastic than he feels but he is grateful - chocolate cookies were the best.

“ Macadamia nuts. You know,” Tony muses. “Back in the day, they used to serve pouches of these on flights to Hawaii.” He takes a bite of the cookie, chews and swallows. “For the greater good and all, but I still kinda miss ‘em.”

They clean up their lunches and Tony reads over his notes again. As the meeting time grows closer, the room starts to fill with people. There’s polite murmuring among the group and Peter does his best not to eavesdrop. It’s full to capacity by the time, a woman greets them both warmly and then calls everyone to attention.

“I want to turn you over to our esteemed guest, Mr. Tony Stark.” Applause from around the conference table and Peter wonders awkwardly if he should be clapping too. As he’s puzzling over the implications of clapping versus not clapping, the group moves on, their attention completely focused on Tony, at the head of the table.

“You know who I am so we won’t waste anymore time on that.” A confident smile curls at Tony’s lips. “I do want to introduce you to my intern Peter.” He gestures to Peter, who in lieu of saying anything, settles for a quick wave. He hopes he wasn’t supposed to say anything.

Tony continues talking, “I have a lot of proposals come across my desk, but this one was exceptional, the possibilities of application are endless…”

Peter zones out a bit as the meeting winds on. There’s a back and forth, then question time before the meeting ends around lunch time.

Tony drops back in his seat after the last person, a chatty man in a silver tie, files out.

“That went well.”

Peter is watching him and playing with a pen between his fingers, “Yeah, it seemed to. These guys are really smart.”

“Did you get a copy of the prospectus?” Tony asks, glancing over at him.

“Oh, no I didn’t get one.” Peter glances around his spot at the table, just in case he’s overlooked it.

“Here,” Tony slides the thick packet over, “read it.”

And Peter does, it doesn’t take him long to get to the particulars.

He pores over the details. It’s for a mobile robot that could source its own energy needs. It consumed metal by breaking down its chemical bonds and converted it to stored energy, like a battery.

“This is so cool.” Peter marvels. He could think of several applications just off the top of his head.

Tony smiles, “I knew you’d appreciate it.”

“Are you buying the patent?”

“I’m buying the company.” Mr. Stark smirks but then he holds up a finger. “That’s confidential, it’s not official. Gotta convince Pep first.” Tony had a leather satchel and he slips his documents inside. “Ready to head out?”

“Yeah sure.” Peter gathers his own papers. “Where’s Happy?”

“I have him running point on a few things.” Mr. Stark doesn’t elaborate and Peter follows him out. They drop their badges off and head out into the late afternoon sunshine.

There’s a silver Audi parked in a reserved spot and Peter doesn’t waste time wondering how it got there. As with most things involving Tony, it just was. They get in and buckle up.

“Any idea what you want for dinner?”

“I’m good with whatever. “

“Any thoughts? Now’s your chance.” Tony merges into the flow of traffic and accelerates, the engine purrs as it picks up speed.

Peter shrugs, he doesn’t really know any places up here aside from fast food restaurants and he doesn’t think that’s what Mr. Stark would want.

Tony drums his thumbs on the steering wheel, thinking. “You ever been to The Cheesecake Factory?”

Pete blinks. There was one in Queens but it was more for tourists and proms. Plus it was kind of pricey. He and May frequented the quieter, family owned restaurants around their apartment.

“Maybe once with Ned?” He really wasn’t sure.

“So it’s been a while?” Tony shoots him a look from the corner of his eye. “Sound ok to you?”

“Sure, sounds good. I’m totally good with whatever, Mr Stark.”

They park near the restaurant and Tony sheds his jacket and tie, tossing them in the back. They’re seated right away and the waitress drops off bread.

Peter is happy to find that the portions are huge and the bread basket bottomless. By the time they finish their cheesecake, he’s actually comfortably full.

“I didn't know Tony Stark ate anywhere like the Cheesecake Factory.” Peter teases

“Jokes on you, Tony Stark once ate a two day old cheese burger off the floor. Not one of my finer moments and also one I’d encourage you not to repeat.” Tony’s self deprecating smile almost masked the flash of emotion behind his eyes but not quite.

Peter falls back on a joke to head off any awkwardness, “You only do that with gummy bears, Mr Stark.”

Tony gives him a long look and then narrows his eyes.

“I was eight!” Peter says defensively.

Tony’s tone is pure skepticism. “Sure you were.”

The waitress comes back with the bill. . “ Here’s this whenever you're ready. Your to-go order and cheesecakes are coming. We’re just getting them bagged up now.”

“Piece to go?” Peter wonders.

Tony’s mouth quirks, “A piece? I got a whole cake. Pep would kill me if I didn’t bring her some.”

He flips open the card holder and signs the top copy with typical flourish. Peter notices in spite of himself that the tip line has a couple of extra zeros for their waitress. Tony slips his card back into his wallet.

“I don’t know why they don’t take Starkpay.” He mutters to himself as much as Peter. “We gotta make that more of a thing.”

it makes Peter feel funny to have Tony pay for him. He’s aware that Tony foots lots of bills but he doesn’t want the man to feel like it’s expected.

The drive back to the hotel is in comfortable silence. Peter doesn’t feel like he needs to fill the space with words, he feels valued and understood. He can count on one hand the places in his life that fill him with this kind of contentment.

“The Midwest isn’t a bad place to live.” Tony ruminates. “I’ve blown through here a couple of times, used to stay at the Omni. There’s a great little curry shop downtown, only open for two hours a day, but that is some great pakora.”

“What’s it called?” Peter’s curiosity gets the better of him.

“Mr. Curry.” Tony answers and then grins.

Peter’s laugh surprises him. There’s nothing really funny about it but everything seems light and easy right now.

“Next time, remind me to take you up to the bakery in Kirkwood.’” Tony says thoughtfully, “The cookies? You’ll love ‘em. He’s a fully trained chef with a little hole in the wall shop. It’s pretty cool.”

The sun had set when they were in the restaurant and the world was muted and dark. The lights from the stores and other cars blur together and Peter is overcome with a feeling somnolence. He can suddenly barely keep his eyes open.

Tony pulls the Audi into the hotel lot and parks it in a smooth motion.

“Hey, Pete,” He calls, his voice low. “We’re here, bud.”

Peter blinks slowly and wipes at his eyes with his palms. “Ok.” He picks up his things and they head inside. The lights of the lobby are a little blinding after being outside, causing Peter to squint under the glare.

Tony hands off his cheesecake to the front desk and they take the elevator upstairs. Peter slumps against the wall. He notices that Tony still has a bag in his hand and when Peter looks at it, he lifts it up and smiles.

“Happy. He’s a late eater,” He explains.

Peter nods, but doesn't speak, words are just a bridge too far right now, which is very unlike him.

He gets his ley in the reader and the door opens. Tony lingers for a moment.“You need anything? Glass of water? Pillow menu?”

“P- There’s a pillow menu?” Peter’s not quite sure if Tony’s teasing or not, but he considers, “Nah, I'm good, Mr. Stark. Thanks for dinner.” Thanks for everything.

“Sleep tight, kid. You did good today.” Tony’s smile is warm and fond. “See you in the morning, he heads off to find Happy.

Buoyed by the praise Peter shuts his door, showers and brushes his teeth. He nearly forgets to set his alarm, but catches it before collapsing into bed and falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

When Peter wakes up, he feels well-rested for the first time in a long time. He has to admit that this has been a nice vacation from New York. He showers, dresses and packs up his clothes and phone charger. He pushes the curtains back and takes in the view one more time. He’s kind of going to miss it here.

Gathering up his bag, he looks out the window one, more time before texting Mr. Stark and Happy that he was on his way down stairs. When he steps off the elevator, he finds Tony in the seating area and he’s just sitting down when Happy shows up.

“You’re looking better.” Happy comments, setting down a coffee carrier and handing him a cup. “Got your usual.”

“Oh thanks!” Peter takes his. It’s sweet and hot and he sighs into it happily. Only to look up and see Tony watching him with gentle amusement.

“Coffee, Am I right?” Tony smiles and reaches for his own cup.

“Yeah.” Peter takes another drink. “So the beds here are amazing. It was like being eaten by a marshmallow. Or maybe a cloud.”

Happy snorts and Tony grins at his phone, “There might be a future for you in advertising.”

They take their coffee and drive over to what amounts to an elaborate networking session with brunch being served. Of course, everyone wanted to talk to Mr. Stark so Peter kept close to Happy and munched his way through all four flavors of bagel. Not quite up to New York standards, but passable.

A few people do talk to him and ask about his internship. Fortunately, they’d worked the particulars of that cover story out long ago. He sticks mostly to the script, but tells one woman that he’s also into web design, only to be interrupted by Happy choking on his orange juice.

It takes a while to extricate themselves. Mr. Stark seems intent on making himself accessible. Although he’s not big on shaking hands, he does listen carefully when people talk to him. It strikes Peter that Tony Stark the businessman is a very different animal from Tony Stark, the Avenger, who shows up late for briefings just to troll Captain America. He’s glad he’s in a position to witness both.

They make it out mid afternoon, just beating rush hour.

“Pepper wants you to sign these.” Happy hurries up the steps and thrusts a leather portfolio at Tony.

Peter falls back in his seat, he’d slept last night but drowsiness persists.

The jet is dimmer than he remembers and warm. He can hear the scratch of Tony’s fountain pen against paper as he goes over the contracts. It relaxes him

He finds his eyes slipping closed. At some point he wakes up to find a blanket tucked around his shoulders and Tony watching him with a warm expression full of fondness.

“Go back to sleep, bud.”

And he does, easily.

He wakes to Tony gently shaking his knee. Peter stretches,

Happy’s head was rolled back against the seat, snoring solidly, but as soon as he realizes where they are, he springs into action.

It takes a while but they finally make it into Queens and Happy sits idling in the street while cars weave around them, honking

“This is for May.” Tony casually hands Peter a Cheesecake Factory bag.

“Oh wow.” Peter sniffs the bag, its definitely chocolate.

Tony regards him through the rolled down window, “Ok, take care. Stay out of trouble.”

Peter scoffs, “Of course.” They both know that’s a lie, Tony laughs.

“Bye Peter.” Happy calls impatiently, but Peter doesn’t take offense.

“Goodbye, drive safe!” He calls after the Departing Bentley.

Peter turns and bounds up the steps with the bag.

“May?”He calls when he opens the apartment door.

“Hey Baby.” May lights up when she sees him and he closes in on her for a quick hug.

He pulls back and shows her the bag, “Tony sent you a cheesecake.”

“That was thoughtful. Put it in the fridge.” She tucks her hair up. “You’re gonna help me eat it, right? Right?” When he doesn't answer her immediately she nudges him with her elbow.

“Depends on what flavor it is.”

“Thai tonight?”

“Sure, you know how I love a good larb.”

“And the larb loves you.” She quips pulling a plate from the drying rack and putting it up in the cabinet. “So how was your trip?”

“Good!” Peter washes his hands and grabs a handful of silverware to toss in the drawer.

“It worked.” He makes short work of tossing everything into the various slots and turns to look at her.

“What worked?” Her face is the picture of innocence.

“Come on.” Peter gives her a look.“You guys think I wouldn’t figure it out?

May’s eyes take on a serious tone and she reaches up and shifts a couple of his curls back into place. “He was worried. We both were. And for the record, you look less like the walking dead and a lot more like Peter.”

“Yeah, I feel more like him too,” He smiles.

“Ok, I’m going to go get ready for dinner.” She sweeps out of the kitchen, “be ready in ten!”

Peter grabs his bag and heads to his room, his phone starts ringing and he accepts the Facetime call.

“Hey!”

“ Just wanted to make sure you got home ok.”

“Yeah, Mr. Stark. You just saw me like an hour ago,” Peter teases.

“Well you never know, it’s a fast paced world, Mr. Parker.” Tony is leaning back with a washcloth covering his eyes.

Peter frowns, “Are you ok?”

“Just winding down after a hard couple day's work.”

Peter hears the soft sloshing of water, “Wait, are you in the bathtub?” He demands incredulously, squinting at the screen, were those <i>bubbles?</i>

“Yep, creature comforts and all, don’t knock it til you- oop, oh shit.”

The view shifts as the phone falls sideways, then a distinct ‘bloop’ and the viewscreen goes a blurry iridescent to blue then black.

“Mr. Stark?”

Friday’s voice comes over the blackened screen. “Mr. Stark is no longer connected.”

Peter blows out a laugh and then he chortles, he so cannot wait for the next lab day.

#friendly-neighborhood-exchange #@wonkystank #exchange fic #moodboardbyme

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starkergames · 5 years ago

Photo

Title: New Years Artists: @lilsoshie (Sketch), @iammagicfishhook (Lineart), @marveling-marvelous (Color) Writer: @darker-soft-starker The years will change and people will change as much as they stay the same. Some changes though, Tony finds, he really doesn’t mind.

Fic below the cut

Some things never change.

Like, being riddled with nerves whilst attending big events.

Or, the little ticks he’s adopted to mitigate the uneasiness, like bouncing his leg up and down, firing off questions to anyone in earshot like, do you think they’ll have sushi at this thing, I have a craving.

Or Pepper singing along to whatever is playing on the car ride over, and Morgan answering his inane questions with things like, ew, sushi.

Some things do change, though.

Like, coming back to life after five years of being dead.

Or being delegated to the backseat next to his daughter, despite the honourable resurrection. Or having his wife remarry in the years following his death.

You know, typical resurrection things, like realizing that the entire world and everyone you knew has changed.

Tony’s got a thing about control. Always has. He likes to know, has to know, all of the variables. He thought he knew all of them before he snapped his fingers and prayed to the stones in his gauntlet.

Here’s the thing about infinity stones: they’re sentient. They like balance.

They’re also assholes with a perverted sense of symmetry.

Somehow, perfect balance and perfect symmetry translated into bringing Tony back to life after five years. Or, being suspended in the ether that was neither life, nor death, the holding cell between worlds.

That was the airy-fairy, hand-wavey way that Strange explained to him. Sparkles and mystery. But Tony doesn’t remember any of it. The not being alive. One moment his heart was giving out, the next he was clawing himself out of the earth.

That was pleasant.

Emerging dirty and naked to find he’d missed five years of his life was also a barrel of laughs. Missing five years of his daughters growth, finding out his wife had moved on? Hilarious. Best cosmic joke to have happened to him yet.

Though, Tony supposes this is how the recovered Snap victims felt, after. Chasing and chasing the years that were missed, feeling as if they will never be completely caught up.

But that was months ago, his resurrection. Reawakening. Whatever. Seven months and three and a half weeks, if he’s counting. He’d say he isn’t, but he definitely is.

He’d used the time mostly caught up on the life of his friends and family, shed his tears. He’s lamented Steve, grieved over Natasha all over again. Wondered why the divine equilibrium didn’t include her sacrifice.

But he’s learned to be okay. He’s living back at the re-built compound with Clint and Wanda and the old-new crowd of super-people that populate the place he used to call home.

He doesn’t don the suit, hasn’t since he came back, worried that the moment he activates the housing unit that it will all be over, and Morgan will lose her father for the second time.

He’s a consultant, now, for the new team. Financier. Benefactor. It’s very boring.

“You sure you want to go to this thing,” Tony says again, stretching his legs so his knees hit the driver's seat in front of him, where Peppers’ new husband sits. “You don’t want a quiet one at home? Ring in New Years with the llamas?”

“Morgan wants to go,” Pepper repeats, peering back to smile at her daughter. “Right, sweetpea?”

Beside Tony, Morgan looks up from her hand-held video game and nods vehemently, smiling brightly. Tony feels betrayed by her enthusiasm.

“Are they paying you to say that?” he leans in, whispering close to her ear. “You can tell me Morgasboard, name your price. I’ll beat it.”

His daughter flicks her gaze between her mother and Tony. She leans into her father and whispers loud enough for the entire car to hear, “Uncle Peter is going to be there. I haven’t seen him in forever.”

Tony sighs exaggeratedly, nodding along, even though he knows she saw him two weeks ago.

“Forever is a long time,” he agrees.

That was another change that Tony feels weird and wonderful about.

Somehow, in the time that he was six-feet-under, his former protege had become something akin to family to his daughter. Which, if he’s honest, in the years after the Snap, was the goal, the dream as he skipped through time with the Avengers, the proverbial what if that drove him to say yes that one, final time.

Happy families, he’d thought. What else could two wayward orphans hope for?

Tony’s at least glad that Peter got that part of the deal. That Morgan got Peter.

Even if Tony didn’t really have either, after.

“Uncle Peter could go back to the compound or the penthouse with us,” Tony offers, nudging his daughter. “You could ask DUM-E to be your new years kiss.”

“You have a speech scheduled, right, babe?” Peppers husband, Greg, cuts in. He was hired as CFO of SI three years ago and it was heart eyes at first sight, Tony is told. He watches as Greg frees one of his grubby hands from the steering wheel to reach across the console and squeeze her knee.

“Sure do,” Pepper smiles, snaking her hand down to clutch his, squeezing their fingers together.

Tony’s not jealous. No, really. He’s adjusted, he’s over it.

But he’s still Tony Stark, so he’s unapologetically petulant. And it’s Pepper, what kind of ex would he be if he didn’t properly field the prospects of the one woman he truly loved?

Feigning a stretch, he kicks his feet out again and jolts the driver's seat, delight welling up when Greg huffs irritatedly. Morgan giggles as if it’s some kind of game, and all the adults pretend that it is to please her.

The unimpressed stare from his ex-wife caught through the rear-view mirror does little to dampen his satisfaction.

It’s the little wins, Tony thinks, as they pull up to the building, paparazzi huddling around the rope barriers that flank the red carpet, flashes firing through the tinted windows as they come to a stop.

Just because some things change, doesn’t mean he has to.

It’s that mentality that gets him through the dreaded, interminable walk from the car to the ballroom entrance. This is old hat, he tells himself as he waves to the crowd. You could do this with your eyes closed. God, he used to be so good at pretending to care about this kind of crap.

Reporters brandish their network-issued microphones at him, at his family. Fans shoulder against security, all of them yelling out in a cacophony of noise he might call white were it not the sound of his own name, in all of its iterations.

Although he’d rather make a beeline straight to the ballroom he stops and greets a few fans, shakes a few hands, high-fives a few kids. After a slew of signings and selfies the comparatively calm interior of the ballroom is blissfully welcomed. The quartet supplying tunes in the far corner is a reprieve.

So is the way that Pepper clutches Greg’s hand and leads him away at the same time Morgan clutches Tony’s. She looks back and says, be good. Tony doesn’t know if she’s directing it to him or their daughter.

Socialites swan around them, but Tony just looks down at his daughter and smiles. He squeezes her tiny fingers.

“You wanna dance, Morgarita?”

Her serious expression turns gleeful as she drags him to the centre of the room to dance without a shred of shyness.

She’s a lot like she was before he died. Smart and mischievous, cute as a button. But she’s markedly different, caught in that pre-teen phase where she’s gaining modicums of independence. Tony’s getting used to not needing to make all her meals or do her hair for her. He kinda misses it.

Little things. It’s always the little things.

She’s taller now, too. That was a change, to have his daughters head rest against his chest when she hugs him. She’s too tall to be picked up, too proud when Tony offers. So she wraps her arms around his midsection and they sway together on the dancefloor.

Only a few couples are dancing. The night is still young. But, like anything in high society, it’s all smoke and mirrors.

Which means most guests are mingling, telling each other how beautiful and fabulous they are, filling the room with so much re-circulated pomp and hot air the room is practically a hotbox.

Of course it’s a business event as much as it is a philanthropic one, so not even Tony can avoid the inevitable schmoozing that comes along with it. When Morgans tired feet demand a break they seek out seats and snacks - and they too, are sought out.

To his ire, associates come and go like a conveyor belt to shake his hand, politicians and socialites thank him for reversing the Snap, the Blip, the Click, the Dusting, all of the stupid names and his daughter is sitting right there, growing more and more morose at each mention of the worst thing that ever happened to her.

So Tony looks down at his daughter, mid conversation with a senator and says, “Hey, sweet child of mine, wanna go to the dessert table?”

She perks up at that and is off like a rocket to the other side of the room where swathes of mouth-watering sweets are spread over an eighteen foot table.

Tony follows her beeline without saying goodbye to the senator, mentally rubbing his hands together at the grub. He’s sure he will pay for directing his daughter to a trove of sugar and hyperactivity. But desperate times.

Who is he kidding. He’s going to need all the sweet stimulation he can possibly consume to get through this shit-show himself.

When he catches up Morgan already has chocolate smeared on her lips. Fancy desserts perch daintily upon gold lined plates, on tiered stands. Thin streams of velvety, liquid chocolate trickle out of apex fountains, flakes of edible gold cover the setting.

She points excitedly with messy fingers to the ones she wants Tony to try. He should resist, right? He’s really isn’t supposed to eat dairy. That, along with his faulty levels of serotonin, was something the all powerful stones failed to fix. Which was really just plain lazy, if you ask him.

But he spies a flamboyant looking fruit-pastry and thinks, fuck it.

Then he sees a yellow-treat that makes his mouth water and thinks, I can work it off tomorrow.

He reaches over and crams an entire portugese egg tart in his mouth, cheeks bulging like a chipmunk. Morgan laughs, tipping her neck back in unbridled delight.

“Do it again!” she says, bouncing on her feet.

He does. And then again, and again.

Which is how Peter Parker finds him no more than ten minutes later.

“Mr. Stark!”

Tony nearly chokes in his haste to chew and swallow the pastry when Peter swans into view, dressed to the nines and grinning a mile wide. He hears Morgan gasp delightedly beside him, running off to catch up with the younger man while Tony tries not to quietly asphyxiate.

Swallowing roughly, Tony gives him a thumbs up.

Several feet away, Morgan throws her gangly arms around Peter. She buries her head into his chest, just like she does with Tony, brown hair cascading over her shoulders as she embraces him tightly. Peter settles his arms around her neck and leans down to kiss the crown of her head, whispering something to hear that Tony can’t hear.

There’s a weird pang somewhere behind his ribs at the sight.

He swipes his half-empty flute of champagne and downs the remainder in one gulp to cover it.

“Mr. Parker,” Tony greets, rocking on his feet when his daughter and former protege walk back to him hand-in-hand. “Didn’t know you owned a suit in your size.”

The younger man holds his free arm out, twisting it to test the fit. It’s a grey suit with a maroon dress-shirt, tailored to perfection. It looks new.

Peter smiles. The action has creases forming at the corners of his eyes; a small, subtle nod to the years Tony missed. Gone is all of his baby fat, his face angular and defined. He holds himself with more self-assuredness, even now.

He wouldn’t say it aloud, but Peter grew up handsome.

Worse, he grew up to be Tony’s type.

“Oh, this? I didn’t pick it - but it’s nice, right?”

“Yeah. You, uh,” Tony swallows roughly, eyeing the man from head to toe. “You look good. You clean up well, kid.”

Peter rubs the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly at the compliment.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark. You - you too. You look... good. Really good.”

Peter meets his gaze, his cheeks a furious shade of pink.

The motion of the room slows as he watches the sparkle reach Peter’s eyes. Everything in his peripherals becomes dull, unfocused. His own heartbeat jackrabbits against his chest and his sure his face is doing something without his permission.

Tony’s throat clicks when he swallows.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Peter nods, stepping closer.

Now, Tony thinks, staring at Peter’s face, the earnest smile still tugging at his lips. Now is the time he would say something to curdle the mood.

Peter being a full-fledged, rent-paying adult adult is new. Being on an even footing with Tony as a person and a professional is new. There’s so much new about him that Tony still has to learn.

There’s plenty that has stayed the same. His soft-spoken, courteous nature, his ethics.

But Tony can read the unfamiliar in Peter’s posture as much as he does the carefully curated vocabulary, how he stops himself from stammering into subjects he might have stepped into, before. The barely-there lines of age around his eyes, the confident squaring of his shoulders.

And how Tony finds that his imperfect teeth compliment the ever-wayward hairs of his eyebrows - and how all of it, all of Peter, is now somehow charming, rather than awkward.

“How have you been, Mr. Stark?” Peter asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets and shuffling forward

“Good,” Tony says, lips stretching onto the first genuine smile of the night. He’d try to tug those corners down, were it not for the infectious way Peter’s mouth does the same. “You?”

“Good, yeah. Super busy.”

“That’s good. Good to keep busy, as they say.”

“Yeah,” Peter nods. “It is good. Keeping busy. And how are you? -- Wait, shit, sorry, I already asked that.”

“This one keeps me going,” Tony tugs on a lock of Morgan's hair, taking mercy on him. “You been too busy to see the news about Spider-Man? I know you’re a fan.”

Peter steps closer again, clasping his hands behind his back, smiling coyly as those around them perk up in interest.

“Which news?”

“Taking down Kingpins empire. Fisk behind bars.”

“Oh, I think I heard something about that.”

Tony nods.

“What a guy. New York’s never looked cleaner. Although, take that from a guy who hasn’t seen the city for five years.”

“That’s some high praise,” Peter says, wringing his hands together as he nears.

“He’s a hero,” Tony looks to his daughter. With an affirmative nod of dark hair she concurs.

“I think he’s just a regular guy,” Peter huffs, snorting when Morgan giggles knowingly.

Before Tony can inch closer, maybe to do something impulsive like what his hands have been itching to do and grip the lapels of Peter’s suit jacket, the moment is broken by a nearby cry.

“Peter! There you are!”

Sweat beading along his receding hairline, a heavy arm slung over Peter’s shoulders, Otto Octavius swims into view, nodding politely at Tony and Morgan.

“You’re a slippery one, Parker,” he says, shaking Peter’s shoulders. “Been looking for you.”

“Otto, this is --”

“ -- Got some guys that want to meet you,” Octavius interrupts, thick fingers squeezing Peters bicep. He leans in and and whispers in a way Tony is sure is meant to be discreet, “They’re keen to meet the brains behind the project; come say hi.”

Another change Tony never counted on was the trajectory Peter’s life took after his passing.

Peter never went to MIT like Tony had dreamed for him. He went to Empire State University.

Pepper informed Tony that she in fact had reached out prior to his graduation and offered him a position. But Peter had declined. He hadn’t said why, but he’d chosen to work under Otto Octavius at Octavius Industries instead.

One thing that Tony learned in his short time back in the land of the living was that Otto was infamously proud of his new employee and favoured immensely.

It’s what Tony would have wanted for Peter, really. Doing what he loves, being given the respect his intellect and kind heart deserves. He seems to be happy and all grown up. As if Tony needs the reminder.

It’s just that Otto was always an insufferable do-gooder. Save the trees, save the bees. ALl noble notions that Tony agrees with - but Otto is like the human personification of a PETA ad. He’d never been a fan of Tony’s, even after he reformed, literally.

Still, do-gooder or not. There’s something about him. Something that Tony doesn’t like. Just a vibe he has. He’s got good instincts after all of these years and he knows he’s got a solid hunch. There’s something about that man, he knows it.

It’s got nothing to do with the proprietary hand Otto has on Peters shoulder, like the younger man is just a thing to show off. Or how Tony wanted to be the one doing that.

It’s got nothing to do with the way Peter’s suit perfectly fits his frame, or how the maroon and grey compliments his clear, milky skin.

It’s definitely not related to the way Tony’s heart beats just a little bit faster when Peter is in the room.

Yeah.

“Um, I’ll just be a minute,” Peter smiles apologetically at the Starks, eyes softening at Morgans pout. “I won’t be long, you owe me a dance little miss, remember?”

Tony waves dismissively at him, reaching for another flute of champagne from a passing waiters tray. He swallows another generous mouthful, bubbles burning on their way down.

With Morgan munching on a gold flaked cheesecake at his side, Tony watches as the young hero is led away. Otto’s hand on his back, guiding him to make nice with some university hacks. Five years ago Peter would have fumbled through these introductions. He would have gone bright red and blurted some weird factoid to make conversation.

But he’s polished now, Tony watches. Not perfect, but his posture says confident adult, not awkward teenager, like the last time he wore a suit around Tony. This suit really does fit him like a glove. His handshake looks strong, too. Firm.

Were Peter’s hands always that big?

Tony sips his champagne, observing the girth of his former mentee’s fingers. It’s not until he feels the burn of Morgans stare on the side of his face that he breaks his gaze.

“What,” he says.

She points a chocolate covered finger at his face.

“You know how I feel about people holding up one finger at me. If you’re gonna do it, it should be the middle one.”

“You like him.”

Tony huffs, rolling his eyes. “Of course I like him. He’s your Uncle Pete.”

“No, dad, you like like him. You want to be his boyfriend.”

“What -- I do not,” Tony says, casting her an incredulous stare.

“You do. You want to marry him,” she says, scrunching up her face and making kissy noises.

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“I --” he huffs, gesturing to the room at large as his words run away from him. “Do not. I’m the adult. You’re the child. I’m right, you’re wrong. Case closed.”

“Dad.”

“Fine, here,” he fishes out his wallet from his back pocket and slips a crumpled fifty out. He waves it in her face. “Take this and never speak about it again.”

“Can I speak about it to mom?”

He slips out another fifty and hands it to her.

“No.”

She smiles, neatly folding the notes and tucking it into her little bag. Tony stuffs another tart down his throat, knowing he’s been played.

She really is his kid.

----

It’s not that Tony doesn’t know.

He knows.

It’s familiar after decades of experience. That weird feeling he gets. The fluttering of his heart, the topsy-turvy motion in his stomach, were he any younger he might call them butterflies.

He just doesn’t get it.

There’s a lot of things that were jarring when he awoke, soil under his fingernails as he tore through the earth in the desperate search for oxygen. He remembers waking up, confused and naked, body restored to the moment before he snapped his fingers. He remembers stumbling onto a rebuilt compound, unable to speak, learning that the entire world had moved on and changed without him.

With FRIDAY as his guide Tony had seen all of the monuments and the altars in his name, fresh bouquets propped against them, even years after his death. The adoration and the glorification immortalised in murals and statues, in grants in his name, in tell-all books.

They’d even made a shitty movie about his life.

The actor who played him was too short and the woman who played Pepper wore a wig. It was funny. Not like, funny haha, but funny in that uncanny, meta photo-within-a-photo kind of way.

But when Peter had come to the compound that first time and they talked after they both finished crying -- it was different. And every time after, it was different.

It was… awkward. At first, they didn’t know how to be around each other, automatically falling into old molds of mentor and protege. It was almost immediately clear that their old roles weren’t going to work -- too much between them had altered to fit back into the old model.

They needed to recalibrate, and quickly.

Their dynamic did change. If Tony thought about it long enough, innocently enough, he might dare to call it a friendship.

He would, but there was that feeling in his chest. Beat, beat, bang.

It was a work in progress, to reconcile the flutter in his stomach with the Peter now, with the Peter that was, before. A man who had lost all his baby fat, who was old enough to have colourful stories and a wealth of life experience, who had remarkably broad shoulders looked damn good holding a wrench.

It was the hands.

They looked very dexterous. Capable.

But that didn’t stop him from spiraling into deep, existential pockets of despair as he wondered if the stones really thought it was best to revive him so he could actively thirst over someone he used to be responsible for.

Peter is barely fifteen years older than his daughter. He’s lost count how many real and missing years are between them now between death and the Snap. Five a piece.

He can’t tell his road-runner heart if that’s better or worse, though.

But, too high on the adrenaline of seeing Peter, he forgets to tell his body to stop, to remind his stupid heart that this one is not available.

----

Sometime after eleven the gala is in full swing. The mood perks right up in anticipation of the New Year.

Most of the remaining guests are pleasantly tipsy by this point, if not outright drunk. All of the stirring speeches have been made, Peppers included.

Tony tried to listen, however got distracted by - well, anything. But the effort was there. Something about giving and starting the year fresh, clean slates.

The relaxed atmosphere has more couples dancing on the floor. The Mayor and his wife stumble over each other, moguls and A-Listers mingle and take selfies against attractive backdrops.

Even Morgan grew tired of Tony’s ornery approach to the evening, departing with a kiss to his cheek to dance with her mother.

Tony forgets, sometimes. That people expect something of him, something more. Like his resurrection was divine intervention, and if the universe intended him to be here, surely it was for a purpose higher than acting like a morose old man, hiding in the corners of ballrooms.

It’s just. He doesn’t know where his place is anymore.

Norman Osborne stops by to crow about his latest achievements, his contract with the NYPD to provide surveillance towers all over the city. Tony’s seen them. They’re hard to miss.

“Design’s a little archaic, don’t you think? Not very discreet. A pettier man would say you were overcompensating for something.”

He’s not really paying attention as he’s speaking, too distracted by the debacle before him.

Harry Osborn and Peter dance together in the centre of the room, leaned in close to one another and snickering at what the other has said.

They look loose and comfortable around one another, as if they were old friends. Or something else.

Peter leans in close to Harry’s ear to whisper something, the flush on his face creeping down his neck. In one swift movement Tony throws back the rest of his champagne, wishing the liquid would drown him, stomach turning to cement.

Whatever Norman says in response goes unheard.

With the crowd dispersed, Peter catches Tony’s eye and waves exuberantly, nearly hitting Harry in the face.

Tony raises his glass, wincing.

At least some things stay the same.

“They roomed together at ESU,” Norman breaks Tony out of his musings.

Clearing his throat, Tony tries his best to appear indifferent. Why should he care? That’s right, he doesn’t. Not even remotely.

“I see.” Play it cool, he thinks. “They look close, are they —?”

Nailed it.

“No. They tried, but it didn’t work out. Harry’s engaged now.”

“Huh.”

“But Peter is always welcome in our home,” Norman drawls. “He’s like a second son, really. Wasn’t he your protege once?”

Osborn is so smarmy. All at once Tony remembers why he hates this man and his dumb, weathered face. His covetous tone makes Tony want to hurl, or send a suit to the nearest Oscorp building and play rain of fire.

“Good god, imagine if he was your son,” Tony says blithely. “As if you need another one of those to mess up.”

Norman huffs.

“You’re hardly the authority on raising well adjusted children, Stark.”

Ire spears up hot to his throat, but before Tony can deliver a withering reply, he’s interrupted by the arrival of Pepper and Greg.

Morgan trails behind, dragging a laughing Peter with her by hand. She weaves her thin body through the crowd, having pulled the man away from his dance wearing identical grins.

He watches his daughter cut through swathes of the elite in a trail of chiffon, delight clear in the laughter that follows her. Tiny heels clack against the polished ballroom floor, and Peter indulges her mischief, catching Tony’s eye and winking as they near him.

It’s the first time he’s seen his whole family look truly carefree since he came back.

And Tony is where he should be. An inscrutable mass against the beige, peeling wallpaper.

The look of distaste on Normans face as he walks away is enough to dampen some of his churlishness as his family form before him. Pepper makes small talk with Peter and Greg smiles awkwardly at a passing senator. Morgan dives for a profiterole before anyone can stop her.

For a moment Tony feels like he’s in a McDonalds playground instead of an upper-class charity event.

Pepper must have had a hand in choosing Morgans dress, Tony thinks, because it has pockets. And, watching her as the adults talk, she sneaks handfuls of tarts and truffles into the grooves of her dress. Tony wants to laugh, to wink at her conspiratorially at the same time he wants to tuck her into bed, new years or not.

Morgan beckons Peter closer to the sweets table. The younger of the two piling her favourite sampled sweets onto a napkin and thrusts them towards Peter, fervently requesting that he try them, they’re so good, Uncle Peter.

“Not everyone wants dessert for dinner, little miss,” Tony reminds her, swiping a napkin off the table and wiping the melted chocolate off the corner of her mouth.

“I’m not a baby, dad,” she complains, taking the napkin from him.

He forgets that too, sometimes.

Peter smiles between them, delicately plucking a single strawberry off one of the offered miniature flans and popping it into his mouth.

Lust spears through him so suddenly Tony sways on his feet. Fuck.

His daughter and ex-wife are right there.

“Mr. Stark. Would you - uh,” Peter breaks off to swallow audibly. “Would you like to dance?”

Otto is by the bar. Harry, by the French Ambassador. Tony is in his self-made corner of the room, nibbling on vol-au-vents and sashimi to pass the time.

He can smell Peter’s cologne and his sweat when he steps closer and sheepishly offers his hand and Tony’s entire damn body wants to just reach out and interlock their fingers, to pull Peter close and breathe him in. Never has Tony wanted to bury himself in another body before and not come back out, not like this.

Tony would consume all of what Peter had to give, if Peter let him. The offering look in Peter’s eyes say that he would let him.

“I… uh,” Tony begins, searching for a quip to cover his falter. Smiling at his companions, Tony smooths his hand down his tie, pretending the curious looks of concern are just the alcohol. “I need fresh air.”

“Tony --”

“Mr. Stark --”

He waves them off and smiles apologetically at Peter.

“-- I’ll just be a sec. Is it hot in here? Is anyone else hot? I’m like, sweating here, wow. It’s just pooling under the armpits. I’ll just be a minute, excuse me --”

The crowd parts for him like the red sea as he marches through it in search of the nearest door. But he’s never felt less powerful in his entire life.

Or lives, as it were.

----

Outside, the air is blissfully fresh and cold. The rooftop is far less crowded than indoors, only a few patrons lean against the railing, cigarette smoke curling up from their fingers, some in quiet conversation with another.

There’s a carefully constructed pyramid of wide, vintage wine glasses brimming with champagne. He’s careful not to topple the entire thing over when he goes to reach for one. Overheated, even as the winter wind nips at him, he takes his drink and finds a quiet corner to sulk in.

Perching upon a stone bench away far away from the others, Tony tips his head up at the starless sky and huffs.

What the hell does he think he’s doing?

The New York City skyline is alight before him in all its glory, but the memory of how Peter’s face dropped flashes across Tony’s mind on a loop. He looked taken aback. Hurt even.

Shame wells up low in Tony’s stomach and doggedly stays there.

It’s for the best. Right? It has to be for the best. Peter deserves the best and Tony is not that.

It’s not right for him to want to fit himself into Peter’s life when he seems to be happy and successful without Tony - there’s one thing he knows unequivocally about himself is that he would ruin that. Ruin Peter, one of the few good things he has left.

His heart doesn’t get the memo.

Because when he closes his eyes, all he imagines is the way Peter’s firm body would feel against his. What it would feel like to curl together on the sofa, in bed, under the sheets. How his curls would tickle the underside of Tony’s chin, and what it would be like to trace the lines that branch from his eyes when he smiles, or to stroke the narrow slope of his nose as he sleeps.

It’s wrong.

It’s wrong because Tony doesn’t fit there. Not there, nor in all of the places he used to. He’s not Iron Man or a businessman. He’s not a husband or a full-time father. He’s not even Peter Parker's mentor.

What he is, for all of his resurrected glory, is an afterthought. A spectre, hovering in the fringes of all of the places he used to be the centre of.

He smiles, raising his glass to the smoking couple as they nod politely at him.

It’s fine. He’s happy that everyone is happy.

But it’s been months. He ain't Jesus, but surely by now he’d find some sense of purpose.

“Mr. Stark?”

When Tony opens his eyes Peter stands before him, clutching a perspiring glass of wine.

Tony doesn’t want to notice, but he does anyway. The look of concern written on his face is unmistakable, even in the dim lighting of the rooftop, the nearby flamelight serves to deepen the frown lines on his young face.

“Are you alright, Mr. Stark? Sorry to follow you out here, you just seem kind of...”

“Surly?” Tony guess. “I’m fine, kid. Just had a few too many. Didn’t want to hurl all over the drapes. No need to worry.”

“I was gonna say overwhelmed, but yeah,” Peter says, shifting closer until Tony’s bent knees hit the top of Peter’s thighs - his stomach swoops, again. “I’m gonna worry anyway.”

“Yeah, well, happy New Year,” Tony says dryly, knocking their glasses together.

Peter taps his smart-watch with a finger.

“Still got five minutes before that. Can’t break into Auld Lang Syne yet, Mr. Stark.”

“We could if we were in Halifax,” Tony counters. The younger man tilts his head agreeably and Tony calls the easing of tension from Peter’s shoulders a win.

“Let’s stick to New York.”

“Sure,” he agrees. “You don’t have somewhere you’d rather be? You got four-something minutes.”

“Right here, actually, if that’s okay with you.”

Tony doesn’t know if that’s frankness or fiction, but he smiles all the same, patting the slab of stone he’s sat upon invitingly.

“Well, come aboard, Mr. Parker.”

Without pause, Peter hoists himself on the bench with a single hand, delicately balancing the glass of champagne with the other. He shuffles to get comfortable, swinging his legs as he settles.

The firelight catches onto the curve of Peter’s curls, slicked down into wilted tendrils from the sweat dotting his hairline.

His heart is positively thunderous in his chest. He raises his hand to soothe it and at once, sickeningly, painfully misses the comforting heat of the arc reactor.

“You wanna talk about it?” Peter asks, after a moment.

Tony smiles wryly, mostly to himself. Of course, there’s nothing that escapes Peters notice.

“Trust me, kid. There’s not much to say.”

“I somehow doubt that,” Peter says, fishing something out of his pocket and handing it to Tony “I, uh, thought you liked those. I took the last one.”

It’s a portugese egg tart, Tony notes, warmed slightly from Peter’s body heat. Fuck. He does like them. They’re his favourite.

Tony pretends like his heart isn’t swelling to the point where it feels it's going to burst and breaks the tart in two, passing over the other half to Peter.

“Thanks, kid. Try some.”

They eat their halves in relative silence, save for the sound of chewing and Peter’s shoes hitting the stone as he swings his legs. But the mood grows quieter, noticeably pensive after they finish eating. It makes Tony’s skin crawl.

“You know,” Peter says softly, as if raising his voice would shatter the moment, “you’re not the only one to come back to find years lost. To find the world different. I know it’s not easy. Especially on nights like this.”

Tony swallows roughly, chasing it with a mouthful of champagne.

“You seem to have managed well.”

Peter huffs. “Oh yeah, real well. God, you don’t even know how --” his voice breaks off, voice wet with emotion. He looks away, throat bobbing as he gathers himself. “You just -- you don’t know.”

The moment feels fraught with enough gravity that it would bring the moon down between them.

“Hey,” Tony chides, trying to diffuse the heavy emotion with what levity he could utter. “Come on now, it’s supposed to be me out here maudlin. Don’t steal my thunder, Charlotte's Web.”

“Sorry,” Peter says, cracking a smile. “I’ll try to pencil in sad hours for later.”

“Appreciated.”

A comfortable silence settles between them. A woman, visibly drunk, passes them and raises her glass to Tony, the liquid sloshing out from the glass and down her arm. She doesn’t seem to notice, smiling and stumbling away.

That would have been Tony ten years ago (in his lived years). On the weekends without Morgan, sometimes it still is.

“Got any resolutions, Mr. Stark?”

Tony snorts. “Shit, kid, I don’t know. Take Morgan to Saturn. Run for president, get back on the Cosmo’s Bachelor of the Year.”

“Most people just join a gym.”

“I didn’t come back to life to break my hip on a treadmill,” Tony says, offended. “What about you, Peter Rabbit?”

Peter takes a sip of his drink as he visibly deliberates. Wayward drops of champagne gather at the corner of his mouth before he scoops them with his tongue, eyes drifting to the glittering skyline.

“Yeah. I’m trying to get this guy that I’m into to take me seriously.”

Tony hums, stomach dropping.

“Some guy, huh?”

“Yeah. I’ve known him since I was fifteen and I’m like, super into him, but he still sees me as a child.”

His stomach swoops back up.

“Well,” Tony clears his throat, daring to hope, “this guy’s an idiot if he can’t see you for the man you are. You’re a catch.”

Peter shrugs, inching closer as he adjusts his balance. Their hands are nearly touching and Tony can feel the heat radiating from the man's body and he hates himself for it, just a little bit, he’s too old to feel like a kid with a crush again.

“He’s not an idiot. Well, he is, sometimes. Not all the time.”

“You sure this guy is good enough for you?”

“Yeah,” Peter nods, looking out at the skyline again. “He’s just lost. I can wait.”

“What if he’s not right for you?” Tony says, throat closing unexpectedly. “What if he’s not worth the wait?”

Peter shuffles closer.

“He has been so far,” he says, bravely extending his pinkie so it curls atop Tony’s. In the cool night air the touch of skin against skin is scorching. “Worst case scenario has already happened. I’ve already lost him in the worst possible way. I could do without him calling me kid all the time though.”

“He makes no promises on that.”

“I thought as much.”

“You deserve better than lost, Pete,” Tony says around the lump in his throat. For a moment he can’t speak, the memories of electricity ripping through his body in a moment of love much like the feeling he has now. “You deserve the best.”

But Peter doesn’t say anything. He tugs on their linked pinkies to intertwine their fingers, resting them in the interstice of their pressed thighs. Tony doesn’t miss how Peter’s palms are damp against his, how they tremble ever so slightly. It’s grounding, to know Peter is as nervous as he is.

When he gets brave enough to stroke the back of Peters hand with his thumb some of the mired shame melts away.

“Deserve is subjective,” Peter says, squeezing Tony’s fingers. “And I decide he is the best.”

“What if he wants you back,” Tony whispers, shifting closer on the stone until their sides are entirely flush together. “But he has nothing to offer you. Doesn’t fit in with your life.”

“What about what I can offer him?” Peter clutches his hand tighter, raising it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss on the back of Tony’s hand. “What if I'm there while he finds his way?”

“Pete.”

“You have time, Mr. Stark. You can figure the rest out as it comes to you.”

“And until then?”

“You go with the flow.”

“How?”

“Like this,” Peter whispers, pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss.

Closing his eyes, Tony leans into it and lets himself fall. Peters lips feel soft, pillowy, the kiss chaste and unassuming. When Peter pulls back he looks dazed, which is silly, because that was a tease for Tony.

Eyes on the glistening bow of Peter’s lips, he wants to dive in and tug it between his teeth. So he does.

“That’s -- yeah,” Tony says, sliding their noses together, “Were you -- were you always this confident?”

“I’m not confident,” Peter replies, kissing him again, pulling back to exhale shakily against Tony’s lips. “Holy cow. That was, like, a super big risk for me. Wow. Did I fool you? Are you fooled?”

“Bamboozled,” Tony says, staring at Peter’s lips again. “Just to confirm, I’m the guy, right? Resolution guy?”

“Y-yeah. Yes.”

“Good,” Tony says, cupping his cheeks and kissing him again.

Fireworks bathe the couple in an electric array of neons, and crowds can be heard cheering from all around them. Tony pulls away to see Peter illuminated in brilliant colour, lips wet and swollen.

“Is this okay?” Peter reaches his free hand up to cup Tony’s cheek. “Is it weird? It’s a bit weird. Right?”

“It’s weird. But weird-different,” Tony amends. “Good different, right?”

“Right.”

“I should, maybe, keep kissing you to be sure.”

Peter’s answering grin against his lips vivifies the lights exploding around them.

To the soundtrack of waning fireworks, Tony gets lost in learning how Peter kisses, the shape of his lips, how the heat of his tongue feels against his own.

Struck suddenly by a memory Tony pulls away from Peter to groan.

“What?” Peter queries, flushed and panting. “What’s wrong?”

“I literally paid Morgan a hundred bucks to not tell you I was hot for you.”

Peter balks, staring at Tony as if he were stupid.

“Um, I have enhanced hearing, remember? And she told me, like, two months ago.”

Tony squints.

“That little brat.”

——

The knowing smiles when they walk back into the ballroom from their family is a little uncalled for. Morgan is asleep in Peppers lap so she isn’t even awake to crow about her victory.

But the way Otto splutters as his eyes dart between the bruise on Tony’s neck and their joined hands is deeply worth it.

“Happy New Year, Mr. Octavius!” Peter beams, swinging their hands together.

“And - and you. Mr. Parker.”

“Sorry to drop this on you last minute, would you mind if I get another ride home?”

“Well, I --”

“Let me compensate you for the cab,” Tony offers, dropping Peter’s hand to wind his arm around the younger man's waist, pulling their sides flush together. “It’s the least I can do. Don’t worry, Peter’s ride will be very enjoyable.”

“I take it you’re not coming back to the penthouse,” Pepper cuts in, sharing a look with Greg.

“Yeah,” Tony nods, already pulling Peter away. “When Morguna wakes up from her beauty sleep tell her she owes me a cut of the winnings, okay? Good. Happy New whatever.”

They stop by the dessert spread on their way out.

-----

Their taxi driver sends them scalding stares from the front seat.

It’s fine, Tony will compensate him generously in tips. Though, if he were the driver, he’d probably be pissed too.

For all of his stealthyness as Spider-Man, Peter is not quiet right now. He bucks into Tony’s touch, rubbing his crotch against Tony’s hand. He breaks their kiss to moans lewdly into Tony’s mouth, breath hot against his face.

“Oh god,” he exhales shakily, tugging on Tony’s tie to bring their lips together in a filthy kiss.

“Good?” Tony mumbles against his lips, grinding his palm down harder. Peter nods, tilting his head back to groan as Tony’s mouth latches onto his neck. The creamy skin is mottled with teeth marks and barely blooming hickies.

Tony sucks and and laves his tongue over the heated skin to hear how his breath hitches, those high ahh-ahh’s that fall breathlessly out of his mouth, to hear him moan --

“M-Mr. Stark!”

Tony winces, pulling back.

He sighs. “Kid, if we’re doing this, you really gotta call me Tony.”

In an instant Peter’s face turns stony, somehow looking stern despite his swollen lips and wrinkled shirt. He looks like a petulant pitbull.

“If we’re doing this you really gotta stop calling me ‘kid’, Tony.”

Tony undoes the first button of Peter’s dress shirt, then the second, parting the folds of fabric to get a view of his collarbones.

“I suppose I would be amenable to such amendments, Peter,” he nods, “on the condition that you let me take you on a date.”

As Tony snakes a hand over the curves of his clavicle, Peter’s deft fingers undo the knot of Tony’s tie until it lies loose from his neck.

“I would be amenable to that. Conditions accepted.”

“Fantastic.”

“Yeah. I’m going to kiss you again now.”

“Okay. Yeah. Good.”

-----

With a heavy arm slung around his midsection, Tony finds out what Peter’s body feels like curled around his body when he wakes up the next morning.

There are a lot of little discoveries on New Years Day.

Like the feeling of Peter’s morning wood pressed pleasantly against his ass. Or how Peter squints adorably as he wakes up, as if he were confused by his own consciousness, his bedhead a mad nest of curls. Or how much Tony doesn’t mind the humid exchange of morning breath.

“Do you always take your first dates to bed?” Peter queries over breakfast, the ghost of a teasing smile on his face.

“That was not a date,” Tony points his fork at him. Scrambled egg falls from the utensil onto the table. “And we didn’t even have sex. That’s misleading, mister.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Tony sniffs.

“You’ll find out when we have our first date, won’t you? Friday at seven. Yes or yes?”

Peter sips his coffee to hide his smile, but Tony still sees it.

“Yes.”

-----

They got their date.

Six months after the New Years festivities comes Morgans eleventh birthday.

Tony’s had a lot of dates with a lot of people, including Peter, but nothing quite trumps this.

It’s a double date. With his ex-wife and her new husband. Plus twelve other kids and their parents at a McDonalds.

All four are seated at a table, Peter to his side, squirming on the terrible, hard chairs while Pepper and Greg sit opposite. Several servings of burgers and fries lay cold between them. Mostly melted McFlurries ooze off the provided plastic spoon when disinterestedly stirred.

It’s terribly romantic.

Morgan wanted McDonalds with her friends for her birthday, and before the big move to middle school. It fell on date night.

The garishly decorated diner is alive with the sounds of yelling and laughing, kids and their siblings running after one another, pushing each other down slides and following each other through narrow, plastic tunnels.

Tony’s never really been a double date kinda guy, particularly when it involves the mother of his child and his new, twenty-something lover. It was stilted in the beginning, made more awkward by Tony’s foursome jokes, but Peter keeps the conversation afloat, dipping the congealed fries into Tony’s melted ice cream.

He rubs Tony’s lower back as he speaks. Soothing, grounding circles that inadvertently keep Tony in the present.

Peter likes being in constant contact, Tony found. Now that he has the permission. Whether its holding hands, a casual grip on Tonys knee, his thigh, his back.

It’s… actually nice. Maybe because he does it too.

It’s not always about comfort though, Tony concedes, as Peter’s hand dips a little lower, brushing over the swell of his ass.

They share a knowing look.

Tony knows now, what that odd twinkle in Peter’s eyes mean. That little pervert. He knows it in the way Peter bites his bottom lip, as if canary feathers are about to flutter out of his guilty mouth. He wants to lean over and kiss the look right off them.

Greg keeps a close eye on the playground, loafers tapping anxiously on the tiles when a kid pulls a daring move and nearly misses their landing.

He’s not the worst, Tony concedes, wearily assessing the other man. He cares for Morgan which is a plus. But he’s greying gracefully and is genuinely so nice and humble that Tony can’t help but test him every now and then. How earnest can he truly be with Tony stealing a fry here and there and knocking his knees ‘accidentally’.

The conversation turns to Morgans transition to middle school. Pepper thinks she’ll outgrow her peers in months and will pursue a more scientific-focused academic curriculum.

It’s one of those rare, transient moments of life that Tony’s here to witness. He’s getting used to feeling like everything is going to be okay, like maybe he wasn’t brought back just to be a part of another fight. But there’s a lingering anxiety, he just doesn’t know how to deal with without a solder or a suit to tinker on.

He’s working on it though.

“Should we manhandle her highness back in for the cake?” Tony asks, hand snaking down to squeeze Peter’s firm thigh.

Peter, not missing a beat, sends him a smirk that says I’ll manhandle you.

It’s only right that Tony tightens his grip on Peter’s thigh, smiling proudly to himself when Peters breath hitches.

A kid knocks into the back of Tony’s chair, screaming as they run towards the playground. Tony winces, the moment broken.

“Need I remind you two that we’re in a family establishment,” Pepper stresses.

“Yes,” Tony rolls his eyes, gesturing to the playground of rambunctious, screaming children. “How could I forget.”

“Tony.”

“You heard her, Pete, keep it safe for work. You’re making people uncomfortable,” Tony says, clamping down tighter on Peter's leg. Speaking to the couple, he gestures to Peter with his thumb. “Real horndog this one. Insatiable.”

“Me?” Peter says accusingly, jaw dropping.

Pepper raises an eyebrow cooly. “Please, Tony. Don’t think Morgan hasn’t told me about the time she walked in on you two. One time you told her you were checking each Peters temperature. With your long thermometer -- honestly, Tony. Try not to traumatise our child.”

Peter visibly colours at the mention.

“Wait,” Tony says. “That little -- I paid her twenty bucks not to tell you that.”

“So did I,” Peter frowns. “And I gave her the rest of my Reeses to seal the deal. Ah, crap.”

“You got played,” Greg snickers. Tony hates him again.

He nods at Pepper.

“She gets that from you.”

Pepper smiles, unbothered, looking every ounce the image of class as she raises her plastic cup of milkshake to them.

Tony sighs, not even mad.

Some things never change.

-- Thank you to our wonderful artists and writer who participated in the first Starker Games! <3 <3 <3 this is fabulous and we hope you enjoyed yourselves!

#Starker #starker games #starker fanart #PeterxTony #TonyxPeter #New Years

136 notes · View notes

catubarca · 5 years ago

Text

Harry Potter Next Generation Headcanons

im bored. im full of emotions, and am rly missing the HP world... i just want to write down my headcannons for the next gen kiddos tbh.

please remember these are just my opinions? its okay if yours are different. im just bored and want to share my thoughts,,

Teddy Lupin

his name is Theodore Remus “Teddy” Lupin. it’s just what it is

I don’t care what JKR says, to me his name will always be Theodore

i can’t do this “Edward” stuff im so sorry,,,

h u f f l e p u f f

proper school uniform? never heard of it

messy hair, messy clothes

punk rock child

we’re talking like,,,at least two (2) lip piercings ok

absolutely terrible in herbology. do not leave this child alone in a greenhouse, bad things happen

fuckin hoards chocolate

its a problem

dating Victorie Weasley

random bursts of dancing

keeps a lock of hair pink for his mother

lives with the Potters, enjoys pretending to be Ginny to ground his siblings

“Lily, why aren’t you coming out of your room? Dinner’s ready?” “You said I’m grounded! You tell me!” “What? Oh, for the- THEODORE REMUS LUPIN-“

s m i r k s

effortlessly cool,,, but so so dorky,,, in a cool way

Victorie Weasley

ravenclaw!

looks a lot like her mother, Fleur, but inherited those Weasley freckles

a little confused a lot of the time

absolute sweet tooth (teddy abuses this fact a lot)

Mom Friend™

will help you with your homework

always got a book on her

super beautiful and like,,,, the absolute nicest person,,, but

cannot dance

like at all

adores Charms class

a softie you don’t want to cross

“I’m the oldest”

Dominique Weasley

inherited the Classic Weasley Red Hair™

idolises her Uncle Charlie

“I wanna save animals and work with cool dragons, just like Uncle Charlie does!”

Bill almost has a heart attack

always bringing stray animals home

(“is that a lizard in your pocket, Dominique?” “Yes! His name is Blob.” “You know how your father’s afraid of reptiles, sweetheart, you can’t bring it inside.”)

Gryffindor child

favourite class is definitely Care of Magical Creatures, she and Hagrid like to talk about proper care methods for rare creatures

perpetual dirt stains

BIG middle child vibes

doesn’t really label her sexuality… just kinda does what she wants rly

all the pets in Hogwarts love her

rumours are she’s got an innate, natural magical ability to make them all love her

(she feeds them under the table)

it’s a mystery

big advocate for animal rights

f e m i n i s t

willing to throw hands at all times

usually all smiles though

one of those people who use their whole bodies to laugh

kind of an accidental heartthrob

romcoms

Louis Weasley

looks the most like his mother

ravenclaw

absolutely filled with curiosity. always reading or talking or learning

random facts

(how do you even find that sort of information?

you don’t want to know)

coffee boy

sort of musically talented?

he and James Sirius preach the importance of skincare to all who will listen

secretly full of sass and dry wit

vry graceful and fluid

e y e r o l l

awkward smiles? can never smile properly in photos

on the ravenclaw quidditch team

Ravenclaw Prefect

(“You might be older, but I’m taller.” “Fuck off!”)

only watches High Quality™ tv shows/media

kind of a disaster, despite the gracefulness

Molly Weasley

Classic red hair

comes across as a bit uptight, like her father

I don’t care what you think. (She really cares what you think.)

E y e b r o w s

death glares

drinks like 5 cups of coffee in the morning

studies,,, like a lot

definitely a Gryffindor though

mom jeans

always ready to debate a topic. will destroy opponents.

has been trying to start a successful Debate Club for like 4 years now

naturally falls into the position of a group leader

would be a teacher’s pet, if she wasn’t ready At All Times™ to debate the relevancy of the course syllabus or outdated teaching methods

got into a fight with Severus Snape’s portrait in Headmistress McGonagall’s office.

(Dumbledore’s portrait was laughing, until she turned and ragged on him for a bit. Minerva thought it was absolutely hilarious, so she just let Molly go at it for a while).

full of rage towards everything, but wears a very careful mask of aloofness

to calm down, she likes painting her nails

she’s very good at it

she’s also very good at painting and art in general, weirdly enough

Lucy Weasley

G R Y F F I N D O R

adores shitty puns and has a terrible sense of humour

brown hair, not red

loves to prank people, which makes her Uncle George very proud

Percy complains about her behaviour, but makes sure he knows he’s proud too

(charming all the cauldrons in the potions classroom to scream whenever they’re stirred takes a more complex understanding of spell work than one would expect).

a pit of a punk streak

rly loves hip hop

high key drama queen

does she ever stop yelling? we’re yet to find out

average grades in terms of theory, but she’s the best in terms of applying information

especially for her pranks

has allies throughout the castle, from the portraits to the students

the bigger the prank, the better

but is a firm believer in “confuse, don’t abuse”

all her pranks are mostly harmless

is a surprising lover of older literature, like Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, an influence of her sister

a bit rebellious

Fred Weasley II

name isn’t officially “the second”, but it sounds cooler

James Potter, Lucy Weasley, Molly Weasley and Fred Weasley are like the Marauders 2.0

says “squad” and “lit” unironically

niche humour

hipster vibes

avid music lover

smiley sunshine child

takes after his mother the most in looks, just like his sister

a chill type of gryffindor

plays quidditch, and is an excellent chaser, just like his mother

the absolute undisputed King™ of puppy-dog eyes

just,,,, beautiful

the True teacher’s pet

hands in his work on time,, asks lots of questions,,, likes helping students understand their work,, what a boy

can hella nyoom

runs so fast

look at him go

as you might expect, loves a good prank. always down for a laugh

Roxanne Weasley

Gryffindor and pROUD

absolute Queen tbh

was definitely Head Prefect or Gryffindor Prefect at some point

loved by the school

absolute legend

G I R L P O W E R

infectious laughter

has a soft spot for Louis Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy

these poor disaster children,,,, they need a Mother

M O M

big mom vibes

mothers the hell out of all the first years

a feminist through and through

can be found nodding aggressively to Molly Weasley’s semi-deranged, furious ranting

YAAAASS

loves slang. uses so much slang. always up to date with trends and memes

has all the gossip

becomes a mess around pretty girls

absolute blushing, stuttering disaster around cute girls oh my god

her eye make-up game is killer

sparkly

Distinguished Lesbian

Rosie Weasley

did someone say Weasley™?

red hair and freckles and curls oh my

on the autism spectrum, has trouble socialising sometimes

hella passionate about stuff

hangs out with Scorpius and Albus, the Golden Trio 2.0

f em ini st

her jokes are the best. high quality sense of humour.

Ravenclaw

likes to read. it’s quiet in the school library, which is nice.

abysmal at herbology

surprisingly good at Care of Magical Creatures though? Animals are just,,, so much easier to deal with

overall, really good grades though

bit of a silent type, but she’s actually a riot to hang out with

actually pretty good at quidditch? She’s not on the team, and she’s not super interested in playing, but?? She’s not bad??

She can land a solid hit with a beater’s bat

(eyes you judgementally over the top of a book)

dry wit humour

will throw hands over chess

Hugo Weasley

hufflepuff

unbeatable at chess, like his dad

a lost puppy

someone please help this child

softie

kind of low-key emotional

so supportive!! and loyal!! high-key best friend material

foodie. loves food. please feed him.

takes a bit more after his dad appearance wise

loves to cook. spends lots of time with grandma Molly and his dad in the kitchen

Professor Longbottom is his favourite professor, because he’s more chilled and laidback.

other professors and classes fill him with Distress™

loves astronomy too

maths whizz, so good at arithmancy

(“uh, actually-“)

a little bossy, like his mother

is trying so hard

maybe a little too hard

a bit insecure and nervous, but so soft

please treat this child carefully and with love

James Sirius Potter

Gryffindor

L O U D

a fucking disaster child

what’d you expect, putting “James” and “Sirius” together?

DRAMATIC GASPING

flails his hands around when he talks

s t r u t s

bisexual mess, had a crush on both the Longbottom children at some point

is better than you at everything

including being a different gender

fuck you that’s why

so pretty

he’s so pretty

is thIS CHILD EVER NOT LAUGHING AT SOMETHING OH My god

laughs at everything

all the time

always

high-key emotional

badly timed finger guns

looks like a model in photos? wtf?

gets invited to Girls Nights™

wears nail polish and makeup

loves to yell at people about gender roles and defying stereotypes

TEA SIS

not on the quidditch team surprisingly enough, even though he’s pretty good

prefers to be in the stands, doing A+ commentary on the games

if he can get Fred to stop mid-air due to unbearable, suffocating laughter at least once a game it’s a win in his books

has it OUT for the hufflepuff quidditch team and no one knows why??

definitely makes puns on his name

it drives everyone insane

harry always replies he’s just making his namesake proud

that also drives everyone insane

smug lil shit

Albus Severus Potter

“It’s just Al.”

S L Y T H E R I N

will always find a way to get what he wants, eventually

“dad, why did you name me this way?”

unimpressed

sigh

hella smart. is topping at least five classes

Aunt Hermione is his favourite. She’s the fucking Mistress of Magic! All that power, the ability to make change and improve the Magical World as a whole-

sass master

the reason headmistress mcgonagall keeps a bottle of scotch under her desk at all times

the only potter child to inherit The Eyes™

absolute insomniac

kind of emo, but turns into a fucking softie around Scorpius Malfoy it’s hilarious

adverse to violence. prefers a verbal beatdown method

really tall? despite having shorties for parents??? no one saw it coming

(especially not Teddy. He’s always scared of losing his last few inches of height)

Functional Gay

he’s on the slytherin quidditch team, as a seeker

Lily Luna Potter

Gryffindor

FEMINIST

do not mess with lily luna potter

she may seem cute and sweet, but she will destroy you

inherited her father’s black hair

disaster lesbian

transfiguration is her favourite subject, by far

has no idea what she wants to do with the rest of her life.

Existential Crisis Father-Daughter Bonding Time™

do you ever sleep?

takes after Ginny the most in personality

also, kind of the most like James Fleamont Potter in personality, too?

Loves to help her brother out with pranks, laughs at him when he gets caught and she gets away with it

The only one of the Potter Children who hasn’t got into a fight with Severus Snape’s portrait

because she just ignores him instead

loves talking to the portraits around the castle

Super good at Quidditch, is on the team as a Chaser

Quidditch Captain at some point

adores Hagrid, but who out of the Potter children doesn’t?

Idolises Minerva McGonagall

just as oblivious as her father

Scorpius Malfoy

Actually in Ravenclaw, not Slytherin, much to many people’s surprise

abSOLUTE DADDY’S BOY

super close with his dad

Draco is just so supportive of like everything he does (unlike his father)

classic blonde malfoy looks

actually really funny?

a cuddler. loves hugs. always leeching warmth off of someone

he and Rosie sometimes finger-tip-touch which is their version of a hug, because he know’s she’s not super comfortable with touch

was basically adopted by the Weasley’s and Potter’s

James Sirius will murder for this child

booknerd, always rambling to Al and Rosie about new books coming out he’s interested in reading.

has had a crush on Albus Potter since like 1st year

always worried about making his dad proud, and keeping up the Malfoy name

sweet tooth

he’s just,, soft. just a warm, happy child. he wants love, and affection. someone tell him he’s doing okay, please.

needs,,, validation,,,

he’ll tell you out loud that he has no favourite aunts or uncles, but he secretly really likes spending time with his Uncle Ron

they had a talk, once, in like the middle of the night at a sleepover with Rosie and Al, about feeling insecure in comparison to others, and learning to be proud of yourself for your achievements

there were a few tears, but it was nice

Ron was actually the third person he told, besides his dad and Rosie, about having a crush on Al

openly a disaster romantic. trash taste in romance novels.

always welcome in the Potter-Weasley households

165 notes · View notes

headoverhiddles · 5 years ago

Text

Bat-Shaped Glasses - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: You and another guest need a little salvation from the party you're at.

Notes: Well, this was supposed to be fluffy, but as you all know, one thing leads to another, and... smut. Also, this takes place during Eat Me Drink Me era!

Tag List: @livelifewondering

It's early October. This month is "your month" or as you've been reminded by everyone in your circle for the past 7 days. You love Halloween-- something that inspired you to become a horror actress in the first place-- but hearing "spooktober" every other sentence at this party was tiring, to say the least.

Halloween parties are usually fun, but this one is an industry party. You and the rest of the cast of Hell's Most Wanted, a hot new horror franchise, had been invited.

Oh, well. At least you could stand here, look fabulous in the bat shaped glasses and silver bat scarf you had thrown on, enjoy the spiked vampire punch here in Hollywood tonight, and hope someone you'd like to meet walks by. Speaking of Hollywood and vampires...

"Depp!" you call. Your friend whirls around, tan brown hair wild, and spots you through narrowed eyes. He's got a headband with light up devil horns on, and a bit of red glittery eyeshadow on.

"Ah! (y/n)." He frowns for a moment. "You look like you could use another drink, love." You glance down at your glass, realizing it's currently empty.

"Looks like you're right." You two walk over to the refreshments table, and you thank him as he refills your punch, getting a few bat shaped ice cubes in there for you.

"So. Who did your makeup?" you ask, raising a brow.

"A very dear friend of mine... whom I seem to keep losing. Ah, there he is. When in doubt, look for the brooding shadow in the corner."

Johnny grabs your hand, and leads you over to a man with black hair, black eyeshadow, and press on lower lashes. His lips are ruby red, skin pale, and he's got a long, sweeping black cloak on with ornate black patterning. Cherry on top, his height is intimidating too.

"Nice vampire costume," you smile. The guy looks over at you, unimpressed.

"I look like this everyday. But thanks."

Johnny comes in behind his gothic friend, giving him a shoulder rub. "Manson, play nice. That's (y/n) (y/l/n)."

"Never heard of her."

"She's a lovely girl."

"Mm."

"She is!"

"Mm."

"Well," you say awkwardly, pursing your lips, "Nice meeting you, good seeing you Johnny, I'm gonna--"

"Wait," an eye roll from him, "I apologize." The man steps forward, extending a pale hand. "I come off as an asshole until I... y'know, decide not to."

You cautiously decide to shake his hand. His skin is warmer than you expected. "What made you change your mind?"

He smiles wryly. "I don't know. Something about you."

You nod slowly. "(y/n) (y/l/n)."

He shakes your hand. "Marilyn Manson."

Johnny digs out a hand-rolled cigarette, then produces a bag of them. "Anyone for a smoke?"

"Blacken your lungs on your own, Depp," Marilyn mutters, giving a sarcastic wave, "Unless the lady would like to join you, in which case... I'll grin and bear it."

You giggle. "I'm fine."

"Right then. I'm off." Johnny kisses Marilyn on the cheek, then you, then pops off through the crowd, disappearing to the terrace that overlooks West Hollywood.

"Man, these parties are bullshit," Marilyn comments. "You don't know whether to get fucked up or fall asleep." You burst into laughter. He really cuts to the chase, but he's not wrong.

"That about sums it up," you nod.

"Then again, you could do both. But in what order?"

"We could just go find a bush and have a nap," you shrug, "I don't think anyone would miss us." He finally cracks a small smile, walking with you through the crowd.

"That's starting to sound like more and more of a good idea."

You make it to the banquet table, and you pick up two strawberry (booberry, as they're dubbed) cream puffs. He accepts his, and you eat yours, letting the strawberry jelly gush down your lip.

"Now who's the vampire?" he smirks. You blush, wiping your face, and he motions with his head to the terrace. You both walk out, and he breathes a sigh of relief, sitting down in the garden. Black roses surround you, the venue obviously taking their star studded Halloween party seriously. It's as if you're caught up in a gothic novel... or the Addams Family.

"Here." Marilyn places his cream puff on your knee. You shake your head.

"I got it for you."

"I just took it from you so you wouldn't look stupid carrying two around." You give him a funny look. He elaborates. "I don't eat at parties. I'm sick enough already trying to bring myself to talk to people." He shakes his head. "It honestly feels like I'm back in high school sometimes."

You place the cream puff beside you, blinking. "That's exactly how I feel."

He gives a sad smile. "Funny. They don't tell you this, but you can't ever escape the shit. It's all classroom politics-- blame the scapegoat, who's the prettiest, who fucks the best, get dumped when you’re no longer socially useful, and every man for himself."

"High school never really ends, I guess," you say, and watch the crowd of costumed celebrities mingle and laugh. You feel his eyes on you. "I bet you think I was some kind of cheerleader or something in high school," you say.

"No," he says simply, folding his hands in his lap, "I don't have any judgement about you whatsoever. I think it's short-sighted to say that someone looks like they were the pretty one, or the nerd, or the jock. Anybody can become anybody." He glares around. "Although I can tell you that you could find 80% of the guys at this party beating me up for my lunch money."

You look around as well. "I've found that Hollywood, for me, is like all the artsy kids joined up and created a club."

"That's true," Marilyn muses, "It's like all the weird kids were given agents, fancy cars and drugs, and told to go play. I guess it depends on your crowd, though. I know people from all over the social map, but it takes a lot to be my friend." He cocks his head. "Johnny did a good job of snaking his way in with a few snarky comments." You look around for Johnny, though he's probably sauntered off somewhere private. He likes parties for the free alcohol, and nothing else really.

"What were you like in high school, anyway?" you ask softly, sipping your drink. Marilyn crosses his legs, placing his painted fingernails over his knee.

"I was the kid no one wanted to be seen with. No matter what you were, you wouldn't have either. Doesn't mean I wouldn't have tried to sleep with you, though." He smirks. You shrug.

"Maybe you would've been successful."

"I had a mullet."

"Yikes. Nevermind."

A real laugh comes out of him, and he ducks his head, tucking his black hair behind his ear. You think it's fascinating how shy he is... an international rock star like him. But, just as Marilyn said, proper judgement is impossible in situations such as these.

"What was your prom night like?" you ask.

"My prom night?"

"Mhmm."

"Boring. I went out with the girl, jerked off when she wouldn't put out." He shrugs. "Didn't help that the suit was thick, it kept rubbing against my dick and gave me a hard on. Of course, at that age, the wind could blow and I'd get an erection. She looked at my crotch, saw that I had a boner, hit me with her purse and called me a pervert. I knew the relationship was over when I pointed out that she was the one looking at my crotch in the first place." You giggle, and he smiles, shaking his head. "People get uncomfortable when you point out their hypocrisy." He rolls his palms on his knees, taking a deep breath of fresh air. "Okay. What was your prom night like?"

"I was drunk, I don't remember."

He looks at you incredulously for a second, obviously not expecting that answer. "Alright, enough with this high school reunion shit," he says. "We're both here now, at a party in Hollywood, you're talking to Public Enemy Number 1 and I'm talking to Hell's Most Wanted, so I guess we both did something right."

You stand up. "A-ha! So you do know who I am!"

Honest to god, you see him blush. "Yeah. A lot of people do."

"You were faking!"

"That's what I do," he smiles sarcastically, "I'm as fake as a wedding cake."

You step closer to him. "Somehow, I don't think that's true."

You two walk across the terrace. The sound of the traffic in the distance is almost enough to overpower the beginning of Enter Sandman, which is playing inside. "This is the only song I like by Metallica," you tell him. He looks back into the party.

"It's okay. I've been listening to Moon Over Bourbon Street by Sting for the past month, to get over the break up to end all break ups.”

“Oh yeah.” You recall seeing something about Marilyn Manson and divorce in the tabloids recently. “Dita, right?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, looking down. He obviously doesn’t want to talk about it, and you don’t press. “Anyway, I wish they'd play Bourbon Street here. Those words make me feel eternal, and it’s not like it would be out of place at a Halloween party."

"I swear, you must be a real vampire," you tease.

He gives that shy laugh. "I'm a vampire in every sense of being one, without actually being one. I go out at night, sleep half the day away. I'm pale, I like blood." He purses his lips. "I just don't like the taste of it."

"No? What do you drink, then?"

"Absinthe."

Before he can say anything else, you snake through the crowd over to the bar, ordering two Death In The Afternoons, which is a delicious mixture of champagne and Marilyn's poison of choice. You hand him one, and he accepts, sipping it.

"Mm. You trying to get me drunk?" he asks.

"Maybe."

"This is probably the most sober anyone's seen me for weeks," he confides. "I don't know if you'd like me when I'm drunk. Not many people do."

You clink your glass against his. "Same goes for me, Manson."

He looks at you for a long time, until you start to fidget a little. He finally blinks those long eyelashes, tongue coming out to swipe his painted red lips.

"You're very pretty."

You blush hard. "One sip is all it took to get that out of you?"

"I won't let the absinthe take credit for another mistake I make," he smiles, eyes dark and honest, "I've been thinking that since you first called me a vampire."

"I didn't mean anything by it," you whisper, walking back into a dark corner, grinning. He follows, eyes a black pit you want to get lost in.

"No, I get it. Dark, mysterious."

"Charming."

"Brooding."

"Sexy," you moan, and he downs the rest of his drink, dropping it on someone's table.

"Alright. The absinthe might be in control from here on out, but fuck it." He cups your cheeks, and presses you into that corner, shadows enveloping your two rocking bodies as those blood red lips slip down to touch yours.

"Please," you moan, and he doesn't quite know what you're asking, but he takes a leap of faith, sliding his hands beneath your skirt and bunching it up. His hands move beneath the waistband of your lace panties, and he uses one hand to squeeze your ass, the other using slender fingers to masterfully circle your clit. Well, that was fucking fast.

You breathe heavily into his shoulder, and he draws back a little, eyes searching yours for any little hint as to what's working and what's not. When your eyes roll back and you bite your lip, he continues with the rubbing, rocking his hips forward as well.

Your hands dip into the opening of his cloak, and find his belt buckle, unlatching it slowly, each rock of the hips and grind of his hand against you slow, dirty, deliberate.

"I want you to make me cum on your fingers," you whisper.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" he whispers back, lips moving down to nibble at the line of your jaw.

"Yes..."

"Ask again."

"Marilyn, please."

You kiss him again, the two of you making out as your fingers wrap around his semi-hard cock. He hisses slightly at the sensation of your cold hand around him, but a few seconds tick by, and your skin warms up to his, dragging beautifully up and down his hardness.

"You keep doin' that, I'm gonna get your hand real messy," he whispers.

"Get it all over me," you growl, the dirtiness of your words urging you on, "I wanna feel it when we cum together."

"Fuck," he groans, and dips his fingers into you. You marvel at his talent-- in two strokes of his fingers, he's found your g-spot, and you're arching into him, breasts pressed against his chest.

More than a few thoughts are whirling through your head, but you vaguely tell yourself this is just a rebound for him. He was imagining his ex-wife, that’s all, and--

“(y/n)?” he gasps out, and you’re surprised he’s moaning your name.

“Yeah?”

“C-can I... tell you a secret?”

“Mhmm...”

“After the first episode of Hell’s Most Wanted... I had to jack off.”

You almost laugh, and it comes out as a groan. You imagine Marilyn jacking off, thinking of you... him even having a tiny crush on you.

"God, that’s so hot," you pant, jerking him faster. He tries to whisper your name again, but it gets garbled as he gasps and cums in your hand. This only forces his fingers deeper, and you grab onto his hair and bite his bottom lip as you cum hard too, riding his fingers in the dark corner of the room.

"Ow," he smiles, pulling away and dabbing at the blood on his lip from the bite. You grin, licking it up with a swipe of your tongue.

"See? I could be your vampire."

"Sweetheart. If I was your vampire, we'd have each other til the sun."

"You're poetic."

"And you're still pretty."

"Glad I haven't lost my appeal after all that," you snort, as the two of you glance around sheepishly. You find napkins to clean up with, and pass him one.

"Nah," he says, taking your other hand, "I think I've warmed up to the idea of you. At least while the moon is still up."

You take a glance outside, and see a crescent moon trying its best to shine on all the ghosts and ghouls of Hollywood gathered at this party. It's a valiant effort on its part, and it brings the spooky spirit of the evening back.

"Looks like we have a few more hours,”

“Just don’t break my heart,” he warns.

Against all better judgement, you question him. “What happens if I do?” He lifts a finger up to flick the plastic wings of the novelty Halloween sunglasses.

“Then I’ll break your bat-shaped glasses.”

You take his arm, and you two outsiders re-enter the festive crowd, anonymous but no longer alone.

#marilyn manson #marilyn manson x reader #reader x marilyn manson #brian warner #brian warner x reader #reader x brian warner #eat me drink me era #eat me drink me #vampires #halloween #halloween party #marilyn manson fandom #marilyn manson fanfic #marilyn manson fanfiction #bandom #bandom fic #marilyn manson band #johnny depp #marilyn manson imagine

170 notes · View notes

naferty · 6 years ago

Text

Part 2!

~~~

Reunion

(Stroganoff au, a/b/o dynamics, stony, Gregory comes for a visit)

They celebrate the get together in his yard. It’s a beautiful day. The sun is out and clouds are slowly moving along. Tables are full of food and snacks. Chips and dip are on one corner and fruit and salad bowls are on the other. Soda, juice, cucumber water, wine and more are available and hot dogs and ingredients to make tacos make up the main course.

There’s plenty for everyone invited. Even the neighbors are invited to stop by and grab a plate for themselves and their families. Many happily take up the offer, chat with Tony and Steve and go on their merry way.

There is laughter in the air. Everybody is greeting everyone. Many are catching up and others are telling stories. Old friends and new and more family. Jarvis is out and about offering drinks, much to Tony and Steve’s dismay. Clint and Rhodey are arguing over the grill and who cooks the dogs better. The Nanas are sitting together in the center, joined by Winnifred. Their laughter in harmony and their stories embarrassing their sons. Tony, Steve, Rhodey and Bucky are left to moan in agony as their mothers reveal everything to everyone willing to listen.

Because of luck, T’Challa is there to join the festivities and brought with him his sister, who’s already causing trouble with Peter, Harley and Riri. Tony had gotten a bouncing castle for the ‘kids’ as a joke, but the joke’s on him as all four are using it to their full advantage. They don’t even care if they’re too old for it. It’s their temporary and personal hideout from boring adults.

Games are being played, drinks are drunk, hot dogs are being eaten and everyone is happy. Worries are far behind them and no one expects the shadow that follows after a sleek, blue and all aesthetic car or what it brings ahead for their festivities.

The first to notice the strange but recognizable face is Jan. It stops her in her tracks as she’s holding a plate of hot dogs and chips. She blinks and blinks again then shakes her head and blinks one more time before finally accepting that, yes, Gregory Stark is really standing on the sidewalk of her friend’s house.

Her sudden stop is not missed by others. Soon, everyone near her vicinity follows her gaze and come upon the same conclusion. That is indeed the CEO of SI and that is him walking towards their gathering with an insulting swagger and throwing shade with just his sunglasses on. His outfit consists of a sharp suit and expensive Italian shoes and is very out of place with all of their casual attires and sundresses.

Jan is quick to move through the crowd in search of Tony, but in the time it took her to find him many of the others further in the crowd have noticed the arrival of the misplaced CEO alpha. The laughter goes down. Whispers and hushed tones fill the air now. The music covers for the suddenly tense atmosphere, but the change is still easily noticed. It catches Peter’s attention. Not wanting to be out of the loop of in his own home he rushes out of the bouncing castle and looks for the source of the sudden silence.

His eyes go wide when he sees the sharp figure. He almost doesn’t recognize him. Photos don’t prepare you for the real thing and Peter didn’t actually expect the guy to show up, but he’s here now and Peter admits he’s a little excited. His Nana Maria might get what she wants after all!

The man stops short of reaching the center of the crowd. He looks around, taking in his surroundings before grinning and taking off his sunglasses. “I’m here at last. I’d apologize for being late, but what can you do? Where are the hosts? I’d like to personally thank them for the invite.”

Peter is left a bit unbalanced. Now that’s a strong personality. “Uh, Mr Stark? I mean - Sir?”

The eyes of the alpha land on him. Cold and calculating blue eyes. Nothing like his Mam’s warm and brown ones or even close to his Pop’s soft and caring blue ones.

“You Peter?”

Peter straightens his back. “Yeah, yeah that’s me. Peter’s my name and you’re Gregory Stark, right? You made it!”

“Yeah, I made it,” SI Stark’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Nice party, kid. What are we celebrating?”

Before Peter could answer Harley walks up beside him, posturing as much as a tiny ten-year-old alpha could. “Who’s the suit?”

SI Stark studies him for a second before nodding in… approval? “His uncle.”

“We have enough of those. Thanks,” Harley says and Peter is ready to shoo him away before he scares their Nana’s only chance at the reunion she wants, but SI Stark only laughs.

He looks between them. “Another one? Little Anthony went and had two of you, huh? Surprised he managed you,” he points to Harley. “Didn’t think he had it in him.”

That… sounded insulting. Is that meant to be an insult?

“Gregory, what a surprise.” Through the crowd came their Mam and right by his side stood their Pop. The two… don’t exactly look happy at their new guest.

Gregory is unfazed. “Anthony! A very long time no see. How have you been? How’s business?”

“Oh, you know. Living my life, moving along happily and debating on whether getting a signature stamp for signing all those contracts flooding my desk is worth an investment or not. You know how it is. So what are you doing here?”

SI Stark chuckles as he raises his arms in show. “I got invited. Took a long time for my invitation to arrive, but I finally got it. Thanks for that, Pete.”

All eyes turn to him, making Peter want to melt into the ground. Somehow, sending that letter felt like the wrong thing to have done. Looking around he didn’t see a single face happy at his choice. Not even his Nana Maria, who he had done this all for, looks happy to see her son there.

“You’re welcome,” he tries for cheerful. He fails.

Pop moves forward. “Steve Rogers,” he… introduces himself? - and shit, had they never met before? Did Peter just force his Pop and his brother-in-law to meet for the very first time? Did Peter just cause this gathering to become… awkward??

“Gregory Stark, but you all know that.”

Oh, my god, he did! He did force an awkward force first meeting!

He’s so grounded.

His Pop took a deep breath. The kind of breath that meant he’s holding back something that’s not going to be pretty if unleashed. Peter and Harley knew of that intake well. They grew up fearing it the one or two times it happened. Not aimed at them, thankfully. Aimed at some unfortunate soul unlucky enough to have the wrath of Commander Rogers on them. Gregory is not starting out great at all.

“Sure,” Pop is very unimpressed. “Food and drinks are in the back. We’re about to start some games. You’re welcome to join.”

“Don't think I will. I'll mingle. See what's so special. Perhaps catch up with Mother,” he says in an obnoxious tone before heading off into the crowd. Not bothered by the way the others seem to put distance when he gets close.

That's not how Peter expected this to go at all. They are supposed to be ecstatic and greet each other like long lost family members. Nana Maria is supposed to come rushing to her son and happily introduce him to everyone. Everyone here is supposed to include him with open arms, or at least less hostility, than what most are showing him now.

Instead, no one is smiling. No one even tries to pretend to smile. Not Jarvis, not even Nana Maria, and Peter doesn’t know why.

He’s left to stand awkwardly as his guest meanders away and attempts small talk with his family members who are very obviously shunning him.

#text post #long text post #stroganoff au #a/b/o dynamics #stony #stevetony #siblings peter and harley #riri is carolrhodey's daughter btw #omega tony stark #alpha steve rogers #alpha gregory stark #gregory is about to start some drama #and peter will feel so guilty #naferty writes

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quietlyapocalyptic · 6 years ago

Note

This probably a bad idea to pitch since you’re still writing the ‘Going Down Swinging’ series buuuut I’m a curious pixie😅 Anyway, I’m surprised you haven’t done a ‘Field Trip to SI’ fic that shows Peter being a little shit with his (totally not but they’re not fooling anyone) adoptive dads??

Ha, you’re right, I am still working on that series (and a heap of other stuff, it’s been busy but I’m having fun). Still, I thought I could write a short thing for you. A short thing that ended up a little longer than expected, as per usual. Oh well. Enjoy!

“You have got to be kidding me,” Peter said flatly, his arms crossing over his chest as he glared at the smirking teenager who had appeared out of nowhere– who had definitely not been on the bus with their class on the way to Avengers Tower.

“Peter,” Ned said, reaching out to frantically slap at Peter’s arm, not quite hitting his mark as his wide eyes were locked on the newcomer. “Is that—”

“Nope, definitely not,” Peter said, nudging Ned around to keep moving with the rest of the group. “Ignore him, please.”

“My, that is rude.” A black eyebrow arched perfectly over bright green eyes, and Peter gnashed his teeth.

“Really?” he asked. “You promised. No mischief.”

“I am sure I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t even sound like a teenager.”

“Of course I do.”

“Loki—"

“My name is Lewis,” Loki said, cocking his head. “Do you not recognise me? I’ve been in your class since the start of the year.”

“You have not—”

“Students, in a line!” Ms Warren called, struggling to be heard over the excited chatter as everyone tried to see all that they could of the lobby of Avengers Tower. They were there for a physics field trip, to learn about the arc reactor technology that ran the tower– though most of the class were more excited about the possibility of something else.

“I wonder if we’ll see an Avenger,” Flash said, craning his neck and not noticing that he was getting in all the other students’ way.

“I think there’s a chance,” Loki replied as he filed into line, and Flash turned to him with an unimpressed look.

“Do I know you?”

“You should.” Loki’s tone held far more weight than was necessary, and Peter was this close to burying his head in his hands. But, then– “I know you, after all. We worked on a project together last month.”

Loki put just the right amount of sad confusion into his words that Flash rolled his eyes, clearly dismissing Loki as someone who, well, only deserved to be dismissed. It was a response that Peter knew well.

“Right,” Flash said, turning back to his friends with a snort.

“Is he always like that?” Loki asked, glancing to Peter.

Peter merely shrugged, and Loki frowned.

“You don’t have to worry,” Peter said quickly, not liking the look in Loki’s eye. “I’m used to it.”

Loki’s frown deepened. “So am I.”

He didn’t say anything else, and as Ms Warren ushered them all into an education room to be greeted by the SI employee who would be their tour guide, Loki followed. Peter was glad he didn’t recognise the guide, and that they didn’t recognise him– this was already awkward enough as it was. He should have just stayed home.

Loki tagged along for the following tour, seeming to find great amusement in the confusion of the students and the harried teacher alike. At first, Peter felt like curling in on himself, knowing that Loki was only there because he was– but as time passed, Peter found himself enjoying having Loki on the trip. After all, the visit to the Tower really would have been boring otherwise, what with Peter already knowing everything SI would release to the public about the arc reactor, and even a little more on top of that, thanks to the times he had spent in Tony’s workshop. Having Loki there made it bearable– especially when Flash’s hair turned a bright, bright green, and every time anyone tried to tell him about it they only managed to compliment him on how good it looked, as if they had been tongue-tied.

Peter thought about telling Loki to stop harassing Flash, because it wasn’t really fair. But he knew that Loki wouldn’t listen, would probably only move on to another trick, so he just settled in for the ride. But then, when they were down in the sub levels and listening to the explanations on the arc reactor, yet another familiar face arrived.

“Oh, there you are.”

Their guide stopped mid-sentence and stared, and even Ms Warren seemed lost for words, as if they couldn’t quite believe that Tony Stark was making his way toward them, his eyes narrowing in on the group of students.

“I apologise,” Tony said, not pausing his determined strides. “I’ve just misplaced something, won’t be a sec.”

He didn’t need to push his way through the crowd of students, because they parted before him like the Red Sea. A few seemed to be visibly vibrating, and Flash’s hand was darting toward his pocket every couple of seconds, as if he wanted to get out his phone but worried that it wouldn’t be well received, chewing on his lip as if trying to make a decision. Others had their phones out regardless, not shy at all about turning around and trying to get a selfie with Tony Stark in the background.

Tony didn’t seem to care– Peter supposed that he was probably used to it. He merely continued forward in his focused charge, heading straight toward where Peter was standing. Peter held his breath, because surely Tony wouldn’t.

But, thankfully, it wasn’t Peter that he was after.

“Hey!” Loki exclaimed as Tony’s hand curled around his shoulder. “You can’t just come in here and grab me. I’m a student!”

Ms Warren looked like she was about to agree, but Tony cut his way in with a wave of his hand.

“Oh, shush,” Tony said. “Thor’s making pancakes right now, and if I have to suffer that, you’re coming with me.”

“I’m on a field trip,” Loki hissed.

“And I’m sure you’re enjoying yourself.” Tony glanced to Flash with an amused grin before turning back. “Now, come on. Pancakes, kitchen, five minutes.”

Loki let out a heavy sigh, and as Peter watched his body shimmered with green light before returning to the shape he wore most often– tall and intimidating and adult.

The class broke out into excited mutters, and Loki rolled his eyes. “Honestly,” he quipped. “If you all spent more time listening to your teacher instead of gossiping about the Avengers, you would have more chance of becoming impressive enough to catch their attention.”

Ms Warren made a bit of a strangled sound, and while Peter would commend Loki for trying – though he doubted it was meant that way regardless – he knew there was no way something so simple would make them focus more in class. Ms Warren probably knew that as well, to be honest.

Tony merely laughed, wrapping an arm around Loki’s waist and leaning in to press a kiss to Loki’s cheek. Loki seemed to lean into the touch fondly, his expression softening as all irritation melted away.

“Very well,” he said. “But if the same thing happens as last time, I refuse to clean the ceiling again. Thor can do that himself.”

Tony grinned at that, but gave his agreement. And just before they left, Tony’s gaze slid over to Flash once more.

“Hey, kid,” he called, and Flash’s eyes widened. “Nice hair.”

Flash looked like he was about to faint, and Tony glanced to Peter with a wink. Then, in another flash of bright green magic, both Tony and Loki were gone.

It took a few minutes for Ms Warren to get the class back under control– they were all showing each other their phones, trying to see who got the best angle, hurrying to post their pics to Twitter and Instagram and Snapchat and everywhere else that they could. Flash had yet to totally recover, and Peter couldn’t wait to see his face when he finally caught sight of his reflection.

“Peter,” Ned said, turning to him breathlessly. “That was Tony Stark. And Loki. Avengers. Will you introduce me? Do you reckon you could get me an autograph? How does a Norse God learn how to make pancakes?”

“Google,” Peter replied, feeling a little worn out but not quite able to curb his smile at his friend’s enthusiasm. They quietened then as Ms Warren finally managed to direct them back to the guide and the reactor. But as everyone pretended to listen, Ned leaned back in again.

“Do you think we could visit for pancakes one time?” Ned whispered. “They like you, right?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Peter told him.

Ned deflated a little, and Peter patted his arm in consolation.

“Trust me, Ned,” he sighed. “You really don’t want to try Thor’s pancakes.”

#fanfic #peter parker #loki #tony stark #frostiron #ned leeds #nn's fics #thanks for the ask #not posted on ao3

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charmedtheselfproclaimedking · 5 years ago

Text

Charmed Again: Season 3 (Charmed Fanfic)

Episode 5 - The Charmed Bride: A Valentine’s Day Special

Warnings: I don’t own the rights to any of the characters from the hit TV show “Charmed” or the storylines related to the show those rights belong to original creator Constance M Burge.

15+ Moderate/Graphic Displays of Violence, Sexual Innuendos, Witchcraft and Potentially Triggering Scenes.

Many Years Ago

Melinda Halliwell was walking down the first floor hallway of the Halliwell Manor looking for her eight year old daughter Pan when she noticed her bedroom door open and upon investigation found her little girl stood there trying on her wedding dress from her wedding to her ex-husband Luke Adams.

“Pandora Paige Halliwell what are you doing?” Melinda laughed at her daughter as she walked into her bedroom.

“I didn’t mean to pinch your dress mum it just kind of called out to me and I couldn’t help myself.” An eight-year-old Pan cutely lied while she climbed out of a wedding dress far too big for a child and sat down on the edge of her mother’s bed. “I just wanted to see if I looked as beautiful as you mummy.”

“Well as you can see, you’re too small and too young to be trying or even thinking about wedding days just yet.” Melinda told her as she sat down next to her daughter and cuddled into the eight-year-old. “But when your day comes, I can promise you that you will be the most beautiful bride in the whole wide world.”

“I hope my husband makes me as happy as daddy used to make you.” Little Pan hoped.

“You’re a smart kid Pan I’m sure whoever you wind up with whether it be a bride or groom you will be the happiest bride out there because you’ll choose wisely even more wisely than me.” Melinda said sincerely to her daughter.

Many Years Later

A teenage Lacey and Drake walked down the school corridors of their local high school within San Francisco just like they did every school day longing for the days school would be over, they’d grow up and be parent free never knowing then the tragedies that awaited them in the future.

“I’m telling your dad is going to be super cool to find out your dating a girl I mean at least he can ease off with the pregnancy lectures besides he’s super supportive of Jake and me.” Drake told a nervous Lacey who planned to come out to her father after school.

“Yeah well Jake didn’t break the news to dad until he brought you home one night which is super not fair because you’ve always been my dad’s favorite non-child.” Lacey argued with her best-friend. “I doubt he’s going to be too chill unless I take Wonder Woman herself home with me.”

“Please Wonder Woman is way too old for you your dad would just flip about the age difference.” Drake joked.

After a pep talk from her best-friend and a long school day Lacey returned home that day to find her father Eric and her brother Jake sat on the couch in the living room of their family home watching some cheesy sitcom and laughing away to themselves until Lacey switched the television off and sat down between them.

“So, I’m just going to come straight out with it…dad I’m a lesbian.” Lacey admitted to her father and brother at the same time, feeling freed by the words she had just said.

“Darling don’t be so stupid,” Eric laughed as hugged his daughter. “I’ve known you were into girls long before you even knew. Good on you for finally admitting it to yourself must’ve taken a lot kid.”

“Yeah good for you sister even if it wasn’t exactly a secret.” Jake joked with his sister.

“Your mother used to always say sexuality is a spectrum or is like a spectrum I can’t remember it word for word but the point is in this household it don’t matter what your orientation, ethnicity or sex is as long as you’re a good person.” Eric told both his children. “Although if you date crappy people, I’m going to tell you their crappy whether use like it or not.”

“So, sis, have you got yourself a girlfriend yet?” Jake asked Lacey.

“No.” Lacey blushed. “Can we please change the subject now?”

“You should totally get your brother to set you up he’s got good taste in people I mean just look at his boyfriend.” Eric suggested to his daughter instantly making her eyes roll.

“Do you have to be Drake’s number one cheerleader all the time?” Lacey mocked her father. “Next you’ll be telling me it’s a shame he hasn’t got a sister or cousin for me to date.”

“Don’t think I haven’t asked him already but sadly no family members that are of age to date you.” Eric teased his daughter.

The Day Before Valentine’s Day

Drake was walking down the main hallway of magic school when he suddenly saw Cole from a distance holding a bouquet of roses and a heart shaped box of what Drake could only presume was chocolates and considering Cole was closer to Drake’s office than he was he had no choice but to dart for Dermot’s office and run in there in a bid to avoid his friend he shared a kiss with before realizing he just walked into the office of a headmaster he had shared a kiss with.

“Now whose busting into whose office?” Dermot asked Drake while sitting behind his desk as Drake burst into his office, slamming the door closed behind him.

“Yeah I wasn’t really thinking I was too busy in avoidance mode to remember I’m also avoiding you.” Drake replied a little too honestly. “No offense meant of course.”

“Don’t worry only a little offense taken,” Dermot joked as he stood up from his chair. “I did figure you were avoiding me but who else are you avoiding?”

“My former demonic best friend who betrayed me only for me to start becoming his friend again until…well until that got complicated too.” Drake admitted to the headmaster of magic school.

“Your life in general seems complicated.” Dermot told him.

“Fair point.” Drake agreed.

“While you’re here I have a little card, I was going to give you…” Dermot began to say.

“I swear if it’s a valentine’s card I will vanquish you!” Drake snapped at his boss.

“Fair enough,” Dermot laughed at Drake’s reaction. “So, do you want to talk about what happened between us or keep avoiding?”

“Keep avoiding.” Drake joked for a moment before realizing Drake look unimpressed. “Here’s the thing I was still getting over my ex who was a great guy until he lied to me, brainwashed me and then left me to become an elder although in his defense I was kind of dead at the time. Then Cole came along and I clearly transferred my feelings to nearest standby got rejected and realized we were better off as friends until he back-stabbed me and then along comes you who I really hate or at least did hate until that kiss and now I’m all kinds of confused and desperate to keep avoiding.”

“Hold up elder Jason Quinn brainwashed you?” Dermot continued to laugh at Drake’s expense making Drake laugh along with him. “God your love life really is a train wreck.”

“Yeah and I haven’t even told you about my first ex who wound up in jail for murdering my parents.” Drake couldn’t help but laugh as his reckless love life. “Then there was this demonic strip club owner who I wound up getting pregnant which actually turned out to me my most successful relationship considering I got Lilah out of my dalliances with Cindy.”

“So, I’m guessing a lifetime of that doesn’t make you the biggest valentines day fan?” Dermot asked him.

“You could say that yeah.” Drake replied.

Raven walked into her office at Halliwell and Turner only to be left shocked to see a trail of roses leading to her desk with a luxurious box of chocolates and a card within a red envelope placed on her desk as she walked into the room only to hear a knock on the door to find Paul stood there with a bouquet of beautiful and colorful flowers.

“Wow, this is totally unexpected!” Raven said as Paul walked over to her and handed her the flowers before kissing her. “You realize Valentine’s Day is still a day, away right?”

“True but considering my sister’s getting married on Valentine’s Day even the cupids themselves better be on holiday this year because Pan Halliwell and Lacey Morgan are about to make it their day.” Paul joked. “Speaking of which I need a plus one for the wedding if you fancy being my date?”

“Well I was given my own invite but I’m sure I can slum it as your plus one.” Raven replied before giving her boyfriend and business partner another kiss. “The flowers are lovely thank you.”

“I figured we could do something nice for lunch as well I booked us a table at Quake I’d say dinner but I think Drake’s plotting something for tonight and considering we missed his last plans I’m going to make sure not to miss this one.” Paul revealed to Raven.

“How are the soon to be brides?” Raven wondered. “I can’t wait for a lovely wedding and on Valentine’s Day too it’s just the thing to lift the mood around here.”

“Careful now we try not to try and jinx ourselves in this family.” Paul joked.

The soon to be brides Pan and Lacey found themselves sitting on the couch in the living room of the Halliwell Manor cuddled up together under a thick blanket while watching a cheesy romance movie on the television which was quickly interrupted when Drake blink in front of them both interrupting their movie time.

“This is totally not acceptable it’s one day before the wedding and the two of you are sat here watching god knows what.” Drake said to them both before switching off the television. “You both have separate hens’ nights to start preparing emphasis on the plural use there because we’re going traditional and separating you two until the big day.”

“I thought you understood it when we said no to any hen nights let alone two?” Lacey asked him.

“Well that’s on you for being foolish enough to believe I’d just settle with a no I never settle for anything.” Drake told his best-friend. “You have plenty of time to be old and boring after the wedding tonight’s about fun and I’m going to make you both have some even if it involves kidnapping use both.”

“I guess we have no choice then.” Pan said to Lacey while smiling at her soon to be bride.

Before Lacey could respond to Drake’s demands the three of them were interrupted by a knock at the door which instantly made Drake smile knowing who was at the door.

“Well this is your house too Lacey get off your butt and answer the door!” Drake ordered Lacey.

“When the hell did you get so bossy?” Lacey asked as she stood up from the sofa and began walking towards the foyer. “I’m only going because you’re clearly a man on a mission today and I have no interest in going up against that.”

Lacey continued walking through the foyer of the Halliwell home and walked straight towards the door only to be left completely shell shocked when she opened the door to find her brother Jake stood in the doorstep.

“Jake,” Lacey said with excitement. “What are you doing here?”

“I figured to stop being a bitch and risk getting locked up so I can see my little sister get hitched.” Jake revealed before hugging his sister.

“I’m so happy you came around I thought I was never going to see you again.” Lacey squealed as she was overcome with joy. “I’m so happy your back! I’m so happy you’ll be here for my wedding I’ve missed you so damn much.”

Meanwhile back in the living room Pan’s suspicion over Drake’s scheming smiles only managed to grow after overhearing her fiancé screaming with joy from the front door of the family home.

“What exactly did you do?” Pan asked as she stood up from the couch to face her nephew.

“I may have cast the tiniest acceptance spell on Jake to help him get over his beef and get him here for the wedding.” Drake revealed to his aunt.

“You seriously cast a spell on a guy whose life was ruined by magic.” Pan laughed nervously. “That’s going to end well.”

“Okay you and I both know when it comes to a little personal gain here and there, we’re both willing to take the risk besides am I really a Halliwell if I don’t interfere like the rest of you?” Drake joked.

Jake and Lacey walked into the living room hugging each other just before Pan had any chance of arguing with her nephew over his recent meddling but Drake was far from out of the woods yet as he found himself face to face with his first love who he wrongly accused of murdering his parents.

“Hi Drake, it’s good to see you again.” Jake said to him awkwardly.

“Hey, it’s good to see you too.” Drake replied sincerely although equally as awkwardly.

“So, what are these plans then? I must admit you play an unfair but highly good game.” Lacey said to Drake, happy to be reunited with her brother.

“Pan’s hen night is taking place in P3 where I’ve got Paul working on the finishes touched to the night and Lacey’s hen night will take place in Devilish Delights which will re-open for one night thanks to Cindy giving me the all clear to use the strip club.” Drake revealed to the room.

“Wait a strip club…how do you know people that own a strip club?” Jake asked his former boyfriend.

“I used to be a stripper there before becoming a cop then I briefly returned to stripping and now I’m a guidance counselor telling students not to strip for a living some people call it the circle of life.” Drake informed him.

“Well nothing in your life has ever not been complicated.” Jake joked.

“You have no idea!” Drake laughed.

Drake blinked into P3 to find the beautiful valentines themed decorations all hung up around the club and his father Paul sat at the bar counter drinking from a bottle of whisky.

“Well I’ll give you something you’ve got quite the hand for decorations I guess I know where I get it from.” Drake told his father as he walked and sat down next to him before stealing the bottle of whisky from his hands. “However, it’s missing a little something…”

Drake waved his hand along the bar counter blinking plates of food onto the surface much to Paul’s amusement.

“I’m really going to have to discuss personal gain with you at some point Drake.” Paul told his son.

“Personal what now?” Drake joked with his father before taking a drink from the bottle of whiskey and handing it back to Paul. “I managed to convince Raven to take Lilah for the night which really means Raven, and more than likely Cole are babysitting I would’ve asked him myself but…”

“He kissed you before your new boss kissed you and you’re all kinds of confused.” Paul interrupted his son. “What is it with you and your bosses anyway?”

“If Lacey wasn’t already dead, I’d kill the little blabber.” Drake moaned. “Well anyone Lilah’s sorted for tonight which means this baby daddy can’t get as drunk as he wants too.”

“Now that sounds like I showed up just in time for a great night.” Quinn said with enthusiasm as he orbed into the club. “Hi guys!”

“Quinn it’s been far too long.” Paul replied with a smile as he stood up from his chair and hugged his former white lighter. “I’m so glad you can make it tonight.”

“Yeah it’s really good you could make it.” Drake agreed with a forced smile as he had now seen four people, he had shared kisses with in one day.

“I couldn’t miss Pan’s wedding I mean you guys are like family to me and I’ve always rooted for them two to make it down the aisle.” Quinn told both father and son.

“Drake’s decided to split the brides up for separate hen nights, so we’ll only be seeing Pan tonight.” Paul told Quinn before turning to ask Drake. “Are you sure planning two hen nights isn’t too much for you?”

“My mother was a party planning extraordinaire I learned everything I know from her in fact she’d be in her element right now.” Drake admitted. “She just loved valentines’ day too it was the one day in a year where dad was the one who went all out and boy, he did it in style. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a couple more suited for each other until Lacey and Pan.”

“I love when you share happy stories from your past you always seem so happy when telling them.” Paul said as he hugged his son.

“Okay enough of the mushy stuff I have parties to attend to.” Drake replied before blinking out of sight.

Lacey and Jake walked into Devilish Delights to find the entire club decked out with valentines themed decorations and a large table on the stage filled with all kinds of different food.

“I’m guessing Drake got a deal on Valentine’s decorations.” Jake joked.

“Oh, I highly doubt he paid for any of this.” Lacey laughed. “Somebody really needs to discuss personal gain with that one.”

“You mean all this was done by magic?” Jake asked as he looked around the club amazed. “Drake sure has changed since our high school days.”

“We’ve all changed since high school to be fair and all for the better.” Lacey told her brother as they sat down at a table together.

“I guess this means it’s just the two of us tonight?” Jake wondered before his and Lacey’s father suddenly appeared in front of them as if from out of nowhere.

“Dad...” Lacey and Jake said in unison before standing up from the chairs and rushing over to hug their father.

“Quinn I wasn’t expecting you to be here!” Pan said with excitement in her voice as she walked into P3 to find Paul and Quinn stood by the bar before she walked over to them both and gave her former white lighter a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here my wedding wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

“I’m guessing it’s just a party of three then considering Drake will no doubt be attending his best friend’s hen night.” Paul told them both before all three of them were left stunned when Piper and Melinda appeared from out of nowhere.

“Well in that case there’s more than enough space for another two to add to the party.” Melinda said to them before rushing over to hug her two children Paul and Pan. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“And let’s not forget who you’re really excited to see.” Piper announced before going over to join Melinda, Paul and Pan’s group hug as she pulled Quinn in to join in on the hugging.

“I guess Drake really does know how to plan things perfectly.” Paul said with a smile as the group hug broke off.

“There is nothing in this world that would stop us from being there at your wedding.” Piper told her granddaughter Pan. “We tried to push the elders to let us all come down, but they don’t go for it.”

Suddenly artist Avril Lavigne blinked on stage along with her band and their equipment much to everyone in P3’s surprise.

“Okay now that’s a slightly impressive yet highly problematic use of magic right there.” Piper said to Pan, and Paul as Avril and her band began to set up to play for them. “Have you even mentioned personal gain to Drake?”

“Yeah I just kind of said it like it was more of a suggestion than a necessity but don’t worry grams I’m sure Avril Lavigne or her band won’t remember any of this come tomorrow.” Pan replied to her.

“I hope I’m not interrupting family night I just thought I’d pop in to make sure everything’s running along smoothly.” Drake said after blinking into Devilish Delights to find Eric, Lacey and Jake stood at the bar only for Eric to quickly meet him with a hug.

“You’ve always been a part of this family Drake.” Eric told him while continuing to hug Drake tighter. “You’ve done a great job tonight now enjoy it with us.”

“Yeah my hen night isn’t complete without my best friend.” Lacey said to Drake after he broke off his hug with her dad.

“You’ve done a really good job tonight.” Jake congratulated Drake.

“You really have,” Lacey agreed as she hugged into her father once again. “This is already the best hen night a girl could ever ask for.”

“Yeah well it’s only fair that after all magic has cost you all that it gives you a little something back.” Drake told his best friend Lacey. “After all you’ve been through and knowing you all these years it really is a true pleasure getting to see you watch the woman you love tomorrow.”

“Look at you all emotion forward and everything.” Lacey laughed before breaking away from her dad to hug her best friend. “You’ve come such a long way too and I’m glad we did it together like we always have.”

Artist Avril Lavigne stood on stage with her band at P3 performing her song it was in me while Pan, Paul, Piper, Quinn and Melinda sat within the family booth each holding drinks in their hands and enjoying some quality family time as the night before Pan and Lacey’s valentine wedding drew closer and closer to an end.

“I can’t believe my daughter is getting married tomorrow and to angel just like you mum.” Melinda happily gushed to her mother Piper while the others mumbling amongst themselves.

“I can believe it in fact I’m surprised it took them this long, but nothing is ever easy in this family.” Piper replied to her daughter before raising her glass, grabbing everyone’s attention to make a toast. “Here’s to a couple who couldn’t be anymore suited for each other and a valentine wedding that is truly going to be magical.”

“Yeah and to Pan and Lacey hopefully finding the perfect home.” Quinn let slip while everyone raised their glasses to toast to Pan and Lacey leaving Paul shocked and very unamused. “Oh, which wasn’t going to be revealed until after they found somewhere.”

“Your planning on moving out?�� Paul asked his sister, clearly not liking the idea of no longer living with his little sister.

“You guys have lived together forever but now is a time for you all to start a new chapter in your lives son.” Melinda told Paul, trying to defend her daughter’s decision. “You’ve made your own little family and now it’s Pan’s turn to do the same with Lacey.”

“I was going to tell you once we found somewhere but I guess now it’s out.” Pan admitted to her brother. “It’s not like you’re going to be alone I mean Drake and Lilah will still be living with you.”

“I know Pan it’s just you and I have always lived together we’ve always done everything together and it’s going to be weird living in a home you no longer live in.” Paul replied to her. “You’re more than just my little sister you’re my best friend.”

“I’m going to miss you too you, big idiot but it’s not like we’re not still going to see each other all the time.” Pan said as she pulled her brother in for a hug. “And you’ll always be my best friend that will never change.”

As the hours passed on the night before Valentine’s Day Drake, Jake, Lacey and Eric had found themselves sat around a table within an otherwise empty Devilish Delights the foursome continued to laugh and reminisce while keeping the beers and shots flowing throughout the night.

“Between Lacey trying on my suits when she was a kid and Jake always breaking into his mother’s shoe collection, we literally had to get really good at hiding things from them.” Eric laughed.

“Yeah well I guess I was going through an experimental stage back then.” Jake blushed before looking over at Drake as the two shared a smile with each other.

“I’m still a solid fan of suits I just have better taste in them now no offense dad.” Lacey teased her father.

“Talking about offenses.” Drake said before waving his hand blinking a large ton of paperwork onto their table.

“What is all that?” Jake asked him, while Lacey and Eric both look equally as confused as Jake himself.

“To save you having to read all the boring paperwork it’s basically a record declaring that all charges made against you have been completely wiped from your record.” Drake revealed to him. “I know it’s far too late to try and bring all those years you spent in jail or on the run back to you but I figured it was about time you stopped running and could call this city your home again.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Jake said while stunned by Drake’s actions.

“It included various spells a father who’s a lawyer for the legal stuff and a few elders who tolerate me to lend me some fairy dust in order to get everything all wiped including memories all except from the inner circle of course but you Jake Morgan are now and free man.” Drake explained to his first love before waving his hand making a folder appear on top of the paperwork. “And that is an application for San Francisco Police Department so that if you want to continue your family’s legacy like you wanted to all those years ago you can feel free to go ahead.”

“I think Pan may have actually been bet as the super witch around here.” Lacey joked before turning to look at her brother. “I’m so happy for you to finally be free I’m just sorry it took this long and sorry all this happened to you in the first place.”

As the night before the big day was close to coming to an end Piper and Melinda had found themselves having to assist a very drunk Pan and Paul home to the Halliwell Manor before throwing the passed out siblings onto the couch in the living room and throwing a blanket over them both.

“I can’t help but feel like we’re forgetting something or someone.” Melinda said to her mother while watching over her sleeping children.

“Not that I can think…damn.” Piper began to say before realizing they had left Quinn asleep at P3. “Quinn, we forgot Quinn oh well I’m sure he’ll be fine crashing at P3 until morning.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Melinda laughed while continuing to watch her son and daughter sleep. “I just can’t believe how much they’ve grown I just wish Patience could be here too for Pan’s big day but that would be far too complicated to try and explain to everybody.”

“Yeah besides poor Patty is still adjusting to the after life and telling them their sister was so close all this time only to have recently died would only torture them as much as it did us.” Piper replied to her daughter. “I’m just glad at least one of my grandchildren gets to have a happy ending and I hope both Paul and Drake will follow Pan’s path towards happiness for themselves too.”

“Grams I’m sorry I didn’t make it tonight, but I got carried away reminiscing with the others.” Drake said after blinking into the living room before rushing over to Piper to give her a hug. “I always love it when you swing by for a visit…well nowadays I do anyway.”

“It’s good to see you too Drake I’m so proud of all you’ve done tonight.” Piper told him. “And all you’ve came through recently speaking of which where is my darling great-great granddaughter?”

“Cole’s sister Raven is babysitting her tonight you’ll get to see Lilah at the wedding and just wait till you see this adorable dress Pan picked out for her.” Drake replied to his grams.

“It’s nice to see you again…well for the first-time face to face.” Melinda said to her grandson who immediately looked awkwardly at her.

“Thanks,” Drake forced himself to say to his father’s mother before returning all his attention back to Piper. “Listen I’m actually pretty tired and I’m planning on getting up extra early tomorrow so I can squeeze in some quality time with Lilah before Pan and Lacey’s wedding, so I’ll see you in the morning.”

Drake quickly gave Piper another hug before blinking out of sight clearly in a rush to get away from his grandmother Melinda as quickly as possible.

“He still hates me for convincing Paul to give him up, doesn’t he?” Melinda asked her mother, already knowing the answer was yes.

“Drake will come around it just takes him time he’s stubborn like his father but he’s also good a big heart like his father too.” Piper told her daughter.

Valentine’s Day

Drake walked into the dining room of his family home still in his pajamas to find Cole sat at the table in a smart suit with Drake’s daughter Lilah on his lap who was wearing a pretty pink dress and looked so beyond adorable that Drake’s face instantly lit up as he walked over to them both and took his daughter in his arms for some cuddles and kisses.

“Daddy missed you so much last night.” Drake told his daughter before looking at Cole. “Thanks for bringing her over.”

“Of course, you know I always have time for my main girl.” Cole said as he stood up to face Drake. “Listen Drake about our kiss…”

“Shouldn’t have happened just like the time when I shouldn’t have kissed you because you were right, we’re friends and we don’t need to complicate things between us.” Drake butted in. “I hope you’re okay with that?”

“Oh, thank god,” Cole breathed a sigh of relief. “Not that I wasn’t tempted to complicate things because trust me I was I even went out and got you a valentine gift out of a moment of weakness before realizing that’s not what I wanted for us. We’re a good team the way we are, or we were before we complicated everything, and I’d like to go back to no complications.”

“Yeah I’d really like that,” Drake said sincerely. “I’ve missed our friendship and I’d like to try uncomplicating my life just a little.”

“Tell Pan and Lacey I wish them all the best, but I can’t stay today I’ve got to leave the city for a while for reasons I can’t explain right now.” Cole told his friend before kissing Lilah on the forehead and then kissing Drake’s before shimmering away.

“Well that’s one less complication now I’ve just got to put up with the other three today and I’m golden.” Drake told his daughter before Piper walked in from the kitchen.

“I’m so glad you didn’t make the same mistake as my sister and married that guy.” Piper said to Drake.

“He’s a changed man from those days.” Drake defended his friend. “He’s just not the one for me.”

“You’re so willing to give him so many chances why not try giving Melinda one?” Piper suggested to her great-grandson before walking over and taking Lilah into her arms. “She only wants to get to know you and try make up for her mistakes.”

“Fine I’ll give the woman a chance but no promises…” Drake sighed.

Piper, Drake, Melinda and Raven stood within the front row of chairs in the sun-room of the family home which was perfectly decorated in red and white wedding decorations symbolizing a valentines style wedding while artist Kelly Clarkson and her band stood to the side of a beautiful altar made of white and red roses as Quinn and Leo Wyatt orbed into the room to stand next to Piper.

“I didn’t think they’d let you come for this,” Piper said with a smile before kissing her husband. “Pan’s going to be so happy you could make it.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Leo replied to his wife.

“Hi, I’m Drake I’m your…” Drake began to introduce himself to Leo before Leo rushed over to hug his great-grandson.

“I know who you are I’m glad to meet you.” Leo told him before breaking of his hug with his great-grandson.

Kelly Clarkson began singing an acoustic version of her hit single my life would suck without you as Lacey walked into the sun-room wearing a beautiful wedding dress with her brother Jake on one arm and her father Eric on the other arm as she walked down the aisle before reaching the altar as Eric and Jake went to stand within the second row of chairs among the family.

Moments later Pan was the next beautiful and blushing bride to walk into the sun-room wearing an equally beautiful wedding dress with her brother Paul on her arm as the song continued while the two of them walked down the aisle before Paul gave his sister a kiss on the cheek as he left her at the altar with Lacey and walked over to hug his grandfather Leo before the family sat down ready to watch Pan Halliwell and Lacey Morgan get married as the original grams and Pan’s great-great grandmother Penny Halliwell appeared in front of the two brides ready to marry them.

“You look stunning Mrs Morgan.” Lacey told her future wife while grabbing a hold of Pan’s hands.

“As do you Mrs Halliwell.” Pan responded with love for her future wife glowing from her.

The family watched as the two brides became two wives on valentine’s day marking the start of a beautiful marriage between Pan Morgan-Halliwell and Lacey Morgan-Halliwell.

“We’ve been through a lot both together and alone and I have never been happier than when you are with me getting through the many storms in our lives.” Pan said during her vows to Lacey. “I knew I loved you from the first moment we met, and I know I’m going to love you until my last breath and long after that. Even in death I my spirit will go on to love you for all of eternity.”

“I never thought I’d ever meet someone who could well and truly complete me in ways I never thought possible.” Lacey said during her vows to Pan. “I vow to make you the most important person always and to never forget how much I love you for as long as we both shall live and I’m kind of living or not living until the end of time.”

“I do!” Mrs and Mrs Morgan-Halliwell both declared before sharing a kiss as the entire room cheered on the two blushing brides with glee.

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allthingswritings · 6 years ago

Text

Trip Back Home

Peter was bored. He was in chemistry-his last class of the day-and was ignoring Mr. Harrington’s boring lecture over elements and how they bond together. He’d already learned about this the week prior with Bruce in the lab and to say he was an expert by now would be an understatement. Currently Peter was texting Tony under his desk about what they should have for dinner, Tony said pizza and Peter said lasagna, when he was pulled back to the reality of his class with a nudge at his side. It was Ned. “Dude?!?,” Peter hissed in a hushed tone, “what was the for?” “Mr. Harrington has and “important” announcement.” Ned replied in an equally hushed tone. “Class!” Mr. Harrington called for the students who had somehow managed to get rowdy in the time it took to him to pick up a stack of papers “I have some exciting news. We’re going on a field trip this Friday!” The teacher said. “Where are we going?” One of Peters classmate asked. “Well,” Mr. Harrington started, barely containing his excitement, “Were going to Stark Industries! Here’s your permission slips. ” He stated handing out the stack of papers he had previously picked up. The class erupted into excited whispers about what they hoped to see there. Peter however was neither happy nor excited about the destination of said trip. Peter galnced over at Ned who was smiling ear to ear about the thought of getting to be in the same building as Tony Stark but when he locked eyes with Peter his smile quickly faded understanding his best friends dilemma. Peter had been living in Stark Tower for a little over 4 months. About 4 1/2 months ago Aunt May had contracted a serious illness due to working in the hospital and died shortly after, leaving Peter with no family and no where to go. Mr. Stark then took Peter to go live with him in the tower and the avengers soon became his new family, so the thought of his class going anywhere near his home terrified Peter. With a headache forming Peter let his head rest on his cool desk. “Hey Parker!” Flash taunted from across the room, “you excited? Your lie is finally going to be exposed.” Just as Peter was about to snap at Flash Ned grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room given that the period was now over with a reminder to get the slip signed from Mr. Harrington. “Ignore him, he’s just jealous and you can prove him wrong on Friday.” “Thanks Ned.” Peter said grimly but accepted his friends encouragement. “So…what are you going to do? I mean it’s not going to go unnoticed around school if our class finds out you live at the tower with the avengers. I mean it’s awesome and all but that’s a little more than just interning and-“ Ned rambled on but stopped abruptly when he noticed Peters worried expression. “I don’t know Ned. I mean either I die from embarrassment or…” Peter thought for a second, “nope. That’s the only possible outcome of this trip.” Peter sighed as he gathers his belongings from his locker. Ned felt bad for his friend as they walked out of the front of the school and spotted Happy’s car waiting. Once they said their goodbyes and went their separate ways Peter walked to the car and came to the only reasonable he could think of. Friday was going to be the death of him.

———————-——————————————————————————————-

-Friday Morning- Peter walked into school that morning, the signed permission slip weighing heavy in his bag, and prepared to turn it in. In the days leading up to the trip Peter tried in vain to come up with an excuse as to why he couldn’t go on the trip, but when Peter thought of non he asked Pepper to sign his slip and practically begged her not to tell the others. To make matters worse Flash somehow managed to get his number and was constantly sending his messages like “your not even good enough for an internship at a gas station much less SI”, “Your a worthless liar Parker!”, and “your nothing to Tony Stark, he’s just using you to look good in the press”. Of course Peter didn’t tell anyone about Flash’s messages and due to Peter actually being a terrible liar he became very antsy whenever Mr. Stark would ask him about school which only fueled the engineers suspicions about Peter being bullied. So when Peter handed in his slip he accepted his fate and trudged up the steps of the old, musty, yellow bus that would take him back to his house. Since the trip was all day Peter hadn’t bothered with a backpack and only brought the necessary items. His phone and his earbuds. The second Peter slid into the open seat Ned had left for him he was bombarded by a string of questions from his friend but Peter ultimately decided not to answer any knowing his friend wouldn’t stop asking long enough for Peter to even get a word in. Just as Peter was about to put his earbuds in he heard a familiar taunt. “Yo Parker! Think you can get your old friend Tony Stark to get me an internship?” Flash called. At this point the entire bus had stopped what they were previously doing and took notice of the current situation. “What do you know Flash? You probably couldn’t even spell Tony Stark. “ MJ said from the seat across the isle of Peter and Ned. “Can too!” Flash retorted back “T-O-N-Y S-T-“ Just then the bus hit a large bump surprising Flash and causing him to stutter and fall from his seat and into the isle. “See,” MJ smirked, “After all Peter’s on the decalathon team and your only an alternate. A-L-T-E-R-N-A-T-E” MJ finished causing a deep blush to grace Flash’s checks making him duck his head in embarrassment. “Ok you too, that’s enough!” Mr. Harrington called from the front. Peter sighed and finished putting his earbuds in with a grateful nod twords MJ. Today was going to be a long day. _____________________________ As the bus pulled into the parking lot Peter heard his classmates conversations turn into excited whispers about the building in front of them. When they excited the bus his classmates looked and marveled at the 100 story tower that they now stood at the bottom of. Peter of course was the only one, besides MJ, who looked unimpressed given the he lived there. When the class of 20 walked in and saw who their tour guide was Peter instantly felt a little relief. It was one of the newer interns that didn’t know Peter that well named Emily. Peter and Emily had only talked a handful of times so she didn’t realize his position at the tower and how high up he really was and as far as Peter knew she thought he was a real intern. “Good Morning Midtown! My name is Emily and I’ll be your guide for today.” She said once the class was close enough. “Good Morning.” Mr. Harrington said back, “We are so excited to be here.” “Great” Emily smiled. “Let me just hand out these badges and go through security then we can start the tour.” Peter heard her say. ‘Crap’ he thought. See once Peter moved in, Mr. Stark had F.R.I.D.A.Y. start recognizing him by face so he didn’t have to always carry his badge and Peter gave Mr. Stark his badge back. ‘How am I going to explain not needing a badge to get around? I mean that’s going to raise a lot of eyebrows right?’ Peter thought. He didn’t even realize Emily was almost to him in the line until he heard her voice near him. By the time she was only two people away Peter started to nervously fidget with his hands coming to the realization the Emily Probaly hadn’t made him a badge assuming he had his own from his “internship”. As Emily handed a badge to the guy next to him Peter looked away expecting her to skip over him and go to the next person. “Oh Peter! Here’s your badge. Pepper said you left it in the lab yesterday.” She said handing him his old badge not acknowledging that it was noticeably different from the other interns badges. “T-thanks” Peter stutterd out, making a mental note to thank Pepper later for saving him from having to explain himself. When he looked around he was thankful no one noticed his different badge. Yet. “Class if you will follow me through security then we can begin.” Called out Emily _____________________________ Once everyone made it through security with only a few turned heads at F.R.I.D.A.Y recognizing Peter, Emily started to go over the tour and what they would see. “Ok students. We are splitting up the tour into parts. 25% in the morning then 75% after lunch. Since it’s nearly 10:00 thanks to the hour commute you guys experienced we will tour for about 2 hours, eat lunch, then finish the tour afterwards. So let’s begin!” Once they made it to the first stop of the tour, a floor set up a lot like a museum for the avengers and SI, that was he first time Flash saw his badge. “So Parker, how’d you manage to get that badge? I mean your too poor to pay someone to use theirs so what’d you do? Did you steal it?” He sneered. “No, I work here remember?” Peter stated as he tried to walk away but Flash grabbed his arm making him stop. “If you really work here then prove it and get me an internship too” “no” “why not Parker? Is it because it’s not real?” “Because I don’t have to” Just when it looked like Flash was ready to punch Peter he got hit in the face with a crumpled piece of paper. When both boys looked around they saw MJ drawing in her notebook trying to suppress a grin. “MJ, did you ju-“ “Ok class, time to move on!” Emily said, effectively cutting off Flash. When the class started to shuffle to the elevator flash turned back to Peter and pushed him to the ground. “This isn’t over Parker” was all he said as he walked back to the group but not before F.R.I.D.A.Y. caught it on video and sent it to the lab as the elevator door slid closed, taking them to their final destination before lunch. _____________________________ When the doors opened and the class stepped off Emily began to talk. “Class this is one of our many R&D labs. Right now we are just going to observe then after lunch we get to do an activity in one of the labs.” When the clsss stepped up the viewing glass they were in awe. All around the lab tech was being built, experiments were being conducted, and ideas were being formed. To the class it was amazing but to Peter it was boring him to death. ‘This is one of the most basic labs in the tower. If this is amazing to them then the rest of the tour will be jaw dropping.’ Peter thought. After a few minutes one of the scientists stepped outside and explained in depth about what the were doing and began to answer some questions. After about 30 minuets of questions Emily called for the last one. “Is it true that Parker is an intern here?” Flash asked in a smug voice clearly think he had won. Peter could almost hear the smirk in his voice. “Peter? Yeah he’s an intern here. In fact he’s one of the best I’ve ever seen.” The scientist confessed as Peter reddened when he felt eyes land on him. Flash however scoffed with a mumbled with an “whatever” only Peter could hear. “Now class,” Emily called gaining everyone’s attention,”time for lunch.” And with that they were back into the elevator on their way to the cafeteria. _____________________________ -Mr. Stark’s personal lab- F.R.I.D.A.Y. had to wait until Mr. Stark got out of a meeting got show him the footage she had captured. The second he got into the lab F.R.I.D.A.Y. showed him the clip and explained what happend. The second she was done Tony stormed out of the lab and into the common room where the rest of the avengers were. “We have a problem.” Tony said and the Avengers look up at him in alert. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. show them.” Before the video even had a chance to finish the team was already walking in the elevator and Tony told F.R.I.D.A.Y. to take them to the class. They were mad. Scratch the they were pissed and rightfully so and they’d be damned if they let this kid “Flash” as F.R.I.D.A.Y. had called him, lay another hand on Peter. Peter was their family, their kid, and they would do whatever it would take to protect him. They just didn’t realize how bad it had gotten between Peter and Flash.

———————————————————————————————————-

— Flashback — It was after school and all the halls had cleared. Peter was standing at his locker and was about to close the door when someone did it for him. “What do you want Flash?” Asked Peter slightly annoyed. He had a long day and the only thing he wanted right now was to go home and sleep. But when does Peter ever get what he wants? “What’s up Puny? I just wanted to have a little chat with ya. Look we all know you’re lying about your internship so just come clean ok?” “I’m not lying Flash. Just accept it.” Peter retorted back At this Flash pushed Peter back into the locker “Shut up! You think your entitled and can lie just because you don’t have a mommy or daddy anymore? Huh? Well you aren’t so just keep your mouth shut.” And with that Flash threw Peter down the stairs and stormed off leaving Peter littered with bruises that he told Tony were from patrol. ———————— “Ok class, let’s pack up our lunches and throw our trash away and head back up” Emily said in her usual cheery voice. “Yes Ma’am” came the monotonous responds from the class. Once they were all pulled into the elevator, and on the way to a higher level lab than before, Emily began to speak. “So I know you guys are all probably bored of hearing rules but it is a mandatory procedure for all tour guides so, while we’re are in the lab you must wear goggles and an apron at all times for safety, there will also be no: filming, touching experiments, rough housing, blah blah blah” Peter just tuned her out knowing half of the rules didn’t even exist, it may be a higher lab than before but it was still a pretty basic one, Emily was just adding these because they were high schoolers. When they arrived at the lab, Emily told the class she would scan her badge first then the others could scan theirs and go in. As Emily was attempting to scan her badge to get in she found it wasn’t working. “Crap,” she muttered “Alright class my badge isn’t working right now so I’m going to call an IT guy to come up and try to get it to work so just hang on a min.” “Can’t you override it?” Ned leaned over and whispered. “Well yeah I can, but to them I’m just an intern so I shouldn’t be able to” “Oh ok” “Say Peter,” Flash piped up, “Can’t you use your badge? Ya know since you work here and all?” He said with devilish glint in his eyes “Yeah Peter, use your badge.” Said a familiar voice. A very familiar voice. When Peter looked up he saw none other than the billionaire whose been raising him for the past few months. Tony Stark. He had his hand clasped over Flash’s shoulder, who was looking very full of himself, “I’m willing to bet money his badge won't work anyways. I doubt he even works here.” Flash said to Tony, his smirk never faltering. “I guess we’ll just have to see.” Tony said with a smirk of his own but Peter could tell it had a different meaning from the one Flash wore. “O-O-Ok sure th- sure thing M-M-Mr. St-t-ark” Peter stuttered out while silently curing both Flash and Tony. He walked up and swiped his card, “Override Protocol?” Said an automated voice that didn’t belong to F.R.I.D.A.Y. “Yes, Override protocol.” Peter responded back a little shaky and very aware of the eyes that lingered on him when the door opened with a ‘woosh’. Flash, who was still next to Mr. Stark, stared wide-eyed as said billionaire let go and walked toward the the door.” Alright then class,” Mr. Stark said waving his hand in a motion letting Emily know she could leave and he would be taking over the tour. “Let’s head in.”< When Emma started to leave she looked back at Peter and they shared a fearful look. Peter gulped, scared about was coming. Once inside Peter chanced a look around the room and to his surprise everything looked normal. Or so he thought “Alright class please find a seat. One of my friends is going to pass out a test. It’s an IQ test to see if there any potential employees in here.” Everyone perked up and started to look around excitedly, everyone except for Peter. “You’ll have 20 minutes to complete the test then after we will start the real fun. “I've got this in the bag. After they see my score there’s no way they could deny me an internship.” Peter heard Flash say smugly to his friends. Apparently Tony heard it too because he responded “‘I wouldn’t be too sure about that Eugene.” Mr. Stark said with a glare but quickly flashed his million dollar smile. Just then none other than Captain America walked in holding a stack of papers. “Thanks Cap, they each get one.” Tony said as Steve passed them out. “Begin.” And with that the only sound in the lab was the sound pencil on paper. When Peter looked down at his paper he had to physically keep himself from face palming. The test was only 5 questions but those 5 questions were all advanced chemistry. A.K.A things these high schoolers couldn’t even hope to understand. Of course Peter understood it, in fact he could do all this in his head but that’s because he’s Peter. Peter who has worked alongside and even challenged the minds of Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Peter looked back up and glared at Mr. Stark who just gave him a silent “what?” With a as Peter just glared harder and shook his head trying to hide the smile he had at his mentors antics. When he looked around at his classmates he saw worry and panic on all of their faces. He just laughed silently to himself and looked back up at Mr. Stark who was also silently laughing. They locked eyes and Mr. Stark winked at Peter much to his confusion but Peter didn’t have time to question it because just then the timer went off. Peter looked at his paper and quickly jotted down the answers without any work “Ok class” Tony started, “pass your papers to the front. While those are being graded we are gonna work on a little project for two of our avengers. *whistles* Widow, Legolas!” The two master assassins walked in and the whole room quieted. The class looked at them in awe but didn’t dare to look them in the eye, everyone except Peter, once again. He sent a small wave in their direction to which they discreetly returned. “Dang, I was expecting a standing ovation, you guys are lame.” Barton joked which earned him a jab at his side from Natasha. “Zip it bird brain you’re here for looks.” Tony quipped back jokingly and started laughing when Barton stuck his tongue out at the mentor. “So we will divide into 2 groups and one will work on designs for new widow bites and the other will work on designs for Hawkeye’s arrows. Whichever group has the best idea wins!” While the two groups worked the 4 avengers stood off to the side looking pretty proud of themselves, like they just created a million dollar question and were the only ones who knew the answer. ————————————- “Alright stop” Mr. Stark said and both groups presented their design ideas. The group Flash was in was tasked with the arrow design and although they had 45 minutes to come up with one simple design, Flash had shot down every idea the group came up with saying they were useless. Needless to say they had nothing to show for their ideas, and Flash was to blame. Peters group actually had a good idea that impressed both Mr. Stark and Natasha with their design. Mr. Stark deemed them the “winners” and promised to build their design to see if it would’ve worked as Natasha agreed to test it out. “Now that that’s over we have graded your tests and have the results back.” As Mr. Stark read through the results Peter was at the back of the group trying to shrink into the floor, already knowing what was coming. Flash wouldn’t get the IQ level he would want and combined with losing the competition would probably lash out and Peter would be who he turned to to blame. ‘Great’ Peter thought, ‘in front of my family too’ “Eugene Thompson” Mr. Stark’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, “103” “I knew it! I’m the best! Take that Parker! I’ll come see you after the tour so we can discuss my future here.” Flash called out smugly. “Hold up now son.” Cap said “For starters we don’t accept behavior like that here.” “Nor do we accept egotistical brats.” Natasha chimed in. “Not to mention the fact that we don’t even consider accepting someone with that low of an IQ.” Said Tony “And most we certainly don’t accept bullies here” said Bucky as he walked into the room, metal arm gleaming, with Wanda hot on his heels, hands already glowing red. If looks could kill, Flash would be dead a thousand times over based from the glares he was getting from the avengers, and Pepper wasn’t even in the room...yet. “B-B-But how? Peter works here and there is no way Puny Parker over there is smarter than me.” Flash said, obviously not knowing when to quit. “What did you just call him?” Said Pepper who seemed to have just appeared out of nowhere and looking mad enough for all the avengers combined. “Let me educate you Eugene since you clearly can't do it for yourself. Peter, my son, has an IQ of over 141. He already has a full paid scholarship to MIT, works right beside some of the greatest minds in the world, and he still has time to give back to the community with a charity he created for the homeless. So I’m sorry you’ve been miss lead here but we don’t ever want someone like you working here. Leave.” By the time Pepper finished her jaw was locked and she was seething through gritted teeth. Flash who looked like he was about to wet himself ran to the door but to his horror it was being held closed by Wanda. “Don’t you have something to say to Peter?” She asked. “I’m s-so sor-sorry. I didn’t know. I-I’ll never b-b-bother you again.” Flash said red-faced and looking like he was close to tears. With his apology said Wanda opened the door and Flash ran off. Pepper turned to Mr. Harrington, who had remained quiet throughout the whole ordeal, “The tour is over, so please guide your class out and if I find out you let another kid get bullied in your class ever again, I will personally pay your boss a visit and see to it that your teaching license is suspended.” “Also Peter is staying with us.” Said Barton from beside Natasha. At that the class, who still look shocked at what just went down, scurried out the door and into the elevator. All that were left were Peter, Pepper, Tony, and the other avengers. Pepper took a calming breath and turned to face the group, “How about some ice cream and a movie?” A chorus of “sure” and “sounds good to me” filled the room as they too left the lab. —————————— Monday When school rolled around the next Monday Peter was a little nervous about what would happen. What would people say? What would they think? However he didn’t have time to worry about it as he arrived at his locker and waited for Ned and MJ. After he got his books and closed his locker he locked eyes with Flash from across the hall. Peter instinctively cowered away but it was Flash who broke the eye contact and scurried down the hall and away from Peter as fast as his legs would carry him. Flash’s group of friends looked up and started walking toward where he ran off. As they passed Peter he braced himself for a shove or snarky comment from the group but all he got was a “sup Parker” from some of the guys. Maybe, just maybe, the field trip wasn’t so bad after all.

#peter parker #tony stark #peter parker field trip #pepper potts #avengers team #ned leeds #flash thompson

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pastelgrungewrecker · 6 years ago

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Any ot6 kid with Mary did you know

Coming of Age

Mary did you know that your baby boy would save our sons and daughters?

How many teachers has she had, in so many walks of life?

How many bullets arced away from her young heart, from their beginning armor?

Mary and the Magdalene were saviors too.

How long had they hid behind sweatpants and tshirts? Behind oversized lab coats that never quite fit?

Behind a braid that matched history in everything but the wearer?

And now they were faced with a stepping stone- a shaking bridge between years and suddenly their old bitter bickering seemed so far away and pointless. Students and masters in their own right they watched the breakdown as Quickdraw hid his face and helped Mimi to her feet- the rattled of failing prosthetics loud in their ears.

They heard the insults hurled for so many years and bodily blocked for just as long.

And as Quickdraw was called failure and menace, and as Mimi was called mistake and useless- it was Dani who stepped forward. Her eyes were hot as forcefire embers and her bony hands curled into fists like shrapnel bombs as she planted herself in front of her brother and sisters and breathed fire in the shape of words.

“Say that to my fucking face, I dare you.”

She, too, was a child of Deadlock at her core. She, too, bore those fatherly sins on her shoulders no matter how hard Mimi fought to keep the weight manageable. And she, too, knew where her loyalties lay like forgotten ghosts.

Kickback, dubbed Kiki by her peers, moved to stand beside her sister.

“You deal with them, I’ll help Mimi.”, she said quietly, coldly, bitterly as only the daughter of Ratchet the Hatchet could be, “And whatever is left I’ll mark Do Not Resuscitate.”

“Deal.”, hissed Dani.

Dani watched eyes grow scared as they watched her, heard the call of Chrona as Mimi swore softly- still editing her words after all these years and growth spurts.

Dani drew to her full height, a nightmare-witch, a harbinger of suffering as her father once had been

“WELL?!”, she snarled, her voice bottoming out into a bellow that reached across years and battlefields, “WELL, COME ON! WHERE ARE ALL THOSE BIG FUCKING WORDS NOW, HUH? NOT SO EASY WHEN THERE’S NO PROSTHETICS TO AIM AT, HUH?!”

She took a step forward, her audience took a step back. Her hand shot out, curling into a shirtcollar and hauling them close. They struck, her jaw throbbing with the blow and she laughed in violent hysterics before spitting in their face to make them flinch in her grip.She hauled hard, gleefully drinking in their fear as their feet left the ground.

“Aw, what’sa matter honey?”, she cooed, her other hand flexing its fingers, “Cat got your tongue? Or maybe it’s fucking cowardice, huh?”

She heard Chrona’s footsteps slow, and a low laugh echo from behind her- nasally and eerie and she could see in her mind as Chrona tilted her head.

Dani’s smile went from sharp and toothy to thin-lipped and unimpressed.

“Unlike my big sis, I’m not against causing some fucking pain.”, she whispered to her victim, “And unlike my big sis, I fight dirty.”

She dropped them, her foot already swinging in a sharp kick as they swore in surprise only to scream in pain. She stomped down, onto an exposed wrist, and relished the snap it earned her.

Kiki appeared at her side, looking down with blatant disgust.

“Ew, there’s shit on your shoes, sis.”

Dani looked down, grinding her shoe onto the broken wrist beneath it until tears came to her victim’s eyes.

“Ugh, gross.”

She put her weight further onto her foot, sliding it back as through scraping mud from the sole of her shoe and grinning again at the scream it got her as the wrist rolled.

She looked up at those left watching, and sneered, “Fuck off, immediately.”

They hesitated, and then Kiki stepped forward; knuckles popping as she clenched her own fists in obvious challenge.

Chrona raised her eyebrows as the two youngest of the mismatched brood glared at the retreating figures- one of which who held a misshapen and crooked wrist close to their chest.

Dani and Kickback looked worriedly at Mimi, who leaned on Quickdraw- who was nursing a black eye. A bolt pinged off of Mimi’s left leg, and she winced as she nearly toppled.

Chrona ruffled Kiki and Dani’s hair, barking a laugh reminiscent of Whirl.

“Attagirl, both of ya.”, she said with a fanged grin, “Guess all those fights over action figures was just practice, huh?”

Dani and Kiki looked at each other, and snorted.

“Something like that. Let’s get home- Papastorm is gonna be PISSED over Mimi’s legs.”

#pastelwrites #humanformers #ot6 kids #dani and kickback inherited the ass kicking gene too #Anonymous

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alloverthegaf · 6 years ago

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If you're still taking prompts, I'd like to send in again "Jarvis finds a secret OP in a certain mountain, while scanning for irregularities in the military dealings with STARK industries." Aka. Tony finds the Stargate. I'm still interested in reading that ^^

You are insanely patient and kind for how long you waited for me to write this my dude, thank you, and thanks for sending it again and reminding me of it because I was so in love with the idea. Hopefully this makes it up to you because this is definitely the longest thing I’ve written in a while, especially in one sitting. I had SO much fun developing the universe for this one too, and have a couple of vague ideas to maybe add to it in the future.

FYI we’re pretending the Marvel and Stargate timelines match up, don’t question it.

“Sir.”

Tony looks up from his welding torch, shoving the goggles away from his eyes. “What have you got, J?”

A second’s hesitation, which is enough by JARVIS’ standards to have Tony apprehensive. “A problem, Sir.”

Tony leans back in his chair, rolling slightly with the momentum. Well, that’s no surprise. He’s spent the past month and a half tracking down all organisations and branches of military connected to Stark Industries - or rather, he’s had JARVIS track them down - in his ongoing mission to right the wrongs of his war-mongering past. His main goal since the whole terrible clash with Obie has been to put the last scraps of his violent profiteering to rest, and that involves sifting through everyone who’s ever bought a single gun designed by his hands, evaluating their need for his weapons, analysing the actions made, the ambitions desired by his previous customers. In some cases, mostly private militant groups and a number of organisations Tony likes to think even the old him would never have dealt with if it hadn’t been Obie doing the deals and shaking the hands, it’s a simple enough decision; recall what was sold, reimburse them for their troubles, and sic the most well paid lawyers in America on them if they try to fight it.

In other areas, it’s a great deal more complicated, areas like the army where it’s not as simple as taking back what he made and leaving them to fend for themselves. Some few, like the Air Force where Rhodey not only has a great deal of influence but has spent half of his life fighting for, he leaves alone.

JARVIS has been going periodically through every customer on the extensive list and making evaluations of his own to triage the ones that Tony needs to go over. After some thought Tony had confirmed that he should go through all branches of the Air Force as well, because while Rhodey believes in them and he believes in Rhodey, he knows his best friend’s reach is not infinite.

“What kind of problem?”

“I have tracked a number of Personal Defence Weapons to a Top Secret Air Force facility in Colorado. It claims to be a Deep Space Radar Telemetry unit but all information regarding the outfit is classified.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. JARVIS isn’t one to let a little thing like ‘classified’ stop him. “So de-classify it.”

“I did, Sir.”

Another hesitation. Tony feels his curiosity piqued. “Do you want a drum roll?”

JARVIS doesn’t respond, simply throws up the very secret, very illegally obtained files on the nearest screen. Tony cocks his head towards it and rolls his chair closer. Five minutes of reading and Tony finds himself checking to make sure it’s not April 1st.

“Am I not giving you enough attention, JARVIS? You playing pranks on your old man now?”

“I assure you, Sir, this is all directly from the Air Force database.”

Tony goes back to the files. “Hmm.”

The klaxon is ringing in his ears, accompanied by a rhythmic ‘intruder alert’ as Daniel rushes through the grey corridors of Stargate Command. It’s a testament to just how long he’s spent in this facility that he no longer gets lost, so many levels and hallways all so eerily identical it’s as if they were specifically designed to spin you in circles.

Jack insists it’s simply because the Air Force “has a boner for boring”. Daniel had rolled his eyes at the comment, but secretly he’d agreed.

It’s not the more common alarm warning of an off-world activation, and that more than anything has Daniel on edge. Perhaps he should find some kind of relief in the fact that there isn’t a System Lord currently trying to bash their way through the Iris, but that situation at least is familiar. They’ve never had someone actually break into the mountain from the more Earthly side before. Their security’s too good for that. Which means whoever’s managed to push their way in must be better.

Daniel’s first suspicion is NID. He’s deeply hoping he’s wrong. He’s had about enough of them to last two lifetimes.

He turns the corner and finds a row of airmen stationed in front of the elevator doors, guns raised and at the ready. General Hammond stands behind them, Jack at his side.

It takes a moment for Daniel to register that whatever team has managed to find their way past the SGC’s defences - or blast their way through, and thinking of the friendly corporal who’d waved him through the front gate this morning he sincerely hopes it’s the former option - are now using the elevator. As he reaches Jack’s side and takes in the steady line of guns pointed at the doors, he wonders if he’s missing some kind of tactical psych out tactic the enemy has employed, or if they simply made it this far on sheer dumb luck.

Jack gives him the side-eye, his own gun held steady in his hands. “Daniel.”

Daniel gives him the side-eye right back. “Jack.”

“Any reason you’ve volunteered yourself for the first line of defence?”

Years of experience has Daniel recognising the reproach for what it is, and years of experience has him waving it off with ease. “We might be able to negotiate.”

Jack doesn’t even try to hide the full bodied sigh at that response. “You might get your head blown off.”

Daniel shrugs. “That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

The elevator dings, the sound obnoxiously bright and cheery in the circumstances, and Jack’s eyes flit back, laser focused. The gun in his hands is raised and Daniel notices with a mix of appreciation and irritation that he steps forward and to the right slightly, putting himself in Daniel’s line of fire.

The room holds their breath, then the doors open, and -

“Iron Man?” one of the men in front whispers with something that sounds embarrassingly like awe. Jack’s eyes narrow and Daniel’s mouth drops open.

The red and gold suit steps forward once, twice, and raises its hands in a peaceful gesture. “Hey. I heard you were having a party.”

It certainly sounds like Stark’s voice, modulated as it is through the suit’s speakers. General Hammond recovers first, demanding “reveal yourself immediately.”

Surprisingly, he does. First the faceplate flips up, showing Tony Stark’s handsome face and iconic facial hair, before the rest of the suit opens. Daniel watches with wide eyes as the panels fold back on themselves and Stark steps out smoothly in a suit that even from this distance he can tell costs more than a month’s rent. “Mister Stark,” Hammond says warily. “This is a top secret facility and upon breaking in you have violated - “

“Yes, yes, I know, big trouble,” says Stark with a flippant wave of his hand. “Feel free to arrest me. I’m sure the media will just love to get my statement on why the Air Force are throwing me in a cell.”

“Is that a threat, Stark?” Jack asks, unamused. Unlike some of the greener men in the room, he’s clearly far from awestruck of the celebrity - and superhero - who’s just crashed his way into Cheyenne Mountain.

“I’m actually hoping we can avoid all the threatening and grand-standing,” he replies. “I’m not here to fight.” He grimaces, just a hint apologetic, and gestures to the suit standing behind him as he says “uh, despite appearances.”

“It’s generally considered polite to call ahead before dropping in,” Jack says, dry as the Sahara.

Tony throws a shiny white smile at him, all charm and boyish innocence. “Have I ever been known to be polite?”

“What is it exactly you want, Mr Stark?” asks Hammond with a deep wariness.

Tony turns his eyes to the General, and for the first time he looks serious as he responds, “to talk, General. How about we start there?”

Mr-Stark-Call-Me-Tony stands by the windows of the briefing room, looking out over the Stargate below with what Daniel assumes is intent fascination. SG-1 sit stiffly at the table with Hammond at the end, watching the billionaire closely. “How is it that you found out about our operation, Mr Stark?”

Tony replies without looking away from the giant ring, something like dry amusement in his tone. “I’m not just famous for my dashing good looks, General. Your firewalls are impressive, by Air Force standards, but they’d hardly a match against me. Don’t feel too bad, no one’s is.”

“So you thought you’d just drop by for a visit?” asks Jack. He’s clearly unimpressed with the man, from his confident swagger to his effortless charm and apparent arrogance. Daniel himself is hardly star-struck; logically he knows the man’s famous, and even he absorbs enough news to know about the violent battle between him and the other unknown pilot that occurred in New York about two months ago. But his job is to study people, and he’s been studying Stark since the moment the faceplate lifted. The confidence the man exudes covers the uncertainty in his eyes. The million dollar smile takes away from the slight tremble in his hands. The flippant jokes distract from the tight lines on his face.

So, Daniel’s reserving judgement. At least until he knows why Stark is here.

“Sure,” Stark responds, finally turning to face them. His hands move to his pockets and he rocks back slightly on his heels. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’ve been shaking things up a little back at SI. Re-evaluating our priorities. I’ve been investigating everyone who’s ever bought so much as a bullet from me, and wasn’t I just full of questions when I came across you.”

Daniel sees Jack glance almost guiltily down at the handgun attached to his hip from the corner of his eye, and Sam doing the same across the table. He’s never personally paid much attention to the gun he uses, prefers to know as little about it as possible, in fact, but he’s seen the Stark logo around base enough times. More than that, he remembers the rant Jack had gone on after Stark had announced the complete retraction of weapons manufacturing. He’d stomped around Daniel’s office the whole time, gesticulating wildly and shouting about unreliability and leaving good men and women in the dust without a way to defend themselves. As if Daniel understood or sympathised at all about the importance of killing machines sold for a profit.

To be fair, Jack had ended his rant with a grudging admission of respect for the man’s apparent new values, and a wince of sympathy for what he must have gone through in those three months of absence. There had been an understanding in Jack’s eyes as he quietly admitted Stark had probably been tortured that Daniel hadn’t stopped seeing behind his eyelids for days afterwards.

“You could have gone through the proper channels,” Hammond reprimands. It’s that tone of disappointment that has managed to make even Jack shuffle guiltily in the past, and Daniel’s gratified to see that the great Tony Stark isn’t entirely immune, but the grimace is wiped from his face as quickly as it comes. “And would I have ever gotten clearance?”

“Probably not,” says Jack unapologetically. “Someone of your... status is a little too public for our liking.”

“Oh come on, Colonel,” says Tony with another of those ‘look how much I don’t care’ grins. “We both know it’s not my celebrity you disapprove of.”

Jack doesn’t argue the point.

“What is it exactly you want from us, Mr Stark?” asks Sam. She and Teal’c have remained silent up until now; Teal’c clearly doesn’t understand or care who this man is, and appears to be happy to leave this issue to his human friends. Sam has been quietly observing and absorbing the situation, but Daniel would bet money that he saw something like excitement show on her face when she first discovered just who had broken into the SGC with all the grace of a rhino. “Are you here to reclaim the weapons you sold to us?”

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure when I first found out,” says Tony. He regards Sam seriously, and, Daniel is gratified to see, with no small amount of respect. “I needed to see for myself, to understand what exactly it is you do here, what you’re... fighting against.”

“Our enemy is most malicious and powerful,” Teal’c speaks for the first time, his words heavy and serious. “They are a threat not only to us but to your entire world.”

“Yeah. I got that.” All amusement has dropped from Stark’s face, the carefree attitude gone to show the stance of someone serious and, perhaps, just a little bit scared. “I’ve read all about those alien slugs. I realise they’re no small threat.” The corner of his mouth ticks up, just a bit. “And I read all about you, Big Guy. I would love to pick your brain some time.”

Teal’c raises one unimpressed eyebrow. “I must decline such an unpleasant experience.” Stark’s face lights up at his deadpan response.

“Mr Stark,” says Hammond, attempting to get them back on track. If you’re not here to reclaim your weapons, why are you here?”

A moment longer of looking at Teal’c before he turns back to the General, serious again. “I’m here to learn, General. That’s my main goal here. I want to understand what exactly it is the world is up against. I want to study what you’ve already discovered.” He glances behind his shoulder, back into the Gate Room. “I would love to do some further study on how that works.”

“I could walk you through that,” Sam pipes up, then immediately looks at Hammond apologetically. “If, uh, you’re approved, that is.”

“It’s Carter, right?” Tony asks, looks at the pins on her shoulders, then at her. “Major Carter? I can tell you probably the only part of this whole thing that wasn’t a surprise was that you were involved. I’ve read your work on astrophysics, Major. You have a beautiful brain.” He says it with a salacious wink, but before Jack and Daniel can do so much as tense, he continues “honestly, if they hadn’t already recruited you I’d be making some phone calls right about now.”

Sam stares at him, clearly a little awe-struck and trying to hide it. “Th... thank you, Mr Stark. I’m familiar with your work as well. Your research articles on quantum mechanics has actually helped me a number of times while working on the Stargate program.

Tony grins, but it’s smaller and softer than the ones he’s thrown at them up until now. He actually looks a little proud when he says “glad I could be of assistance, Major.”

“So, that’s it?” asks Jack. He seems to have been slightly mollified by Stark’s genuine respect for Sam, but there’s still suspicion in his eyes and his voice. “You just want to learn? Do a book report?”

“Not just learn, Colonel,” is Tony’s quiet response. He looks at each of them in turn, putting the intended weight behind his words when he continues.

“I want to help.”

#marvel #stargate #iron man #tony stark #asks #small fics #my writing #writing wednesdays #cacklebarnacle

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