#sometimes I'll just be going about my life and I'll remember that tony is dead in the mcu | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thedamageofherdays · 3 years

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This week's (16-08-2021 - 22-08-2021) reading log is here. This week's reading log is super duper long and filled with lots of good things (my apologies for the long post, I really could not find a good spot to do a read more). I discovered some new favourites and re-read some old favourites and while I had an intense week personally at least the fics I read were absolutely phenomenal. I do recommend checking out the warnings as some fics are a bit heavier/angstier and you might wanna be prepared. Most of these fics are Stucky but there are a couple of other ships in between.

If you are looking for more fun and/or good things make sure to check out the @marveldisabilitycelebration as well to see all the awesome art, fics, meta, etcetera people created! And while I am mentioning events I am a mod for let me also just quickly mention that sign-ups for the @stuckygiftexchange are still open until the end of the month <3

Favourites are marked with a 🌻 Fics that are only available to AO3 users are marked with a 🔒 and Tumblr fics are marked with a 🍀

🌻 The Bends by dreamsinthewitchouse @dreamsinthewitchouse [Danbeau, side Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Memory is not a house you can just walk back into after finding the key you thought you’d lost. It’s a thing you wade into and out of, rewriting it as it rewrites you.

It’s not without its rewards, either - recovering a memory about Maria and Monica, about her life, feels better than socking a thousand bad guys in the face, better than all the photon blasts in the world.

Then again, realising there’s still memories she can’t access, even after all this time, feels like drowning in space.

Not the one out there - the one inside her.

🌻 Sweet & Salty by musette22 @musette22 [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Idiots in love. That's it. That's the fic.

When life gives you lemons by moonythejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 34k words, Explicit] (11/15 chapters)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

🍀 SamRhodey Tumblr Fic by ipoiledi [SamRhodey, ? words, Teen?]

“Wilson, this is Rhodey; Rhodey, Wilson,” Tony Stark says, and suddenly some six foot tall sexy guy is shoved right in front of Sam, and they both stumble a little, bumping into each other. This is a crowded party. “You guys have things in common, right?” Stark asks. “Uh, Army stuff. Talk about that. I hate wallflowers; stop wallflowering and talk to each other.”

Shorteralls by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 6k words, Explicit]

The first time Bucky ever saw Steve Rogers, he was struck by how Neanderthal-like his response was. It was immediately followed by a bout of mental scolding. The second time was just about the same. The third time, it was actually appropriate for Bucky to start a conversation with him, at which point he was determined to be the gentleman.

No such luck. Steve Rogers is, always has been and always will be, a relentless flirt. These days, Bucky's Neanderthal-ist feelings about Steve are consensual and highly appreciated. More so now that they're having a baby.

what the fuck are perfect places anyway by tigerlilycorinne [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Steve clears his throat and stands. “Well, I should head in. I might want to begin packing.”

Bucky stills. “You won’t,” he says, trying to sound commanding. It only comes out uncertain. “Don’t.”

Steve shakes his head. “Maybe not tonight,” he says, and Bucky knows they’ll be discussing this again soon.

“Then stay. Play… play cards with me or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows jump up, his mouth tugging up in another of his bemused smiles that do things to Bucky’s insides, but he drops his hand from the doorway and steps back into Bucky’s room. Somehow, Bucky feels as if he’s won—not the war, just the battle.

Steve won’t stay forever. But he’ll stay for cards.

Steve and Bucky, on the run after Civil War (with a few alterations to canon), are laying low in Wakanda. But they can’t stay there forever.

🌻 honestly thought i’d be dead by now, but what you can trust is that i need your touch by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 105k words, Explicit]

Bucky is 37 years old; he’s unmarried, hasn’t had a Sub of his own, is definitely not ripped, comfortable at his job as an Advanced Practice RN at Brooklyn General ER, and just got his Five Years coin from AA.

Steve is 26 years old; he’s unmarried, his last and only Dom has Alzheimer's, he's worryingly muscular, uncomfortable in his job as the government’s poster Alpha for masculinity and strength, and worries more than he should about his BMI.

Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky meet initially in a not-cute moment. Bucky’s tired as shit thanks to the sudden alien invasion that shook New York and Steve is tired as shit because he hasn’t slept more than 20 minutes at a time in – well, since 1936, probably. Bucky’s Alpha instincts get irritated at the sudden presence of another "Alpha" into his territory and Steve’s suppressed submissive tendencies latch onto this grumpy bachelor Alpha and he only suppresses it further.

Bucky’s grumpiness and Steve’s duckling impressionism aside, both of them are a mess. But since both of them are a mess? Their messes seem to fit pretty well together.

Deep Sea Diving by Aida Ronan [Stucky, 5k words, Explicit]

Steve's wallowing in heat-related misery under a shade tree in Central Park when a man walks by in bright red booty shorts and a crop top. RIP Steve Rogers. It was nice knowing you.

honey, make this easy by steebadore [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

Bucky likes the way he looks. His silk button up with the tiny gold polka dots feels soft on his skin and is tailored perfectly; no pulling at his chest or belly. His hair falls in shiny dark waves and his skin is smooth and dewy. He looks expensive. He looks taken care of. He looks like Steve’s.

🌻 let's take it back to the start by howdoyousleep @howdoyousleep3 [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

How it all began.

This sleepwalking through my life. by barthelme [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

The internet is an interesting place and when Bucky came home (or, when he came to live with Steve), Steve did a lot of research. Apparently, it’s not safe to wake a sleepwalker. He assumes that waking a sleepwalker with traumatic dreams and PTSD is beyond just being frowned upon.

And he tells himself--has told himself--that this is safer for Bucky. That if he were to stop him and wake him up, that Bucky would be mortified to be slurping on his best friend’s cock. That all of the improvements he’s made would be lost, would be repressed, would be just--

They’d be back at square one.

So he lets Bucky do it.

🌻 the way i've been craving by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

"Lunch break at 12:30. My office. Hope you’re hungry…"

It’s the ellipsis that sends Bucky’s insides swimming warmly, his heart beating twice as fast against his ribs where he sits in class. Senator Rogers is concise, direct, to the point. Without an ellipsis this is lunch, this is a meeting. With it though?

This is a booty call.

nasty but classy by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

“No, you don’t have to know the purpose, that doesn’t matter. Nat showed me this challenge where couples drink a lot of wine and get drunk together but they can’t touch each other. And whoever touches the other first has to...has to give the other head.”

🌻 Put It on Repeat, It Stays the Same by giselleslash [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Steve and Bucky have a one night stand that turns into a friends with benefits situation. A weekend snowed in at Bucky’s apartment brings to light how much that really doesn’t suit either one of them.

Greetings to the New Brunette by victoria_p (musesfool) [Stucky, 10k words, General]

"You said he should have a hobby. That it would help."

"I meant, like, knitting or coin collecting. Motocross, if he was feeling antsy. A baby's not a hobby. It's lifetime commitment."

🌻 Rogers & Barnes: Partners by triedunture [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky have to pose as a couple for a mission. Nat insists it really is the only option. She's checked.

The complication: unbeknownst to even Natasha, Steve and Bucky's friendship has been rocky ever since Bucky confessed his tender feelings and Steve left him out in the cold. Can asexual, completely-in-love-with-his-angry-best-friend Steve complete the mission and win Bucky's heart?

(The answer is yes. Yay!)

this will be our year (took a long time to come) by biblionerd07 [Stucky, 4k words, General]

Bucky's therapist is worried he's using Steve as a crutch and wants him to try going on outings without Steve. It wouldn't be terrible, honestly, if Bucky could just manage to open his mouth and say something to Steve.

I'll hold my breath by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) [Stucky, 8k words, Mature]

Sometimes Bucky’s hands flex in Steve's direction. Neither of them knows exactly why, but at least one of them has a hunch.

Bucky touches everything but Steve, even though Steve is all he really wants to touch.

Start from the Beginning by Mumble_Bee [Stucky, 13k words, Explicit]

What about a sex pollen fic where the pollen-ed one doesn’t remember getting hit in the face with a sex flower, and wakes up midway through the depollenating?

Or: the one where Steve wakes up on his back with a stranger buried balls-deep in his ass.

Match by emphasisonem [Stucky, 4k words, Mature]

The situation’s actually kind of funny from the right perspective, Bucky thinks as he reads the message for what feels like the hundredth time. He’s finally matched with a hot, funny guy. Tall and broad and clean cut. An absolutely breathtaking smile. Bucky’s walking wet dream. And he’s good. They haven’t messaged on the app, but Bucky already knows him.

He knows him because Steve Rogers is an art history professor at his university. His art history professor.

Best friends and married since childhood by StuckySituation [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Inspired by @/peterssquill's post in tumblr: "bucky and steve got married on the playground when they were like eight and though neither of them would ever admit it to anyone, even each other, they still consider it official"

~♥~ ♥~ ♥~

“Natasha, stop trying to set me up with every woman you meet, I’m-”

“Too shy? Too scared?”

“No, I’m-”

“Too busy? You’re mostly retired these days, not a good excuse anymore.” Natasha smirks and then drawls: “Or just too gay?”

Steve flushes at that, even if isn’t true -- he’s bisexual, not gay. “Let it go, Nat, I’m not looking for anything. I’m already married, for fuck’s sake.”

Clearly not what she expected. “What.”

Steve grimaces. He didn’t mean to tell anyone that, ever.

“Sorry, can’t talk about it right now!” he says and jumps out of the plane.

Nobody Should Be Alone on a Holiday by emphasisonem [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

“So, um-” Bucky begins speaking again, pulling Steve from his less-than-work-appropriate thoughts. The brunet has shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, and he’s shifting from one foot to the other as he smiles shyly. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” Steve grins, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his broad chest. Bucky swallows deeply as one of his hands comes up to pull at the collar of his button-up, and Steve can’t help following the motion of his Adam’s apple.

“I was, uh-” Bucky continues- “That is, I heard you don’t have Thanksgiving plans?”

In which Bucky finds out that Steve's going to be alone on Thanksgiving and invites his coworker to spend the holiday with him.

🌻 It's Been A Long Season Through by thiccbuckybarnes @thiccbuckybarnesfic [Stucky, 49k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes is in desperate need of a change in scenery, which is why he makes the foolhardy decision to quit his job, leave his asshole of a fiance, pack up his life, and move to his grandfather’s old farm all within a single day.

He expects confusion, hardship, and maybe even failure. But love? He wasn’t expecting that.

Or, a Stucky Stardew Valley AU that nobody but me wanted and that’s ok.

oh, peach pit, where'd the hours go? by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 10k words, Explicit]

Can't see the forest for the trees.

Or, Steve learns that just because he and Bucky got their happily ever after, it doesn’t mean the past won’t come back to bite them.

I'll find my way by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 725 words, Teen]

Steve had watched Bucky fall, and nothing had been the same since.

AU-gust day 19: Daemons

special delivery by glim @glim [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

It's not that Steve's bad at taking care of himself when he gets sick; he just wishes he didn't have to all the time.

At least he can order most of what he needs online. That's some small comfort, that he can have soup and ice cream and everything else brought to his door.

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

🌻 Rock On! by millesable @marvelousescapism [Clintasha, 700 words, General]

“Hey, Romanoff!”

He lifted his hand, index finger and pinky finger raised, thumb out, all other fingers tucked. Their secret sign; their confession for the world to see, safe in the knowledge that the world wasn’t listening.

“Rock on!”

🌻 You Like the Way I Look by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

Bucky sidles up to him, hand boldly coming to rest on his chest. “What about you, big guy? Care for a dance?” Steve watches Bucky’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction, somehow already knowing he’s got Steve on the hook.

A decade out of the ice, Steve Rogers returns to New York. Reeling from a battle against the Chitauri, a night with the troublesome Bucky Barnes might be just what he needs.

Join the Rebellion by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 765 words, Teen]

Bucky knew he shouldn't be out after curfew, but he couldn't resist the urge. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew it was where he wanted to be.

AU-gust day 20: Dystopia

🔒 Five Days in December by mywingsareonwheels @mywingsareonwheels [Evanstan, 4k words, Teen]

“Shit shit shit shit...” muttered Chris to himself, glad that the sound of piped Christmas carols was drowning out his swearing amid the picture books. Most of the store was heaving even though it was Sunday, he’d been recognised at least three times, finding presents for all of his nieces and nephews was proving far more of a headache than expected, and he’d just sent a pile of copies of "Strictly No Elephants" tumbling off the bookshelf.

He scrambled about trying to pick them all up, and then dropped them again as someone bumped right into his backside. He lost his balance, caught himself against a bookcase, and a landslide of "Carter Is a Painter’s Cat" joined "Strictly No Elephants" on the floor. He yelped.

“Ah fuck, I’m so sorry… Chris!”

* * * * * * * * * *

London, December 2021. Amid cats, books, and the cold English drizzle, Chris finds everything he was hoping for and thought he would never have.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Reaching for Fire by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit]

Bucky has always felt a fire in his heart (and other body parts) when it came to his boss, Steve Rogers, but he's made sure to never feed those flames. When he finds out about Steve's second job, though, he's tempted to let that fire out.

i've been dreaming of a face like yours by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

Bucky is about to busy himself with making a small dinner for himself when he stops in his tracks at the figure drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and smirking at him.

It’s Steve.

“Surprise, sweet boy,” he says before setting his cup down.

Or, PWP reunion sex

🌻 Somewhere, Under Your Skin by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 16k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes treats himself to a one-night stand after having a very bad no good day.

The sex is good--great, even. Might be the best sex of his life.

But Bucky wouldn’t have slept with the guy if he had known that he was going to continuously run into him every day for the next fucking month.

Or, a Big Grump Bucky has a hot one night stand with a college kid who is popping up everywhere in his everyday life and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

(Written for HYBB Bingo Square: Grumpy Bucky)

i've played heartstrings before but not in your key by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 11k words, Explicit]

He glances down, seeing a folded couple of papers, before peering up at Bucky. The older man is biting his bottom lip, making it pretty and red. Steve wants to run his tongue across where his teeth are digging into his flesh.

"What's this?" Steve asks, setting his phone down, emails forgotten. Bucky shrugs and looks away.

"I dunno. You tell me, genius," he says, sounding bratty enough that it makes Steve's dick twitch in his pants. Jesus, there has to be something wrong with him.

Steve glances once more at Bucky, who now has his arms crossed against his chest and is pointedly not looking at Steve, before picking up the stack of folded papers. He opens them, seeing a collection of maybe five or six sheets of paper. His eyes immediately land on the list of familiar words with negative next to each one. -- Or, Steve Rogers is a jealous, possessive little shit that wants nothing more than to mark up his boyfriend and stake his claim. And Bucky knows it. (And he likes it.)

🌻 I'm Home (With You) by BonkyBornes @padfoot-and-the-marauders [Stucky, 2k words, General]

In any other circumstance, the apartment would've been perfect. But it was today, and the fact that he was here meant he wasn’t out searching. He knew they hadn’t had any leads for weeks and he knew Natasha was right; all three of them were exhausted and a break would do them good. It just felt wrong to Steve that he was comfortable while Bucky was still out there—somewhere. Probably cold. Probably hungry.

The knock came again. Sighing, Steve unwrapped his hand from the dog tags and remembered how to move. Cold wind and snow greeted him when he opened the door. The solitary figure was walking down the steps, collar popped against the chill.

“Did you need something?” he called.

The person stopped. They were still. And then they turned. *

Or, the Christmas Steve deserved after Winter Soldier.

The portrait by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 915 words, General]

Steve Rogers has a Gift. He can help people find their soulmates, all he needs is some art supplies, a quiet place, and eye contact.

AU-gust day 21: soulmates

Maybe A Muse by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 2k words, Mature]

When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude.

#my reading log #r's reading log #fic rec #stucky fic rec #fics recs #stucky #danbeau #samrhodey #longpost #long post #clintasha #evanstan

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

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masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq

Introductory prologue. The main pairing will be established ironstrange x reader. This story will be rated explicit, have some canon-typical violence and language. The 'fuck' harvest is bountiful this time of the year. Updates - irregular so far, I'm posting it as I go.

No y/n, no "you", no name - nickname only, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns. Please leave a comment if you spot a stray 'blushing' or the likes, I write as it flows and sometimes miss those words when I proofread. I try to be inclusive of all my readers.

"Your total is twelve dollars, seventeen cents," I rattled off on autopilot, casting a glance at the cash register and plastering an automatic smile onto my face. The pleasant expression was frozen on it, stuck like glue, despite the news I had received earlier in the day. "Thank you, have a nice day," I doubted the customer actually heard my words.

One of those business-types, wearing a tailored two-piece, with a Bluetooth headset attached to their ear and brain always a mile away, our little coffee shop a mild interruption in their daily routine of making more and more money. "Hello, how can I help you?" I addressed the next customer, my eyes unseeing, gliding over their face and to the storefront where I noticed we were running low on eclairs and carrot cake.

"Hey, Starlight," the woman's voice was familiar, tone soothing, as I snapped my eyes to meet a pair of reddish-brown ones, staring at me with concern. "The usual," our city's very own superhero; Wanda Maximoff stood before me with her head curiously tilted to the side and her brother hovering behind her, examining the assortment of various cakes on display. "Long day?"

"You have no idea," I sighed, sending off the organic, single-use cups with scribbles off to Dave, our barista. Wanda's order was large, usually about ten or twelve coffees and quite a few treats, so I donned on some nitrile gloves to package the treats while Dave handled the drinks with practiced ease. I admired his stoicism. "Might be seeing a bit less of me," the woman's eyebrows rose in displeasure at my admission.

"Tony won't be happy," Wanda mumbled, side-eyeing the backdoor behind which my boss usually resided during the day. "You got fired?" The words attracted the attention of her brother. Pietro was immediately at her side, joining into the concerned staring.

"Nope," I popped the 'p', methodically shoving the food in its packaging. "The café is expanding hours and our shifts are being split now. Jeremy is dead set on me working the graveyard shift, so I'll be here six AM to two PM," I couldn't help the sigh that left my lips.

My boss, Jeremy, had opened his boulangerie little over two years ago, and as he had predicted, it set off almost immediately. The place was located almost in the heart of the dozen corporate sky-rises full of busy, wealthy people who liked their things to be both instant and luxurious. Jeremy had fit right in with the law sharks and business vultures, if you ask me, with his penchant for demanding the impossible.

I was expecting an increase in work hours, I wasn't going to lie - our little cafe was busy nearly all the time it was open - but the fact that he chose to split a day's shift came as a punch to the gut. Like most service staff, I made most of my money from the tips, and they and they only were the only reason I stayed in a place with a shrew for a boss and the worst health insurance in the area. Thankfully, the rich businessmen from local offices didn't count their money and left me more than generous tips.

The coffee machine beeped for the last time as Dave passed me the three cupholders before I carefully bagged them, arranging the treats on top. I saw Wanda lick her lips at the aromas coming from the paper bag before Pietro snatched them out of my grasp. I rattled off the total, catching Wanda's eye as she passed me several twenty dollar bills, waving off my attempt to return the change.

"Penny for your wandering thoughts?" She smiled warmly as I chuckled at the question I've grown to expect with a quiet sort of joy.

The first time she'd wandered in, soaking wet from the rain and looking as lost as a child in a mall, ten minutes before closing time, I was reading my book right at the counter as I waited for the coffee machine to clean itself. I hadn't even noticed the quiet woman until her words startled me out of the book-induced trance and I shamefully had to ask her to repeat herself, hastily shoving my book under the counter. She smiled at me, shyly, and asked me about my reading instead of rattling an order for one of the sickly sweet caffeine concoctions female customers seemed to love. And she returned in a few days, asking the same question after taking a careful look at my face.

"And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about." I took a careful moment to recall a paragraph from the book I was currently reading, Murakami's 'Kafka on the Shore'. It seemed fitting, with all that had been going on in my life recently. I was still caught in the middle of the storm, unsure if I'd make it out but hoping for it nonetheless.

"That's beautiful," Pietro smiled at me, the tips of his silver hair reflecting the lights of the cafe's baroque style chandeliers. I barely managed to smile at him as he was already speeding off, the entrance door banging shut behind a blur of white and blue. Each time he did that, I couldn't help but wonder how he managed to not spill any of the hot beverages.

"Because it's true," Wanda added with a comforting smile. I nodded in agreement, hoping some of her positive attitude would dissipate the sense of doom I'd been lugging around all day. She departed, taking the sense of comfort with her, as I caught the tail end of something shouted in Sokovian - something that sounded exactly in place, coming from one disgruntled sibling to another.

When the residents of the nearby Stark tower began frequenting my workplace, I barely had the composure to stifle my quiet fangirling to socially acceptable levels. Not long after the Scarlet Witch turned a semi-regular, she started bringing her colleagues with her - Hawkeye at first, who was a decent, normal dude; he looked like an exasperated dad and Pietro appeared every thing the rambunctious son, as the younger man peppered the older man with questions about the cakes on our display.

They all had fancy names, but at the bottom of it, a chocolate cake was a chocolate cake. That much I told them, with a snort, earning myself a lopsided grin and a generous tip as I patiently listed off the more commonly used, simplified designations for the twins as the knowledge of them being European immigrants crossed my mind.

After Hawkeye came the Black Widow, and then Captain America with a sunny smile and his moody boyfriend in tow. While Bucky Barnes' expression was generally sour, the man had a wicked sweet tooth, shoveling frosted, glazed treats at the rate of a competitive eater. Both men were extremely polite if not very chatty and tipped well.

Tony Stark himself - well, he was a special one. His sense of humour trailed on the fine line of obscene, oftentimes raising the eyebrows of nearby people standing in line. I wasn't born yesterday, either: years of customer service work left me with little-to-no surprise regarding overzealous men and I could quip back equally as sharply, just slightly south of Tony's own jokes. He never overstepped, however, and with time, I developed a quiet appreciation for our small talks.

Which did brighten up my day, if only a little. "A little birdy told me your boss is being a douchebag. Want me to clean up that muck?" Tony was, as usual, wearing a bespoke suit and sunglasses, which he'd pushed up to his forehead as he frivolously leaned on the counter after placing his order.

I sighed, remembering Wanda's words. I didn't know what to expect from the eccentric billionaire; last of all, I didn't want any handouts. I'd started a search for a second part-time job the very day I got told my pay would be essentially cut in half. "No need, Mr. Stark, I'm gonna be fine and dandy," I replied with a smile that I was sure didn't really reach my eyes. "We'll still be able to resume our nice chit-chat at brunch on Saturdays," I winked, hoping to keep up the usual light atmosphere of our banter.

"I told you to call me Tony!" He exclaimed, like always, shaking his head and glaring at the back door. "Yeah, no," the man had absolutely no chill. "I'll still sic the IRS on him," the last part was said quietly. Mr. Stark often spoke to himself.

I laughed at the rich-kid, spoilt way he was acting. A grown man with an attitude of a teenager and a sweet tooth to match one - except for his coffee. That was always the strongest, blackest one we had on hand. I hadn't even heard of a triple espresso until Mr. Stark had waltzed in, skipping the line and filling the air around him with the smells of cologne that smelled like money, motor oil, iron and soot.

The moment I opened my e-mail at home, I felt my gloomy mood worsen, Mr. Stark's words echoing in my head. I'd sent my resumes to two dozen places and only a handful even bothered to reply - all preemptive rejections, there weren't businesses needing a part-time employee with a useless degree, who could only work evenings. Except bars, but they required some sort of certificate for bartenders and lots and lots of bare skin for waitresses. I tried to steer away from that part of the industry as much as I could, saving it as a last resort option.

It had come down to browsing Craigslist as I ate my way through a carton of cheap take-out, too exhausted to cook and too anxious to go out to the nearby bodega after 9 PM. One more negative side of working late shift - making my way home in the dead of the night in NYC and hoping Spider-Man was hanging out nearby should a thug decide on me to be their next victim. The joys of big city life.

As the column of various ads stared at me with various suspicious offers to make quick money, ads for 'young, sociable women' and I stared back at them in muted disgust. The 'looking for a job' section was much more sensible with the few ads I'd clicked on out of curiosity depicting people seemingly in a similar situation as me - short on money but not desperate enough to surrender their dignity to corporate greed. The decision was momentary - I'd started typing and hit the post button before I was through with my food, slapping my old laptop shut as soon as the as posted.

Hopefully, the creeps will stay away. The next couple of days stretched out slowly as I got up at the crack of dawn to open the shop, served the early birds whilst sipping my own matcha latte and clocked out not a second later than 2PM, taking home half the usual amount of tips. My e-mail remained as silent as ever, only a few suspicious replies to my ad, texts that I didn't even bother replying to. Human trafficking and pyramid schemes, was that all that NYC had to offer?

Apparently, not. Around 6PM, my phone dinged as a notification popped up and I scrambled to read it - all too aware of the upcoming rent day, and was pleasantly surprised with the contents of the e-mail, re-reading it several times to make sure there weren't any hidden stones under the water. I replied with my phone number, not expecting it to ring within minutes of hitting the send button.

"Hello?"

"Hi, we just corresponded," the voice on the other side was feminine but slightly rough, as if it's owner spent days chain-smoking. "I would like to invite you for a small interview, if you wouldn't mind."

I chewed on my lip in contemplation. "Could I ask you some questions first?" The levels of anxiety, I thought, were reasonable in the situation. It mutely gnawed at my chest.

"Sure," the woman agreed amicably. "My name is Odette, by the way," she mentioned off-handedly, the name fitting her voice in a strange way.

"Uh, well," I stammered. "You mentioned it's a herbal medicine shop, you're not selling weed under the counter, are you?" I voiced my worries meekly, hoping for an honest answer.

The woman laughed, a sharp, terse sound. "No, dear, I do not sell or possess anything illegal. I merely offer supplies for the locals that prefer natural, alternative medicine." She sounded jovial.

"Like - um, healing crystals?" I vaguely remembered reading about them on the internet, or seeing them in a YouTube video, perhaps.

"Yes, we sell those, too," her tone grew more joyful at the mention of the shiny rocks. I didn't think that they actually cured anything, to be honest, however I was willing to give it some credit - the placebo effect was a scientific fact. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.

"Okay then," I chuckled nervously. "I'm free tomorrow after 3 PM."

"Grand. The shop is open until 10 PM, just say your name at the counter and I'll be right with you."

As soon as I hung up, relief and curiosity and trepidation blossomed within me, imagination unhelpfully supplying images of human trafficking documentaries, basements with chains and other, less horrifying but still unusual things. The pep talk over a wine glass that I had was necessary: it was a herbal shop, for fuck's sake. Worst case, I'm going to work with Karens who think the Earth is flat and quartz cures cancer. I could even get a funny story or two out of those, something to share with Bucky or Wanda in lieu of the usual book quotes I entertain them with.

The day went by smoothly, the café no more and no less busy than usual so after a brief detour back home to put on something that didn't smell like coffee grounds and yeast: comfortable pants and a soft sweater, something that would keep me warm but would not unnecessarily restrict any movement. My good luck charm, a large oval necklace with a shiny gold star in the middle, hung heavily around my neck, providing quiet comfort.

Heart thudding in my chest, I approached the old-style, inconspicuous building, double-checking the address before opening the old, heavy wooden door right at the corner of the building. It was like a movie scene, in a way - the day was overcast, meager sun rays shining through the lead curtain of clouds, the streets were clear and few honks rung out in the far end of block, sending a flock of pigeons into a lazy scatter over the slanted roof. The door creaked softly, the handle cold under my touch, instantly filling my nose with a strong smell of herbs so plentiful, I could not distinguish one from another.

Inside didn't look any less intriguing: the décor was outdated but somehow fitting and homely, high wooden shelves stocked with glass jars and wooden boxes with neatly placed labels on them. The counter was empty - save for a large, golden bell, which I timidly pressed.

The woman who emerged from behind the worn cotton curtains behind the counter most certainly was impressive. Tall and broad, with dark eyebrows and even darker eyes, she critically surveyed me for a moment, making me shiver under her gaze - and then she smiled, revealing rows of pearly white teeth and instantaneously losing the imposing aura around her.

"Um, hi- I'm-" I didn't get to finish my nervous stammering.

She interrupted me with a careless wave of her hand. "Here for the interview. Yes. Welcome, Star," her eyes briefly fell on my necklace while I struggled to swallow the unease.

I hadn't told her my nickname - to be honest, these days, I heard it more often than my given name. People quickly took notice of my love of star-patterned items and teased me relentlessly over it, losing heat only when I calmly went along with it, too used to hearing the same jokes since my early childhood.

Odette motioned me over, parting the curtains to reveal a tiny, but tastefully decorated hall with two doors on each side and a staircase at the far end of it. I followed her into the room on the left, which turned out to be a peculiar sort of office. I thought I noticed an Ouija board in there but wisely kept my mouth shut.

"I live on the floor above the shop so don't go throwing any parties while you're on the job," she remarked playfully, gesturing to a pot of tea. "It's peppermint, does wonders for calming one's demeanor," the gesture was sweet - and very telling.

I wondered if I looked as spooked as I felt. After all, it didn't seem like Odette and her business were fishy in any way, and the décor and atmosphere were quite... Appealing, in a way. Something magical, something belonging in Europe or on a high schooler's Pinterest board. I sipped my tea in-between questions, thinking how maybe, I could actually grow accustomed to this place.

The shopkeeper acted as if I'd already accepted the job and I - well, it's not like I had any other options waiting for me. The pay was more than I expected it to be, for such a small bodega and a part-time shift, and it would help me cover my bills with enough to spare. The customers were said to be mostly regular and undemanding, with a few rare exceptions, and should I need assistance, the owner was always a call and a floor away.

With a considerably lighter heart, I left to pad the damp sidewalk back towards my house. Thankfully, my new workplace was only a short walk away.

The tag list is open until the story is finished. Please use the 'taglist' Google form to request (top of the fic, clickable link).

@mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites

#bun writes #practical alchemy #ironstrange x reader #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x reader #tony stark fanfiction #stephen strange fanfiction

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thatonecitykid · 4 years

Text

I bet on Losing

Hey everyone! Sorry this is so sad.. was already crying so might as well make everyone else cry.This takes place after Endgame but during the same time as Far From Home. Listen to "I Bet on Losing Dogs" by Mitski for the full experience. Word Count: 2517. Have fun angels :)

Peter had finally left for his class trip, Pepper and Morgan had gone to spend their summer in Malibu, the remaining avengers were either in space or had completely disappeared from your life. Here you were after five years of your life had evaporated, and after all this time you had to play your fathers role for all the remaining avengers. You hadn't had the opportunity to cry when you first learned about what had happened. You couldn't cry at the funeral, not because you did not want to, but because you felt as if your father wouldn't want to see it. No one wanted to leave you alone, but after months of trying to dig some type of emotion out of you they had assumed that the death and slow disappearance of your makeshift avenger family had unaffected you.

You finally had the opportunity to exist alone. You had also finally mustered up the strength to visit secluded cabin your father had lived in for the last five years of his life. Although you had been given the keys immediately after the funeral, something about visiting the area made you feel uneasy. Not necessarily creeped out but just as if you did not belong, after all it was something your father invested in after you had already blipped away for several months.

You drove up to the cabin alone, slowly unlocking the door as if to not start or whoever may be inside. Before even entering the cabin, it looks clean, you assume that Pepper has had people cleaning constantly to maintain the cabin. It made sense, it was something she's cherished. You stepped into the cabin slowly and began to look around. The walls were lined with framed pictures of Morgan, family pictures of Pepper, your dad, and Morgan, and random posters and vintage albums. Although you were not the one to complain about it, having no evidence of your existence in the main areas of the home caused your heart dropped. As you wandered through the kitchen and the main family room, there is no evidence of Tony's life prior to the blip, just a somewhat normal family of three.

You decide to wander to the basement area, leaving the office and bedroom spaces upstairs for later. There was a large sitting area that you assumed they watched movies in. There was also a playroom painted pink featuring all sorts of gadgets very similar to those you grew up with that Tony had made for you. Towards the back hall of the basement, it was a glass door to your father's workshop area. You open the door gently and made your way in.

Despite looking like somewhat of a mess, you knew that behind the madness there was a method. You could tell that although your dad left in a hurry, things were placed in specific spots very similarly to how he did in every other one of his workshops. You walked towards his swiveling chair, noticing a metal box with a button on the worktable. You press the button and jump back as a life-size hologram of your father appeared in the room. He began

"Hi Pepper. My love, my muse, my boss. If you are listening to this then I did the one thing you have always told me not to do. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the worry I've put you through, and I am sorry for taking myself away from you. I was a gift wasn't I. You've already seen another version of this message, but it never hurts to see your face again my darling."

The tears in your eyes begin to form, not because you had not expected to see your father. At this point you had already seen the message he had left after the funeral; It was only really meant for Pepper and Morgan, never addressing you.. At the funeral you refused to enter the cabin but as you watched the message while standing outside, Happy looked over at you with remorse but you kept a straight face again. Who were you to complain at your dead dad's funeral? Yet this message radiated the same energy.

As the second portion of the message began to play tears began to fall faster. It almost feels like an out of body, sure your dad had taken up different kids during your time growing up, but this message made you feel as If you had been completely replaced. Although it felt like a dumb theory there was no evidence as to your existence prior to Morgan.

"Hello my little scientist. How's my favorite person. Daddy is really sorry I can't be there right now. Be a trooper and hug you mom for me real quick. Now you must be surprised because I'm supposed to be the strongest dad in the world but let me tell you kid, sometimes crazy things happen when put on the ironman helmet. My little minion I love you 3000. My love for you is infinite. You have been and will forever be daddy's best friend."

Here you were crying over a child who had also lost her father, filled with jealousy over the fact that you father had chosen her and failed to consider your return but had prepared for Peter's return, still had projects waiting for Harley, and had in fact set up a stable plan for Morgan's future. At this point you were sobbing, what had all felt like a bad nightmare and jumping to conclusions had started to feel way too real. This emotion was even stronger than when you watched footage from your father suit as the snap happened, this emotion felt like a stab in the back.

Maybe he never loved me.

You tried to collect yourself but were still sobbing when the holographic figure of you father disappeared. You might as well finish the house tour before leaving. The upstairs portion of the house featured Tony and Pepper's room, Morgan's room and two other doors. The main bedroom was tidy and organized, with a closet full of clothes that both Pepper and your dad had left. You walked into Morgan's room and did a quick look around, not wanting to invade child space. Returning to the hallway you opened the door to your father's office. Inside there was a rather simple with a desk, a leather chair, and two matching chairs. The plants in the room were growing well, meaning someone still came to water them. There were a few pictures on the wall, including Peter's Stark internship picture, and a random picture you took of the original Avengers after their first New York battle. On the desk there was another metal box similar to that in the workpace. You argued whether or not you wanted to potentially break your heart more before giving in, siting in the leather seat and pressing the button.

A slim beam of light scanned over your face, confirming your identity, and the box began to play. To say you were shocked is an understatement, as your father's hologram appeared across the desk sitting in one of the matching chairs.

"Hello Munchkin. If you've found this box, then I just going to have to accept that I've failed you. You've been gone for five years and regret every moment leading up to when you snapped away. You really did want to come to space with me, and honestly you would have been helpful, but I don't think I could see you Blip away and have the will to continue. That being said because I am already admitting I was wrong, I should not have had your suit take you to the bunker room, where you eventually snapped away alone. I regret that decision y constantly. On another note, I'm sorry I didn't hug you as soon as you got back, I clearly I cannot really hug anyone."

You had finally given up on holding in their tears. You didn't have to be strong in front of your dad. He had always held you when you cried and this time he couldn't. You tried to wrap your arms around yourself, but nothing felt the same.

"I hope you are crying, because if I'm crying alone during this part, I'll be embarrassed, his image continued as it stood up and leaned against the back of the chair. Munch I know you've probably walked around this house and have found no evidence of yourself. You've probably beat yourself up about how much I love Morgan, but think about it. The amount of time I've spent these last 5 years essentially idolizing you would not have been good for her to experience. "

You rose quickly from the chair. Not even one damn picture?

"Now I know you're wondering not even a single picture. Pick up the projector box and follow me ."

You did as the digital version of your father told you and followed it back into the hallway.

"Put the box down and put your hand on the center of the door. "

This activated a scanner which opened up the door to the room. As you walked in you recognized that this was an exact replica of your room back in the Malibu house. You were still a kid when the original house was blown to pieces but somehow everything was exactly as you remembered it. As you walked further into the room you noticed the large screens, placed like picture frames, which played videos and pictures of you and your dad throughout the years.

Your father walked towards the center of the room, bounded by how far the projector was.

"You see kid, me and you have somewhat the same grieving styles. I have a feeling you didn't cry at the funeral. I have a feeling you haven't cried, at least in a way that someone else could have noticed. You take after me in that sense."

The hologram started to sniffle, your dad had actually started crying when recording this. You really wanted to hug him, the reality of his death hurt even more. You had finally allowed yourself to start grieving.

"Look, I know you used to listen to the song about betting on losing dogs when you wanted to cry, but that does not apply to you at all. You may have gotten a more complicated stick of life, but I can tell ya, this does not need to be your villain origin story. From the first day I took you home I could tell you were a fighter, but I need you to feel as if its ok to cry. I've spent hours on this floor in shambles wishing you were here. The small things that Morgan does that remind me of you throw me into sadness pools constantly. You are my motivating force. I really hope you allow yourself to cry about it so that you can continue in life. I don't think I can stand in this room for any longer before I cannot speak at all, so please take the projector back to my office. "

As you lifted the projector you thought about how much this must have hurt your father to record. Maybe he didn't want anyone to encounter this box except for you. As you placed the box on the desk, you sat back into the leather chair as your father's holograph sat across from you.

"On a different note, you are probably wondering why I seemed to set up a game plan for everyone but you. With Morgan I just made sure she had a comfortable, who am I kidding, lavish funding behind her. I can't dictate what a five-year-old should do. For Harley you know that I've always looked out for him, a position in Stark industries honestly should not have surprised you. Peter is what I feel most conflicted about. I'm not setting him up to become the next Ironman, I'm setting him up to become the greatest version of Spiderman he can be. Well, I know the media is probably going to take it and run having known that Spiderman and Ironman we're friends at some point, but I'm really giving you the biggest responsibility. I don't expect you to live in my shadow, I want you to outgrow it. I think you might be surprised to see everything that I left you, besides Stark industries itself. That's a conversation for another day."

"I know I've been speaking for quite a while, but my baby, my baby yes I called you that. I know how much this has all affected you, and I'm sorry, I am completely sorry and do take full fault for it all. But now because we cannot change the past, let's focus on the present. I want you to know that I loved you with my entire being. I'm not sure how to emphasize this enough but I do want you to know you were cared for, you were loved, and you were thought about for every minute. If you don't get to see this message, and I'm already gone, that means this message will never have to play for anyone. Either I found you and I've given you a new message, or I'm rolling in my grave. Either way my darling I cannot emphasize how much I love you. I do hope for the best for. Before I have to go, I want to see you smile. Sure, I can't physically see it right now, but I can imagine it."

As the recording choked out that last sentence, you flashed a weak smile. A face sticky with all the tears that you have been crying.

Now I know you need to get back home, but when you get back to the city, stop by the shawarma place and get something to eat. you gotta eat Darling. Also don't act like you don't like Peter, you two idiots keep pushing each other away in cannot take it. Now I'm gonna say goodbye mini me. Watch over Pepper and Morgan for me, okay? I love you."

You took one final sweep of the house before heading back to your car. You had cried so much that your eyes physical hurt. You almost felt a sense of comfort having finally released some of the pent-up emotion. As you drove towards the city and towards the Shawarma place you almost felt kind of sad, knowing that all of your friends were in a foreign country. Yet you still felt as if your best friend, your Dad was watching over you. And in all reality that felt as if it was the only thing that mattered.

#stark reader #stark!reader #irondad #tony stark x reader #peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader

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justanotherfanfic · 4 years

Text

Talking to the Moon

summary: steve and reader are not in a good relationship right now and the recent mission did not help that out. arguments have started and insults have been thrown... steve and reader gain reassurance from fellow teammates

pairings: mentor!steve rogers x reader & platonic!peter parker x reader

word count: 3k+

warnings: none?

author’s note: hey y’all! it’s been ages, i know, but i’m back! it’s been intense lately but i’ve been trying to bring myself to upload again.

THE JET REMAINED silent as your leg bobbled around. You tried your best to ignore the glare coming from your mentor, Steve. You decided that it would be best to distract yourself by adjusting the equipment strapped to your thigh. A moment passed before you looked up and accidentally made eye contact with Peter. You looked away before he could react. You and Peter never really talked, but you could still feel his judgement whenever you messed up during a mission. A sigh came out of your mouth as the tension grew. You can feel eyes from the other team mates as they tried to make sure Steve did not start an argument.

After what felt like an eternity, the jet finally began descending into the Avengers Headquarters. As the hanger began opening up, you immediately got out of your seat and made your way down the ramp. A few agents were ready to greet the team for updates and medical inspections. Out of the whole team, Steve needed the most attention but he only brushed them off, much to the medics protests.

You, on the other hand, only had a minor cut on your chin. You looked over to the side and noticed how Nat and Wanda were discussing the updates with high ranking agents while Bucky and Sam listen intently from the side. It didn't take long before they all began walking towards the building. You flinched when the alcohol made contact with your cut, the medic apologized before continuing.

You shifted your attention to Tony and Peter who were quietly talking to one another. You can see Tony's concern in his tired eyes, he truly cared for Peter as his own son whether he would admit it or not. Before you looked away, you saw Tony pulled Peter in for a hug.

"You're good to go," the medic nodded as they began cleaning up their mess.

You thanked them then made your way into the building. Hundreds of agents were maneuvering around you as they tried to finish their own objectives.

It did not take long before you heard heavy footsteps following you. You felt chills running down your spine as you tried to make your way into the common area.

After a few moments, you were face to face with the elevator. You walked in and swiftly turned your heels. You mentally screamed in annoyance when you saw Steve walked in as well. You pressed the button that would take you to the common room.

The elevator door closed and a bright laser immediately scanned you and Steve. It was a daily task; since you were going into the Avengers' personal area, FRIDAY is required to scan all individuals for clearance. Basically, the Avengers, Fury, and Coulson are the only ones allowed in.

"C-0418, cleared. Y-0402 cleared." FRIDAY's voice announced.

Suddenly the elevator began moving and a soft hum was heard from the machine. The ride was painfully silent for a good minute. Although the tension was thick, you were glad Steve had the common decency to wait to talk to you until you made it to-

"[Y/N]," Steve began before you sighed loudly.

"Steve, I really don't want to talk right now..."

A scoff came out of his mouth, "You're joking, right?"

You turned your attention to the wall and remained silent. Your fear in the jet turned into anger when you remembered what truly happened at the mission.

Before you could say a word, the elevator began slowing down into a complete stop. A ding rang before the doors opened.

You were the first to get out and make your way to the media room. You were about to grab the TV remote before you heard Steve behind you.

"Go to your room," Steve stated.

You scoffed and turned your attention to him, "I'm not a kid."

"You're sure acting like one." Steve fired back. "Once you're ready to act like an Avenger than I'll treat you like one."

"What did I even do?!" You shouted as you noticed Tony and Peter coming around the corner.

"You put yours and Peter's life in danger!" Steve shouted. "How many times do I have to tell you how deadly Hydra is?! You were selfish and ran straight into the fight when I told you to stay put!"

"I was trying to save your life!" You defended. "If it wasn't for me you would've been dead!"

"I don't care!" Steve shouted back.

"Are you serious right now?!" You shouted. You felt your hands shake. "You are so ungrateful!"

Steve snapped, "You see what I mean?! That attitude will get you no where!"

"Fine! If you hate me so much I'll just quit!" You spoke in anger. You felt your blood boiling at how Steve couldn't see your intentions. You were trying to save your mentor's life and he was yelling at you for it. Yes, you made a mistake but you were willing to save the team and risk your life for it.

"Great! I'll finally stop wasting my time on you!" Steve responded back as his eyes darkened.

Tony and Peter widened their eyes at Steve's response. They couldn't believe what came out of his mouth as you stared in disbelief. Your face softened at his response. You took a step back and felt tears pooling around your eyes.

Without another word, you turned around and started speed walking towards your room. You wiped your tears that finally fell the moment you lost eye contact with your mentor, or ex-mentor at this point.

Tony and Peter noticed your state and looked at each other. Tony motioned for Peter to follow you as Tony started talking to Steve.

You couldn't believe it. No matter what you did, Steve was always breathing down your neck and finding something to complain about. You really thought that being an Avenger would have been different. Of course there would be moments where things got intense, but this was too much.

You felt your lips trembled as you continued down the dimly lit hallway. Your footsteps echoed off of the wall as you tried to calm yourself down.

Take a deep breath.

You repeated the phrase to yourself as you walked up to your bedroom door. Your tears blurred your vision as you entered your room. You silently shut the door and pressed your forehead onto the frame.

All the emotions that you were holding back were now brought up to the surface. You silently cried as you moved away from the door and made your way to your balcony. You wiped your tears and started to climb over the railing and make your way to the roof top that was hanging over your balcony.

Once there, you closed your eyes and tried to focus on the noise coming from the city. A few secondes passed, your body soon began to relax. It had worked before you remembered why you were upset in the first place. You sniffed before staring at the night sky above you.

You dazed at the moon. You admired the way it was perfect, how it was able to cast a ray of light that illuminated the city beautifully. You felt your eyes pooling with tears once again causing you to close them. The tears trailed down your cheek

"What am I doing wrong?" You whispered to yourself.

"Nothing, honestly." A voice spoke.

You immediately whipped out your knife, ready to attack the intruder. Your eyes adjusted to the fearful Peter Parker. His hands were up in surrender, not sure what to do.

You sighed and put your hands down and turned your attention back to the stars.

It was silent for a few moments before Peter spoke, "Who were you talking to?"

You never really spoke to Peter so it was odd having him sitting with you as you allowed yourself to become vulnerable with him. You didn't understand why, but you didn't hate the idea. It was different, but you were glad someone actually cared.

You cleared your throat once you realized Peter was staring at you and waiting for a response, "Umm... I always talked to the moon whenever I feel upset," You whispered.

"Oh," Peter nodded. "That's cool."

You didn't respond as you stared at the moon once again. You allowed the silence to consume the two of you.

"She's not one of your soldiers Steve!" You both heard in the distance. "She's a kid!"

You turned your attention to your hands, tears starting to form again.

"Hey," Peter whispered. You glanced up at him. His heart broke seeing your eyes desperate for comfort. "Don't listen to them."

"How could I not?" You sighed as you wiped your tears away. "Didn't you hear a moment ago? I'm a disappointment. Steve wants me gone."

Peter shook his head, "You know that's not true."

It was your turn to shake your head, "Yes it's true."

"No it's not. Trust me." Peter tried to reason.

You scoffed, "How would you know?"

"I've... had my fair share of lecturing with Mr. Stark." Peter admitted shyly.

"Whaaaat? Perfect Peter Parker?" You sarcastically questioned as you mockingly put a hand over your chest with a gapped mouth.

Peter smiled lightly, "I'm serious [Y/N]. Mr. Stark has screamed at me countless times and it honestly sucks sometimes but from what I've learned about all of those lectures, it's that Mr. Stark cares. Steve cares about you."

You scoffed, "If him screaming at me all the time is his way of showing how much he cares then I don't want it."

Peter sighed, "He just wants you to be the best you can be."

"This isn't 1940, times have changed. His head is still in the war."

Peter shrugged his shoulders, "I mean... Hydra is still trying to take control so I wouldn't consider the war being over."

You glared at him, "Did you come to defend Steve? If this is what it is then I suggest you leave."

"No!" Peter frantically shut down the thought. "Sorry, I just... I just think he's stressed out because of Fury giving him the director position."

"That doesn't give him the right to lash out at me," You defended.

"I'm not saying that," Peter soothed. "I just think that you both need to take a step back since you're both spending too much time together."

"No, I quit remember?" Your voice broke.

"We both know you don't want that," Peter insisted. "You love this life too much to let it go because some boomer is in the way."

You laughed loudly at Peter's nickname for Steve. You nodded your head in agreement. As quick as the smile came, it disappeared.

Peter noticed, "What's wrong?"

"It's been hard, you know? Having Steve breathing down my neck all the time."

Peter nodded, "Yeah I know what you mean. Tony is talking to him right now."

You nodded and remained silent. It wasn't an awkward silence, it was a calming one. One that you wished you could stay in forever.

"[Y/N]? Peter?" A voice called from below you. You and Peter looked down to see Tony standing on your balcony. He looked up to see you two sitting at the roof. "Can you both come down please?"

You and Peter looked at one another. Peter smiled in reassurance before making his way down. You sighed before following behind.

Once you made it to your balcony, Tony was there waiting for you. You quickly noticed that Peter was no where to be seen.

You quirked you're eyebrow, "Umm-"

"Steve wants to talk to you," Tony began speaking.

You shook your head, "I don't think that's a good idea."

He sighed before putting his hands on either side of your arms. He smiled warmly at you before continuing, "Dont worry kid. Everything will be fine."

You felt at peace with his statement. You slowly nodded before leaving your room. You jumped in surprise to see Peter waiting outside your room.

"Do you want me to be there with you?" Peter questioned in concern.

You smiled, "No thanks. This is something I have to do alone."

Peter sighed, "Just remember, Steve cares."

You stared at Peter before you quickly pull him in for a hug. Peter widens his eyes as he is taken aback.

"Thank you Peter..." You whispered as you feel his arm slowly wrap around your waist. "Thank you for caring."

Peter felt his heart race, "[Y/N] you are special. Don't let yourself push away this family. We love you."

"I love you guys too..." You whispered as a tear fell down. You both remained silent for another moment before pulling away.

"You're not bad Parker," You smirked. "Why haven't we hung out yet?"

Peter shrugged, "Been busy I guess..."

"Busy kissing Stark's ass," You concluded.

Peter laughed out loud, "Wow!"

You both laughed before a voice interrupted you.

"I apologize for the interruption. [L/N], Mr. Rogers is requesting for you in the common room." FRIDAY announced.

"Thanks I'll be there," You called out. You looked back at Peter, "I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah, we could train together or something." Peter suggested.

You agreed, "Bet. See you tomorrow."

You both waved before going your separate ways. As your footsteps echoed through the halls, your heart began racing again. You hated fighting with Steve. You admit, you did have great memories with Steve but you felt like he was taking his job as a mentor too seriously. You just wanted the old Steve back.

Once the door opened you noticed the TV was turned on you can see a movie was

"I was thinking we have the morning off tomorrow so we can have a movie night right now," Steve smiled at you. He patted the seat next to him as he shook a bowl of popcorn in his hand. "I made popcorn!"

"Wait wha-?" You questioned.

Steve sighed, "Can you please sit? I want to apologize."

You complied and found yourself slowly sitting down next to Steve. You can see him mute the TV as he turned his attention to you. You began fidgeting with your fingers once again as you felt like you were about to throw up. You hated when things were tense. You already regret screaming at Steve earlier and you especially regret how you threatened to quit the team.

"I'm sorry [Y/N]..." Steve spoke. You looked up at Steve and saw he was disappointed. The difference now was the fact that he was disappointed with himself, not you. "I never realized how hard I've been on you. I didn't mean what I said earlier, please know that. I want you here with us."

You felt yourself start tearing up once again as you thought about the mission and all the pressure you've been receiving from Steve.

"I-It's just hard. You are always mad at me. I miss you. I missed how we used to be. For the mission... I only wanted to save you. I'm sorry I didn't mean to put Peter in danger, but I didn't know what I would do if you were gone. I care about you Steve..." You cried.

Steve immediately hugged you as you cried into his chest. You released all the tension and allowed yourself to become vulnerable.

Steve felt terrible. When you left the common room upset earlier, Tony gave him a heart-to-heart on what it's like to mentor young ones. Tony made Steve realize that they just needed bonding. Having a mentor doesn't always mean giving orders and following them, it's not always about fighting. The point of a mentor is to have a bond, to have someone to lean into when they make a mistake. It's to have someone be there to listen when they feel overwhelmed.

Steve only wanted you to be the best you could be. He knew your potential. What Steve didn't realize is that he was driving you away with his persistence of your perfection. He was treating you like a soldier and that's not how it should be.

Steve breathed out as he pulled you away so you could look at him, "I promise from here on out things will change. I just need one thing from you..."

You stared, waiting for his request.

"Don't you dare put your life at risk," Steve requested. "You scared me to death seeing you in the line of fire. I care about you too, [Y/N]. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you."

Your heart fluttered, you knew Steve cared but your relationship has been blurred lately. It was nice hearing things clear up. You didn't feel the tension like you did earlier today. You mentally thanked Peter and Tony for reassuring you that everything will be fine.

"I'm sorry..." You whispered as you looked down. "It is my job to put myself at risk though..."

Steve quickly picked your head up and smiled at you, "I'm so proud of you [Y/N]. I know you will do great things in the future. Just don't do things that are risky and without our consent. We have done this far longer than you can imagine. When things don't seem fair, they are only there to make sure everyone is as safe as possible. I'm sorry for making things hard on you. I only want what's best, but I promise to change the way I've been acting. You are family, you deserve to be treated like it."

"Thank you..." You smiled. "I promise not to be a jerk also."

Steve laughed, "Don't worry about that. I'm the one who's been a jerk."

After his statement, you reached over him and stole the popcorn and TV remote from him, "Good. Now I can do this." You smirked as you unmuted the TV and shoved a mouthful of popcorn in your mouth.

You heard his laugh ring in your ears making you feel at home. You both started yelling and throwing popcorn at each other as the TV played in the background. Your laughters echoed down the halls and continued for the rest of the night.

This is what being a family is. Playing around, being there for one another, realizing when you make a mistake and apologizing. It's about love and compassion. It's about unity.

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ironhusband · 4 years

Note

Hey, for the angst prompts, could we get a #7 "this used to be our song..." "don't" for Ironhusbands?

(I'm bracing myself for some hecking pain. I know I'll have to make up a happy ending in my head, but I love your writing)

Wow, ok, sorry, this’ll be very hard to attach a happy ending to haha.

“This used to be our song...” “don’t”

~~~

Life became routine for him. Wake up, think about Rhodey. Go to work, think about Rhodey. Return home, think about Rhodey. Try to find a hobby, think about Rhodey. Pour himself a drink, think about Rhodey. Do anything, think about Rhodey. Some days were better. Sometimes he was too busy with work to only think about Rhodey briefly. Sometimes he was too enamored with a new pastime that he only remembered Rhodey when he stopped. But most days were just plain awful. And this day? Was the worst of them all.

He didn’t have to go to work today. The whole day was meant for what he has been doing anyway: think about Rhodey.

And Tony hated it. He hated not doing anything, just being miserable and useless all day, trying to fall asleep, willing himself to be in Rhodey’s arms. He refused to be pathetic. The music... it made it better sometimes. Reminded him of better times. He could close his eyes and pretend to be on their tenth anniversary.

“This used to be our song.”

Tony opened his eyes slowly, knowing exactly who will be there.

“Don’t,” Tony whispered to Rhodey’s beautiful, glowing face.

Rhodey grinned wider, ignoring him, “c’mon, Tones, we both know why you were listening to this. We both know what day it is.”

“Yes but... don’t.”

Rhodey’s smile turned sadder, but when offered Tony his hand, Tony couldn’t help but feel happy. “It can be our song again, for tonight,” Rhodey told him, “dance with me, baby.”

And Tony took his hand, because how could he not.

Rhodey smiled as he let Tony lead. He would usually argue with him a little, but this was a special occasion. Tony could lead if he wanted to lead. “You look older,” Rhodey noted, running his hand through Tony’s temples where his hair had turned grey, “it suits you.”

“Strange, how the passage of time can do that.”

Rhodey chuckled, although Tony’s joke wasn’t funny. “Are you seeing anyone?” Rhodey asked.

Tony scoffed, “you ask me that every year. You know the answer.”

Rhodey sighed, “are you at least happy?”

Tony didn’t respond to that.

“Tones...”

“What?” Tony asked, “you’d want me to move on? To be happy? I’ve heard it all, Rhodey, but it’s easier said than done.”

“Baby, it’s been five years.”

“So what?” Tony snapped, “it’s not as easy as everyone thinks it is. It only gets harder, every day I’m not with you makes it harder. So what if it’s been five years? Oh, the love of my life is dead, but good news everyone, I’m back on the market? It doesn’t get less stupid the longer has passed.”

Rhodey caressed his cheek softly, “Tony, life can’t stop because I’m gone.”

“But it did,” Tony said, “things changed too much because of this, no matter how much you want me to still be happy. And you don’t get to tell me how to live my life, okay? You are the one that left me. You made this situation.”

Ghost Rhodey blinked in surprise, “that’s not fair.”

Tony laughed, “don’t tell me about fair. I was goddamn happy for the first time in my life. I was happy with you. And then you just... you just...”

When Tony blinked his eyes clear enough from the tears, of anger, of frustration, he was screaming at a wall. The song was over and ghost Rhodey was gone. If he ever really existed.

Tony sank to his knees, and could only let out tears of grief, of sadness, of heartbreak.

#asks #druwrites #ironhusbands #tony stark #james rhodes #james rhodey rhodes #rhodeytony #rhodey #rhfe #iron man #war machine #iron patriot

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mikkachu8888 · 4 years

Text

A/N I do not own any of the main plot line or characters of Marvel. Those rights are reserved for the creators. Thank you.

Peter x adult!reader

You were nervous to say the least. You looked at the clock on your wall again. It was probably only 15 minutes until they would arrive. You sighed. Mae and Peter are coming over for dinner. It's only been a few months since Tony's funeral and you can't say you were coping well. Natasha...Tony... Steve... all gone. Steve wasn't dead, but he seemed on the verge of it due to his old age now, but either way you weren't ready to let him go either. It felt like you were robbed of so much time you could have spent with him. He always was my most understanding fake uncle/dad/brother...or whatever you wanted to consider him. It didn't matter how you felt though, it's what makes him happy and you have to respect that... even if internally you weren't ready to bury another one of your family members. These people helped raise you and it broke your heart to see how your family got so much smaller.

Clint made more of an appearance in your life after the events, however. After Nat died you both found great comfort and grieving her death together. He became your new outlet to vent, which had previously belonged to Steve. Actually, this whole dinner was Clint's idea. It was something that was meant to clear the air between Peter and I.

"Are you okay?"

I turned to the voice and saw my fiancé of 8 months standing in the kitchen door with his hands in his pockets and looking at me with a concerned, but supportive smile.

"No..." I admit. "I've faced mass genocide, the largest war to human kind, and losing most of my family all at once... and yet... I've never been more nervous than I am right now."

"What do you think is going to happen?" (f/n) says.

"I don't know... I know it's really not that big of a deal compared to what we've all gone through before, but for some reason I can't bear to see Peter so upset with me. It...Just...It hurts my heart. I can't explain it." you say putting your face into your hands.

"I understand... and to be honest I think it is... a big deal." (f/n) says walking over and placing his hands on my arms gently. "So many families have been disrupted by the blip. Parents seeing their children all grown up all of a sudden, couples having larger age gaps and who have grieved and moved on, people who have blipped and realized that their loved ones that have remained here passed away in that what seemed to be moments they've been gone...in which it was actually years."

You looked up at him. He gave a small smile. "You are not the only one struggling to adjust in these weird times and grieving the lost time. I'm sure Peter is just as confused and nervous as you are. He was your boyfriend, your lover. You guys were very close and I'm sure when he came back from the blip he still thought you were the same as ever... only to realize that it wasn't the case."

"He saw me for the first time at Tony's funeral...and he wouldn't even talk to me. He just stared at me... almost like he was afraid of me." The sentence came out like it was a soft whisper, but ended with just pain and hurt in it.

"Is that a bad thing?" (f/n) asked. "Wouldn't you be? I know I would, especially if I was just a 16 year old kid."

"No no...No... You're right. I honestly should be thinking about him too. He's probably shell shocked and I'm just worried about myself." You take a deep breath and gave a slight bitter chuckle. "I'm the adult here. I've matured and learned to cope. I shouldn't be the one who's scared here."

"I think it's okay for you both to be scared. Don't worry, though. I'll be there and Mae will be there to help. Clint says he'll be standing by if you need help." It was at that moment, the doorbell rang making you jump. "You got this. I promise."

He gave you a kiss on the cheek before leaving to answer the door. You mulled over his words for a moment before sucking in a breath and following him. As you walked through your living room you reached up and began fixing your hair as you walked. You wanted to make sure you at least looked like you weren't a complete mess, but you were on the inside. A horrible, grieving, pitiful, shawarma and ice cream eating mess.

I wore black. It was my go to color. Not because I was sad or grieving, but because it is the most convenient color and showed so much class while also hiding your shame. There was very little the color black couldn't hide. You were grateful that when you joined SHIELD and the main uniform color was black. You cut your hair shorter and mostly wore it up in a tight seamless bun for work, but tonight it is in its full glory. Your fiancé wore basic white button up and black pants. He had on a tie before, but you supposed it was bothering him so he took it off. At least he put on the black blazer as well. You never liked the tie anyway. It was just something Steve had said one time that was necessary for important events. He taught (f/n) how to tie it and everything.

You stood beside (f/n) a little ways back as you were bit afraid. He opened the door and there stood Mae, Peter, and shockingly Happy smiling back. Peter actually wasn't smiling. He wasn't even looking at neither you nor (y/n). His gaze was to the side towards the floor. It was clear that he wasn't ready to face reality either. Your eyes moved back to the group as a whole. "Happy, what are you doing here?" You- asked stretching out a smile that may have seemed a little forced.

"Well, I was just popping over to the Parker residence from visiting Pepper and Morgan, and Mae invited me to come along, so I thought I haven't seen you in a while and there was no harm in dropping by as well. I wanted to see what you've been up to and what not." Happy nodded with a big smile. He leaned close and half whispered "Mae thought that you all could use as much help as you could get with this weird situation anyway."

"O-oh... okay... well um. Thanks for coming. I'm sure it's appreciated." You internally cursed. More people to witness the horror that will be this dinner. You turned your attention to Mae. "Hi, Mae." You smiled a bit and you could tell she already had tears pricking her eyes and she held out her arms for a big hug. She gave you tight motherly squeeze and rubbed your back. "Hi, Honey. Gosh, you've gotten so big. You just look absolutely beautiful."

"Yes. Thank you. It's been so long since I've seen you... Well I suppose not to you." You attempted a joke to lighten the mood. She and Happy laughed though that joke didn't seem to land well with Peter as he didn't laugh and only seemed to be made more uncomfortable.

Your eyes did fixate on Peter now and the silence of the group became thick and very tense. He wasn't saying anything and you bit your lip. "Hey...Peter." Your voice was softer and sounded week. He looked exactly the same. Young baby face with wispy brown hair that seemed to like to hang in his face depending how it fell. He did a pretty good job at keeping it combed back, however. His brown eyes finally looked back at you and widened just slightly. You looked so much different, yet, exactly the same. For starters, the makeup. That was so much more new. You never wore makeup. You were perfectly happy with the nude appearance of your face. Although you weren't wearing much makeup it was still prevalent that you had some on, but just enough to look clean and classy. Your hair wasn't as super long as you had it when you were younger. It was always down and long and it was a daily struggle for you to keep it maintained and out of paint or your food at lunch. You were always getting it caught in your mouth or finding random strands of it on your clothing or in your stuff. He remembered how sometimes when he kissed you your hair would get caught between their lips. It was embarrassing then, but now he missed it. Now it was cut much shorter and seemed more tamed. He wasn't sure if he liked that or not. It didn't matter, however, for some reason in Peter's mind it made you look all the much more mature and older. Everything about you seemed older and mature. Your body was different. Slightly wider hips and a bit larger breasts. He probably wouldn't have noticed either difference if it wasn't for the dress you were wearing... or for the matter that you were wearing a dress at all. Dresses and skirts weren't your forte last time he saw you. You said they restricted you from doing the things you wanted to do. No, leggings and jeans covered in paint, pen marks, sharpies was what you wore on a daily basis along with an oversized hoody of some sort. Peter looked down at the ground. He noticed you weren't wearing any shoes. He cracked a slight side smile. At least that was one thing that didn't changed about you. You always hated wearing shoes. It didn't matter where you were or the temperature outside. Shoes were never the priority for you. You always carried a pair and wore them when you had to, but if they bothered you too much or you just found them unnecessary you'd kick them off and immediately toss them in your backpack. So many times you'd walk down the school halls bare foot with some type of drawing that you drew on them from being bored in class. Peter always thought that little quirk was cute. He could actually see a little tattoo on the side of your foot, but couldn't make it out in that moment. In fact when he looked closer, he saw that both your feet looked slightly different from each other. He wasn't quite sure, but it seemed the foot with the tattoo seemed somewhat off. He just wasn't sure what was different.

His voice finally decided to make an appearance. "Hey... again..." It didn't come out as strong as he wanted it to, but it came out enough for her to hear.

"How are you?" You asked him.

"Uh..." He didn't have anything to say. He just gave an awkward nod and a generic 'ok'. He wasn't ready to talk. You backed off and looked at the group as a whole once more.

"Oh um... everyone. This is my fiancé, (f/n)" you said stepping back and introducing your now future husband. Peter's face immediately dropped. His eyes widened and he looked back and forth between you and your fiancé in an almost panicked state. He couldn't believe it. You had found someone else. You had left him.

"Hi, everyone." (f/n) smiled and waved and shook everyone's hand, except Peter who didn't even attempt to raise his hand. His face now stared wide eyed at your fiancé who waited patiently for his hand in return. Mae nudged Peter's arm and he blinked a couple of times in realization and took (f/n)'s hand to shake. "Oh yeah um sorry... it's nice to meet you." He says politely trying to cover up how frazzled he was for a moment.

"Well, everyone. Why don't you come inside?" You say and step to the side allowing everyone to filter into your home.

"Wow... fancy." Happy says looking around at stuff.

"Happy, you knew I lived here." You say unamused.

"I've never seen the inside, though." He commented back.

"So how long have you lived here?" Mae asks looking at the light fixtures.

"3 years or so now." You say watching them. "I know it's much different than that dingy apartment I was at before."

"Yeah um.... How did you get a place like this?" Peter asks quietly.

"Uh well... with my new job and the housing being cheaper from the blip and-"

"Tony bought it." Happy commented bluntly cutting you off.

You sighed. "Yes. Tony bought and designed it for me. My job at SHIELD lets me be able to pay for it."

"You work at SHIELD?" peter asks glancing back at you.

"Yes. Head of the entire global security and protection program. Also, I'm a public advocate for the international super powered and mutated community." You say with a bit of pride.

"Wow that sounds like a very high position." Mae says.

"It can be, I suppose." You shrug your shoulders.

"You've certainly come a long way since you were young." Mae says a little sad.

"I think everyone who was left here during the blip has. It just depends on if they came a long way for the better or worse. That depends on the person." You state glancing at Happy. "Right, Happy?"

"Yeah. There's been a lot of people who dropped over the edge since that, but also a lot of people who've thrived since then. We've seen it all." Happy says skeptically looking at one of the vases you had on your counter. You walked over and took the vase from Happy's hands. "Why don't we all sit down before you break something." You says putting the vase back down where it was.

"Where did you get that? It's hideous." Happy says moving towards the sofa.

"It came with the house." You stated.

"Why'd you keep it?" Happy says scrunching up his nose.

"Don't worry about it." You say ushering him to the couch.

"I happen to like it. I think it's... unique." Mae says admiring it from afar as she sat next to Happy and Peter on one of the sofas. You and (f/n) sat across from them on the other. He gave them each glasses of water in case they got thirsty. You hadn't seen him even go into the kitchen to get them.

"Oh yeah... I mean... if you look at it that way then I guess it's pretty nice." Happy says backtracking and taking a pert sip of the water he was just given. Your eyes furrow as you look between Happy and Mae. You glance at Peter who also seems confused at the interaction.

"Okay...so Happy. What were you doing at the Parker residence?" you ask Happy with a smirk.

"Oh you know. Just checking in. See how Peter is doing." Happy says not so casually.

"I see." You say as your eyes look back at Peter. "So, Peter."

"Huh?" he asks a little startled by my turn of attention to him. The water in his cup sloshing at the sudden movement. "How are you doing?"

"Oh um... okay, I guess." He responds nodding. That was it. The entire highlight of the conversation between us for the rest of the time. The rest of the time he and you both remained quiet and only spoke when spoken too. You were hurt. He was hurt. You could tell. Not only because you know him, but because teenagers tend to have less of a poker face when they're upset. No matter how hard they try to hide it, it usually slips through that they are emotional in that moment. You have learned to control that side of you a lot better. You are no longer that emotional and even if you were, you've learned to hide it a lot better. Your face remains impassive, but you sit there thinking that perhaps he doesn't need impassive. He needs something to know that you are feeling much of the same feelings he is feeling. You just don't know what to say.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you two meet?" Mae asks setting her glass on the coffee table in front of us. Peter's attention becomes more alert at the question. It was obvious he was wondering the same thing. Just when did this happen?

"Oh no. I don't mind. I suppose that is one of the big elephant questions in the room." You say a little nervously.

"We met in physical therapy. We had the same Therapist and she brought all her patients together for group stretching once a week. It was something that was set up through a volunteer group for people with superpowers and mutations. I can't exactly remember the name, but it was group that helped with the devastation after the snap. They helped clean up and got people out of crisis and arranged for a lot of the people with powers who were injured to receive medical attention and physical therapy from medical professionals that had mutations of some sort as to not expose us or risk exploitation. Do you remember the volunteer organization's name?" (f/n) asked looking at me.

"It wasn't an organization. It was a school, I believe. Dr. Xavier ran the school. He's quite the man. I talk to him every now and again, but I haven't heard from him quite a while. He's part of the reason I got my foot in the door for advocating for those with superpowers or mutants as they call them." You state.

"Interesting. What were you going to physical therapy for?" Mae asked. "Or what I mean is, what happened?"

"Well I was on a train in New York with my sister and mother when people starting dusting away. I suppose the conductor was one of those people because our train never stopped and crashed full force into one of the buildings and derailed us from the tracks over a bridge, it sent us crashing into the streets. My mother died on impact, but I was able to protect my sister with my body. I can turn my body into different materials, so I was able to keep most of the things away from her and she just had a couple of broken bones, but I didn't move fast enough because I got a metal rod straight through the chest. It broke right near my sternum. I had no clue why or how I was still alive. I thought I was going to die in there for sure until some of the students from that school showed up." (f/n) unbuttoned his shirt half way to show the large star like shaped scar right in the center of his chest.

"That's awesome..." Happy muttered looking in awe at his scar before getting nudged in the shoulder by Mae. "I mean terrible. Truly terrible. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Yes, that's awful. I'm sorry that happened to you." Mae says sympathetically.

(f/n) chuckled and buttoned his shirt back up. "No, don't worry about it. These types of things make us stronger right? And I do agree with Happy. I think my scar is pretty awesome." He patted his chest proudly. You smiled in amusement and gave slight chuckle.

"...and you?" Peter's soft voice piped up after a moment. Everyone looked at him. He was looking at you. You weren't really sure what he was trying to ask you. He glanced at everyone before licking his lips and trying again to clarify. "Uh um. What I mean is what happened to you... as well? Why were you in, you know, physical therapy?"

"Oh. I was actually in Africa fighting in battle." You sated simply.

"You were a part of the Battle of Wakanda?" Peter asks sitting up straighter now.

You smiled a bit and let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah. It was like pulling teeth to convince Steve to let me, but yeah. I was. It was a savage alien that bit and clawed into my leg and that started the problems, but it was a female servant of Thanos that actually took my leg. Cut it clean off with swords she had."

"Oh my god. That's horrible." Mae exclaimed and Peter's eyes traveled to your foot once more. That's why your foot looked so off. It was a prosthetic. Peter thought it looked too real to be a prosthetic, but too fake to be real. You were able to walk so seamlessly though. Like you never lost your leg at all.

"Not as horrible as for her. When Natasha found out she was absolutely pissed. She and one of the Wakanda guards kicked her ass." You laughed outwardly. Peter saw the old you come out all of a sudden and all at once. He smiled brightly. "And then what happened?" he asked.

"They sent her ass through her own giant alien sawblade that they tried to kill us with!" You were full blown laughing now. The memory had you almost in tears because of how convenient and karmic the whole thing was. If you remembered correctly you remember yourself laughing in that moment as well. Despite nearly being dead in a ditch and bleeding out uncontrollably, you were still verbally shouting out cheers of praise to Nat as she fought and when she came to quickly bandage you up to stop the bleeding. You remembered Nat replying to you "Shut up, kid or I'll leave you here instead. All that shouting is going to make you pass out anyway." Funny enough she wasn't too far off the target because it wasn't long after she told you that did you fall unconscious from blood loss and woke up with a sweet new robotic vibranium prosthetic leg in Wakanda's medical ward.

"So, if she cut your leg off what happened next." Peter asked now interested in the story.

"Nat bandaged me up, I passed out, and I woke up with a sweet new robotic leg in Wakanda's medical ward. After I was healed enough I was transferred to Xavier's school where I sharpened my powers and did physical therapy along with the others. Once I was healed, Tony came back from outer space. Once he was recovered he told us everything and eventually upgraded my leg. Now it looks almost like I never lost a leg. Well, sort of. It still looks a bit off and it glitches every now and again, but I'm not complaining. I can still walk so." You shrugged now crossing your leg over the other and folding your arms over your chest.

"Wow. That's really cool." Peter said breathlessly. He seemed to admire you so much more. You knew you were now Tony Stark, but it was nice to have those admiring eyes directed towards you for once. The type of eyes that didn't hold romantic feelings, but still held the belief that everything you did was cool and amazing.

"Thank you, Peter." You smiled.

"So when are you two getting married?" Happy asks randomly and taking a gulp of water.

*smash*

The glass in Peter's hand immediately smashes in his palm. Everyone makes a noise in surprise at the sudden sound and turn to Peter. "Oh! Uh... I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I'll... I'll clean it up." Peter says getting down on the floor to clean it up.

"Peter, your hand." You gasp setting your cup down. His hand started bleeding from all the glass shards that decided to embed themselves into his skin.

"Oh um..." Peter's face flushed a bright red. He couldn't help but feel intense embarrassment about the situation.

"Don't worry about the glass. I got it. You go with (y/n) and get your hand all patched up, okay?" (f/n) says already standing to go and get the broom.

"Yeah, come on, Peter. I have a first aid kit in the kitchen." You say standing up and helping him to his feet. You held his arm as he kept his hand underneath his injured one, hoping to catch the blood so it wouldn't get onto your carpet. You walked him to the kitchen. "Just put your hand over the sink and I'll be there in a moment."

"Okay." Peter says doing what you asked as you began to rummage around the medicine cabinet. Peter began to run his hand under a bit of water as you came back with the first aid kit. You first got some tweezers and a dish towel and dragged 2 chairs over so we could sit. You first sat down and put the dish towel across your lap. Peter then sat down and you gently grabbed his hand and set it in your lap while looking closely at it. "Nothing bad it looks like. Obviously nothing the Amazing Spiderman can't handle." You joke looking at him with a smile and he smiles back with an awkward laugh.

A silence falls over you both as you begin to focus on plucking the tiny shards from his hand. You didn't notice how the air got thicker and you certainly didn't notice how things got increasingly more difficult for Peter to stomach. He stared at you the entire time and the longer he did the more his heart broke. You didn't notice how his straight face slowly broke until you saw a few tear drops fall onto the surface of the hand you were working on and you heard a choked back sob. You looked up and saw his face as he turned away. You set the towel with glass pieces aside and held his hand. You knew he wasn't crying because of his hand or if there was a possibility you hurt him. He was much tougher than that. You also knew you couldn't physically hurt him even if you wanted to. His powers made it easier for him to handle a lot more than a regular human. No, his pain was internal. His kind soft heart was bursting with pain. "Peter..." you said softly with a frown.

"I... I miss you." He said finally with his head down and his chest heaved. "I miss you so much."

This is where your heart broke and you couldn't even keep your composure anymore. You hugged Peter and you hugged him tight. You hugged him like how you wanted to hug him the day you found out that he was one of the victims of the Snap. You hugged him like he would dust away again. You hugged him like he would leave you again, but this time not come back. And you cried. Oh, you cried like you should have when you first saw him again. You cried as you were finally getting the closure you wanted. It was five years, but you had him in your arms again and you couldn't be more grateful. "I miss you, too."

"First I lost Mr. Stark and now you..." he began crying harder now. He drops to his knees on the floor and his face goes to your lap.

"That's not true. I'm right here." I told him holding him tighter.

"But you're not mine anymore. You're his... and it only seems like just a few months ago you were at my house and we were playing video games and listening to music." Peter said getting his voice more.

"But it wasn't a few months ago. It's been years, Peter." You tell him stroking his hair.

"I know... but... it's just not fair!" he says gripping the fabric of your dress around your thighs tight in his balled fists.

"I know, I know it's not fair." You tell him as more tears fell from your eyes.

"If... if he wasn't there... If you weren't getting married, would you wait for me?" he asked quietly. You pressed your lips together. This was a very heavy question. It wouldn't change the outcome of how things were now no matter how you answered, but it could change the way Peter thought about things and how your relationship would be from here on out. You had to answer carefully. Either he could be angry with you and refuse to have contact with you, or he could have a false sense of hope and closure all depending on how you answered his question. You just hated to see him so upset and you wanted to give in, but you also could not lie to him either. If you ever loved him then you would not lie to him, even now.

"No, Peter." I told him gently petting his hair. His body tensed at the words. "Look at me."

He didn't move, so you shifted your body away slightly and lifted his chin up, so he would look at you. "Peter, I want you to listen to me. I want you to really hear what I am trying to tell you."

He looks at you with his tear stained face, but he does what you ask. "What happened to us is cruel and unfair, but it did happen. This whole situation is hard to swallow and seeing you like this kills me. Seeing your face for the first time when you came back and realizing you didn't grow up with me was one of the hardest things I had to come to terms with because I immediately realized that we couldn't work. I think it was even harder for me when I realized that when you came back, you had no idea what had happened and you thought we were still together like always. I found it difficult when I saw the reality hit you when you looked at me for the first time at Tony's funeral. I still care deeply for you, but you are still a child, Peter. You blipped. I didn't. I mourned and moved on. I know that when you become in your twenties it won't really be a big deal anymore with the age gap, but that's nearly 10 years of my life waiting for you. That's 10 years of my life halted and stagnant. That's also nearly 5 years of your life wasted waiting on me when you also need to move on. I'm sorry, but it won't be healthy if you wait for me."

He doesn't say anything for a long while. He just sets his head back down in your lap as he thinks over what you just told him. I don't mind, however. You said what you had to. You couldn't lie to him. It wasn't the adult or right thing to do. You had to just rip the band aid off. It seemed we sat there for a while. I knew the others were giving us our privacy. We all knew this dinner was really just to break the news to Peter that our relationship wouldn't work and hoping we could still be okay afterwards.

"Do you love him?" he asked quietly, his voice breaking a bit.

"Yes." You answered back.

"Did you love me?"

"Yes."

"Do you still love me?"

"Yes."

"But... not the same way..." he sighed.

"...No... not in the same way." You tell him gently.

"I... I suppose that's okay." He muttered, even if he didn't like his own answer.

"Thank you, Peter." You say with a smile looking down at him.

"For what?" he asks looking up at you.

"For understanding, for not being angry, for being a good person, for doing the right thing for yourself and I, ... and for just giving me some of the best moments of my life being with you." You tell him happily.

"O-oh. No problem." He says now getting back up off the floor and going to his feet.

You follow suit. His face was still tear stained, but he didn't have complete dread in his eyes anymore.

"It's going to take a while for me to get over you." He says looking at the ground.

"I know it will because it took me awhile. (f/n) was very patient with me." You tell him before thought came into her head. "Peter, I know this is too soon, but may I point you in a direction of people to consider giving a chance?"

"Um... okay?" He didn't seem too comfortable, but he was open to hear what she suggested.

"You know Michelle Jones that was in our class, right? I believe she just went by MJ."

"MJ?" Peter thought taking it into consideration.

#spiderman #peter parker #tom holland #xreader #infinity war #endgame #marvel #tony stark #black widow #steve rogers #hawkeye

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drstrangewillseeyounow · 3 years

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purimgifts dear creator letter

Hi you!

I love Purim and I love this exchange and am so excited to see what you will create.

I'm a shipper at heart, but I also adore a good gen fic, especially in a shorter format such as this. Mystery, friendship fic, slice of life; three interconnected stories or three separate short poems – I know I'll be delighted with whatever you come up with. Same goes for the "art" – the relaxed, don't-take-this-too-seriously vibe of this exchange is a large part of why I like it so much.

I love surprises, so whatever I'm writing below is just me taking the opportunity to ramble about things I like for a little bit.

See you for Purim!

Awake (TV)

A severely underseen one-season show using the idea of parallel universes to great and novel effect. I don't ship anyone in this, but I love Jason Isaacs and the cast is great overall. Since both therapists are wonderful, I could imagine something from Dr. Judith's perspective. A conversation with or about Michael (maybe with her supervisor/spouse) or maybe even her case notes.

Black Books

If you know this show, you know that everyone in it is the best at being the worst. Fran's interactions with Bernard and Manny are gold, of course, but it'd also be interesting to see her have her own adventure, like maybe a weird (or perfectly normal) customer at Nifty Gifty.

Drop Dead Diva

While to quality of this show is wildly uneven, Brooke Elliott's exuberant charm as Jane is a constant. The show is also full of great female characters. I especially love Jane's assistant Teri, her roommate Stacy and Kim Kasswell. I don't particularly like Jane with Grayson (although it's better once he's in Ian Holt's body) or Owen, but I really loved her and Tony, so if you liked them together, too, that would be amazing.

Fringe (TV)

I love almost everything about Fringe. Olivia and Astrid are both amazing and I adore them equally (Alt-Astrid, too; my only Fringe fic is about her and Alt-Lincoln). Alternate universes, time loops, playing with identity – this show has it all. That said, a quite conversation or an outside POV are just as welcome.

Go On (TV)

Another underwatched and underappreciated one-season show. I really liked how it depicted different types and stages of grief and bereavement and managed to find the humor without selling out its characters. Ann, the lesbian lawyer, was probably my favorite, but over its single season, the show managed to give some nuance to every character, so I'd enjoy any character and configuration.

iZombie (TV)

The first three seasons of this show were completely amazing. Another show where I love basically everybody, although – shamefully – Blaine is my probably my fave. I really enjoyed the friendship between Liv and Peyton as well as all the possibilities that come with Liv's changes in personality due to her brain of the week.

The Middleman (TV)

I haven't watched this show (another one-season wonder) in too long, but remember it very fondly. Wendy Watson's dead-pan humor in the face of the most crazy and bizarre scenarios and her lovely friendship with her roommate Lacey. Ida the robot was another fave, and for what it's worth, I also had a crush on Tyler. Wendy and he were so good and banter-y together.

Miranda (TV)

What isn't amazing about Miranda? I love how the show mines so much humor from Miranda's awkwardness without losing sight of her as a human being. She looks like a real person and has this disarming, bright smile and she makes a fool of herself like we all do sometimes, if a bit more frequently and more hilariously. I love her best friend Stevie and her somewhat horrible mum and also sweet, stupid Gary, bless him.

Russian Doll (TV 2019)

Such a wonderful, mind-boggling show. One of the best takes on the time loop conceit I've ever seen. Nadia is a complex, fun and strange character (played to perfection by Natasha Lyonne) and I love all the details big and small, like the world of the loop slowly deteriorating with each repeat.

House of Leaves - Mark Z. Danielewski

What a cool, messy, cerebral and bonkers book. I've no idea how and what kind of fanfic you'd write for it, but when I saw it on the nominations page, I simply had to click.

Thin Man (1934)

Nick and Nora are the best. Whether you'd set a fic in the time of the movies or transport the Nora character (Nick optional but appreciated because of their excellent banter) into another time period or even genre, I'm sure there'd be some fun to be had.

The X-Files

Dana Scully is an idol and a role model and I love her forever and always. While she and Mulder are great together, it might also be interesting to see her interacting with her mother, sister or a female friend since her world on the show feels so insular and extremely work-focused.

Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms

My favorite fairy tales are the bittersweet ones like Hans Christian Andersen's Little Mermaid or sparse ones that border on parabel. When I was younger, I used to read fairy tales from all over the world, so I'd also love learning about a new story from another culture.

Leverage

I like both Sophie and Parker, but Parker is my favorite. She is a whip smart criminal yet utterly guileless, she's loyal and her background story has so much complexity. I adore her relationship with Hardison, how careful he is with her, how much he appreciates her talent and that he is always willing to meet her at the level she wants to be at.

The Good Place (TV)

One of the best comedies - and shows generally! - I've ever seen. I love every single character and there are so many women complicated women. I'd love a chance to spend more time with pretty much any female character in any setting.

Arrival (2016)

Such a good movie based on a short story by Ted Chiang, whose work I adore. I love time shenanigans, philosophical debates and stories that make me think.

Persuasion - Jane Austen

My favorite Jane Austen novel (which was really well adapted in 2007). Wentworth's letter makes me cry.

Jewish Legend & Lore

There is so much I don't know, and I'd love to learn more in one of your gifts. Even if you'd like to base your story on something really obscure, I'll be happy to read up on a legend before diving in to read what you did with it.

Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries

This is such a fun and smart feminist show. I love Phryne and I love Dot, I love how the show depicts different ways of being independent and also alludes to the hardbreak that can come with that. I ship Phryne with Jack because he respects her even before he falls for her and he tries to understand her and doesn't want to curb her freedom.

Star Trek: Voyager

While I love Janeway and Seven of Nine, B'Elanna is my favorite. She is so smart and strong yet full of doubt, and the show did a good job of showing her different sides and how they informed and battled each other. Her complicated relationship with her mother, her doubts about her heritage and how they resurfaced when she was pregnant - there's so much meaty stuff. I also liked the arc about her ongoing guilt and recklessness over the fate of her former Maquis comrades. While the show dropped the ball some times after they'd gotten married, her relationship with Tom and how it evolved was another highlight, incl. him not wanting to take advantage of her pon farr, the space suits love confession, him making clear that he loves her not in spite of her aggressive tendencies, but that he loves all of her without qualifications.

That was a lot, I know. Ultimately, I just look forward to the whole exchange and to whatever you will feel moved to write.

See you in March!

#purimgifts #letter

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andieperrie18 · 7 years

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My Girlfriend Is A Goddess ( Peter Parker X Reader.

Hey guys! I told ya I'll make it to all of ya! So warning this can be a little fluffy. Onward!

Ohh and I rekemnd (recommend ) you guys listen to Tove Styrke's Say My Name. It inspired be to Write the adorable piece. Its an adorable song.

Peter sat by the couch at the Avengers tower at one Friday. Tony had invited to stay there for the Welcome Back from one particular Avenger he didn't know about. Everyone was busy. Natasha and Clint went grocery shopping, Tony and Bruce were down at the lab, Steve, Bucky and Falcon were out shopping which was quite unusual. Thor was with Natasha and Clint. And Wanda and Vision were experimenting on some new dishes.

The Welcome Party was manually prepare by Tony and the other Avengers which was new to Peter.

" Ugh, I'm bored." he said as he dropped on the pillows. He ignored the thoughts about the avengers and turned his thought to somewhere else. He pulled out his phone and dialled a particular number.

" Calling SpidermanGF😘😍. . . . " the screened flashed this words as Peter smiled as he placed his phone on his ear, waiting for the response.

' ring ring, ring ring, ring rin- '

" This number is currently not available to Spider man. Please try your call later. . "

Peter laughed before he pouted.

" That's rude Y/n. Imma cry. " he pouted and faked a sobbed as the said girl laughed at the other line. Peter's restlessness and boredom faded when he heard his girlfriend boys. He wanted to take her with him but Y/n was going to a family reunion somewhere so she was left in Queens.

Peter chatted with her as the time passes telling her about how the avengers were busy about the party.

" My Dear Peter my love, don't be sad now. Its not gonna take you a month there. Trust me, you'll be in my arms soon before you know it. " Y/n said at the other line, trying to comfort Peter's homesickness as possible. Peter had gotten used at Y/n 's unusual language. She always speak in an old and formal ways at sometimes. But he liked it at times. He found it really sweet.

" Do you still remember how we met at Mythology class? You defended me on how Persephone isn't really abducted by Hades." he said as the memory flashed in his mind.

Peter met her at Midtown at one afternoon in Mythology class. The topic that was discussed in class was about Hades' Bio and they came across about how Hades himself abducted Demeter's daughter.

He was defending the statedment that Persephone wasn't abducted from one of Flash's friend. He was being cornered and was losing the debate.

" Persephone is not abducted. She came to Hades in her own free will. " a voice bombarded the whole room. The flash's friends turn to you and scoffed as Peter just looked at the girl.

She stood with a strong and straight composure as she held a book.

" If you read Famous Rick Riordan's The Gods Love Facts (a/n: theres no such book! Just made it up if you guys are Percy Jackson fan and read uncle Rick's books ). He had conducted his research in Greece as he studied their history in scrolls and tablets.

The tablet labelled ' The Myth of the Winter and Spring '. It was said that Persephone herself can't handle her mother's overprotectiveness.The description of Persephone is that she is adventurous and daring. One faithful day, she decided to runaway for a couple of days to explore but she met Hades on her way. The god had been stalking the nymph for a long time now and dreamed her to be as his queen. "

The whole class had their attention, all were intrigued by the real story of the Goddess of the Underworld that even your prof was focused on you. Peter multitasked. He would admire your features as he listened to you.

" Persephone's disappearance caused Demeter to her Wrath to mankind, cursing an eternal winter to the vast lands. Zeus had pursuade Hades to return the nymph to her mother. Even though the god didn't want it, he made her leave.

Persephone had fallen for the king. Hades is the eldest of his three brothers. He let Zeus trick him to rule the underworld. He did what a normal elder sibling would do to its sibling. Persophone wanted to stay with him so badly that she ate as many as six seeds of the pomegrenate. It is said that the food that grow in the Underworld are cursed and once you eat one. You'll be imprisoned there forever. Persephone told Zeus what she did.

There was nothing the gods can do. Zeus decided that Persephone will spend six months to both. Demeter had no choice. Every time of the year when the nymph leaves her mother side to join her lover. Demeter would cast six months of winter, no labour for six months. Now if you think she is abducted and forced to marry Hades. You are dead wrong. Up until this Day, Persephone ruled the Underworld. She bares the Key to the Elysian Field. The Definition of Heaven in Greek Mythology. She opens the gates to those who deems worthy to live an eternal and peaceful life. " she finished. A moment of silence as the whole class applauded you and your teacher smiled and gave you praises.

Peter smiled at her at the same time her gaze landing on him. She sent a smile back and a spark of light popped in Peter's chest. The next thing he knew the very novel that Y/n read was in his bag with a note that said.

" Y/n

***-***-**** "

" I gotta go. Don't worry love. You'll be home in my arms soon. Enjoy the moment with the Avengers beside who knows what will happen when you meet the mysterious avenger." she said as Peter sighed and agreed and said his I Love Yous before ending the call.

The next day, everything was ready.

" Everyone! She's on the elevator now!" Natasha called out as Peter watched everyone scrambled to the elevator. Him being one of the people scrambling his way to the elevator, thanks to her gf that he felt curiousity run in him to meet the mystery avenger.

They all froze when the elevator made ding.

You stood in the elevator in excitement and nervousness. Peter don't know your the mystery Avenger. You decided that this was the perfect time to tell him that you are the sister of a god.

The elevator ding as you breath and smiled. You did miss everyone.

The door open to reveal everyone huddle up infront of the elevator. You giggled and walked out of the elevator.

" Greetings Earthlings!!! " you said in a joking way.

" Y/n! " they all called and ran to embrace you.

" Sister!! " the familiar call of you brother echoed through your ears. Thor made his way to you in open arms and caught you in tight embrace.

" He missed you alot. " Steve said as he smiled at you.

" Yeah, I missed my darling brother too. "

" We all did! " Wanda said as she joined the hug.

" BROTHER?! " A voice echoed through the room. Everyone looked at the direction of it. Your gaze met the familiar sparkling brown eyes.

" Oh Peter, this Y/n. She is Thor's elder sister. Say Hi." Tony said as he slinged an arm on Peter's shoulder.

" Hello Love. " you muttered out with a awkward laugh. Everyone turned to you in wide eyes. Peter couldn't believe it. He was just calling you yesterday and now you were infront of him. He ran to you locking you in his warm embrace that you didn't even think for a moment and hugged him back.

" Ok?. . . You two know each other? " Clint asked.

" Your here! And your an Avenger!? Why didn't you tell me? I'm sad! " he pouted and broke away from the hug his arms still around you. " Sorry love. I'm here now aren't I? I was scared that you would be scared of me and leave me because I'm immortal. " you said as you look down in sadness.

Peter hated seeing you sad.

" Oh Y/n. I don't care if your immortal. I loved you for you. And I will never stop. " he said as he lifted your chin up. ( A/n: Your shorter than him. Just imagine it. )You felt so much better. You looked at him with love and pulled him in a quick kiss. Peter smiled as he missed the feeling of your lips on his.

" Your Thor's sister?! So what is you power? " he asked you as he broke away from the kiss. " I'm the Goddess of Beauty and Wisdom, Love." you cooed. He smiled and rested his forehead on yours, " Hmm, cool. " he praised.

" Hey! Were still here! " Tony called breaking the moment as the couple turned to the Group.

You both stood straight but you held Peter's hand.

" Everyone, I want to tell you something. Peter is my boyfriend. And I am dating Spider man. " you confessed as you looked at Peter who was looking down in blushing mess which was adorable.

The day went on as the Avengers rained you and Peter Questions about your relationship.

So whatcha guys think?!

I posted this in my imagine book. You guys can check it out on wattpad. Hope ya guys liked it!!

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagines #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spiderman #spiderman homecoming

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

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masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

Star is getting better, Sam is getting a friend, Stephen is a Sad White Boy™. A layover chapter. I'm not very happy with how this turned out but hey, it's an update and its still pandemi-lovato outside, we gotta be gentle on ourselves. PA turned out to be way more serious than I planned it to be anyways and I think that's very yeehaw of me to expand my writing from the usual almost-crackfics that I write. Love you all 3000.

Days stretched like a piece of chewed up gum, bleeding into one another at a snail's pace, one dull grey NYC afternoon after the other. The hospital wing I was forced to camp out in Tony's tower was top notch but everything, starting from the constant beeping to the sharp, chemical smells, irritated me, and what little strength I had to communicate was mostly spent on listening to Sam's tall tales.

Odette had stopped by shortly after the first wave of weakness had set in; no, I didn't dramatically faint or suddenly develop third stage cancer, I simply turned into a near-catatonic vegetable, devoid of any emotion or will to exist. My bones were like Jell-o, my thoughts - sluggish, sparse clouds that rarely swam in the grey plains of my overtired mind.

My boss was fussing over me for hours, I heard faint echoes of her and Stephen's argumentative conversations before she flipped out and shut the door to my hospital room, strong aromas of incense and smoke briefly overshadowing the bleach and plastic stench every hospital seemed to have. I

I became mostly coherent after her ministrations; enough to see the dark circles under her eyes and the ghastly tone of her skin. More often than not, I couldn't even properly focus my vision, things like using the bathroom and eating three times a day were the worst chores I'd ever had to do.

My body was trying to convince me to wither away, to simply allow the vessel for my spirit to become one with the Earth once more. I had no energy to process what had happened on the foreign planet; when I slept, I didn't dream, I didn't have nightmares, time just flowed like a fast, untamed river, my weary body drifting along the calmer streams of the shoreline and occasionally bumping into a stone of daily routine.

My stubbornness, however, was an inherent part of me. I had considered, many times, simply giving up; the voices in my head whispered at me their poisonous ideas. It would be so easy, to fall asleep and never wake up. They baited me with the promises of afterlife, of golden halls and spaces full of light and warmth.

Sam had started spending a lot of time at my bedside absolutely unprompted; sometimes, he'd hold my hand, gentle, tender fingers drawing senseless squiggles on the inside of my palm. Faint echoes of his aura told me he was worried for me, but also grateful for what I did for Stephen and angry at someone. I tried not to think about the last part: I could sense their pity and their unease every time one of his teammates stopped by my hospital room.

A healthy-looking young woman spending most of her days blankly staring at the wall wasn't a picture-postcard view. Sam wasn't bothered by it in the slightest, and when I finally clawed my way out of the dredges to be able to answer questions with a simple 'yes' or 'no', he promptly lit up, speaking to me in a happy tone that almost wasn't forced.

Tony stopped by, too, usually late in the evening, when he thought I and everyone else was asleep. He sat next to me, his intelligent brown eyes fixed on my face for twenty, thirty minutes at a time before he'd stroke my hair or run a hot, calloused palm over my arm, and then took his leave, slow, shuffling footsteps quietly receding into the hallways. I really didn't know what to think about Tony, he had always been quite quirky, but his gestures were... Nice.

Stephen... Him, his actions, I understood the least. He had argued with Tony, argued with Odette and I was sure I heard him and the Black Widow scream at each other during lunch time. Sometimes I thought I heard his voice, at night, the darkness behind my eyelids suddenly bursting with golden sparks and green bokeh but when I finally mustered up the strength to open my eyes, the empty, white walls were all that greeted me.

Stephen never stopped by, I rarely heard his voice outside of my room and almost always it was one bickering or another, mostly with Sam muttering a few choice words as he noisily sat down on the chair next to me. As much as I hated to admit it, it bothered me. Near-death experiences tended to leave a strong imprint on the human mind and whether Stephen liked it or not, we were connected for life.

"Then Steve, the dumbass, just jumps out of the plane. No chute, no warning," Sam's voice, drifting between fond and annoyed, snapped me out of my stupor. "Robot-brain curses, yells at his boyfriend like he can hear him and just... Does the same fucking thing," the exasperation made a tiny spark of mirth settle in me. I flexed my fingers despite the dull ache, gripping Sam's fingers in my palm. I didn't need to see him to know he immediately perked up. "Meanwhile I'm standing there with my wings, trying to figure out where in life did I take the wrong turn to end up with these two idiots."

"You should get them," I swallowed, my throat dry, my vocal cords tense from the lack of use. "One of those... Backpack leashes," the words were a battle to get out, it was a fight with a brick wall to force my brain to string sounds into a sentence, but I persisted.

"Should I say 'welcome back'?" Sam's optimism is cautious.

"Gettin' there," I forced my eyes to meet his, to see the life bustling in him. To feel alive, even by proxy.

"I should get Strange here, he's been running himself ragged these days, tryin' to figure out how to bring you back," Sam's free hand scrambled for his cell as I struggled to raise my eyebrows. "Yeah, yeah, I was as surprised as you were, Tony barely gets the wizard to sleep and eat."

Faint pangs of shame wormed into my headspace, for assuming the worst when I knew that his façade of vitriol and sarcasm was just that - a wall to protect himself. My rediscovery of the ability to feel, even if it was gooey shame, grounded me in this plane of existence, forcing me to face reality and return to it.

"I feel like shit," for once in my life, I allowed myself to openly, publicly complain about my state of being.

"Yeah, I couldn't tell," Sam's tone was refreshingly teasing. "Odette and Strange explained what you did. Well, sort of," the man scratched his chin. "I understood about half of it, really, but what matters is that you were badass as fuck!"

I struggled to hold onto that sense of being present. "Well, it wasn't my choice," I felt the need to state the fact. "I'm a conductor, of sorts."

Sam's eyebrows rose, both of his hands encompassing my lax palm. "Wizard-man said you consciously directed the energies, or whatever."

I felt the tiniest laugh bubble up from the bottom of my throat, my dry, chapped lips stretched on their own accord. "Because it tickled and itched. It was annoying," I belatedly suspected that there was something... Off, about my explanation.

Sam's gaping expression, exasperated disbelief, put me on edge. "You thought that radioactive ash tickles and severe nerve damage itches?" His head shook from side to side, as if he was trying to get rid of a persistent mosquito.

"Um," I had the decency to look away. "I didn't know it was radioactive," I meekly supplied as the door to my hospital room all but flew open.

Stephen looked - not much better than me, if I had to guess, with the exception of a highly anxious face instead of the (probably) dead inside high school drama club goth that I looked like. The Cape billowed behind him despite a lack of any wind, wiggling as my eyes widened in response to the fabric moving on its own.

"You're okay," Stephen's baritone had me snapping up to meet his stormy eyes with a speed I wasn't aware I possessed at this stage of my recovery. The sorcerer stood silently, eyeing me in turn.

"I'll go get some coffee," Sam delicately interjected, giving my hand a brief squeeze and all but running out the door.

"Radioactive?" I repeated the question that bothered me the most. Shock seized my chest as I fully faced the implications of our impromptu adventure, but I welcomed the acrid sensations, desperate to feel anything at all.

"Yes," the sorcerer took a few long, hurried strides before crashing into the chair. "I didn't notice at first, but then you grabbed my hand and," a jerky inhale followed the confession. "I felt the healing burn, I felt how your body rejected the particles," his speech stuttered. Slender, gloved fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'd be dead in an hour, maybe, if not for..."

I was equally at a loss for words, it seemed. "Weren't we... Harmful to others when we..?" I struggled to form my thoughts.

"You burnt it all off," Stephen replied curtly, puzzled. "Your whole being rejected everything that came from that wretched place. Tony insisted we run tests, do scans. Neither of us have even residual radiation from past x-rays," Stephen's fingers twitched. "But that's not all."

"Your hands?" I offered, remembering some of Sam's words.

A sharp inhale coming from the sorcerer answered my question, if not in detail, and the man himself hesitated to reply for a reason I did not know. I didn't undo the damage, this much I knew was true. He swallowed loudly, eyes firmly planted on the wall opposite me. "They do not hurt anymore," the words were barely louder than a whisper.

I chewed on my lip, slowly, idly, letting Stephen process whatever bothered him that much. He should have been happy, or so I thought, that there was one less thing in this world that had the potential of giving him a headache. "Good," I simply replied, attempting to shrug.

"No, you don't understand," he suddenly lifted his eyes, staring at me hotly. "You did so at the expense of your own life, your lifespan, you energy, your ability to have child-"

I stopped his rant, lifting up one shaky, and my feeble gesture instantly made the tired, broken man deflate into someone that reeked of shame and regret. His shoulders dropped, head briefly touching the side of my bed. For all purposes, I nearly acquired a lapful of kicked puppy Stephen.

Mustering up my very last dregs of energy, I scoffed in his direction: "Don't fucking tell me what to do, wizard," before the familiar weight of apathy began taking over me again. One sluggish thought after the other, I came to a conclusion that he was experiencing a sort of survivor's guilt, except I didn't die.

Or maybe I did? Maybe I'd left some unknown, invisible part of me on the irradiated plains of a foreign world, coming home as a shell of my former self. To their eyes, at least, it could have looked the part; not too long after Stephen's departure, I mustered up the strength and the courage to look into a mirror, to properly see the damage I'd done to myself.

An ashen undertone to my skin, my eyes had sunken deeply into my surprisingly angular face. I had the look of a person who'd survived famine and torture, at least. I appeared to be as dull and disgusting as I felt. For what felt the first time in ages, I carefully, slowly ran myself a hot bath with some of the fancy toiletries placed in the bathroom, because of course Tony would have a full size bath in a hospital room, the steaming, herbal-smelling liquid almost instantaneously giving a boost to my blood flow and speeding up the living energies within my exhausted form.

Sam was waiting for me when I stepped out heated and pruney, a lopsided tilt to his lips and the mouthwatering smell of coffee gathering saliva in my mouth for the first time in days.

"Stephen needs to see a fucking therapist," I grouched, sitting down on the bed, bundled up in a fluffy bathrobe.

Wilson's responding eyeroll was pure reflex. "They all do," he reached out for his thermos, having noticed me eyeing it. A paper cup was promptly filled and given to me. "I can recommend a few, by the way. That specialise in unusual circumstances," he eyed me with kindness, gesturing towards the hospital room with a wide wave of his hand.

I chewed on my lip. "I don't think it will help much, at least right now, since all my hurts are- eh, magical," I shrugged. "I gotta figure out how to stop my limbs from feeling like cooked spaghetti noodles first." The coffee tasted like the usual hospital sludge but somehow, after being devoid of all feeling, it was the single best thing I've had in the past week.

"Seems like a solid plan," Sam agreed. "Your boss is a scary lady, by the way. And I mean it respectfully."

The corners of my mouth tilted up. "Yeah, but she's also very experienced and very kind. She knows her stuff."

Sam quickly looked to the side and as I followed the direction of his stare, i spied a pile of empty Tupperware boxes, causing me to lift an eyebrow at the suddenly bashful man.

"What?" He tried for indignant but it came out as a squeak. "I'm a man, god dammit! I am given free food, I take the free food!"

The realization set in. "She's feeding you now? Did you hit on my boss to get food, Sam?" I wagged my fingers, enjoying the face expressions the man was making, probably, a little more than I should. He looked like a right bird when disgruntled, all puffed up and glaring.

"No!" He almost shrieked. "She cornered me, said I was doing God's work by sitting and talking to you! She just started bringing those... Casseroles, every time she stopped by," the agitation in his voice was quite funny to me. "Not like it's a chore, I actually like the peace and quiet. You've been the best listener I've had in the past year," Sam's grin grew more genuine. "And I don't have to see RoboCop's mug all day or listen to someone argue over the best pasta shape."

"Your house sounds like a nightmare," I supplied conversationally, remembering my own peculiar place and the set of rules and- SHIT, I belatedly realized, someone might went to my apartment to get my stuff and gotten in trouble. "Sam, who went to my place to get my stuff?" I asked, trying to force down the bubbling unease.

"Some lady stopped by, I think her name was also Sam?" He quietly questioned. "Had two kids with her, the boy kept staring at me like I'd stolen his lunch money," the man finished off his coffee, gathering the trash and noisily throwing it in the bin.

"Yeah, that's my neighbor. And Armin is a cool little dude, he's just very shy," I offered absent-mindedly, inwardly breathing a massive sigh of relief.

"He looks like the boy from 'I see dead people' movie," Sam deadpanned, opening a large drawer and extracting my gym bag from it. "I'll leave you to get dressed," we nodded to each other before Sam left the room, phone to his ear and a relaxed atmosphere around his whole being radiating warmth and contentment. That was a nice change from the tense, grim atmosphere of the days past. I could get used to it, could re-learn how to let myself feel like a living being again.

I was eager to return home; stepping in through the portal, my living room greeted me exactly the way I left it the day I went to work, a few books scattered on the couch, my fleece blanket hanging halfway off the couch. Stephen hovered behind me as I set my bag down on the table, immediately surveying the state of my plants and my altar.

"Do you need, um, help with anything?" He was fidgeting, all but vibrating behind me.

Apparently, Sam had talked some sense into the wizard because he stopped by a few times since that day, for a short small-talk or a cup of coffee, the kicked puppy look back on full display.

I told Sam off, of course, saying that I was an adult and so was Strange, but something in his knee-jerk reaction told me that he was so used to playing referee, it didn't even register with him that I might be able to handle my own business. I told Sam that much, taking his hand in me: I wanted a friend, not a parent, not a therapist. It went pretty smoothly.

"No, not really," I figured I could water my own plants and vacuum my own floors. My phone buzzed at that moment, a number saved in my phone as "Tony 😎" coming through with an absolutely outrageous message.

"I'm bringing pizza in 20. You better have Netflix. Tell Dumbledore to pick up his phone."

I promptly thrust the phone in Stephen's face, who instantly developed an equally annoyed and fond expression, as he searched the numerous pockets of his robe for the sleek, light StarkPhone. "Resistance is futile," he sighed, sitting down on the couch as I went to change into something fresh and water my plants while Stephen flicked through my Netflix. I heard him mutter to himself: "Grey's anatomy? Sixth season? Oh my God," with the tone of a man tortured.

"I had a roomie in college who majored in Medical History," I snorted. "When she had a bad day, she'd absolutely pick apart every single thing in the show. From the doctor's misconduct to the way a surgeon was holding the scalpel," I explained, seeing Stephen's eyes sparkle with amusement. "She was absolutely vicious and it was the most hilarious thing."

The sorcerer stroked his chin, leaning back into the couch. "That's acceptable. All medical shows are rubbish," he stated firmly. His phone beeped, causing him to sigh and conjure up a portal within seconds, in the corner of my apartment I had aptly designated to be the landing pad to myself. Tony stepped in, a bottle of wine and three steaming pizza boxes in hand. Smiling at his boyfriend, Stephen turned to me with a curious look: "What did you major in?"

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