#tony gives Peter Serious Life Lessons

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (04x05)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 4 Episode 05: Gravity

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of the housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: just a little heart to heart embarrasment

Word Count: my boss is pissed and I am riding on the cloud of giving zero fucks on the weekend

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The camera walked down the hallway of the hotel the Avengers were vacationing in, slowing down its pace on seeing Loki and Peter cross each other to go to their rooms. “Code?” Loki asked casually. “Pineapples,” Peter replied without a second thought and both went their way. The camera stood there for a few seconds, waiting.  After a contemplating silence of about twenty seconds, Loki came out of his room in a blue tee and black pyjama with his hair back in a ponytail and knocked on the door next to him. “Y/N, I need my sleeping mask,” he announced, waiting for you to answer.  The camera came over to focus on his side, catching his attention. "She's in her room, right?" Loki asked the camera. Javier signed something from behind the camera. Loki knocked a little louder this time. "Y/N? My sleeping mask?" A muffled sound came from inside the room, leading to the God's furrowed brows and his body leaning in to listen better.

The camera could not catch anything when it came to the noise Loki was looking for. But it did catch the sudden change in Loki's eyes, his pupils going a little wide before he stepped back from the door and waved his hand to unlock it. No time was wasted to barge in and look for you. The camera entered behind him, catching the bed in its frame before focusing on your legs on the floor on the other side, wriggling. Painful winces came from the other side that the camera could not seem to walk towards, instead, freezing there until Loki caught its attention. "Javi. Hey! Javi," the camera shifted to Loki's serious demeanour in full command, "you know what to do." The camera ran outside, locking the door behind him, and standing guard. The lens tried to catch any incoming threats, while Javi's mildly rattled breaths gave it the background noise. A minute passed. The background noise calmed down. The corner of the lobby was suddenly filled with soft bickering. "...see this is the reason no one wants to play tag with you," Clint turned up at the corner, walking in this direction with Natasha. "No one plays with me because they know I'm great at-" "Slicing throats and punching their innards out, yes. Absolutely," Clint chuckled, finally locking eyes with Javi's camera. "That too," Natasha added with a smirk before giving Javi a 'sup' nod. "What're you doing here, Javi? Outside Y/N's room?" Javi signed something. "Chillin'?" Natasha frowned down at the boy. "Why? Did she finally throw you out because of your annoying habit of following her everywhere?" Clint forced out a laugh. "Oh, I know someone she can definitely force out of her life," he murmured loud enough for the audience to hear.  Eventually, that laugh turned into a slight concern. Clint looked at the boy behind the camera and raised his brow. "Where's Loki?" Javi signed something again, this time recording the moderately disgusted look from both the Avengers. "You really should take acting lessons," Clint advised and Natasha nodded, the former already going for the door to your room. The camera rushed behind them along with the nervous squeak of Javier's shoes. And it found a very serious God sitting at the edge of the bed, trying to finish the latest quest on his League of Legends game over the screen while you snored on the bed, one leg halfway bent, one arm in the air and your hair the absolute mess as it always was.  The lens walked around to the other side of the bed to take in the 'better' view of your drool covering the pillow, also catching a very irritated Clint and a somewhat bored Natasha in better lighting. "He does know he can play video games in his own room," Clint's whisper was almost a hiss through his teeth. Natasha rolled her eyes and shared a look with the camera. Your own loud snore woke you up from your supposedly deep sleep. "The blue one is my fraand," you croaked before opening your eyes and looking at the crowd in your hotel room. "Hey," Natasha greeted you. You greeted her back before getting up with the tangled crown of your tresses.  "What time is it?" you asked whoever heard you, your hand finding your neck buried in sweat.  While Clint looked at his watch, you wiped the sweat off the side of your temples before scooting towards Loki and resting one side of your face on his back. The touch seemed to bring out one stretched from you. "Time for you to go learn some waltz," Clint announced, being physically stopped by Natasha's grip from kicking the God away. You heard him. You hummed in response; eyes closed. Still resting on Loki's back. And the God didn't seem to mind at all. But someone else did. Natasha gently twisted Clint's hand on his back and came closer to his ear. "Let it go, Clint."

Clint: *pissed* Over. My. Dead. Body. *eyes something behind the camera* *takes a step back* *and another* I meant it metaphorically *runs away* Natasha appears to be seen slowly following him with an axe in her hand.

"Come to the ballroom for waltz lessons," Natasha stated, taking Clint away. The camera followed them to the door, watching Clint still bicker in the hallway before Javier closed the room and came back to you still resting in the same position. "Five more minutes," you muttered, "your back is so cold." The controller and the hand that gripped it dropped in his lap as he turned his face to look at yours. "Would you like it hot?" Your head shifted a bit to let your eyes meet his.  And they did meet.  The morning sun directly hit Loki's features and reflected the sunlight from his pale skin unto yours, lighting up your y/e/c eyes.  The gentle stare elongated with the synced breaths. The trance that seemed to build up in the warmth of the morning sun felt deeper with every passing moment until you heard your throat letting out a winced 'hm?'  Loki blinked. So did you. You lifted your cheek away from his shoulder, and suddenly realised the closeness of his face to yours.  "Don't humans prefer heat to cold?" Loki asked, scratching an itch at the back of his neck. "Yeah-" you tucked your hair behind your ear- "but not when they're sweating like..." you trailed off, licking your lips and looking into the distance. 

You: *still looking at some distant void* *biting your nail* *whisper* so many great ways to sweat. *snap out of your void* *slap yourself*

You put on the hotel slippers and rushed to the bathroom. "I'll go get ready for the waltz lesson. Are you coming? I mean...to the waltz...thing." "I know how to Waltz." "Of course, you do," you whisper to yourself and hurry inside the bathroom to close the door and smack yourself in the head. The muted shriek at the embarrassment of the beautiful moment lasts for about five seconds before you realise the camera is seeing everything through the modern architecture's gift of the glass wall.  God bless see-through washrooms.

The Evening Ball The hall was nearly as big as the one back home. With a theme of yellow and blue, the place was illuminated with starry lights, aromatised with the smell of marigolds, wrapped in curtains with lavish yet sustainable fabrics and surrounded with many delectable snacks.  Even more surprisingly, the crowd only consisted of recognisable faces; the ones close to Tony Stark. No media, no cameras except for the documentary crew, and no outsiders. Just family.  As per the theme, all our men were dressed in waltz-worthy suits, the length of their jackets just a smidge from sweeping the floors just like they were sweeping the ladies off their feet tonight. And our ladies were dressed to impress too. impress themselves, that is. The cameras were catching all the angles for future thirst trap reels and tik-toks. Wanda's backless red gown had little firey shimmers at the edges, quite positively a touch of her personal magic. The sleeves ran out to her wrist and covered her neck, both ends running a deeper red than the rest of the dress, almost matching her boyfriend's happy tones. Pepper's blue maternity gown was a happy colour on her. She sat at one of the tables with the best view of the hall with Tony right by her side, making sure she had everything she needed. From 'virgin' mimosas to breadsticks and tiramisu. One of the cameras found you trying to inconspicuously enter through one of the side doors, but your purple gown with the generous flare was hard to miss. The off-shoulder gown was being, again and again, adjusted as discreetly as possible as you met everyone.  Sam was the first to hype your nervous self, bringing a smile to your initially tense face. Then Natasha sauntered over to you in her black mermaid gown, digging her fingers into the back of your dress. You did let out a yelp at her cold hands but stood very still when you realised she was doing something with the dress. When she took her hands out and ordered you to test it out, it ended up with you ultimately flailing your arms quite freely, Ned, Peter and Scott joining you without explanation. Another camera focused on Clint snickering while standing next to Rhodey. "I'm telling you he is going to look like a clown!" he continued giggling while Rhodey shook his head. "The lacey wristbands and the lacy cravat. His dinner jacket's been floofed up with frill," Clint chuckled as sipped his champagne. Rhodey's resting face shared a look with the camera.  "You remember when he wore Scott's ugly sweater for the Christmas dinner?" The chuckle diluted with a little furrow in Clint's brows. He licked the front of his teeth and blinked. "Yeah?" "That sweater was declared the disaster of the century." Clint shrugged, not understanding the point. Rhodey sighed and looked past Clint, a smirk growing on his lips. "If that sweater could not stop him, you think a fluffy formal attire will? You are highly mistaken, buddy." Before Clint to pipe in, Rhodey pointed to the entrance. As if on queue, the orchestra for the night- consisting of a recognisable DJ and a band by the name Galdive- played the slowed version of Heir encore and wack jumper mix.  Loki stepped down the entrance to have all eyes on him. The lace and frills peeked out of his velvet maroon coat, complementing his tone quite well. The high boots fit just right. Three little braids on his left side ran to the back into his open, perfectly blow-dried voluminous hair. And to add to the aura of charisma dripping off him, he had added a little bow and arrow brooch to his coat, making Clint roll his eyes and Natasha guffaw. Another camera turns to catch your reaction.  Scott causally signalled you to look towards the entrance. You turned to look only to find out Loki was looking in your direction too. You passed a quick smile before turning back to Scott and Ned, pursing your lips to hide the inhale that was building into something intense in your chest. The smile building on your lips was veiled by that forced furrow in your brows and quick clearing of your throat. "Should we get something to drink, Ned?" The camera focused on Loki staring at Peter, who was joining the God to walk towards the centre of the hall.  "Code?" the God asked, just like he did in the morning. "Oranges." the spider boy replied nonchalantly whipping the tail of his coat back just as the violin note from the band announced the guests to come to the floor for a dance. The piano opened up the floor, with Tony asking for your hand to lead you to the dance.  "I have not seen you enough these days, have I?" Tony was quick to comment as you let him guide you to the line.  "Because Pepper needs all your attention, as it should be," you quipped before facing him and positioning your hands. "FYI I still suck at this waltz." Ned and Peter started the sequence next to you. Steve and Bucky paired up and so did Wanda and Vision. Loki, surprisingly, brought Natasha to the lineup.  "Has something been taking up your attention lately?" Tony wondered out loud as he twirled you for the first time, confusing you a bit. "Or someone?" The camera caught your pupils going wide. And the next thing you know, you were looking at the circle to find the face that has been taking up all your attention. "Someone in college?" Tony smirked and wiggled his brows a bit. You snickered. "No, seriously. Is there someone? Do I need to do background checks? Because anyone who is impressing you enough to date you better go through trials of hell before getting serious with you. Do I need to send security with you to college? Do I need to check the camera footage-" "No!" You nearly screamed, catching Tony by surprise. "There is someone," you whispered before Tony gave you another twirl. The man's breath was caught in his throat as he looked at the nearest camera with a flicker of fear in his eyes.

Tony: *inhales deeply* that was fast

"...in college. But you are not going to go through the footage. You have to respect my decision and some personal boundaries. Promise me, dad." Reluctantly, Tony made a promise and both of you stepped to opposite sides to gracefully raise your arms before turning in. But before you could turn, Natasha grabbed your hand and forced you away from Tony. "Switch with me," she declared, not even giving you time to realise what was happening. Tony was as shocked as you to find a new partner.  "What the...Nat!" "You seemed like you were about to get a heart attack," Natasha stated.

The camera moved just as you switched your place and found your hand being gently guided by Loki towards himself.

I thought I will found myself in reality

"Y/N," Loki greeted you.  "I suck at Waltz," you greeted him back, realising what you just did there.  But Loki's chuckle seemed to melt that embarrassment away.

Spending my life with no company

"It's all right. Neither do I. Let's just do the four steps the instructor taught you in the morning," the God suggested, slowly placing his hand on your back and taking the other one in his own.

One day that confidence changed to uncertainty

Picking up the pace, you looked at Loki and let his little assuring nods calm your nerves a bit. 

With one little look, darling, now you are all I see

"You look beautiful," your voice smoothly erupted into a whisper out of nowhere. "I mean..." Loki was already smirking his signature smirk as he twirled you. Snap. Both of you heard it.  Loki quickly drew you closer just the way he twirled you out, his hand immediately going for your back. "Natasha had secured my..." you did not know how to go further with that sentence. Your lips wanted to curse so badly but all your face wanted to do was hide in Loki's jacket and never come out of it. "Do you trust me?"

If my life depends on the Earth And the Earth depends on the gravity

The camera caught both of you still moving in the motions of the dance but Loki was now dancing closer to you than required by the dance. The shock in your eyes was visible to the lens. So was this burning intensity in Loki's. "Do you trust me, Y/N?"

Then my gravity is

"Blindly," you replied without missing a beat. The camera was sure it saw a flutter of something on Loki's face before he took your right hand and pushed it inside his jacket to let you hold onto the fabric. "When I say 'now', you twirl. Don't let go of the velvet." You nodded without question.  "Now." You twirled. So did Loki; graciously pulling out of his jacket in the first round out and then circling around you to pull it over your arms, successfully covering you before the ill-fitted corset came apart. 

You You Is you

Neatly buttoning you up in the front, Loki had already found a use for the corset he had magically switched before you could make sense of the absence of it on your body. "Nice bodice, mon cheri," Scott gestured at the purple corset over Loki's white shirt. If anyone could carry it in the room, it was Loki. Mostly because Tony was having a mid-life crisis.

If my life depends on the Earth And the Earth depends on the gravity

"Better?" Loki asked with a weighted tone. You looked up at him. The camera focused on this stillness on your face before you looked out into the crowd to look directly at the lens, your eyes at a loss for emotions.

You: *tears welling up in your eyes* *whisper in a laugh* better? *stress* Better? *unable to stop the sob*

Then my gravity is You You

Later that Night Ned, Peter and Scott lounged outside the hall to soak in the view of the midnight sea. All three of them had a glass of Margherita in their hand while the camera sat a few feet behind them.  "By the way, guys-" Ned interrupted himself from taking another leisurely sip from the straw and furrowed his brows a bit- "why did we all waltz in the hall tonight?" Scott and Peter paused their sips and looked at each other. "I think it was Tony's idea," both said in unison without thinking further about it. Ned looked at his company and pondered on some stray thoughts. "Wow, I kinda wish to become like Mr Stark. He's really cool." His company hummed in agreement. "Also," Scott added, "did you guys notice how Natasha switched places with Y/N so smoothly?" Ned and Peter agreed with low cheers. "And, oh my God, Y/N and Loki looked so good dancing together?" Peter quipped.  "And and the way they were all cutesy and blushy with each other?! Are these two a thing?" Suddenly Ned could not hold his excitement. "We are wishing," Scott and Peter said in unison before searching for wood around them to knock it thrice. Silence came back with just the noise of the waves.  "And I mean-" Scott broke the silence with a playful smirk on his face- "that smartass of a God could have easily switched the jacket and that bodice with his magic." "Right?! That's what I was thinking!" Ned gasped, almost jumping from his chair. "Showoff," Peter chuckled. Scott and Ned joined in.

[themculibrary]

Mature Rated Fics Masterlist

part two

A Marriage of Inconvenience (ao3) - WhinyWingedWinchester loki/tony, natasha/thor, odin/frigga M, 80k

Summary: Forced into an arranged marriage with Prince Loki of Aysgarth, Tony knows that he is not the ideal husband to the son of a king, but he still hopes that he might find true love with his husband like the stories he loves to read of adventures and happily-ever-afters.

Prince Loki, however, does not wish to be married, and he makes this clear to Tony even after their vows have been said before the priest. Life is no better for Tony in Castle Aysgarth than it was back in Iron Reach - he is as unwanted by Loki as he was by his father.

But slowly, things change. There is a steadily growing affection between them, something that might, perhaps, grow into more and Tony can only hope his love for Loki might one day be returned.

But then an assassin strikes unexpectedly, pirates attack, and Tony very well might be living an adventure from one of his books, but it looks like happily-ever-after might be too much to hope for.

Anew. (ao3) - IViv tony/stephen M, 130k

Summary: In death, there was no glory, no redemption, no salvation.

Only darkness and ice—or that was what Tony thought. He closed his eyes in a Siberian bunker and opened them again on his 41st birthday, with War Machine flying into the distance.

Born For This - Capsicle2013 steve/tony M, 71k

Summary: Being an Avenger was something he always wanted, but for some reason his parents didn't want that for him. He just wishes they could see what he sees.

Branded (ao3) - KandiSheek bucky/steve/tony M, 40k

Summary: Every child is born with two marks, one from their mother and one from their father. They say that each mark represents a lesson your soulmates will teach you, that you can gain more and more as you go through life.

Tony was born with four. They said he was destined for greatness. If this is what greatness looks like then Tony doesn’t want it.

catching bullets in our teeth - anothercover clint/natasha M. 77k

Summary: Retirement, it turns out, is not a thing that Clint is adjusting to very well. Or, you know, at all. It didn’t occur to him that when he dropped the team, it would mean he’d lose Natasha, too.

[Begins pre-CACW, through the events of it, and into the aftermath. Otherwise known as: the slow-burn divorce fic we didn’t know we needed.]

Fate Will Play Us Out - steveandbucky steve/bucky M, 30k

Summary: Bucky has landed himself a job with Stark Industries. He doesn't know yet that the job is actually being the PR manager for the Avengers.

Bucky has also started dating Steve Rogers. He also doesn't know yet that Steve is Captain America.

Bucky's life is about to get a whole lot more exciting.

From Where We Began (ao3) - RunningInThePouringRain steve/tony M, 42k

Summary: When Steve returns the stones he knows he is going to stay in 2012. This is the only chance he has. He can do better there. He knows what he needs to change so when Thanos comes, he and Tony are standing side by side. The only thing he didn't plan on was confronting his own feelings for Tony Stark.

(Or the fix it fic where Steve arrives in 2012 and tries to rewrite MCU canon in order to save Tony Stark).

In the Early Dawn (ao3) - starspangledsprocket steve/tony M, 3k

Summary: Steve and Tony have to share a bed. They use this as an opportunity to talk. Talking leads to more.

just friend things (ao3) - flying_snowmen mj/peter M, 5k

Summary: Peter doesn’t bring anything up at dinner even though May is giving him some serious side eye and can’t stop looking at him with that contemplative look of hers. And then, while he’s washing the dishes and handing them to her to dry, she asks, nonchalant as she can manage, “So when did you and Michelle start dating?”

“MJ and I are just friends.”

Or, a story in which Peter and Michelle insist that they are just friends, to the belief of no one around them.

Just Keep Trying 'til You Run Out of Cake (ao3) - K_R_Closson bucky/clint M, 11k

Summary: Clint Barton sometimes has a name on his wrist. Sometimes he has a couple letters. Sometimes he doesn't have anything at all. By the time he's an adult and working for SHIELD, he figures his soulmate is a ghost. Figures he's never going to meet whoever it is.

He's got it half right.

Kick at the Darkness 'Til it Bleeds Daylight (ao3) - NyxEtoile, OlivesAwl sharon/steve M, 6k

Summary: Sharon Carter finally drew her gaze away from whatever spot in the middle distance had interested her so. She gave her partner a look as if she'd scraped him off her shoe, then turned to Steve and her face went blank again. She held out her hand, showing Steve a very official looking piece of paper. "Orders from the UN Security Council. We need to confiscate the listed Avenger related weapons."

He didn't need to take it to read it. "You want my shield?" he asked. Also Sam's wings. Not, he noticed, Stark's suit.

"All listed weapons," she repeated neutrally.

Kick Off Your Sunday Shoes (ao3) - leiascully natasha/steve M, 38k

Summary: Natasha thought it was a shame that Steve had never been dancing (among other things).

Kings of Everything (ao3) - glittercake sam/bucky M, 6k

Summary: Twenty-five years after the events at a popular New York Bistro, Timothy DumDum Dugan tells the true story of infamous mobster Jimmy Buchanan and the man he gave it all up for.

leave the gun on the table (ao3) - Myrime steve/tony, bruce/thor, bucky/natasha M, 185k

Summary: Tony meets his soulmate under the worst possible circumstances. It is not just a kidnapping gone wrong. It turns out Steve and his gang picked him on purpose and they want some personal revenge. If only he had managed to say the words written on his soulmate’s arm before they threw him back out into the streets.

Left Foot Forward (ao3) - shatteredhourglass bucky/clint M, 22k

Summary: There was an unspoken rule among the Avengers that they didn't talk about Clint's soulmark. They didn't talk about it, they didn't look at it, and they didn't bring it up.

life in cinematic haze (ao3) - shatteredhourglass bucky/clint M, 13k

Summary: They get closer and Bucky gets a better look at the man, thinks maybe Sam had been expecting an archer in purple instead of a sword-wielder in black. The thing is, he met Hawkeye years ago, at an airport with his bow in hand and his head held high. They hadn’t spoken to each other but Bucky had seen the resolve, the vibrant life streaming from him as he’d given Steve a tight smile and pulled out an arrow.

He hadn’t met this.

Our Shattered Past (ao3) - Elenduen bucky/tony M, 159k

Summary: Bucky survives the snap, survives to see two-thirds of the universe die, half turning to ash, the others killed because those others turned to ash. He follows Steve back to America and the Avengers compound struggling to try and make sense of everything that has happened. Then Tony Stark returns to earth, broken, sick, desolate. Bucky feels he owes Tony for what he did to his parents, he wants to find a way to make amends and the only way he think to do that is to act as protection for Tony while he slowly recovers from his time in space.

Tony couldn't care less what happens to him now. He failed, Peter is gone, two-thirds of the Universe is gone, why should he care if he lives or dies now? he is determined to help others while he can though and if that means Barnes is following him around then he can help too.

What neither expect is a relationship to blossom between them or the family that blooms out of the ashes of their shattered pasts.

Painted in Indigo (ao3) - nekare steve/bucky M, 11k

Summary: “You should be careful of that one,” Mr. Hendrickson says, with a nod to Bucky outside the window. “It ain’t right. Looking at you all the time as he does. The way he should be looking at girls.”

Steve laughs, because damn, but what a ridiculous idea.

Or, five times Steve caught Bucky looking at him, and the one time he looked first.

Such Sweet Revenge (ao3) - ali_aliska bucky/tony M, 167k

Summary: When the Rogues are back in the States after being pardoned, the New Avengers want nothing to do with them and as far as Tony is concerned, if he never speaks to them again, it'll be too soon. After all, he didn't spend the last year putting himself (and his family) back together only for his former co-workers to ruin all of his hard work.

But then he gets a hand-written letter from the Winter Soldier himself, apologizing for the events that transpired and an off-handed comment from Rhodey about Rogers failing to take care of an obviously miserable Bucky Barnes sets in motion Tony's new, oh-so-evil plan to get some payback.

After all, what better revenge than to steal the Winter Soldier away from his best friend?

The only problem: Tony sucks at being vengeful, but apparently he's an expert at inadvertently falling in love.

While You Were Sleeping (ao3) - Brenda steve/bucky M, 45k

Summary: Bucky wakes up from cryo to find himself in a world without Steve - and that's just the beginning of his problems.

[itsallavengers]

Please write a short fic about tony catching peter drinking i would die omg

“Hey, Peter,” 

He froze, eyes widening as he heard the all-too-familiar sound of expensive leather brogues scuffing along the floor a few meters from him, and he turned quickly, brow furrowed into a deep V as he watched Tony wander up to him, all smiles and casual posture, hands buried in the pockets of his grease-stained jeans. He looked like he’d come straight from the workshop, stopping only to throw on a leather jacket along the way.

Why he was here at all, however, made no sense at all.

“T- Mr Stark,” Peter said, trying to communicate with him through eyebrow movements alone. If it turned out that he had to suit up and help out somewhere, he was pretty fucked, considering the fact he’d had a bit to drink at the party he’d been invited to.

Well. He said ‘a bit’. It was possibly more accurate to say ‘a fucking shit-ton’, but whatever.

Tony looked at him blankly, before shooting another smile toward the circle of people who were stood around Peter and staring quite blatantly at the both of them. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen, I’m afraid I have to take Mr Parker away. He’s an intern at Stark Industries, you know how it is. Lots of work, yadda yadda, okay bye,”

And before Peter could even open his mouth, Tony had grabbed him by the arm and snatched the solo cup out of his hand almost angrily, pulling him away from the group of people and through the crowds of rowdy teenagers that littered the huge house.

“Uh, Mr Stark, wha’dd’ya want me for, exactly?” Peter asked, speaking loudly above the blaring music and wincing at how slurred his voice came out.

It had been a weird month, okay. He was just trying it out. 

Tony paused, and Peter saw him purse his lips even tighter before beginning to walk again, guiding Peter through the crowds and holding him tight as he stumbled a little.

“Hey, Parker, leaving so soon?” Flash called out from somewhere to his left, and Peter stopped turning to face him as the other boy wandered toward them. “We haven’t even begun yet, Jesus, are you a pussy or what-”

“Kid,” and suddenly Tony had let go, spinning around and walking up to Flash, who seemed to suddenly recognise who exactly Tony was, because his eyes went hilariously wide and he stumbled backward a few steps. Peter snorted involuntarily, and he saw Tony turn briefly, before shaking his head and looking back to Flash, “it seems like you’re having an absolute ball here, but I’m gonna say something and I’m only going to say it once.”

Tony looked down at Flash, eyes harsh as he drew a little closer. ��Leave. Peter. Out of it. Do you understand? He is not here for you to manipulate, not here for you to bully into trying out crazy shit for your amusement-”

“Tony, what the fuck,” Peter blurted, frowning and stepping forward, more than a little put out. He’d only just managed to get accepted by Flash and all the other popular kids, and Tony was just going in, ruining it all, “you’re not my dad- don’t tell me or my friends what I can and can’t do.”

Tony turned, eyebrows raised. “Friends?” He snorted, shaking his head and walking over to Peter once more, taking him by the arm. “You haven’t called in with Aunt May for two days now,” he hissed into Peter’s ear, “she’s worried sick. You are coming with me, right now.”

“No ‘m not,” Peter pushed his hand off, looking over at Tony in anger. “You are fucking….embarrassing me…. in fron’ of my friends-”

“They are not your friends!” Tony snarled, pulling his arm again, “your friends are all currently at home, worrying their asses off because this is not like you, Peter, and they didn’t know what to fucking do, so they ended up calling me. Now you will fucking follow me out of this goddamn place right now, or I am hauling you out.”

(Read more, mobile users!)

Tony looked absolutely furious, and Peter opened his mouth to snap back, but Tony shook his head. “Do not test me, Peter,” he warned. There was something about his tone that made Peter, even in his halfway-to-wasted state, know that Tony was not fucking around.

He got the sense he was going to be in deep shit with everyone when he left this building.

“I hate you,” he mumbled, keeping his head down and trying to ignore all the whispering teenagers as Tony walked through them all, firmly holding on to Peter’s arm as he went.

He felt humiliated. He’d just been at a party. What the fuck was wrong with that? And Tony had just barged in there and dragged him out like…like he was Peter’s fucking dad or something. 

And now everyone was whispering.

Tony ignored them all, Peter included as he pulled them outside into the drive where about ten different people were ogling his Audi. 

“Hey, Parker, I thought you were staying ‘til Aaron could fetch the-”

“I strongly advise- unless you want me to call the cops down here- that you do not finish that sentence,” Tony told the girl speaking, looking grim as he opened the passenger door and took Peter by the back of his collar, pushing him inside when he failed to do so on his own.

“Get the fuck off me!” Peter snapped, batting Tony’s hand away angrily and folding his arms, trying to stave off the sudden wave of nauseousness that had overcome him.

“If you’re going to hurl, do it out of the window,” was all Tony said in response, before slamming the door and walking over to the driver’s side.

Peter muttered various curses under his breath, refusing to open the windows. He didn’t want everyone to see him. They’d just laugh.

Tony slid in a moment later, refusing to look at Peter as he switched on the engine and reversed out. His face was like thunder.

They were silent for all of ten seconds, before Peter burst out “okay, what the fuck is your problem.”

“Don’t swear at me, kid,” Tony replied quietly, hands gripping tightly to the wheel as he still refused to turn and shoot Peter even a sidelong glance.

“No, no, I feel like I’m allowed t’ swear in a… in a situation such as this,” Peter gestured around him, eyes narrowed as he shuffled on his ass until he was head-on with Tony’s profile. “You had absolutely no right to do what you just did- you don’t fuckin’ control my life, and you can’t jus’… jus’ track me whenever you feel like being an asshole! Will you just LOOK AT ME!” Peter yelled angrily, suddenly wishing he wasn’t quite so drunk, because he could barely see Tony in front of him and the world was spinning to fast for him to keep up with-

Suddenly, Peter was yanked forward as Tony braked harshly, pulling over and stopping the car with a jarring halt. He turned, and finally looked Peter in the eye

“I didn’t track you.” Tony said, voice beginning to shake a little as he lost whatever semblance of calm he’d been holding on to before. “You wanna know what happened? Ned called me,” 

Fuck, Peter hadn’t seen him this furious since the Ferry Accident- Tony was practically vibrating in the car, fingers gripping the steering wheel like it was a damn lifeline. “I got a fucking call from your friend Ned at 2 in the God Damn morning, worried sick because your stupid ass had drunk-dialled him and said a bunch of crazy shit to him about parties and alcohol and ‘finally having a shot at being one of the cool kids, Ned, it’s insane, Ned, they got all this weird stuff for me to do but I think it’s gonna be fun, Ned’.” Tony spat the last part like is was a curse, teeth gritted as he spoke through them.

Peter stopped, stomach slowly sinking. He… he couldn’t remember that one. Maybe he’d drank more than he thought.

“It was just a party,” Peter mumbled, “it’s not like you can talk. Everyone knows what you were like. So why the fuck are y-”

“Because you’re supposed to be better than me!” Tony whispered, and it was quieter now, Tony seemed… like the fight had just drained out of him, anger replaced with something that just looked like hopelessness. “You’re not supposed to…. you don’t need to do this…. people fucking care about you, you’ve got a reason not to….” he trailed off, shaking his head again before slamming his hands down on the wheel, anger returning almost as fast as it had dissipated. “I don’t know what the damn hell has gotten into you this past month, but it ends here. Now. And you do not go back down this road ever again, you understand?”

“You don’t get to tell me who I should and shouldn’t be,” Peter yelled right back, “I’m finally making some fucking friends, and you won’t stop m-”

“STOP CALLING THEM FRIENDS!”

Tony paused, shutting his eyes and rubbing a hand across his face. “You want to know what your ‘friends’ were chatting about when I stepped through the door? They were going to slip a nice little fucking K tablet into your next drink, just to see what you’d fucking do. They were aware of your crazy good athletics skills, and they thought it would be fucking funny to see you bouncing off the damn walls, high off your head.”

Peter froze. That…that couldn’t have been true.

Tony shook his head, smirking. It wasn’t a happy smirk, though. “Ketamine is garbage anyway. It just makes you see crazy shit and then you need to piss ten times in half an hour. They don’t even know their drugs well enough to pick the right one out, but they were more than willing to test them on you,” Tony shoved a finger into Peter’s chest.

There was silence; Tony staring grimly at Peter whilst he simply stared back, a little vacant. The words weren’t quite sinking in, and it seemed Tony was aware of that, because he just sighed again and pulled away. “I’m taking you home. You need to sleep whatever you have in your system off. Obviously you have a faster metabolism than most, so you should be fine, but I’ll-”

“Please don’t take me to Aunt May,” Peter blurted, suddenly aware of how upset it would make her if she saw him drunk off his ass on a Thursday morning. “Please, she… she’ll cry, and I don’… I don’ wanna upset her. please.”

Tony glared again, muttering something under his breath before starting the engine once more. “I said I’m taking you home, Peter, and I mean it. You brought this on. You deal with the fucking consequences.”

Peter felt a little like crying himself, to be honest. He’d been rather on edge the whole night, and really, this whole bust-up was just the icing on the fucking cake-

“I hate you,” he mumbled again, folding his arms and turning away so he was facing the window.

Lucky, really, because a second later, he threw up right out of it,

“This isn’ home,” Peter said, looking curiously out of the window as Tony pulled up into a massive garage full of cars, all costing more than Peter’s entire house.

“Nope,” Tony bit out, rolling to a stop in the nearest space and then pulling out the keys, slipping out of the door before Peter could even ask where they’d ended up.

The door Peter was leaning on suddenly gave way a moment later, and a hand shot out to catch him before he fell completely sideways. “Careful, kid- your reflexes have probably been muted by the alcohol. You’re gonna have to tread lightly, unless you plan on braining yourself on the tiles.”

“Urghhh,” Peter groaned, shutting his eyes and trying to ignore the steadily growing headache and desire to vomit again. “How’d’you ever do this, Christ.”

He felt Tony tense a little beside him as he helped Peter up. “Practise, mixed with no one else around to help me up,” he said, voice hard as he stared straight ahead of him once more, a hand around Peter’s waist as he pulled Peter’s arm over his shoulder.

Thankful of the rest, Peter let Tony take his full weight, shutting his eyes against Tony’s shoulder. He was still mad, but… he was tired, too, and Tony was wearing a nice warm sweater which felt nice against his cheek. “So where are we?”

“Tower,” Tony replied curtly.

Peter frowned. “Didn’t you sell this place ages ago?”

“I put it on the market ages ago,” Tony corrected, as he hauled them both toward the elevator, “but I’ve yet to tie down any serious bidders. For now, it’s still mine.”

Peter grunted, opening his eyes. 

Fuck. Mistake.

“Hurrgh, f’ck, ‘m gonna-”

Tony barely managed to hold on to him as Peter’s legs gave out and he vomited again, retching up bile and the contents of his stomach once more.

It was gross and painful and Peter was really really tired, the whole night had gone sort of horribly and he was just so fucking frustrated-

“Hey, hey, deep breaths. Get it all up, come on,” Tony spoke gently to his left, a hand rubbing soothingly against his back as he blinked back tears and threw up.

“Fuck,” he whispered again, once his stomach had quietened down. His arms were locked straight, but he felt the vague sensation as they began to buckle, and all he could think about was the mortifying concept of landing in a pile of his own vomit-

Something caught him by the back of his jacket, and he heard a grunt of exertion to his left again as Tony once more held tight and pulled him back up. It was softer than the last couple of times; more gentle and less angry, and when he was on his feet again, he felt the dizzy whirr as his head was pulled into a shoulder. Tony’s shoulder.

“Y’changed your tune,” Peter mumbled, as Tony brought his arms up and hugged Peter tightly.

“Oh, boy, if you think I’m not still furious, you got another thing coming,” Tony replied, “I’m just guessing you’ve been having a rough few weeks, that’s all.”

Peter bit his lip, letting weak arms clutch tight to the material of Tony’s sweater. “I’ve fucked up, haven’t I?”

Tony sighed, and squeezed a little tighter before letting go. “Yep. But we’re gonna fix it, okay? In the morning, though. For now- think you can walk?”

Peter nodded, but changed it to a shake as he looked at the route to the elevator. He could barely even see it; everything was spinning.

Tony huffed again. “Typical,” he said mutinously, before a sharp “if you vomit on me, I’m dropping you, capiche?”

Peter was just about to ask what he was talking about when suddenly Tony swept his legs out from underneath him, pulling him into an effortless bridal carry that would have been utterly mortifying in any other situation.

As it was, Peter was just glad he no longer had to face the challenge of having to make his legs agree with him anymore.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, head lolling back against Tony’s shoulder once more. “I didn’ mean what I said…before.”

Tony opened his mouth to speak, but deflated a second later, shaking his head once more. It seemed his damn neck hadn’t stopped moving since he’d laid eyes on Peter. “Yeah, kid, I know,” was all he replied with.

Peter didn’t remember anything else after that.

When he woke up, he was lying on the couch in what had been the Avenger’s communal living room, and Tony was curled up on the opposite armchair, watching daytime TV.

He tried to say something, but it only came out as an incoherent moan.

Tony’s head snapped over to him instantly, with what could almost be described as a battle-ready look in his eyes. “Peter? You okay, buddy?”

Unable to physically form the words without possibly projectile vomiting, he just nodded his head, curling a little further in on himself and shutting his eyes against the horribly blinding light of midday-

“Fuck!” Peter jerked, sitting up to the best of his abilities despite the horrific way his head complained. “I…school! Aunt May! I-”

“Called school, told them you needed a sick day. Called May, told her you’re with me,” Tony assured him, uncrossing his legs and getting to his feet. Wandering toward the coffee table, he bent down and picked up a glass of water, before twisting and offering it out to Peter. “Drink up” he ordered.

Peter eyed it a little dubiously. Tony just huffed in exasperation. “Believe me, kiddo, water is the best thing to take in this situation. Well- water and Advil, but you’d have to have more than the recommended dosage for it to work on you, and I don’t feel keen on putting anything else in that stomach of yours, so for now you’re just gonna have to tough it out. And drink up.”

Taking the glass in his hands, Peter took a tentative sip. His hands were still a little wobbly, but he felt better than he had last night, at least.

Tony was sat back on the armchair, staring at him. His eyes were dark and tired again- he didn’t look as if he’d slept at all last night.

Guilt sat heavy in Peter’s gut.

“You and me need to have a talk, buddy,” Tony said eventually, locking his fingers together and leaning forward, elbows resting on thighs. 

“It was just a party,” Peter said again; the same thing he’d told May the first time, the same thing he’d assured MJ the second time, the same thing he’d been yelling at Tony last night-

“Peter,” was all Tony said, voice quiet and eyes horribly understanding as he watched Peter’s ashen face from the couch.

There was silence for a few seconds, as Peter took another sip. 

“They’d been mean to me for so long, Tony. When they started inviting me places, I just… I just wanted to fit in. For once. Is that so bad?” He said, his voice all stupid and wobbly as he looked stubbornly at the coffee table.

There wasn’t a reply, but he heard another quiet sigh.

Of course Tony would be disappointed. They were so fucking different, Tony had never had this problem, he’d always been invited to the places, he’d always known the right people and talked the right talk and done the right thing, all the way through school.  Tony had never been laughed at, and even if he had, he would have just hit back ten times harder, taught them a lesson, not just stumbled over his words and blushed like a fucking idiot-

“I’m gonna tell you a story, Kid,” Tony said, and Peter jerked when he realised Tony had moved, and was now sliding down to the floor, his back up against the side of the couch. “And this is a real fitting story, full of good life lessons and morals, so listen up.”

Tony bit his lip, visibly appearing to steel himself as he took a harsh breath and stared ahead of him.

“There was a kid, once- shockingly similar to yourself in a lot of ways- who went through a pretty similar experience as you’re going through now, except maybe a year or two earlier,” he began, fingers tapping a nervous rhythm against the carpet as he spoke.

“He was too smart for everyone else, really. Not even in an egotistical sort of way- he just worked on a different level to everyone else. Too smart, too much stuff going on in his head, and just as much shit happening out of it. He was never normal. He never…got that part of life.” 

Tony’s nose wrinkled a little, and he pulled a face, “ugh, that sounds so fucking cringey, but just- just bear with me a second here, okay, I’m working on it-”

Peter, despite himself, giggled. “Take your time, I’m not exactly going anywhere.”

 Tony shot him a look, but it wasn’t one of disapproval, exactly- probably one sublevel down from that.

“Anyway,” he said, a little too loudly to be casual, “yeah. This kid, right. Really smart, but damn, did he make some fucked up choices. Choices that still stick with him today. Choices that are gonna stick with him for the rest of his life, because that’s the kind of fucked-up we’re talking here.”

Tony’s head leaned back against the side of the arm rest, and he stared at the ceiling. “He didn’t get on well at school, in the beginning. Graduated into college way too young, and no one took him seriously. If he wasn’t getting spat on by the older kids, he was just getting ignored. It sucked. And… and then, it seemed like things changed.”

Tony looked directly at him, and in that moment, Peter saw more of himself in Tony Stark than he’d ever seen in anyone else. “They invited me to a stupid party down at some girl’s house, Peter, and they told me I’d make loads of new friends if I made enough people laugh.”

“Come on, Parker- there’s a party downtown tonight, and people have been wondering if you wanna go. Might be a new chance for you to make some cool friends.”

“If you act like them, maybe they won’t be dicks to you.”

“Come on, it’s just one drink. Don’t be a loser.”

“So I went,” Tony continued, “I went down there and I made damn sure everyone knew my name by the end of the night. I did everything they asked me to- i drank everything they shoved in my face, smoked whatever blunt they passed ‘round, fucked whoever wanted to be fucked, because I was so damn desperate to be like them. To be accepted.” 

Tony stopped, shaking his head and then looking over to Peter. 

“Once you’re in that cycle, Peter, you don’t leave it. Ever. The drink? Drugs? It stops being something you do for fun. You realise it’s the only thing that can make you into the person you want to be, can make your brain just fucking shut up for a second and let you enjoy yourself. It becomes a necessity. I know more geniuses who have some sort of addiction than I know supervillains. And believe me, there are a lot of supervillains.”

Peter opened his mouth, unsure of what exactly to say, but wanting to try anyway. Tony, however, put up a finger to silence him, obviously not finished with his speech.

“Now here’s where our paths diverge,” he said, making a fork shape with his hands and looking up at Peter seriously. “You have only just touched upon this world. And you already know it’s not what it’s cracked up to be, right? So what you are going to do is step the fuck back. Re-evaluate. Learn from my mistakes, and stick with people who really care. Because you have that,” he said, almost like a plead, his face pained as he looked up at Peter from the floor. “You have people who are really there, for you. And Jesus, Peter, you gotta hold on to that with everything you got. That doesn’t come around often.”

“I know,” Peter said quietly, thinking fondly of Ned’s soft smile, or MJ’s persistently un-amused left eyebrow, always raised in judgement. “I know.”

Tony stopped- everything except his fingers, anyway- and stared at Peter for a long time before saying “If you continue, I’ll kill you. Seriously, I won’t watch you do that to yourself. Ever. You’re so much more than that.”

“You managed okay, in the end,” Peter said, mostly to himself. “Just, out of curiosity, what exactly would you do?”

Tony pointed a finger immediately to the window. “Well, for starts, there’d be no more swinging around New York in your fancy suit. I wouldn’t trust teenage me with an Ironman Suit if you paid me, and that applies to you, too. Also, you quite clearly can’t handle your drink, if last night was anything to go by, so it’s not like you’d be fit to go fighting villains whilst in that state.”

“Hey, in all fairness, I did have a hell of a lot yesterday,” Peter defended himself.

 although from the glare Tony sent him, he guessed it would have been better to keep his mouth shut. 

“Not something to be proud of, Pete,” he warned, getting to his feet and stretching. “God, I’m tired. You know how stressful it is, staying up all night to make sure your idiot kid doesn’t choke on his own vomit,”

Peter froze. So did Tony.

“You know what I meant,” Tony stammered, waving a hand across his face and acting nonchalant as he stepped off in the direction of the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Peter smiled, unable to stop the warm feeling that was spreading through his heart. “I know what you mean.”

Tony made a few more indignant-sounding noises from the kitchen, and there were a few bangs of cupboards before Tony finally declared; “we officially have no food. Although, that’s not a surprise. No one lives here, after all.”

At the mention of food, his stomach gave a betraying growl which felt almost as painful as the headache. Peter was pretty sure Tony heard it from all the way in the kitchen, because there was yet another sigh of exasperation.

“Because I am a brilliant person, I will go and grab us some breakfast. Or lunch. Whatever,” Tony said, stepping back out into the living room and grabbing his wallet from the table. “Remote’s on the table. Phone in my jacket pocket. Apology phone-calls strongly suggested. Thanks to my quite frankly stunning persuasion skills, Aunt May isn’t expecting you back until later tonight, so you have time to relax and pull through the hangover before your ultimate demise when she does finally get hold of you.”

Tony stopped by his side, and looked down at him, squeezing his shoulder tight. “Don’t do that to me again, Peter. Please.”

Peter nodded. “I promise.” 

He meant it.

[spicler-man]

tony/the avengers come to midtown

masterlist here

With Kind Regards and Completely Serious Warning by jennylarner

All in all, that’s my kid, so leave him alone or you’ll have me to deal with.

With kind regards and completely serious warning,

Tony Stark.

-

When shots are fired at Midtown Tech during the school's fortnightly assembly, Peter knows (or, is reminded by Ned) who he needs to call. Leading to everyone finding out just what Tony and Peter's relationship really looks like.

Every Fifteen Minutes by a_matter_of_loyalty

“In honor of Peter Benjamin Parker,” the obituary reads. “2001 - 2017. Peter B. Parker, 16, died on the 5th of February, 2017, as a result of injuries sustained in a car crash involving a drunk driver…”

Tony can't finish reading. He swears his heart stops. “FRIDAY,” he croaks.

He doesn’t have to finish the order; FRIDAY, as if reading his mind, activates his Iron Man suit and sends it to envelop his body. Tony is shooting through the skies before he even fully realizes it.

OR: Peter Parker was in a car crash—except... he wasn’t. One forgetful Spider-Kid, one sleepy best friend, and one misleading post on social media all lead to a disastrous turn of events, culminating in the arrival of an unexpected guest at Midtown High.

Trust Fall by QueenofInsanity

When Peter had found out that Tony Stark would be giving a STEM talk to 5 schools in the district and that Midtown was one of them, he had had a bad feeling about it. But it had been because he thought that Tony would find a way to inevitably embarrass him. It hadn’t been that a shooter would turn up and take Tony hostage.

that time the Avengers crashed Peter's school by kayylit

“Dude.” Ned looked baffled. “The Avengers, man! The Avengers are coming here today!”

Peter blanked, rerunning Ned’s words through his daunted brain, grasping at whittling hope that he had misheard. He hadn’t. His hearing was perfect.

I'm Here, Mr. Stark by Lydia_Phantom

Tony Stark has a panic attack, fortunately Peter Parker is always ready to help, even if he is in the middle of the lesson in school.

you're still young (that's not your fault) by hopeless_hope

Being a superhero? Hard. Being a superhero in high school? Harder. Luckily, he's got Iron Man on his side.

or

Five times Tony goes to Peter's school and one time Peter goes with him to work.

Career Day by superhusbands4ever (Potterwatch97)

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Peter’s enhanced senses picked up the familiar voice from outside the door. “I had a meeting this morning and then I got lost looking for the class… anyway, I’m here for Peter? Peter Parker?”He frowned at hearing his name, still unsure what exactly was going on. He watched as his teacher continued to stand and stare out the door for a minute before seemingly remembering herself and taking a step back.“Of course! If you could just go sit next to him until your turn, he’s in the back on the right side.”The man stepped through the door and Peter gaped with the rest of the class as Tony Stark, in his signature suit and goatee, sporting a pair of red sunglasses and carrying a suitcase walked through the door.~Prompt: Okay but what abt Tony going in to Peter’s school for career day? Like where the parents talk abt their jobs?

Bring Your Superhero to School Day by sentient_bees

It's Career Day at Peter's school, and May is busy. Enter Tony Stark.

IronDAD To Career Day by Wowie_Lamo

May is unable to go to Career day at Peter's school. Tony decides to show up.

Let This Moment Be the First Chapter by ephemeralstark for wherermysocks

Peter Parker: intern, Spider-Man, has never met Tony Stark in his life.

Tony Stark: has to do a speech at Midtown, knocks a bully down a peg or two, almost gets shot but is saved by...his intern?

mishaps at midtown by OnlyForward 

there was, naturally, a reason that Principal Morita, Peter’s high school principal, had a vendetta against Tony Stark. and that was mainly due to the numerous amount of times the billionaire visited the school.

aka a 5+1 of the times Tony Stark came to Midtown School of Science and Technology (including but not exclusive to: midtown science fair, the annual parent teacher conference and a meeting with the principal)

Just Another FRIDAY (5+1) by Sara (ctrsara) 

This is a stand alone fic. Not part of anything else I've done. :) Tony and May officially adopt Peter to make sure Peter also has legal claim to him if anything goes sideways (with Ross, mostly). Obviously, Peter wants to stay at his Midtown with his friends. To keep him safe, Tony simply installs FRIDAY in the school. Lots of busybody-ing, some helpfulness, a bit of hilarity, and a little saving-the-day ensue. Ned's POV. Because why not?

Or

Five Times FRIDAY Flew Under the Radar, and One Time She Didn’t

Prompt: @idk-bruh-20's Irondad fic ideas #91

5 Times Midtown Staff Realized Peter Knew an Avenger by Nexas_Hart 

+1 Time the Entire World Found Out 

[yourmcu]

Forgotten [DISCONTINUED]

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)

Request: 

Hello i love your story could you do angsty tony x daughter reader. Wherein the reader has a twin brother and Tony and the avengers prefer the twin brother and becaus of that, the reader became rebel and badass. She always getting trouble and almost drop out student. The avengers and her father were seem disappointed and dont know what to do. Not until the reader involve into car accident and she's critical injured. The reader also slipped to coma. Everyone is devastated about the reader conditione. And they realized that the reader only rebel because she wants to get attention from them. It depends to you what the end come, I just want a full angst this week and I hope you dont mind my English. Anyway I hope your alright.

Word count: 1,627

A/n: (to anon: I’d like to apologize for not finishing this) I don’t think I have any intention to anymore tbh so- I’m just posting this for fun now lmaolmao

hella big update: the continued version is here!

Warnings: bad angst and writing hee hee. no I’m serious this is bad

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

Being a genius/billionaire/superhero’s kid doesn’t always sound nice like it usually does.

You were one of the Stark twins, the other half being your brother, Ethan.

The both of you showed signs that you inherited the commonly known Stark trait (intelligence) at a young age. But Tony mostly focused on his son, showing him all his inventions and gadgets, teaching him everything he knew while you on the other hand, were being babysat by Happy or Pepper, sometimes Rhodey.

You tried so hard to get your father’s attention but he always had his excuses:

“I don’t have time for that.”

“I’m busy with Ethan right now.”

“Maybe later.”

At first you didn’t mind if your brother got all the praise and attention. It wasn’t until your mid-teens that you really started to feel left out and ignored.

You were left to frown when the other Avengers never found anything interesting about you, just like Tony did. They all liked Ethan better. The topic of him being the next Iron Man when Tony retires is getting exhausting.

There was this one time when Tony announced that they were all going out to dinner since Ethan got, yet again, a full set of A’s on his report card.

“Did you get my card?” You tapped on Tony’s shoulder lightly.

He gave you a side glance, “ah shoot, I forgot. I’ll go get it tomorrow.” Then returned his attention to your brother.

But he ended up forgetting again the next day and you had to convince your teacher to give it to you instead. Your marks had A’s, but littered with B’s as well, of course that was no match for your brother’s perfect marks.

And that sort of scenario wasn’t just a one time thing, Tony forgets to pick up your report card every. single. time. The messed up part was you and Ethan literally attended the same school, he was just in a more advanced class than you.

As time passed, Tony went from ignoring you to getting annoyed and pissed at you for everything you did. In his eyes, you were always in the wrong. And the reason? You didn’t know.

“Dad? Can I borrow Bruce for a minute?” You knocked on the glass door of his lab to get him to look up.

He didn’t, but responded, “kinda busy with him right now.”

You looked at your fractured arm, regretting your decisions. “W-well, Ethan was training with Nat, and... and he wanted to try the new moves he learned on me. He went a little hard and - I think my arm’s broken, I just wanted Bruce to check it out-”

“Goddammit!” He shouted after you heard a glass shatter. Bruce covered his face with palms, muttering an ‘oh no’.

Tony glared at you, striding to where you were standing. All that was left for you to do was to brace yourself for what was about to come. “See, this is why we never let you do anything with the team,” he spat. “That right there?”-he pointed to your arm-“that’s on you. Things go wrong because you’re in the way!”

“I’m... I’m sorry-”

“Just get out of here.”

Your arm remained untreated after that.

Then Peter Parker came into the picture. Friendly guy, he was actually nice to you. Him and Ethan got along right away when Tony first recruited him. The fact that he treated Peter better than you made you even more miserable. It made you think he never wanted a daughter in the first place.

You first met Peter when he accidentally entered your room without warning, thinking it was the bathroom. Cliche, but that’s what happened.

“It’s on the first door to your other left,” you stated.

“Yeah, yeah okay, thanks,” he turned around to leave but stopped to look at you again. “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”

“Y/N Stark.”

Peter’s eyes lit up at your last name. “I... I didn’t know Mr. Stark had a daughter - no offense! It’s just-”

You sighed and waved him off. He didn’t even notice the similarities you had with your twin. “It’s fine. I get that a lot.”

After many events of being, to be blunt, treated like shit, you finally had enough. You neglected your studies, only went to school when you felt like it (which was rare). No one cared your grades anyway, so what’s the point? You became a whole new person, you surrounded yourself with the wrong sort of people, causing you to dabble into smoking and alcohol.

Since you were always in trouble, you could recite Cap’s detention speech at school by heart now.

The principal of your school wanted to see Tony to talk about your behavior. Normally he’d make an excuse not to go if it wasn’t that important but he got flooded with messages from the school, so he couldn’t say no.

You had your legs crossed, sitting across from Tony who had his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the principal. For some reason you didn’t feel nervous. “Y/N barely attends her classes. I’ve seen every attendance. Are you aware of this, Mr. Stark?”

Tony only maintained his usual relaxed posture and avoided your gaze.

“Some students have also seen her smoke in school grounds. We gave her a few weeks suspension for it, but it doesn’t look like she’s learned her lesson.” They pulled out a couple boxes of cigarettes from the desk drawer. “We found these in her locker.”

“You went into my locker?” You shot up from your seat. “You can’t just do that!”

Tony cleared his throat and got up, gripping your wrist. “I’ll take it from here - will that be all?”

On the way out he doesn’t say a word to you, only that his grip on your wrist got tight as you near the car.

“So,” he started the car. His voice was calm, but it screamed that you were in deep trouble. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You sighed and slouched in the passenger’s seat, crossing your arms. “I’m... sorry you had to know...?”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna be honest with you here,” Tony still doesn’t look at you. “When I found out I had two kids, I got worried about Ethan.”

You let out a snort. Of course he would.

“I didn’t want him ending up like me. But surprise surprise, my daughter did instead.”

“I’m not ‘ending up’ like you, Dad-”

“Then what do you call - this,” he referred to you. “What, you’re just gonna waste your life, drop out of school? You’re a fucking mess, Y/N, and here I thought I raised you right. Sometimes I think: why can’t you just be like your brother?” He had a hard grip on the steering wheel as he drove, the way he spoke affected the speed of the car greatly.

You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t fine the exact words you wanted to say. “I... well, I’m sorry I’m not a goody two shoes like him!”

“That’s not what I-”

“Please, that’s exactly what you meant.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m grounding you until you pull yourself together, understand?” And he did. He gave new orders to Friday when the both of you got home. You weren’t allowed to leave the compound without Tony’s permission.

Were you giving up that easily? Of course not.

You were on your laptop for the rest of the day, hacking into Friday’s system, the security to the elevator and the entrance. That night, your executed your plan and everything went smoothly.

“This is why you never underestimate me,” you sighed, deactivating the hack once you were out of the building. 

Your friend who was picking you up was already waiting a few blocks away from the compound. “I hope you’re cool with me staying over for a couple days.”

“If a bunch of Avengers come and destroy my place to look for you, I’m not going to be friends with you anymore.”

You laughed at out, “oh trust me, they don’t care.”

----

The next day no one noticed your absence, nobody did for another two days. Tony just assumed you were mad about your punishment, so he didn’t think of it much.

Not until Peter came to the compound on the third day, wanting to hang out with you.

“Whatcha got there, Pete?” Ethan asked.

“Star Wars movies. I wanna watch them with Y/N - she could use some company, don’t you think?”

The older Stark twin shrugged, “yeah, I guess she could.”

Peter then headed to the elevator and stopped at the floor where your room was. He knocked on your door and waited a bit, after a few minutes of silence he knocked again, still nothing.

“Y/N? Is it okay if I come in?” He called out. No response. He hesitated a bit, for all he knew you were probably changing or something, or you could be in danger. He went to open the door anyway. “I’m coming in, I’ll close my eyes just to be-”

To Peter’s surprise, your room was empty.

----

You were at a 711 parking lot, waiting for your friends who were buying supplies for a house party. You gave them your wallet, not really caring about anything anymore. Your phone was starting to pile up with messages and missed calls from Tony, Edward and Peter, occasionally from the others as you scrolled pass more.

Without thinking you threw your phone to the ground, cracking the screen, breaking it completely. They’d be able to track you through it now that they know you ran away. You really had no intention of coming back. You weren’t wanted, what’s the point of going back?

[zoellajulien]

come upon morning

(Peter Parker x Reader)

angst - words: 2.1k

OPEN ENDING BELOW

"Alright! Enough from you!" Your friend laughed loudly as he smacked your other friend in the back of the head, turning to face you. "It's your turn. Give us all the details!"

You shifted awkwardly, laughing and rubbing your arms for comfort. The conversation happening between your group was on the subject of 'the ones who got away', which you all had experience in. "Fine, fine. Just be quiet and sit down!"

A hush fell over the room as you opened a book and pulled some photos out of the page. Curiosity spread as the photos were passed around for everyone to look at.

"Why do you keep these on that page?" One friend asked, looking over your shoulder at the highlighted text.

"I keep them close to a quote on it. It says 'you'll always be mine, in the back of my mind. I'll look for you in my next life.' I found this quote when I was in a dark place, and it reminded me of him. Because that's how I'll always feel." You explained to them, passing another picture around.

In the photo, the boy had a straw taped badly to his head with a ridiculous smile spread across his face. His nose was wrinkled too, adding to the joyous atmosphere the picture captured. His brown curls were splattered across his head and face in a mess, along with a hastily put-in butterfly clip. You felt warmth blooming inside you while looking at it. Your friends laughed at the picture, pointing out various (but positive) things about him to one another.

"What are you doing? You look ridiculous!"

"I'm a unicorn! You should be a unicorn too!"

"Wait until Tony sees this. No- I am not sticking a straw to my forehead like a crackhead!"

"Psh, you don't know what you're missing, then!"

"That boy was my whole world. We were best friends before we lovers, but we always did everything together. One time, we both failed an exam on accident, and celebrated! We drove around for hours just because." You reminisced.

"Dude, one kid sitting next to me was all 'I got this in the bag! Studied all night long!'" Peter chuckled, pushing his curls from his face with the hand that held yours. He pushed his lips against your knuckles softly.

"Are you serious? Dude, if you can't even pass the exam, then everyone else definitely failed. Their ego was 100% bruised afterward, I'm sure of it." You snickered, blushing as your eyes cast over his form. His skin glowed from the kiss of sunset colors. "Hey! Careful! You almost hit that bird! Ugh, your driving is the worst!"

Peter's laugh brought a smile to your lips as you teased him, knowing full-well you drove much worse than he did. Poking his side with your finger to tease him more, he squirmed away and began to make faces.

"Oi! I'm trying to keep us alive! Stop that!" He snickered.*

"I hope you know that we are absolutely not listening to this song! My turn to control the cord!" You cheered, snatching his phone away.

"What? No! I'm the driver, I control the music!"

"In your dreams, Parker! And don't take your eyes off the freaking road, you health-hazard of a human being!"

"Oh, please! I drive better than you do! And either way, you know you love me!"

"That, yes, that is very true. I can not deny that." You giggled with a happy sigh.

"What else did you guys do?"

"So much! We went on great adventures and vacations together but also enjoyed simple moments. One day, I was frustrated with everything so I started crying on the kitchen floor when the empty pot slipped from my hand." You laughed at yourself, shaking your head. "He came in with a sympathetic heart and dumped a bunch of pots on the floor. At first, I got even angrier. Because, hello, that was a huge mess! But then he started constructing them together on a mat and grabbed two dowels for the both of us."

Peter cursed when he saw your form, panicking slightly as he tried to come up with a solution to fix the sad mood you owned. The poor brunette had come in, more than ready to defend you from an attacker, after being alerted to the crashing sound of a pan hitting the tiled flooring. Trying to think quickly on his feet, he leaned past you to pick up said fallen pot along with a large group of others.

"What are you doing? I swear to god I will smash your face into the cabinet if you think I'm going to clean this up."

Peter wordlessly grabbed your hand and placed the dowel in your hand, kissing each finger as he twisted them into a fist. He reached up and brushed a piece of hair away from your face, smiling sweetly at your confused face.

"What do I need this for?" You questioned, still slightly irritated.

"What? What was he doing, exactly?"

"We actually started playing them together, on the floor. He cheered me up in less than an hour. I went from crying in frustration to crying from laughter." A blush crept its way up your body as a love-sick smile made its appearance.

Crawling on the floor, Peter gently pulled you by your empty hand next to him. A whine of protest escaped your lungs, but you eventually gave in and looked at the pots in front of you. He reached around you, his arms controlling yours. He began beating the wooden sticks against the metal and copper pots.

"I love you! I love you! My darling!" He sang out dramatically, badly playing out an improvised tune, hiding his smile when he noticed you were forcing one to hide. "My darling! She's oh-so-beautiful!"

Laughter bubbled within your chest and escaped into the air around the two of you. A smirk made its made to your boyfriend's lips at the achievement of making you happy. He pressed a kiss to your cheek before continuing his actions.

Eventually, he moved and sat beside you, using his wooden stick to bang on the pans. He laughed after you made a pun referring to the pots, shaking his head in amusement.

"Come one, sing a duet with me."

"Nooo."

Peter began singing loudly but slow enough for you to try and match his lyrics. You were pretty sure the two of you were bothering the neighbors at this point.

A bubble of snickers filled the room after someone mentioned just how in love you seemed to be even after he left.

"You see, this big teddy bear of a human being loved to travel, so one day he showed up outside my job and picked me up. We ended up driving for a long time until we had a picnic underneath the stars. I taught him a bunch of the constellations."

"Peter! C'mon, tell me where we're going! You're boring me!" You joke, shoulders shaking in laughter when you do.

"No! You can't know yet! It's called a surprise, babe!" He protests, taking one hand off the wheel and easing his foot off the accelerator. Using the empty hand he has, he pokes your side once safely stopped at a red light.

"Ugh. You're a pain. I hope you know that." You paused for a few minutes before saying: "Are we there yet?"

"We are literally still driving! Relax!"

The drive continued for another hour or so before you pulled up onto a hill that sat beside a glistening lake. By that time, it was well past midnight. You would have fallen asleep if Peter's energetic and proding, literally, personality. He sang loudly to you and was constantly poking you in the ribs, although gently.

"We've arrived! I hope you're hungry!"

After the picnic, you rested by his side, enjoying the comforting kisses he left across your face. "I love you, but I'd appreciate it if you would pay attention to my lesson!" You whined*

"Alright, Teach. What do you have for me to learn? Not math, I hope." He replied in turn with a broad smirk.

With a sharp eye-roll, you sat up, taking his finger, and pointing it at the sky. "Big dipper." You drug it over to a separate spot. "Little dipper."

"I like this lesson. Teach me more."

"He sounded amazing. What happened to you two?"

"The part of him yearning for adventure became too difficult to ignore, and he knew he needed to go. Of course, he offered for me to come with him, but my parents refused. They told me how my focus was to be on where I was going in the future, so their force kept us apart." You set down the Polaroid picture to pick up another one, this one of a car. The brunette sat on top of it, clearly singing and dancing. "The night he left was a hard one for us all. His aunt and mentor came over so we could all wish him goodbye. I was angry at my parents, but they were right. My future was very uncertain with him, especially since he didn't know where he would be going."

A stray tear made it's down your cheek, dropping onto the hoodie of his you wore. Your friend wrapped an arm over your shoulder.

"Eventually, after he packed his car for the journey and his weeping aunt gave him one last hug, I was called over. I opened the door to be closer to him and sat, looking at him. His cheeks were damp with tears, as were mine, but we smiled. He put his hand into mine and kissed me, so softly, as if I were glass."

"You look beautiful today, you know. Is that dress new?" Peter's fingers danced up your arm to cup your cheek.

"I bought it just for you, for today. I wanted you to see me looking my best, so you can remember me this way when you go."

"I still don't know if I want to go." He admitted, ducking his head before looking back into your eyes.

"You have to. You need to go because your heart is calling." You whispered, reluctant to admit the truth as much as he was. "And you don't have to be scared, because I will always be with you along this journey." You placed your hand on his heart.

"He pleaded for me to go that night, to go with him. I told him I couldn't, that it wasn't an option."

You set down the picture while standing, grabbing one from underneath a flipped-over picture frame. One of your friends picked up the frame and felt anguish at seeing the picture inside the glass.

The same boy the conversation was about sat somewhere, clearly in a place with bright lights. He wore a white, short-sleeve top that ended with the picture. His eyes were blood-shot, curls messy as can be, but a smile sat across his lips, despite being clearly in pain.

"This noise is going to be the death of me, I swear."

"Kid, you've got a lot more fighting to kill you right now than the lights. At least try to act concerned for yourself." Tony's voice strained, dry from tears. "They are probably the smallest problem you have as of now."

"Don't say stuff like that. Please." Your voice croaked, all the tears you had now gone from crying them away. "It can't be like that. No."

"That picture was taken a few months before he left. This one is a copy of the photo he took with him." You explained, showing it around. "I loved him so much, you know, and he loved me too. I could tell since he had some much trouble leaving us. But I knew he had to go."

In the last photo sat you both, side-by-side, asleep. One of his arms draped over your side while he spooned you from behind with his face buried into the skin of your neck. You had hair flopped over one eye and one hand tucked into his dangling by your front. The two of you had corresponding colors on your nails, a bright red. It had been his idea after a tired sleep-over reached well past two in the morning. It was a fond memory of yours.

Your friend pulled you tight to his chest, noticing the balance you were struggling to keep between sobbing or staying straight-faced. Eventually, the tears came out, but a smile stayed on your lips as you remembered Peter.

You remembered his laughter that was always accompanied by his contagious smile or smirk. Also on the list, you remembered his ability to sweet-talk you into sneaking out to see him on nights he wasn't 100% busy. However, you also remembered how he left you, leaving a longing feeling that turned into unheard wishes.

You just wish his departure had actually happened like that.

taglist: @rorybutnotgilmore @petersasteria @elios-timotea

[marvelsbetch]

Peter Parker’s field trip. Part 1

Warnings: Trans!Peter, Spidypool, sex references, superfamily, transphobia, supportive avengers

Tony POV

I was in my lab waiting for Peter, my newly adopted son, to come home from school when Friday told me I had an email from Peters school. Turning to my phone I opened the email and was completely annoyed. The email read

'Dear Parent/Carer of Patricia Parker,

We are delighted to inform you that we have a surprise field trip for the student to none other than Stark Laboratories. The trip with be a residential starting on March 7th with a trip to Stark Tower, staying the night there with Mr Tony Stark-Rodgers and then having a trip to the Avengers Tower where we will have the opportunity to meet the Avengers and ask them questions. This is a once in a life time opportunity and we hope you allow your daughter to attend. Also, we would like to keep the trip as a surprise for the student so we urge you not to tell them the destinations of the trip.

Yours Sincerely,

Mrs Robbins.'

I was livid. My child Peter is a boy. I do not have a daughter I have a son. I couldn't believe the nerve of this teacher so I stormed out of my lab and in to the main living area of the penthouse and saw my handsome husband lay on the couch watching tv. He looked so calm and collected but I feel this might change.

"Honey, I just got this email from Peters school that I think you should have a look at." I told him handing him my phone.

He looked confused at first but then the anger set in and by time my phone was placed back in my hand he had an evil smirk on his face. I had an idea of why he had that smirk but just to be sure I asked him,

"What's the smirk for?" I asked.

"Tell the teacher our son can go on the trip while I make a few phone calls. Nobody purposely misgenders my son and gets away with it." He is trusted before grabbing his cell phone and walking down the corridor to one of the training room. Probably going to blow off a little steam and anger. Might watch in a little while.

After a second I simply responded to the email stating'

I as Peters legal guardian allow my son to attend this field trip. Is there any additional information that we should be aware of?' It seemed like the appropriate response.

In all honesty I had Pepper invite the school to the towers as a reward for how well they did at the decathlon competition. I was not expecting to receive an email like this.

-5 hours later-

Peter arrived home shortly after the email incident and was greeted to everyone being in the room. Everyone being Me, Cap, Bucky, Nat, Banner, Pepper, Sam, T'Challa, Shuri, Rhodey, Wanda, Vision, Thor, Loki, Clint and Strange along with the Guardians on a Skype call on the tv. We told him it was a spur of the moment gathering as well all missed each other, not an entire lie, but in reality we were plotting to a) embarrass Peter as much as possible on the field trip and b) get back at the teacher for what they did.

We decided to order enough pizza for an entire 3rd world country and discuss Peter's school life as we ate.

"So Peter, has anyone been giving you trouble lately in School? You can tell us the truth." Steve, Peter's other father and my husband, asked.

"No everything just fine." He terribly lied.

"Come on kid. I've known you for almost two years now, don't try and lie. If there's anyone giving you any type of shit for whatever reason please know that you can tell us." I explained to him all of a sudden getting very serious. I could see him fighting with himself on weather to tell us something or not but decided not to as he then said he had homework to do and went to his room.

"So, he's either lying or the teacher isn't as bad as we think." Loki observed.

"No, he was lying. I could feel his conflict and pain in remembrance of what people have said to him. I'm not one for violence but someone needs to pay for what he's been dealing with." Wanda told us with tears in her eyes.

Cap and Barton walked over to comfort her and hopefully stop her crying. My blood started boiling, Wanda was a strong person and if what Peter's going through brings her to tears then that's a lot for one person to go through. What else has this teacher or student done? Why won't he tell us? Does he not trust us? That last question broke my heart.

"Baby, you okay?" I hear Steve ask moving towards me and holding both my hands in his.

"No. I'm pissed. I'm pissed at any one who hurt my son. I'm pissed at us for not making sure he knows he can talk to us. And I'm pissed at the world for making his go through all of this." I told him with tears coming to my eyes.

Steve pulled me close to my chest and held me tight. He stroked his hands through my hair as he tried to calm me down. I could tell he was mad to, we all were, but he was trying to hold it in despite everyone being here to essentially punish this teacher was his idea. Embarrassing Peter was mine.

"Right, so what do we do about this? I'm not letting anyone hurt my nephew and get away with it." Nat said sitting up and pulling a knife from who knows where to sharped her nails. That women scares me so much.

"How about we just drop in during the day and make sure one of us is always with him. If he has one of us always there and we make it apparent that we know and support him the I doubt even someone as bigoted as his teacher is going to say something. Then we can embarrass him when we're with him." Sam suggested.

"I like that. Where are we all going to be stationed?" Loki asked.

"Well if I speak to the tour guide I could get Banner to give them a lesson on Gamma radiation as the first. Then, Barton or somebody drops in. After that they will be taken to a different lab with Shuri and T'Challa. By that time it should be lunch where Thor and Loki could drop in and the guardians land near the level 7 outside cafeteria. Then we can have Sam drop some stuff from above like a water balloon or something and Bucky bake his favourite cookies to bring to him. After Lunch they're looking around some other labs where Shuri could also be along with Banner. I think they're also going to be visiting the training rooms so Nat, Cap, Bucky and T'Challa could be fighting and Wanda, Vision and Strange could be training their magic." I suggested feeling better now that we were planning this.

March 6th

-Peter's POV-

I was in Chemistry faintly heading the teacher, Mrs Robbins, drone on and on about ionic bonding and how it differs to covalent bonding. It was something I already knew so I didn't need to listen until Ned started hitting my arm. Turning to look at him he simply nodded to the direction of the teacher. I turned around just to catch two words that made my heart drop.

"-Field trip!" Our teacher cheered with a big smile on her face.

Field trip? To where and why?

"That's right, we have organised a surprise field trip for you all as a reward for how well you've all done on your recent exams. Only the top 20 student of the entire school will have the privilege of going. The destination will be a surprise but I will say to bring an overnight bag and money for food and such. You're parents have already got an email consenting for your attendance and the bus will be leaving at 8am tomorrow so don't be late." She further explained.

The whole surprise field trip thing made me nervous beyond all belief. I may not technically be a Parker anymore but the luck definitely followed me and the idea of having to go on an overnight field trip made me terrified. Also, our parents got an email. This means that either Dad (Tony) or Pops (Steve) knew about this probably weeks ago and didn't tell me, this only fulled my anxiety.

Soon the bell went signalling the end of the day and our temporary liberation from this educational prison. On the way out Mrs Robins pulled me aside. It confused me at first until she put our most recent test infront of me. My name circled in big red circles, I know what's about to happen.

"Patricia, you must stop this. You're name is not Peter, you're not a boy. You were born a girl and therefore are, there is no picking and choosing with what God gave you. You must understand this by now. This little joke has gone too far that you're name has been requested to change on our register. Get it through you're head that you are not a boy and you will go to hell for thinking otherwise. One more incident like this and you'll have detention for the rest of the year. Got it?" She basically shouted at me pointing to my circled name on the test.

"No. My name is Peter and I am a boy, I don't care what God assigned me because he got it wrong. I am a boy and my name is Peter as we have gotten it legally changed." I rebutted getting impatient with her ignorance.

"Don't speak to me like that young man. You have no right to change Gods idea and destiny for you. Just thing, you're a girl meaning you can have kids and spread God's message to others and have many kids. Just what God planned for all women." She told me trying to sound sweet but came off and incredibly patronising.

At this point I was too angry to listen to her bulls**t (Gotta keep it Steve friendly people) so I stormed out the room. She started yelling for me to come back to the classroom but I didn't listen and continued walking till I reached the car Happy was in to take me home.

I got in the car and started telling Happy about my day while playing classic songs on my phone such as Highway to Hell, You gave love a bad name and Living on a Prayer. He pretended like he didn't care but I could tell he was listening and hanging onto every word I was saying. I love that about Happy, he acts like he doesn't care but in reality he does and he does a lot. He once caught Flash saying stuff about me and threatened to hit him with the car, he almost did as well but we were running late to a meeting I had to go to with Dad. Of course that didn't stop Flash as he still likes to torment me daily but he now does it more secretly making it more bearable.

We soon made it home and I found all of my dysfunctional family,minus the guardians who were on a Skype call, sat in the living room watching a movie on the tv. I quickly set my bag down on the kitchen island and settled right next to Tony (Dad) who was cuddling Cap (Pops). Everyone was asking me questions about my day and school life in general. They focused mostly on if people were bullying on me. It worried me a little because as much as I know I can go to them, I don't want to because I know that if I tell them everything that's happened they'll kill people and I don't want that for my family. Half of them only just got pardoned and I don't want the governments to revoke that.

"Sorry guys but I got homework. The pizza was delicious, is it okay if I invite Wade around?" I pleaded with Pops knowing he's more likely to say yes.

"Yes but that door stays open hound man. Do I make myself clear?" Pops asked in a stern voice.

"Crystal." I responded before taking out my phone to call Wade, grabbed my bag and walked to my room.

"Hey Baby Boy, what's up?" Wade asked after picking up his phone.

"Not much, Pops said you could come around." I told him making him slightly squeal.

"Okay Baby Boy, I'll be there in 10 minutes. I love you." Wade informed.

"I love you to Babe." I said before hanging up with a smile on my face.

-10 minutes later-

I was sat at my desk finishing my algebra homework when I heard someone knock on the window. Knowing it was Wade I turned with a smile on my face and let him in.

"Hey Baby Boy, how was your day?" Wade asked making himself comfortable on my bed.

"It was fine, quite boring if I'm honest. We did get told about this residential field trip tomorrow though. Sorry I won't be here for most of the weekend. I'm sure my Dads will love having you around." I joked sitting on his lap and cuddling into his chest.

"It's fine Pete. I'll just have to savour our time together now." He said wiggling his eyebrows and kissing me passionately.

"My Pops said to keep the door open." I told him pulling away with a massive blush spread across my cheeks.

"Does that rule apply to your en-suite?" Wade asked.

"I don't believe so." I answered getting up from his lap and dragging him into my en-suite, which is where we stayed for the rest of the night.

To be continued...

[aelaer]

Hi friend! You seem vast in your knowledge of Stephen and willing to share so please enlighten me as I don’t read the comics but I do watch the mcu movies, and do love Stephen.

I know he’s erratic and impulsive and reckless sometimes but didnt we already complete this arc in his first movie? Especially since we’ve watched him deal with the consequences of his actions for the entirety of the film and end of the movie Stephen was a different Stephen from the beginning of the movie.

IW Stephen seemed like a more mature version of the man we’ve met at the end of his first movie, a linear progression of the character, more responsible.

The spider man trailer is just a few minutes so I’ll further reserve judgment till I see the film, but he seems.. silly almost? I’m aware he has his funny moments but I’m just nervous they’re gonna make him the joke instead of having him make the jokes.

Do you notice anything weird about how the adults act in these newer marvel projects.? (I’m thinking of loki specifically) they all have a silly undertone to them? I cant put my finger on it but it’s definitely new and ..off

Is this a constant characterization for Stephen in the comics? Is this what he’s like all the time?

Regardless, thank you for your time if you see this xx

Oh yeah, Stephen's my favorite subject at the moment so I'm happy to give my thoughts!

Note that my answers apply to MCU!Stephen and what we've seen in the four films he's been in.

I know he’s erratic and impulsive and reckless sometimes but didnt we already complete this arc in his first movie? Especially since we’ve watched him deal with the consequences of his actions for the entirety of the film and end of the movie Stephen was a different Stephen from the beginning of the movie.

In my experience of just living, there are personality quirks that can be tempered out and made better, but not entirely eliminated, even if it's undesirable. In my opinion, Stephen's need to push himself and prove that he can Do A Thing is a trait that won't ever go away--especially as that trait has helped him more than hindered him. Examples would include the more mundane such as getting through a combined MD/PhD program and inventing surgical procedures at what is still a really young age for a neurosurgeon. We don't have a canonical age for Stephen, but Benedict was 40 when Doctor Strange was filmed and released; even if he's canonically in his mid-40s, that's still very young for him to be at his caliber after the necessary years of med school and residency in the United States. He's young and nowhere near the end of his career when he gets in the car crash. So with that information in mind, we know that he's very ambitious and throws himself into doing difficult work with gusto. That doesn't even go into everything he did as a sorcerer.

Why get into all of this? Because while we, the viewer who has seen the multiverse open at... some point (possibly, in a rewritten timeline, it's always been open now with what happened in Loki!), we have seen just how nuts it gets. We have seen the consequences. Stephen's smart, but I don't think it's a matter of strictly recklessness and more a combination of ignorance on this specific subject (erasing memories across the world or slightly rewriting time-- we don't know how he's doing it, but a memory spell makes more sense to me), hubris (of course), and the real desire to help Peter out. The latter two traits combined in intelligent people have proven bad in both fiction and reality.

The reason I don't think it's pure impulsiveness is because in the trailer, we see Stephen doing some meditation type thing in the underground area before the spell. He's also always doing research and as he tells Peter he'll help him, he clearly knows of a spell already and has some working knowledge of how it works. The conversation with Wong wouldn't have happened otherwise. But I personally get the vibe off him that he'd not do it without being very confident that he can do it -- and his history in the films has shown 0 failures in any of his spells once he's past novice-level, so in that aspect, his confidence makes sense. If he *should* do the spell due to the risks of failure, and lack of practicing precaution in the face of his confidence, is where his flaws lie, IMO. And in that sense people could say he was reckless for deciding to perform a complicated, dangerous spell, but that follows his M.O. completely -- he performed a very complicated, dangerous spell consistently with the Time Stone again and again, from how the sorcerers spoke about the Infinity Stone (and he casually just... throws himself into a time loop, then to look through time. He takes calculated risks, but they are very much risks).

One last thought on this statement - the biggest, biggest lesson that Stephen learned in his first film was that it was not about him. There was more to the world than his glory and his brilliance and even his happiness. He started doing things for the greater good rather than himself. And he started doing things for others -- fighting for the Sanctum in his own film, and protecting the Earth. Serving something greater than himself. But that doesn't make him suddenly humble, and it doesn't suddenly take away his strange (hah) sense of humor.

IW Stephen seemed like a more mature version of the man we’ve met at the end of his first movie, a linear progression of the character, more responsible.

He was more serious in that film. So was Tony. They still had some quips and arguments, but they were very serious. And it makes sense as to why -- it was the end of the world. So the mood of the setting would change anyone's demeanour. But he had very little chance to unwind in that film, considering that he was trying to protect one of six items that would destroy the universe, and also got freaking tortured in the middle of the film with little time to recover. But nearly every Avenger was super serious in that film, and for good reason.

It's a completely different setting from what is now Stephen's life which, from what little we've seen in the trailer, is weird enough that he got a magical snowstorm in the Sanctum. It's safe enough that Wong's off on vacation. It's been nearly a year since he returned from the dead. He's either figured out how to move on in the last year or, as some prefer, has gotten good enough to put on a facade and bury the trauma so far down that he's putting on a normal act - but that's up to debate until MoM. And we have no idea if old traumas are going to be brought up there or if it's just the new things.

I think the point is that it's possible to be both a responsible person and also to make colossal mistakes due to either emotional connections or hubris (or both - we don't know which way the film will go, if they'll explain it at all). They're not mutually exclusive. He can be protecting reality fantastically, while also believing that he's skilled enough to pull off the ability to pull off a dangerous spell which he did in his own film and in IW. He's guided the timeline down a specific path in IW/Endgame, after all - what's a little identity item compared to the fate of the universe, after all? Removing the Spider-Man/Peter association is, in comparison, child's play I imagine to a man like Stephen.

The spider man trailer is just a few minutes so I’ll further reserve judgment till I see the film, but he seems.. silly almost? I’m aware he has his funny moments but I’m just nervous they’re gonna make him the joke instead of having him make the jokes.

Do you notice anything weird about how the adults act in these newer marvel projects.? (I’m thinking of loki specifically) they all have a silly undertone to them? I cant put my finger on it but it’s definitely new and ..off

He was definitely silly in his own film. He was constantly trying to get Wong to laugh and there was a banter between Stephen and Christine after he gets stabbed. He's always been a bit awkward and a bit jokey--I think Thor showed that combination of humorous snark and good research rather well, though he was flippant in a way that didn't get to show his kinder side that is better established in his film. And now we get to see that sympathy in his agreement to help Peter (at least, in my opinion).

Because he was doing an amazing awesome spell not once, not twice, but *three* times in the trailer alone, I am not worried about Stephen just being a joke. He seems just as powerful as he was in IW and Endgame. The rest of the world is just getting reminded that he's definitely a bit of a socially awkward duck at times (or, if you prefer, Putting On a "I'm Fine" Front And It's Coming Across As Weird). So him being a big joke is not something I am personally worried about.

Situational humor has been a staple of Marvel films since Iron Man. I watched the films casually before 2016 when I fell head deep into Stephen Strange (or well, 2018/9 is more accurate as that's when I *really* went nuts), and my viewings before that time and after that time was a lot more analytical. And it's very easy to see where the silliness started, all the way back when Tony crashed into his own car and Dum-E sprayed him with a fire extinguisher. Thor was the butt of the joke in the "fish out of water" scene in a good, good chunk of the film. Even Captain America had some situational humor. And remember that Guardians of the Galaxy was back in 2014, which was halfway through the MCU's time thus far. The stars of these films are almost always the butt of some joke a couple times and do things that could be viewed as childish.

I don't know your age at all, but if you were born after 1990, what might be happening, rather, is that they are not getting sillier, but that you may be getting older. I was an adult (legally, at least) in 2008, but the way I view the adults of the films throughout the early 2010s as compared to now is night and day. It's just come with my own life experience, and wider understanding to media tropes. The jump is even more significant if you were younger in Iron Man/Avengers days and are an adult now. If you're an older adult than me, then I'd argue it's the matter of life experience adding to your overall knowledge of media plus, potentially, rose-tinted glasses giving you a better vision of the older movies while forgetting that the older movies had plenty of their own flaws (and silliness). Could be a lot of things- it's too individual to really say why your perspective has changed. But I don't think the MCU's largely changed their comedy formula since 2012/2013.

Is this a constant characterization for Stephen in the comics? Is this what he’s like all the time?

Oh the comics are a mess of characterizations. It's very difficult to find full consistency across writers, and some writers did him much better than others. At the moment, Jason Aaron's 2015 run is viewed as very good by a large amount of fans, while Waid's 2018 run is viewed with mixed reviews. It's largely a matter of preference as you'll see traits that are just so uncharacteristic in an arc and then it never happens again. He takes on secret identities, he kills billions to save trillions (along with the other Avengers!), he sells his soul, he's in a steady relationship for 30 years, then he's sleeping with a new woman every arc he co-stars in-- it's just so dependent on the writer over the decades. What Marvel thinks will sell. Right now Marvel thinks his death is gonna sell issues, so yeah :P You pick and choose with the comics and build a personality from there.

Thank you for the thoughtful ask. I hope this wasn't too much of a drag to read through; I get rambly on my favorite subjects. Or anything, really.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

No, It's Definitely Funny

Prompt: Can I request a second part to "Let's Call It Funny" where Bucky, Sam, Steve, and Peter unite forces to confuse and concern all the other avengers (with at least one instance where two or all of them respond to something by pretending to jump off a building?) Love you! -Auggie

Does it count as being back on my bullshit if I never left?

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: none, unless you need a warning for gen z humor

Pairings: it's still found family hours

Word Count: 2259

Peter’s gonna be honest, he may or may not have some competition for the funniest person in the Tower right now.

Because let’s look at the list here:

Traumatized? Everybody and their private jet’s worth of vintage and designer baggage needs therapy.

Queer? If you think Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, or Sam Wilson is straight, you need to tell them everything they’ve ever done to make you think they’re straight so they can stop doing it immediately.

Superhero? Yeah, okay, shush, now you’re being stupid.

Neurodivergent? Have you seen the way these men behave? Definitely the model of Perfectly Normal Person™, what on earth are you talking about, absolutely 100% Normal™.

The only things he’s still got going for him that the others don’t are high-schooler and trans. That’s not a lot when it comes to the fact that hey, two of them are from the Great Depression—let’s be honest, they’re the OGs when it comes to fatalistic humor—and they’ve all got years of practice.

Sure, Peter’s got some trauma-given raw talent, but it’s not refined by years and years of throwing yourself off of buildings and out of planes to avoid having conversations about your emotions.

The day Aunt Nat dropped all of SHIELD’s files on the Internet and Peter found out that Steve yeeted himself out of a plane—without a parachute!—to avoid Nat’s prodding about getting a date was the best day of his fucking life.

“Don’t you go stealing my moves there, kid,” Steve had scolded playfully, winking over the rim of his mug.

“Try and stop me, I dare you.”

“And this is why,” Tony had sighed, looking every bit his 79 years—“Hey!”—as he watches this interaction go down, “you have a parachute built into your suit.”

“I’ll just wear my old one, don’t worry about it.”

“That heinous thing that’s just a cut-up old hoodie and goggles? Peter, no, that thing is being held together with safety pins and hope!”

“I mean, me too, so it’s fine.”

“Peter!”

“Also, like, it’s the one I almost got crushed to death in, so it’s got the emotional trauma seasoning already.”

“Wait—“ Bucky had sat up— “you almost got crushed to death by a building? Sheesh, kid, you’re really flirting with the reaper, huh.”

“It wasn’t so bad, I had training from the years and years of carrying the weight of my sins crawling on my back.”

“At least ask Death for his number next time, he’s not returning my calls.”

“Sergeant, I swear to God—“

“Actually, Death uses they/them pronouns, I asked when I met them last weekend.”

“What the fuck did you do last weekend?”

“Really? Oh cool, well, can you get their number for me? We had a date back in ’45 that they missed.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.”

“Tony, why are you screaming? Not keeping dates is a very serious matter.”

“Trust me, I speak from experience, Tony, it’s not a good habit to get into.”

“You should respect your elders and not scream while we’re talking to you, mister.”

“All of you shut the fuck up.”

See? On one hand, it’s great to have more partners in this venture of making Tony’s hair turn grey—he’s that age, it’s bound to happen any time soon now— “One more crack about my age, kid, I swear.” — but on the other hand, Peter is seriously losing his massive lead on funniest person in the Tower.

The other thing he’s worried about is Sam’s ability to make it so the others can’t actually worry about him.

Because—listen, Sam Wilson is a fucking national treasure and all you fuckers better acknowledge that. It’s no secret that the Captains take turns going out with the shield, all of them answer to ‘Captain America’ because that’s what they are, but no one—and Peter will never say this under threat of death because he does not need any more of the Steve Rogers’ Puppy Dog Eyes™, thank you very much—no one does it better than Sam.

And that means that Sam fucking Wilson can turn a fatalistic, self-deprecating joke into a motivational speech that doesn’t feel disingenuous or cliché at all and everyone is too busy processing the philosophical revelations they’re having to scold him for his, frankly, outstanding sense of humor.

It’s not fair and Peter can’t do it.

He tried. Once.

Didn’t go very well.

No, he’s not gonna talk about it, let’s just move on.

Sam has offered to catch him a couple of times when he gets himself a little too deep into the Mamma Spider™ or Iron Dad™ trap of feeeelings, and he gratefully scoots out of the way when Sam sits down next to him and just makes another joke.

Sam is also a fantastic role model for the brand of ‘I’m going to the store and only have twenty bucks, stop asking for your will to live back’ jokes.

“Hey, Pete!”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go, bodega run.”

“Can we pick up some hopes and dreams, too, all of those got scribbled out in fat red Sharpie yesterday.”

“I said bodega run, not Court of Miracles run.”

“But Sam~”

“Listen, kid, if you manage to find your hopes and dreams in this bodega, keep an eye out for your childhood innocence, that might be on the next shelf over.”

“Deal.”

“Do you two need some more therapy appointments?”

“Only got fifteen bucks, man.”

“I’m literally a billionaire!”

Peter eagerly studies under this pinnacle of humor and keeps his worries to himself.

Because if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, and Peter’s sense of humor is wonderful, but he is a tad intimidated by the amount of variety the others have got going for them.

“You’re a fucking terror, Spider-ling, that’s what you are.”

“Not true! I was ‘a pleasure to have in class.’”

“Oh, is that why you’re taking ‘Little Shit’ lessons from Barnes and Rogers?”

“And Sam! Don’t forget Captain Wilson, he is an invaluable part of this team. I’m surprised at your ignorance.”

“Pete—no, that’s not—“

“I’m ashamed for you, Mr. Stark.”

“Listen here you little shit—“

Anyway…

Steve and Bucky have a habit of telling these like, really awful jokes that have Peter in stitches for half an hour. It’s not fair and he doesn’t get why they’re so funny because they aren’t, and yet here he is, laughing anyway.

It’s probably some combination of Steve’s perfected innocent face that he wears when he has to do interviews and Bucky’s habit of not giving a single solitary fuck. But they’re able to make the worst jokes with completely serious expressions and it’s not fair.

“Hey, can you guys come help me with something?”

“Sure, Peter,” Steve says instantly, bounding over with his 95-year-old Golden Retriever energy as Bucky trails behind him like a cat that’s sitting in your lap because he wants to, not because he likes you or anything, “what’s up?”

“I have a history project on WWII due tomorrow and I haven’t started it yet.”

Bucky snorts, taking a swig of coffee and sitting down on the floor. Which, same. “You got your eulogy planned?”

“Drafted, sighed, notarized, but Aunt May said no so I gotta do this.”

“Well, if Aunt May says no then I guess that’s that.”

Tony, from far away in another part of the Tower, has a sickening feeling that May Parker has once again proven that she is the most powerful parent and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“I, um,” Peter mumbles, fidgeting with his pen, “I want to be respectful of your boundaries, and if you don’t want to talk about anything then—“

Because it’s one thing for someone to make jokes about their trauma and another for someone else to go poking and prodding at it.

“Hey,” Steve interrupts softly, nudging him with his knee, “first off, thank you for saying that and we appreciate your respect, but we got you. You worry about enough, sweetheart, let us take care of ourselves.”

Peter gives him a look.

“When it comes to this,” Steve amends, having the decency to look a little sheepish, “we’ll take care of ourselves.”

Bucky scoffs. “Uh-huh.”

“We will, Buck.”

“My therapist will be real happy to hear that.” He looks up at Peter and winks. “Besides, what good is our trauma if we don’t pin it up and display it for good grades?”

Peter huffs, the joke undercut a little by the way Bucky knocks his foot against Peter’s and Steve’s arm stretches over the couch behind him.

Peter has to resist the urge to lean his head onto Steve’s shoulder, because then Steve’s hand will come up and ruffle his hair and Peter’s eyes will droop slowly closed as he loses himself in the warmth and safety of Steve’s embrace and then Steve will lean down to press a kiss to his temple and—

Right. Homework.

“What’s it on specifically,” Bucky asks, clearly spotting the temptation on Peter’s end, “home front? Overseas? Time period?”

“Uh, it’s an analysis of total war.”

“Like, how much of the country was devoted to the war effort?”

“Yeah, basically. It’s talking about how the Nazi War Machine made their war total and how that extends to a lot of other countries, but also about the reasons why the war was fought—“

They delve into a conversation about total war, Peter pointing out how Italy’s motivation for territory keeps it from being a total war on their part, Bucky speaking to how the different dynamics worked in various countries and the fallout, Steve bringing up how much of the home front was devoted to bringing attention to the war being fought overseas. Then, of course, as is inevitable, they devolve into storytelling.

Peter’s notebook—with notes! He did his job!—is set aside as he gives in to the need to let Steve cuddle him on the couch. Come on, the man is warm and big and gives good hugs, how is he supposed to not? Bucky sprawls out on the floor, leaning back on his hands as he smiles fondly.

“You know,” he remarks casually, “I fought a Nazi in my pajamas once.”

Peter blinks sleepily. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, though how he got in my pajamas, I have no idea.”

Peter snorts. Then he giggles. Then he’s collapsing into Steve’s side, positively sobbing with laughter.

It’s not funny.

It’s really not that funny.

But here he is, fucking dying, and he doesn’t even have the wherewithal to welcome the sweet embrace of oblivion.

“Okay, note to self,” Bucky murmurs when he’s calmed down a little, wiping away tears, “sleepy spider likes corny jokes.”

“Just don’t break our baby spider, Buck, Momma Spider would kill you in cold blood.”

“Listen, if Natasha Romanoff kills me, don’t prosecute. That’s on me.”

Peter can’t do corny jokes. He really can’t. He just sounds like he’s a recording so old it’s unintelligible and it’s bad. He has a reputation to maintain here!

However, there is one sense of humor that Peter is very eager to learn and adopt, and hey, it might actually be Iron Dad™ Approved!

It’s a rookie mistake, asking Bucky Barnes for a hand, but in his defense, Peter was left unsupervised and was distracted.

“Hey, Bucky, can you give me a hand?”

“Sure thing, Peter.”

Something nudges his arm and he looks down. It’s Bucky’s metal arm, bumping up against his elbow.

It’s a cheap joke. It’s bad. It does not deserve Peter’s laughter.

He snorts anyway.

“That’s on me,” he says after a second, “you know what, that’s my fault.”

“What, is this not what you meant?”

“No, no, you’re fine.” Peter scruffs a hand through his hair. He looks down at the prosthetic again. “Well, that’s disarming.”

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to snort. “You gotta hand it to me, though, it’s a good joke.”

Oh, it’s on.

“No, no, of course, I understand. You really can’t let an opportunity like that slip through your fingers.”

Steve chokes on his next sip of coffee. “Stop making the kid shoulder the burden of making puns with you.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Don’t palm this off on someone else, Steve, you’re as bad as he is.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad.” Peter shrugs. “You just gotta knuckle-down and find the right one.”

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to reach for puns?” Bucky hefts his arm.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say a lot.”

“Jeez, Pete, good one.”

“What, are you not finding them humerus?”

Sam’s gone, Steve shortly after. Bucky just grins proudly at him.

Then there’s a massive thunk from behind them. Peter turns around to see Tony slamming his forehead into the counter.

“You are all going to kill me,” he mutters, glaring up at them, “all three of you.”

“Oh, come on, Mr. Stark, Captain Barnes would never hurt you.”

Tony raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“After all,” Peter grins, gesturing to Bucky who is doing a very good innocent face—he must’ve been taking notes from Steve— “look at him, he’s completely armless.”

“Peter Benjamin Parker—“

Okay, so maybe it’s not Iron Dad™ Approved.

Oh, well.

[ofstarsandfireflies]

This is what Finding Dory should have been.

Their marriage might have fallen through, but even though there were regrets whidh they hadn’t worked out, Stephen still wanted to be a part of Tony’s and Peter’s life, he still believed he and Tony could get back together, despite his ex getting back into dating other men.

Especially since Peter had been abducted little under a month ago by fish bowl head.

He wasn’t about to let either of them out of his sight.

Now Peter was trying to live a normal life like all teenagers, getting a girlfriend by the name of MJ and trying for his driving lisence, and even though Tony had offered, Stephen was adamant that he would be the one to take Peter for his driving lessons.

Of course, he wasn’t the calmest as he probably once would have been in a car, and he just manages to agitate Peter about driving, but they make it back to Tony’s house in one piece.

But while Tony is trying to date again and Peter is trying to act as normal as he can despite what happened to him and Stephen tries to be there for them as often as he can and getting shit about it from Mordo and Wong, Adrian Toomes is creating a suit to avenge his son.

He’s not after Tony, like he had initially been, no, no, Tony didn’t kill his son.

Stephen Strange did.

But he’ll kill the both of them and Peter too.

A son for a son.

Stephen has the day free from his Sorcerer duties so he tries to spend time with Peter and Tony, Peter being a little too crafty for his own good and allowing the two adults to enjoy some time alone together.

Tony sees right through this, but he won’t complain, he’s missed Stephen.

But when they’re heading out to lunch, both of them see people watching them, following them, and they know not only are they in danger, but Peter could be as well.

And both are ill equipped to deal with them because Stephen never brought his sling ring and Tony had left his housing unit back at the lab.

Sure, Stephen still had his magic, but that doesn’t mean he wants to draw attention to them and make it easier to find them.

So, they split up, Tony heading back to Peter and Stephen heading for the Sanctum where he can get what he needs to teach these guys to stop messing with his family.

And he makes it, but so does Adrian with Tony, holding a gun to his head.

And while Stephen raises his hands, and stalls for time, Tony manages to send a distress call to Peter, who immediately heads to the lab.

With a nod from Tony telling him Peter’s safe, Stephen lowers and unclenches his fists, the last thing he sees before he’s knocked out is Tony having a bag thrown over his head.

And all Stephen can think about is Tony’s state of mind from being kidnapped again, and hoping that Peter is safe.

Peter is safe.

He’s in the lab tracking Tony through the distress signal and waiting for it to stop so he can get there and help his parents out while he searches for what he needs, keeping an eye on whoever took them’s idiots running around in a frenzy searching for him on the monitors, kicking in locked doors to empty rooms.

He knows he’ll be found eventually, but he’s already made up his mind to help by the time he gets a call from Tony, who wanted to make sure he was safe and wasn’t planning on finding them because they’re from the same group who took him just a few months ago.

But Tony’s worried voice sounds proud when Peter’s resolve won’t be swayed, but doesn’t get a chance to tell him what to do before the door of their cell is opening and he has to cut the call short.

With their location set into Karen’s GPS, Peter gets out of the lab just as the ones who had come to grab him find it empty.

He’s got everything that Tony told him to grab if this ever happened, and he’s got their location.

But getting there will take time, time which Tony doesn’t have.

When the door had opened and Adrian Toomes walked in, his mechanic wings folding back into the device on his back, he ignores Tony for Stephen.

He wants to know where Peter is.

And Stephen doesnt tell him, Tony has a knife at his throat.

But Stephen still won’t tell, and winces when the knife slices into him deep, blood continuously oozing into Tony’s clothes amd dripping onto the floor beneath him.

Stephen knows how long Tony has if it’s not stitched, and he knows they have nothing to stitch him up with.

Once Adrian leaves again, promising to return in the thirty minutes Tony has left with Peter, Stephen is trying to cut through his bonds to get to Tony to help him, counting down the seconds in his mind and becoming more angry and frustrated the longer it takes to free himself, calling to an unresponsive Tony, who has fallen limp in his restraints.

Finally, finally Stephen is free, ripping off his shirt to apply pressure to the wound as Tony manages to tell him to take his watch and call Peter.

He does so, Peter answering straight away and telling him he’s at their location.

Stephen wastes no time in blasting a hole above them, Peter just managing to drop what he’d brought with him before a pair of mechanical claws grab him by the arms and lift him up into the air.

Stephen is up after him, promising Tony he’ll be back.

Tony grabs the sealing agent first and patches himself up, shakily pressing his housing unit to his chest when he hears the commotion of armed men running to their cell, alerted by Stephen’s destructive renovating.

Clearing his head, he stands up, swaying a little under the weight of his sleek armour, and kills anyone who has the misfortune of walking through that door.

Stephen chases after Peter, summoning the mirror dimension and locking the three of them within it, using the turning and separating buildings to catch up to Peter and grab hold of him, freeing him from the villain when a car comes out of nowhere and runs straight into him.

But Toomes isn’t going down that easily, and Stephen keeps getting interrupted by attacks.

Seeing no other alternative, Peter apologetically hijacks a car and they speed away, Stephen trying not to have a panic attack with how fast Peter is driving and how he’s swerving in and out of traffic coming and going in every direction, almost rolling the car more than once when he feels it balancing on two wheels.

Toomes is right behind them, not giving up as Peter tries to keep them alive long enough for Stephen to get them out of here.

But without a sling ring, they can’t exit how they normally would.

He needs to get to the Sanctum and get one, or at least keep Toomes occupied so Wong or Mordo can get them out of here.

Peter likes the second option, stressing Stephen out even more now he’s driving with one hand and calling Wong’s phone with the other, Stephen grabbing the phone from him before he gets them both killed.

Almost as soon as Stephen tells Wong what’s happening, a portal opens right in front of them, Peter, Stephen, and the car they’re in sailing over Wong’s head and crashing straight into the staircase.

Wong closes the portal just as Toomes reaches it, one of Vulture’s wings snapping off as he just makes it through, heading back to Tony.

Leaving Peter in Wong’s care, Stephen takes the sling ring and walks into the room where he’d left Tony, finding it abandoned.

He makes his way past all the bodies, hoping to find Tony somewhere close by.

And he does.

Tony’s suit is torn to shreds, all the power he’d had charged in it now all used up.

But he’s alive.

He’s shaking but alive and when he sees Stephen, the first words out of his mouth are concerning Peter.

But Stephen reassures him that Peter is safe at the Sanctum with Wong, and the wave of relief over the man he still loves almost brings him to tears.

It would be touching and damn near romantic if Toomes wasn’t there watching them, the last one alive out of the group of men he’d had with him.

Both Stephen and Tony hold up their hands, Tony’s more on instinct even without any more power left.

Looking over at Toomes, Stephen offers him a way out of this.

A way to live.

But Toomes doesn’t take it.

So focused on revenge, he aims for Tony, knowing it won’t be satiated if he’d aimed for Stephen, but his hand suddenly jerks behind his back, dropping his gun as a thick web ties him up, and Peter drops down with a proud look on his face.

The three are safe, and together again.

Not long after things settle down, life begins to move on.

Peter passes his driving lesson, which Stephen had no doubt in his mind he wouldn’t succeed at.

Stephen and Tony are trying their relationship again.

And Peter is giving this thing with MJ a real chance, asking her on a double date with his parents.

Yeah.

Maybe things will finally go back to normal now.

Quotes -

“The man who took our loved ones from us. The man who has brought us such pain and sorrow. We will find him. We will bring him here. We will not rest until his blood flows into this very ground. We will have our revenge.”

Adrian Toomes addressing his men

“Oh! I didn’t know you guys were still so cozy that she shares her marriage issues with you.”

“Wait a minute, I know you guys were close, obviously, but are you close again? Close like...”

“I’ll lay money she’s still got something for him.”

“Don’t go there, friend.”

“Maybe he still has something for her!”

“Can we talk about basketball? For God’s sake, come on!”

Wong and Mordo teasing Stephen about Tony

“So, this Jaime...is it...serious?”

That was a really smooth transition. I don’t know, it’s only been a few months.”

“Are you in love with him?”

“I guess I’m not sure yet.”

“Have you ever been in love before?”

“Not the way that mom talks about it.”

“How does she describe it?”

“She said that when you guys met...that it was super special.”

“Super special? She said that?”

“I think the exact word she used was...‘ magical.”

“Magical, huh?”

Stephen and Peter bonding.

“I have nothing against you. You didn’t kill my son. But your husband did. Now, he betrayed you by choosing to save your daughter instead of you. He left you here like a dog.”

“At least my daughter is still alive.”

Tony being the snarky bastard we all love

Anything part 2

There’s a new enemy with his sights set on not just Peter, but his parents too.

January, February

Missed a Day? Catch up here!

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5

Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10

Day 11 Day 12 Day 13 Day 14 Day 15

Day 16 Day 17 Day 18 Day 19 Day 20

Day 21 Day 22 Day 23 Day 24

[hale-13]

Triple Axel

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 1 - Freezing

There’s nothing Peter loves more about winter than spending the entire season ice skating. The fact that Mr. Stark‘s lake freezes over so well just gives him the perfect excuse to hang out with his mentor, pseudo-sister and still get to skate for free.

Words: 2738, Chapters 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Morgan Stark, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

Peter grew up a pretty graceless kid.

He never looked where he was going, always too excited, and tripped over air. His knees and palms were perpetually covered in cuts and scrapes in various stages of healing and he broke his glasses so often May and Ben had taken to just taping them together at the bridge of the nose instead of replacing them. Going to the community playground was an activity that was fraught with danger due to Peter’s over enthusiasm; well that and his two left feet and lack of hand-eye coordination. It was lucky that he picked up the, much safer, past time of building legos and other models with Ned at a young age.

Peter looked back on those sepia childhood memories with nostalgia and fondness now but he can remember the frustration of just wanting to do what the other kids did. He hated that he stood out because of his ridiculous coke-bottle glasses, the severe asthma attacks that kept him from participating in gym and recess. He just wanted to have fun.

And, unbelievable to anyone who knew him, the one thing that Peter Parker was inexplicably good at as a kid was ice skating.

The first time Peter was allowed to skate was when he was eight at Betty Brant’s birthday – coincidentally the first party he was invited to. May and Ben had both be overly hesitant – accident prone kids didn’t often mix well with anything slippery and sharp pointy objects – but Peter was able to wear them down eventually.

The prediction that Peter would fall flat on his face the second his skates touched the ice proved to be accurate but Peter was nothing if not stubborn so he pulled himself up and used the wall to make a shaky first lap. The longer he spent moving, the better he got and, by the end of the two hour party, he was able to make a complete circuit all by himself. His love for skating and finally, finally, being able to do something active grew from there. May and Ben were never able to afford lessons for him but they managed to scrap together enough money for season passes for him every year at the local rink.

Skating reminded him so much of the toddler ballet classes his mom had signed him up for before he had been diagnosed with asthma but so much more fun. He spent just about every weekend he could on the ice for a few hours practicing; he was never really able to do any jumps or anything too fancy but it was still so much fun. It wasn’t until after the spider bite and his life changing forever that he got really good.

It sure sucked that he couldn’t thermoregulate well anymore.

“Petey!” Morgan screamed, delighted, from where she was carefully skating closer to the edge of the frozen over lake under the watchful eye of her father. “Do another flip!”

Peter smiled indulgently and performed a perfect double axel, landing gracefully and gliding over to where Morgan was clapping next to dock. She had good balance for a five year old but the thin blades of her tiny skates still wobbled precariously on the ice due to her enthusiastic cheering.

“Not bad kid,” Tony told him from where he was seated in a camp chair on the dock and covered with blankets, a thermos of warm tea in the cup holder. He had flat out refused to test his luck with skating but, then again, his center of gravity was still off from his upgraded prosthesis.

“Thanks Mr. Stark!” Peter smiled, coming to a stop next to the other two and spraying his mentor with ice. Tony protested wordlessly but his smile let Peter know he wasn’t too serious. Peter absently rubbed his hands against his biceps to bring some warmth back into his skin – part of not thermoregulating well meant minimal to no shivering in the cold so he had to rely on friction – he was clearly not sneaky enough though because he could see the moment Tony clocked the movement and narrowed his eyes.

“Alright Johnny Weir time to go in before you freeze into a spider-sicle,” the man said as he drained the last of his tea and started packing up all of the stuff they had carted down to the frozen lake – more than they really needed in Peter’s opinion. “I promised your aunt I wouldn’t let you get hypothermia this week.”

“Aw daddy,” Morgan whined, skating unsteadily over to collide with Peter’s knees and shins and nearly knocking him off balance and onto his butt. “Five more minutes? Please?”

Morgan was attempting her very best puppy dog expression and Peter joined in when she shoved her pointy little elbow into his thigh. Tony had gotten soft in his old age and Peter could see his resolve crumbling under their combined gaze before he finally cracked with a sigh.

“Fine,” he conceded. “Five more minutes. I’m going to go brew up some hot chocolate. Can I trust you two by yourselves?”

“Yay!” Morgan screamed making Peter clutch his ears as she shakily skated off, getting just a little bolder and heading more toward the middle of the ice where Peter had been doing jumps and flips earlier. “Come on Petey!”

“I’ve got her Mr. Stark,” Peter promised before taking off after the little girl he was beginning to see as a sister, doing a perfect back flip and landing easily on the thin blades of his skates to her delight. At Morgan’s request, Peter continued to skate around her in wide circles, doing more and more elaborate jumps and laughing with her when he fell or stumbled.

“Do the hard one again!” Morgan called out from her spot about fifteen feet away from Peter, standing pretty steady for her lack of practice and Peter smiled indulgently.

“Last time and then we should probably head in before your dad comes after us,” he agreed, skating back into a wide arc before picking up speed and calculating his jump. He planned to land a few feet from Morgan because he knew it would really excite her. Things went pretty great in the beginning, his speed and takeoff were both perfect and his execution, while a little off, was passable enough for his sister.

His landing, however, needed work.

Unlike the ice rink ice he was used to, the frozen lake was pitted and rough. Peter had a little difficultly adjusting when he started but was able to compensate quickly as the afternoon wore on. Unfortunately, he was just a little too late this time to notice the divot and he hit it with his toe pick sending him sprawling onto his front about six feet from Morgan.

“Ouchies,” he muttered as he gave Morgan a thumbs up to show he was okay and started to leaver himself up.

Until he heard the cracking.

He froze immediately and looked down in horror to see the ice below him cracking and shattering. A small part of him wanted to slam his body down flat to better distribute his weight but his logical brain knew it was far too late for that all he needed to do was make sure that…

Morgan!

“I’ll help you Petey!” He heard her yell seconds before she crashed into his side and Peter, thinking fast, double clicked the panic button on his watch just as water started gushing through the cracks, pulling him under.

Morgan screamed and struggled as Peter did his best to keep as much of her as possible out of the water. His head was dunked briefly and his lungs seized from the cold. He felt the sharp blade of Morgan’s skate cut into his shoulder through his puffy jacket and he winced before clawing his way back above water with a gasp. He could hear Morgan still screaming and, gathering all the strength he had left, Peter hurled her from the water and across the ice where she slid safely away from the cracks.

“G-get dad-d,” Peter gritted out through shattering teeth as he gripped the broken edges of the ice. He could vaguely hear Morgan shuffling off the ice and up toward the cabin but his main focus was staying above the water and keeping purchase on the continually shrinking edges of the ice. His legs were completely numb and the metal of his battered skates felt heavy in the water, pulling him down deeper.

“Hang on Peter!” He heard Tony’s panicked voice from the shore before the sound of repulsers drowned out everything else and Peter looked up and made eye contact with the Iron Man suit piloted by FRIDAY. The left hand reached down and plucked him out of the water and into its arms, flying back to land on the porch steps. Peter collapsed on the ground, completely unable to hold up his own weight and feeling completely numb. “Peter!”

Tony skidded to his knees next to Peter, Morgan in his arms before he swiftly set her down on the porch. “C-cold,” Peter gritted out through clenched and chattering teeth as he tried to force his frozen body to curl up with little success. Through blurry eyes he could tell that Morgan had ditched her skates somewhere and he felt a spike of worry – he didn’t want her to get frostbite.

“I know buddy,” Tony said, propping Peter up with his vibranium arm before picking him up in a bridal carry. “I’m going to get you warm.” Peter didn’t do anything to help beyond curling closer to Tony’s chest and the body heat it emitted. The man kicked open the cracked door to the mud room and air so warm it burned cascaded over him. “Morgan go grab some blankets from the closet for Peter okay? Really quick now.” Morgan, crying silent tears and pale and shivering in her damp winter gear, ran off down the hall toward the linen closet.

“Tony,” Peter whimpered when he was set on the floor but the man was quick to shush him.

“I know buddy,” he reassured, “I just need to get these wet clothes off okay? Just let me do all the work. FRI, have Banner and a quinjet here ASAP.” Peter spaced out as Tony whipped Peter’s frozen, wet hoodie over his head followed quickly by the t-shirt and thermals under it. “Eyes up Pete,” Tony ordered as he worked on getting Peter out of his soaked jeans and thermal pants to leave him shaking on the floor in his boxers. “Your only job right now is to stay awake, capiche?\

“Yes sir,” Peter said, willing his eyes to open and his teeth to stop chattering. Morgan slid back into the room trailing a pile of fleece blankets and the comforter off of Peter’s bed and Peter mustered up a smile for her so she wouldn’t be so scared.

“Great job Maguna,” Tony praised as he wrapped the thickest fleece around Peter’s shoulders, doing his best not to jostle him too much. “Now run up to Pete’s room and get him a pair of sweatpants and his black zip up jacket okay?” Morgan hiccuped on a sob but ran out of the room and back up the stairs. Once she was out of the room, Tony wrapped Peter in another blanket before helping him wiggle out of his icy boxers. “FRI update on Bruce?”

“Dr. Banner and Mr. Wilson are on their way, ETA seven minutes. He advises getting Peter out of his wet clothes and wrapped in warm blankets. He recommends not moving him too much.

“Thanks dear,” Mr. Starks said distractedly as he pulled Peter into his arms to provide extra warmth. “How we doing Pete?”

“Tired,” Peter answered, burrowing into Tony’s arms. “Cold.”

“I know kiddo, just hold on a second longer.”

“I got it!” Morgan said as she came back into the room brandishing Peter’s clothes.

“Good job honey,” Tony said as gently as possible as he took the clothes. “Uncle Bruce is on his way and we’re going to go visit the compound. Can you go change into your warmest PJs for me as quick as possible?” As soon as Morgan had left the room again, Tony made quick work of threading Peter’s unwilling and stiff limbs through his pants and jacket, tucking the comforter around them both to lock in the warmth.

“Tony?” Bruce called, voice urgent, from the direction of the front door.

“Mud room!” Tony called back, not moving from his position curled around Peter’s limp body. Footsteps thundered in their direction and Bruce and Sam skidded around the corner a second later both wearing their warmest loungewear and Peter felt a little guilty about pulling them away from a day of relaxation.

“Jesus,” Sam mumbled as he dropped to his knees next to the pair reaching into the blanket nest to press burning fingers to Peter’s carotid to take his pulse.

“How long was he in the water?” Bruce asked, carefully moving Peter’s hair back out of his eyes to look at his pale face. His eyes darted over to the gash on his shoulder from Morgan’s skates that was beginning to bleed sluggishly now that Peter was out of the water and warming up but ignored it for now.

“Only a couple minutes,” Tony told him, an edge to his voice, “but he had been outside for a few hours. We were about to come in for hot chocolate.” The man sounded bereft and Peter cuddled closer into his chest trying to offer some comfort.

“Okay,” Bruce said, calm. “Peter you’re going to let Tony carry you out to the jet. I don’t want you moving more than you absolutely have to so just let him do all the work. Once we get you on board I’m going to start warming you up.” His tone brokered no argument and Tony disentangled himself from the cocoon and picked Peter up. Sam left the room but Peter could hear him talking to Morgan in the kitchen, calming her down and ushering her toward the jet.

Things went a little fuzzy for Peter from there. He was vaguely aware of the quinjet taking off and Bruce and Sam starting warm IV fluid. Warmed oxygen forcing its way down his throat. But he was just so tired. He knows he promised but surely Mr. Stark wouldn’t be too upset if he just took a little nap right? He let his eyes dip closed one last time as he slipped away.

Peter can remember waking up on and off a few times. He remembers getting off the quinjet and being settled in a trauma room in the compound’s MedBay, the heated blankets that felt heavenly to his cold skin. He was out for a while after that he thinks and, when he next wakes up, he’s warmer and much more comfortable.

“Pete?” Peter lets his head fall to the side and he gives Tony a little grin. His mentor looks like shit and is sitting hunched over in an uncomfortable chair next to Peter’s bed. “Oh thank God,” he says, going to grab Peter’s hand and then aborting the motion, leaning forward to press their foreheads together instead. “If you ever scare me like that again you’re grounded until your thirty.”

Peter chuckles a little and shifts on the bed. His arms both have IV catheters in the forearm and he can see blood flowing through the lines. He follows it back to a larger machine set up next to his bed and mutters a hoarse little “what?” of confusion.

“You were too cold so Bruce started warming your blood,” Tony told him, hand reaching up to comb through Peter’s wild hair. “You’re okay now though,” he assured. “You’re on the mend. Bruce said you should be done with this in about an hour so you just need to relax right now okay Bambino?”

“Morgan?” Peter asked instead, dizzy and tired and barely clinging to consciousness.

Tony smiled down at him. “She’s just fine kiddo. You saved her you big damn hero.”

“Good,” Peter slurred, letting his eyes slip closed again. “May?”

“Happy went to get her,” Tony promised. “The roads aren’t too great but they should be here soon.”

“‘Kay,” Peter yawned.

“Take a nap buddy – you earned it,” and, warm and comfortable, Peter did.

[all1e23]

Astrophile [Epilogue]

Chapter:  Epilogue 

Summary: Happy ever after has a few surprises. 

Warnings:  Astrophile fluff & and so much romantic Bucky.

A/N: I can’t believe it’s over but here we are! Okay, it’s not totally over because we still have Astrophile Files. Thanks for hanging in there with me. 

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

July 2021 – One year later

“It’s right, Buck. She’s the one. We’ve all known it since she came to family dinner that first night. Everyone was just waiting for you to catch up.”

 Bucky holds his hand up to the bartender, silently asking for another beer and a glass of water for Y/n as Steve continues right on pestering him. Right here in the middle of their friend’s wedding reception. Maybe it’s attending a wedding that makes people lose their minds? This is the first proper wedding Bucky has been to, and it didn’t take long for him to realize it makes the wedding party and the guests a tiny bit nuts.

“Drop it, Steve.” Bucky drops a few bills into the glass tip jar resting on the bartop – anything to avoid having this conversation with Steve for the twentieth time this month. Steve looks down at him; mouth pressed in a thin line and disappointment pouring off of him.

“I thought you learned your lesson? What are you waiting for, Bucky?”

Bucky pauses at Steve’s question. He didn’t know honestly. They have been dating for a year now, and it’s been good. That’s a lie. It’s been amazing, fantastic, unbelievable – it’s been the most incredible year of Bucky and Ori’s life. Y/n fits right in like she’s always meant to be a part of their lives. She makes every day brighter. She makes him better, a better man and a better father. She helps Ori with homework and school projects like she’s thrilled to do it and the kicker is, she actually is. She hasn’t missed one of Ori’s practices (because Ori picked up the violin over the last year and Y/n didn’t even flinch when the at-home practices started). And the best part of it all, Y/n’s home for dinner every single night because as of six months ago she moved into Bucky’s brownstone.

The only nights Ori spends away from home now are when Bucky takes Y/n on a date which he endeavors to do once a week. Some weeks they don’t make it out the front door, but even if they end up eating pizza on the living room floor, he makes sure Y/n knows how lucky he is to have her. Bucky doesn’t know if there is such a thing as heaven but he’s got a feeling this is the closest he can get to it here on Earth. He’s determined to spend the rest of his life, making sure she never regrets choosing to spend all of her tomorrows loving him.

Bucky truly has no idea what he’s waiting for, he’s had the ring for months now, and Bucky even knows how he’s asking, but it’s not time. The moment has to be as perfect as she is.

“It’s gotta be the right moment, Stevie. I’m waiting for the right moment.”

The table a few feet away catches Bucky’s attention. Peter Parker, a teenager interning for Tony, is sitting on a tiny chair next to Ori with a perplexed look on his face. Peter leans forward on his elbows, watching Ori color on the table cloth at her designated spot at the kid’s table with fierce determination to make her picture better than the boy’s across the table. He is trying to find the best way to ask a six-year-old something that’s been confusing him since the ceremony. Peter only met Mr. Stark a year ago, so he is still trying to get to know everyone, but he thought it was just Ori and her dad. He picks up the crayon Ori abandoned on the table between them and decides he is merely going to spit it out.

“Hey, Ori? Who was sitting with your dad?” Peter asks quietly as he helps her fill in the castle printed onto the fabric in front of them. Tony thought it would be a good idea if the table cloth at the kid’s table were a giant coloring book; entertaining for the kids and parents get to relax. He was right. The kids love it – Peter included.

Ori doesn’t look up from what she’s coloring and tells him. “That’s my mom.”

The crayon in Peter’s hand freezes, and he looks at Ori, thoroughly and properly confused now. Yeah, he doesn’t know every member of each family yet, but he does know that Ori’s mom left right after she was born.

“Uh, your mom, Ori?”

Ori drops her dark blue crayon back into the pail sitting in the middle of the table and finally looks up at Peter long enough to roll her eyes – that’s all Uncle Sam. “Not the mom who left me when I was a baby. My real mom.”

Bucky knows he shouldn’t be eavesdropping on his daughter, but she looks so cute coloring and days like these are getting fewer and fewer the older she gets. So, yeah, he is spying, and he didn’t feel bad about it until that confession. Bucky doesn’t know whether he should faint right there at the bar or ask Y/n to marry him without a ring in the middle of Tony’s reception. He pushes the glasses in his hands into Steve’s chest, forcing him to take them and places a kiss to Ori’s forehead with a resounding smack. She giggles and ‘wipes’ the kiss from her forehead.

“Daaaaddddy!” Ori whines, half serious and half playful.

“Comet!” He says, matching her whine and grinning while he does.

Now, Bucky has someone very important to find.

He scans the crowd of people, close to five hundred showed up for the big day – not that Bucky had expected anything less from Tony, but it isn’t making finding his better half easy right now and he is itching to get his hand on her. He catches sight of her powder blue knee-length dress, covered in silver, shimmery stars and his heart starts to beat a little faster. He navigates his way through the crowd towards her; his one and only.

This morning she had panicked over her outfit for tonight. The dress was too much. The soft blue fabric revealed too much skin with the sweetheart neckline and the sheer fabric littered with silver stars covering her chest and arms made it overly fancy she had said. Bucky had stared at her for a long time when she came out of the bathroom. He was speechless. Yeah, he’s seen her dressed up before, but she wasn’t his then. This was different. He finally couldn’t take it anymore and pulled into her a kiss that nearly ended with the dress torn and crumbled in a pile in its new home on their bedroom floor.

When he pulled back, flushed and nearly breathless, he told her it didn’t matter what she wore. He assured her she was going to be the most beautiful woman in the room regardless of what she picked, so if she wanted to wear the dress, then she should wear it. He was right because, shit – she looks so damn beautiful right now.

Y/n is intently listening to Sam’s tales about Oliver and how bad teething is actually going – regardless of Steve’s sunny optimism on the subject. Bucky overhears the tail end of their conversation, “You’ll see soon enough. Wait till you and Buck have to deal with a screaming baby at four in the morning after he’s been on a forty-eight-hour shift.” If his brain wasn’t short-circuiting from the last conversation he spied on, he would probably examine this talk more, and by examine he means inquire exactly what Sam had meant by soon enough.’

Bucky grabs Y/n’s waist and spins her around capturing her lips in a fiery kiss ignoring the eye roll from Sam. His left hand splays out on her lower back, keeping her pressed firmly against him as his tongue sweeps along her lips only to pull back right as her lips part. She narrows her eyes, and he chuckles, giving in to one more kiss, softer and sweeter than the last.

“Dance with me.” He whispers into their kiss, gently tugging at her bottom lip as he pulls back and walks them back to the dance floor. She doesn’t have much of a choice it looks like – not that she would have said no. The night is coming to a close, and they are down to slow dances only, trying to wind the crowd down, and she would love nothing more than to end the night in Bucky’s arms swaying to I can’t help falling in love with you.

Bucky’s hand tightens around her waist, keeping her pressed securely against his chest as they move around the dance floor. He cradles the hand that should rest on his left shoulder in his own, resting them against his chest. She has no idea what came over him, but she’s not going to bother trying to find out when he’s holding her like this.

“Did you have a good time?” Y/n asks just above the music. Bucky meets her eyes and raises his brow as if that was the silliest question she’s ever asked him. Surely, she knows the answer to that, but he can play along if that’s what she wants.

“‘Course I had a good time. I’m here with you.”

Oh, boy. 

“Smooth talker.”

Bucky chuckles and kisses her lips chastely, squeezing her hand as he does. Y/n sighs happily as their lips part, and she adds, a bit of longing behind her words that Bucky did not miss,“It was a pretty wedding, though.”

Bucky nods in agreement and looks around at the bright red and gold glimmering everywhere. Pearls and diamonds in the flowers, hundreds of candles all over the place, a cake that is nearly taller than Steve and glittery table cloths. There’s even a freaking chandelier in the middle of the tent – they are in the grass for crying out, but Tony has a chandelier.

“A little flashy for my taste but it’s all right,” Bucky says truthfully, looking back at her. The wedding is gorgeous, but it’s nothing close to what he sees when he thinks about marrying the woman in his arms.

“Pepper looks beautiful,” Y/n says eyeing the strawberry blonde in her Justin Alexander ivory gown, clinging to Tony’s arm as they made their way around the cathedral tent, stopping to chat with their guests and thanking everyone for coming. Bucky never looks away from Y/n. He doesn’t need to. Pepper might look beautiful today, but she’s no Beck.

“She’s got nothing on you, sweetheart.”

Y/n grins and shakes her head, trying to hide how flustered she’s getting from such little work on his part. It’s not that she’s not used to it. Once they were official, she learned just how much Bucky had been truly holding back. He’s constantly touching her, always whispering in her ear and trying to make her knees weak. Bucky tries to get her squirming every chance he get, and it seems he can’t stop today. It might have something to do with the kiss he just gave her. Or maybe the one in the limo on the way over (Tony insisted they take a limo) or it could have been the heated makeout session in the shower before they got ready.

Something has him all worked up, and she wants to know what.

“What is with you today?”

Bucky grins, tightening his hold around her waist and dips her unexpectedly. Her giggles fill in the softer notes of the melody, and Bucky lowers his head towards her as if he’s going to kiss her, but instead he whispers, “I’m hopelessly, desperately in love with you. I can’t help it.”

Y/n smiles and lets out a soft, ‘I love you, too’ and Bucky knows she’s trying not to get teary-eyed in front of everyone. He pulls her back to standing, letting her arms settle around his neck this time, he asks, “you think you ever wanna have one of these with me?”

The question gives her back some of her equilibrium and her brow arches, fingers playing with the loose strands that have fallen from his bun as she finds her voice.  “I hope that’s not how you’re asking me.”

Bucky chuckles, and she leans her head on his shoulder to hide the emotions twinkling in her eyes – he’s too good at reading her, and she wasn’t ready for him to catch on just yet. He places a kiss on her head and wraps his arms around her, gently guiding her around the dance floor.

“No, that’s not how I’m asking you. I’ve got somethin’ else in mind for that day.” He whispers against the shell of her ear. He can feel her grinning against his neck, and her breath tickling his skin as she assures him, “Just so you know; however, you ask, I’ll say yes.”

Bucky tightens his arms around her but doesn’t respond. He didn’t think there would be another answer, but hearing it laid out made that ring in the top of the guest room closet a hell of a lot more real. Ori comes pushing through the couples on the dance floor, ditching her dance with Uncle Steve to share one with her parents. Bucky bends down to scoop her up and settles her between them. Y/n places a kiss to her cheek, and Ori lights up in response.

“Did I miss it??” She asks, looking back and forth between them.

Yn pulls back enough to see Bucky’s face and gives him the ‘are you kidding me’ look. Bucky barks out a laugh and shakes his head, “I don’t know what she’s talking about, babydoll. I swear.”

“No, Y/n, did you tell daddy yet?”

Y/n’s eyes go wide as they have a silent conversation – it’s clearly something that’s only between girlfriends, and that’s not always a good thing when it comes to these two. Bucky groans at the thought and settles them both with the best stern dad face he has in his arsenal. 

“Okay, what trouble did the two of you get in? What did you do and what do I have to fix?”

“Nothing!” They say in unison, and Y/n continues, much calmer and still very suspicious.  "We were thinking… maybe you could ask Steve to paint a mural in the guest bedroom? Something with the stars. Sparkly and pretty, maybe?”

Bucky frowns, and the frown continues to deepen thanks to the giddy expressions on his girl’s faces. It was just a painting. What’s the big deal? Something is up. 

“Yeah, I can ask him. It doesn’t have to be me who asks, you know? He would say yes if you asked him, sweetheart.”

“I know that,” Y/n’s fingers tighten around the fabric of his black dress shirt. “I thought you might want to be the one to tell him the news when you do.”

“News?” Bucky’s face twists into something she doesn’t recognize, and it takes everything in her not to fall apart from laughter.

“Actually, we have to redo the whole room. Don’t we, Ori?”

“Yep! With lots of stars and comets and constellations!”

“Get rid of the bed–”

“Yep, no bed.” Ori agrees and adds with a shout, “and rocking chair!”

“Of course, and that old dresser has to go. We need something smaller, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, and maybe a pink one!”

“Or, blue,” Y/n offers but Ori wrinkles her nose and Y/n settles her with a fond, yet scolding expression and Ori reluctantly nods her head.

Bucky shakes his head and comes to a halt, stopping their dance right there in the middle of the floor. He’s completely and utterly lost. “What are you two going on about? Painting and rocking chairs and a pink dresser but not a blue–” Bucky freezes, and his eyes snap up to meet Y/n’s who’s no longer holding her tears back.

Holy shit. He had not been expecting this.

“You mean?”

“Oh, yeah, I mean.”

Bucky smushes Ori between them and sets an attack of kisses on them both, ignoring the tears catching in his lashes. This is the moment. This right here and he’s not letting it slip away. He ends the attack with a kiss to Y/n’s lips and whispers, “Man, I’ve got a really important question to ask you when we get home.”

“Pinky promise, December?”

He grins and swears right back, “Pinky promise, Beck.”

Previous // Masterlist

[l-egionaire]

ULTIMATE SHIP MEME!

Peter Parker X Sophia Sanduval AKA Chat

General:

Rate the Ship -  

Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - Until the other one dies.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Sophia fell for Peter almost the minute they met. Peter took a little longer but he fell hard when he did.

How was their first kiss? - So quick they almost didn't realize it happened. Chat gave Peter a quick peck to the lips before leaving and it took them a moment to realize what just happened.

Wedding:

Who is the best man/men? - That's complicated because peter had two weddings. One in public as Peter Parker and one in private as Spider-Man with his superhero buddies. For his public one it was Harry Osbourn. For his private one it was Johnny Storm.

Who proposed? - Peter. He took Chat on a date to the Bronx Zoo and planned to propose to her but then a supervillain battle broke out. After handling it, he immediately asked her to marry him before something else happened.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Mary Jane Watson. Sophia didn't have a ton of friends when she met Peter due to being a mutant and after meeting each other, she and MJ hit it off.

Who did the most planning? - Sophia for the public one and Tony for the private one. Peter tried to help and even took some time off Spider-Man stuff but he was just really busy.

Who stressed the most? - Peter. He had Miles doing his Spider-Man duties for both weddings but couldn't help but worry something would happen

How fancy was the ceremony? -

Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Sophia's Parents. They threw her out when she was a teen and the last time she saw them wasn't great so it was decided not to invite them.

Sex:

Who is on top? - Sophia. I see Peter as too worried about his super strength to try topping his partner.

Who is the one to instigate things? - Again, Sophia. Pete isn't the type to start things often.

How healthy is their sex life? -

Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? -

Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - A while. Pete's spider-Enhanced Stamina and Chats determination go a long way.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Yeah. They each try to give the other their fair share.

How rough are they in bed? -

Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? -

No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - 1. May Parker-Sanduval

How many children will they adopt? -0

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - They try to keep it even but its usually Sophia.

Who is the stricter parent? -Ironically Peter. His daughter has mutant spider powers so he knows to be careful and keep a close watch on her.

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Peter. He's a serious worrywart.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? -Sophia usually makes the kids lunches.

Who is the more loved parent? - They're loved equally.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Both. Due to physical mutations their child attends Xaviers school so they have meetings with the X-men.

Who cried the most at graduation? - Peter liked to pretend that was sweat but Chat knows better.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Peter. He knows how rough it can be dealing with authorities.

Cooking: 

Who does the most cooking? - Chat. She was already an impressive cook when they met but then she got some lessons from Aunt May. She continues the beautiful Parker tradition of breakfast wheatcakes.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Sophia. She's a vegetarian.

Who does the grocery shopping? -They try to split it between them though Pete often grabs things when on patrols.

How often do they bake desserts? - Sophia sometimes bakes the occasional cake.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Peter is a mete lover while Sophia is a veggie head. They make it work.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Sophia.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Peter. Whenever he wants to give Chat a break from cooking.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - Peter. Master inventor and chemist but terrible cook.

Chores: 

Who cleans the room? - Peter. Spider powers make cleaning a breeze.

Who is really against chores? - Neither.

Who cleans up after the pets? - Sophia since most of them are hers.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Sophia if she's in a rush.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Peter. He rushes to make sure theirs no spider stuff sticking out.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Chat. Some mice told her where it was.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Peter.

Who takes the dog out for a walk? -Chat.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? -If there is anything resembling a holiday coming up they go all out on decorations.

What are their goals for the relationship? - Yo love each other.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? -Peter. Long nights as Spider-man

Who plays the most pranks? - Chat.

[yuulina-vre]

Gifting you a new life

Grocery shopping

Pairing: Steve x Bucky, Reader insert 

Warnings: None 

Word count:  3003 words 

Part: Four

Summary: Y/N and Steve are going grocery shopping.

Masterlist

* * *

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Y/N shoots Steve a unbelieving look. “Steve. You had a migraine yesterday that let you faceplant twice, made you hit your head and nearly forced a concussion on you and got you to flirt with a stranger that you can’t remember anymore. I’m sorry if I don’t believe you when you say ‘you’re fine’.” She crosses her arms to give her words more strength. It seems to work since Steve starts blushing a little and ducking his head in shame. “I apologized.”

“I don’t need you to apologize, Steve. I need you to take care of yourself and not to force you to work when you clearly should take a day to recover.” The blonde men sighs but nods, though, Y/N can see that he won’t stay home like she hopes. “Fine, go to work, but I will force you home if I see as much as flinch at any louder sound or bright light.” She pints a finger at his chest and is rewarded with a heavy gulp and a nod. “Okay. Let’s go.” She grabs her bag from the kitchen table, quickly pushes her lunch into it and walks outside. She knows that Steve’s following so she doesn’t turn around but gets into the drier seat of the car. Steve eyes her with a slight growl and gets in beside her. He hates it if he’s not driving but doesn’t say anything, knowing that he won’t win that argument as well. While driving and replaying her decision to let Steve go to work, she remembers the card from Bucky. She hadn’t had any time showing it to Steve until know. They only had discussed the event of the last day at the breakfast table and even then, it was just a short conversation filled with lots of pancakes, juice, and coffee. “Steve, do you happen to know a James Barnes?”

“James…? No, don’t think so, why?” While driving with one hand she reaches for her jeans pocket and tries to get the card out of it, having shoved it there yesterday evening. “What are you doing? Get your hand back on the wheel!” Steve almost screeches but Y/N rolls her eyes. “Chill. Here. He was the guy that helped me yesterday.” She passes the little white card to Steve before getting her hand back on the wheel while sending a look to him. Steve nods before looking at the card. “Hmm, doesn’t look familiar. Oh, he s from the military.”

“He seemed determined and wants you to call him. It seemed important to him. He looked disappointed when he noticed that he couldn’t talk to you yesterday.”

“What exactly did he want?” Steve lifts his eyes to look at her but Y/N shrugs. “I don’t know. He didn’t really say. But he looked serious, only said that they found something that probably belongs to your father.”

“M-my father?” Steve inspects the card again. “He’s working in the lost-and-found office.” His voice suddenly sound toneless, without emotion and total neutral. Y/N glances quickly over to him. He’s staring at the card but his grip had intensified, knuckles turning a little white.

“What exactly is the lost and found department?”

“It’s, eh…” Steve shakes his head and sits up fully, groaning as the light his him directly into the face but covers it quickly with clearing his throat. “They return things people lost while on the battlefield. The found things go to the lost-and-found office and they try to find the people. It’s a difficult thing to do, not very easy I assume. Sometimes they have to give it to the family that’s left. I think there is pretty much emotion combined with the task since… Since most of the thing belonged to soldiers that… didn’t make it.”

“Do you think, that whatever bucky has, really belonged to your father?” She watches as Steve sinks a bit into the car seat. His expression isn’t readable, but Y/N thinks she sees some kind of hope in his eyes. She knows Steve loved his dad. And she knows he was really sad, still is, after he passed away. He has almost no memory of him, only some pictures his Ma left behind. His eyes wander instantly over to a picture of his parents on dashboard. “Maybe.” He throws a last look to the card before he throws it into the glove compartment and closes his eyes. The rest of the ride is silent. Y/N’s eyes switch back to him from time to time, hoping she didn’t make him uncomfortable.

 * * *

 “Y/N! You come shopping with me later?” Y/N looks up from her lunch in the cafeteria to see Steve come walking towards her, bright smile on his face and oblivious to all the girls staring at him. “Why?” She looks at him, a bit skeptical, sandwich still half in her mouth. He never asks her to accompany him because, when she does, they always buy more that is on the list. “No reason.” Steve shrugs and sits down opposite her, trying to look innocent. “Uhuh, okay, I just pretend I don’t know that you have something in mind and go along. But no complaining.” She points her fork from the salad at him and Steve lifts his hands in surrender. “I promise.”

“By the way. Did you hear from Bucky?”

“Bucky?”

“Mr. Barnes.” Y/N wriggles her eyebrows at Steve, making him blush while he probably remembers the events of last night yet again. Steve had promised to call him but Y/N suspects him to chicken out on it since he hate calling people. “I-I- W-why would I hear from him?” Steve clears his throat and looks around to see if any student is listening in on them. “Come on Steve, really? You’re supposed to call him. He’s waiting to har from you. And you did flirt with him.”

“A-and?”

“And? Steve! You like him, you’re blushing!” Y/N leans forward to throw a pointed look at him. “I do not.”

“You really want me to pull my pocket mirror from my bag and show you?” She raises a eyebrow and smirks as Steve quickly shakes his head, blush intensifying. “And I think he likes you, too.”

“Wha- How do you know?”

Why else would he willingly get a stranger to the toilet and back? He must like you.”

“He does not.”

“Steve!” Y/N hits him with her fork against the forehead. “He has to. He laughed at your attempted flirt. No one ever does!” She falls back into her chair with a disbelieving expression. She stares at Steve for a while, how he squirms on his chair until he looks at her. “Yeah okay, fine. I might like him, at least what I think I remember.” She points her fork at him again, this time with a noodle still on it and a smirk on her face. “So, are you going to call him now?”

“Now?”

“Yes, why not? He’s waiting for your call and lunchtime is as good as any other time.” She shrugs and shoves the fork into her mouth. “I-I don’t know.” Steve rubs his neck once again and stares outside. “Steve. He’s a really nice guy. I don’t know what you think would happen. Besides, it’s not like you have anything better to do, right?”

“Actually, I have to get the assignment ready.”

“That can wait the ten minutes it needs to call him.” Steve gives a forced smile before he clears his throat and stands up. “I meet you at the car.” Then he leaves quickly to escape more of Y/N’s incoming ‘harassment’. She settles on a deep sigh and shoves another fork of noodles in her mouth. She will make him call that man! She quickly finishes her lunch and puts her tray away, waving at some of her students and colleagues before she walks down the halls to get to her classroom.

She sits at her desk and gets some of her papers, filled with notes for the lessons, out of her bag and places them neatly on the desk before she roams through the classroom to get all the utensils the pupils will need. While she prepares each desk with brushes, waterglasses, canvases and paints the students start to filter in. lunch break still goes on for about ten minutes. “Hello, Ms. Y/L/N.” The brunette boy that enters the class with two friends’ waves at her. “Hello Peter. Hello Michelle, Ned.” She nods at the three teenagers and wonders briefly why they enter her class. They’re actually in one of Steve’s classes and should head over to his history lesson now. “Do you have a moment for us?”

“Oh, eh. Sure.” She motions for her desk, abandoning the paint sprinkled aprons on one of the desks. “What can I do for you?” The boy squirms a bit in front of her, pulling on the sleeves of his pullover and looking at his friends. Ned is tipping on his phone while Michelle only looks disinterested around the room. “Peter?”

“I-I… Listen Ms. Y/L/N. I know I’m actually in Mr. Rogers class and that you only see me when you take over his classes but I hoped you could help me out, since you’re friends with Mr. Roges and I really don’t know how to tal-”

“Peter.” Y/N interrupts him, smiles kindly at him and places a hand on his shoulder. “Take a deep breath and then get to the point.”

“Ah.. okay. Erm… See, I only got into Mr. Rogers class because MJ and Ned are in it but I know I’m not good in it and that I’m going to fail it, so I thought you could put in a word for me? Please?”

“Oh.” She had expected him to ask for help with the class in a private tuition way but not this. “I’m sorry, Peter. I don’t think I can do that.”

“Oh.” To say the boy looks crestfallen is an understatement. “But I’ve already talked to Ste- Mr. Rogers about your engineering plans and all. We thought it might be good to talk to Mr. Stark. Maybe we can transfer you to one of his classes. This way you won’t fail your art class. But you might have to get all the years’ worth of stuff in your head in just one week to pass the engineering class.” Peter’s face goes from sad to surprised to happy and back to sad. “That is if Mr. Stark agrees. Otherwise, you have to just fail Steve’s class. You could ask him to write a paper to change your grade.” Y/N shrugs and makes up her mind to talk to tony and Steve after this class. Peter nods. “I will, thank you.” He quickly waves at her and before she even knows what’s happening, he’s gone again and the rest of her class trickles in.

 * * *

 The class goes by nicely, the students actually try their best and Y/N is pretty proud of them. After all, exams are right on the doorstep. Y/N packs her things and walks down to the parking lot. Steve is already waiting, running up and down next to his pickup but stops as he sees Y/N coming closer. He smiles shortly before he gets into the car. Y/N raises her eyebrows but follows him. “Did you call him?”

“Who?” Steve plays innocent and Y/N rolls her eyes. Of course, Steve doesn’t answer her questions in the car. “Steve. This can go two ways.” Y/N crosses her arms and send him a look of annoyance. “And that are which?”

“Either you call him and invite him for dinner, I’ll cook something special or…”

“Or?”

“Or I’m calling him.” Steve looks at her and Y/N looks at him. Neither of them saying more. “Thaaat doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Yeah. But if I’m calling him then I’ll make you cooking dinner and we both know how that will turn out.”

“You wouldn’t!” Steve gasps in horror. Y/N smirks, knowing well enough that Steve can’t cook for saving his life. She doesn’t even know how he lived on his own before they moved in together. Probably ordered take out every day. So now she decides to let her arms crossed and only raise an eyebrow, letting him squirm until he nods. “Okay, okay. I’ll call him… After shopping.”

“Steve, you’re an adult. I don’t know why you don’t like calling people. You have to do it on a regular basis.”

“I just don’t like it.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Can we just agree that I’m calling him after shopping?!” She all but blurts in a panic. Y/N sighs and shakes her head. “Fine.” She nods and lets Steve drive in silence to the grocery store.

They park and get out of the car to take a cart before they walk into the store. Y/N leads Steve through aisle after aisle until she stops. “Oh Steve, you’re in deep shit.” She turns around and eyes him knowingly. “What?” Steve looks confused. The smirk she shows him sends his face into a panic. “What?” He squeaks again and looks around.

“How good that you asked me to accompany you. Who knew that a certain someone would be shopping here, too? So, know you talk to said someone instead of calling and we still get our shopping done.” Steve frowns a moment until he sees the someone she’s talking about and gets so red in his face that Y/N blurts out laughing. “Go on you hero.” Y/N takes Steve’s arm and pushes him in the direction she just spotted the brunette ex-soldier. Steve stops though and squeezes her hand with a fond smile. “Y/N! I can’t. what am I going to say?”

“That is for you to figure out.” She chuckles and carefully loosens his hand on her arm. “Just invite him for dinner, Casanova.” She watches him frown a second and cleans his sweaty hands on his jeans before he walks in the direction of the other man and tap his shoulder. Bucky turns around, a little confused but then smiles brightly as he sees Steve. They talk for a moment, Steve pointing behind him with his thumb and bucky lanes a little to the side and catches Y/N’s eyes. He waves at her, still smiling, and she waves back before she actually turns away and continues the shopping.

She sees both of them a few times, walking together through the aisles. Sometimes they’re both blushing and Y/N thinks that there’s a little bit of awkward flirting involved. At some point Y/N got everything that’s on the list, and a little more, and searches for both men again. They’re just standing in the animal aisle and Y/N watches for a moment. Bucky takes a package of cat food and adds it to the cart, laughing at something that Steve had said. She’s reluctant to interrupt, wanting them both to get closer. She already ships both of them since they seem to get along so well. She can’t check out and get the stuff into the car on her own, though. Steve has the keys. She walks slowly up to them, smiling as she hears both of them laughing. “Hello Bucky.”

“Y/N.” Bucky smiles back and Steve turns around. He looks a little annoyed that she interrupts but recovers as he sees the full cart. “Was that all on the list?” He quirks an eyebrow at her and Y/N laughs. “Of course not. But you promised you won’t be mad, so you can’t. And it’s your fault anyway for letting me do it on my own.” That makes Bucky laugh. Steve’s head spins around to the man and a fond smile forms on his face. They talk while going to pick up the last things Bucky needs and walk to the check out. The moment Y/N has paid she feels that Steve and Bucky are a little disappointed that they have to say goodbye now. “Bucky, it was nice to see you again.” Y/N smiles at him and he smiles back. “Yeah, I’m glad too.” They smile at each other and /N catches Steve staring a little, so she nudges him in the ribs. “Well, I’m waiting at the car. Keys?” Steve startles a little, looks embarred but gives her the keys. She gives him that look again before slowly pushing her cart away. “Maybe you should come over for dinner? Tomorrow? As a thank you for helping me?” Y/N hears Steve ask and looks over her shoulder, while pushing the cart painfully slow to listen in. Steve has a light blush on his cheeks. “Oh. I-” Bucky looks at Steve with a blush of his own and then nods. “I would like that.”

“Great! I-I mean, eh, great. Yeah.” Y/N rolls hear eyes at his awkwardness. How he’s ever going to get a date is beyond her. After a few second, she hears hurried steps behind her as Steve quickly catches up with her. They’re are almost at Steve’s car as they hear a shout. “Steve! Wait a sec.” They turn around and see Bucky running up to them. Y/N quickly walks further to not disturb them, knowing that this conversation is something that’s not for her ears. Probably. She sees that they both shuffle nervously and Steve nods with the brightest smile she has seen in years. Bucky blushes a little, nods, too, and walks away then. Steve comes up to her as she loads the car, still smiling and a dreaming look on his face. “What did he want?” Y/N raises her eyebrows with her own little smile. Steve looks back at Bucky, who loads his own car now and Y/N has the feeling that he’s smiling, too. “He asked me if I like football.” Steve stares at her before he grabs her shoulders and shakes her, smile widening. “Y/N! He looks so handsome and is funny and he’s coming over to watch football and eat dinner with us!”

Previous Part / Next Part

[cagestark]

-Defender//6-

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

just a lil chapter. Next is the last.

Read here on AO3.

-

Tony’s hand isn’t as burned as he feared. Once the initial redness wears off, the skin is just tinted pink and a little raw. Still Rhodey supervises down in Tony’s lab while the younger man applies burn cream to the tender skin. On top of all the callouses and scars that his hands already bear, he’s surprised he even feels it at all.

“I’ve never heard you so quiet before,” Rhodey says from where’s he’s seated on a stool on the other side of the lab table, the surface strewn with first aid supplies. The man’s dark eyes track his every move, mouth in its characteristic frown. “I’ve never actually heard you be quiet at all. This must be serious.”

“It’s not, really,” Tony says. But as he says it, he loses his confidence. What happened upstairs seems pretty serious: seriously concerning, seriously unexpected. In a deep, vulnerable place, Tony was seriously grateful. “Peter is protective. I recruited him a few weeks ago when I found him scaling the side of the building.”

Rhodey’s eyebrows climb up his sloped forehead. “Mutant?”

“Enhanced,” says Tony, slowly refilling the first aid supply kit. “Bitten by a radioactive spider, believe it or not. He’s got super strength, agility, and scopulae that help him stick to nearly any surface like Velcro.”

“Goddamn.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

“So why are you the surface he’s stuck himself to?” Rhodey asks.

Tony lets the question linger, pondering it. This is Rhodey, who has seen him in all manners of debauchery, who has seen every high and low of Tony’s up-close-and-personal for the last thirty years—but that doesn’t mean it gets any easier to see the disappointment in his face. It doesn’t mean that Tony doesn’t fear losing one of the last people who cares about him, who tolerates him at all.

At last Tony says, “I think he’s kind of in love with me.”

“Kid’s got a crush?”

“Yeah,” Tony admits. “And—he’s not the only one.”

Rhodey sighs, reaching up to rub at his forehead. “Jesus, Tones. How old is he?”

“Legal. Not that it makes it any better with more than twenty years between us. Steve doesn’t approve. He thinks I’m grooming the kid.” 

“These people don’t know you at all,” Rhodey says. “Tony. Tony, look at me. That’s not the kind of guy you are.” 

“He’s the most righteous man alive,” Tony says. His hands shake, weakness, like leftover DT’s from the day she stopped drinking an inordinate amount of alcohol and only indulged on occasion. Weakness. All he’s made from are a dozen different weaknesses stitched together into the shape of a man. “You know me. Obviously I’m not one for self-reflection. But when the man who used to kill Nazis for a living always thinks the worst of me, maybe it’s because there is worse in me.

“Peter treats me like the sun shines out of my ass, all because I treat him like a fucking human being, but he barely knows me. If there’s one thing history has taught me, it’s that there’s Captain America’s side, and then there’s the wrong side. I always end up on the other side. Always. If Peter isn’t careful, he’s going to end up there with me, and that’s not what I want for him. He’s good, I think. In his core.” 

“So are you,” Rhodey says. “None of the Avengers know you, and you don’t even know yourself. If you did, you wouldn’t let yourself be treated like this. At least this kid seems to have some sense, even if he’s subtle as a brick wielding it. I feel a lot better about spending so much time in DC knowing that someone is here and in your corner.”

-

Peter rests his forehead against one of the glass floor-length window panes in his room, mouth full of sticky-sweet cherry flavored pastry. He can barely taste it. Up this high, Manhattan looks fake beneath him, a toy city that he should take care not to step on, like the lego structures he used to leave out around May’s apartment when he was a boy. 

May. The pain of losing her never gets easier. There is no coping, there is just forgetting. Times when his mind is so full up with other things that there is no room for even her, when he’s working on a machine, when he’s training with Natasha in the gym. Then in moments like this, her memory comes rushing back in, and it’s like the grieving process starts over. She dies again to him, every day. 

Are you ashamed of me? Peter wonders, looking into the cloudless sky. There is no answer. 

May had never liked violence, but she was fierce in her own way. She believed in justice, she believed in compassion. Would she think he overreacted in the kitchen when he’d threatened to tear off another enhanced’s limb? Or would she think him justified, if she knew of the things Steve and the rest of the team had done to Tony? Just thinking about it makes his blood boil. People who had hurt Tony physically and emotionally, people who had no respect for him, people who still took advantage of every bit of his goodwill. Unremorseful people. 

Glancing down, Peter sees that he’s crushed his other poptart to crumbs. Kneeling down to sweep them into the palm of his hand, his spine goes stiff, just a brief moment of warning—someone at the door, not Steve, not Tony, someone—before there is a firm knock. Abandoning the crumbs, Peter opens the door a crack, afraid of who might be on the other side. 

A dark, serious complexion greets him. 

“Hi,” Rhodey says. “Can I come in?” 

“Of course,” Peter says, opening the door wide to let him past. He catches a brief glimpse of the other Avengers standing huddled together, eyeing Peter’s room with wariness before he shuts the door on the image. 

It must look strange, a young man whose room is so empty. No photographs on the wall, no pile of clothes on the floor, no posters or game consoles. The bed is made (unslept in most nights, though Rhodey would have no way of knowing that sometimes Peter feels more comfortable in enclosed spaces, that he curls up inside the closet empty except for clothes hangers or that he crawls underneath the bed to sleep). Combined with his display in the kitchen, he can’t imagine what the older, distinguished man must think of him. 

“Is Tony’s hand okay?” Peter asks. He can still hear the pained hiss the man made when the steaming coffee spilt onto his bare flesh. It makes that feeling come up in Peter all over again, that feeling like he has swallowed fire, fury like acid that eats at his stomach, fury that he wants to spit out at someone. At Steve Rogers. “I should have stayed to make sure.” 

“It might blister,” Rhodey says. “But he gets worse down there in his lab on the daily. That’s not why I’m here.” 

“Why are you here then?” 

“Tony is important to me. The most important person in my life except for my own mother. I’ve been watching his back since he was a teenager, and short of dying, nothing’s ever going to change that. That’s either going to make us friends or enemies, Parker. Your choice.” 

On the lengthy list of threats Peter’s received in his life, this is easily the most charming. Rhodey isn’t even enhanced. Peter could kill him without breaking a sweat, could tear his head from his body, could pull off his arms and legs the way other kids do to spiders, to smaller, weaker creatures. But there’s still something formidable about the other man. At the very least, there is something respectable. 

“Anyone in Tony’s corner is someone I want to be friends with,” Peter admits. 

Rhodey’s expression softens. He holds out a hand that Peter meets with his own. “Then you’re alright by me, kid. You could use a lesson in picking your battles, though. It doesn’t take enhanced powers of deduction to see that Rogers wants you off the team.” 

“I’ll fight any battle that protects Tony.” 

“And when you’re on the bench because Rogers has convinced the Powers that Be that you’re too unpredictable to be in the field? Who’s going to be protecting Tony then? Too many injuries have happened on missions because not a single one of them can be counted on to have Tony’s back. You could change that, if you’d get a grip on your temper,” Rhodey says. Peter’s shoulders sag—he hadn’t even thought of that. 

“Sometimes I can’t help it,” Peter admits. “It feels like there’s this monster inside of me. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde or something. When they say something bad about Tony or when they hurt him, some flip inside me gets switched. How do I stop?” 

“You’ve got to choose what’s more important to you,” Rhodey says. “Protecting Tony or avenging him.” 

For a long time after Rhodey leaves, Peter stands at the wall of windows, staring out unseeing at the city below while he cycles through everything that Colonel Rhodes said, wondering again and again, Why can’t Peter do both?

-

“This is like, a foreign language to me,” Peter mutters, flipping through the textbook that Tony had retrieved for him. The cover reads FUNDAMENTALS OF ELECTRICAL ENGINEERING. The glossy margins are filled with Tony’s tiny scrawl, and Peter runs his fingers reverently over the writing trying to imagine a fifteen year old boy scribbling on each page. He’s seen pictures, newspapers archived on the New York City Public Library computers of a young, handsome boy crouched beside a robot he built, smiling into the camera. Fifteen years old, and this had been nothing to Tony. Peter is twenty and it takes him ages to get through a single paragraph, googling foreign terms on his phone and struggling to understand the abstract concepts. 

Tony glances up from his StarkPad. He balks at the expression on Peter’s face and turns the tablet off, sitting it aside. “Come over. We can go through it together.” 

“You’d explain it to me?” Peter asks, raking his eyes over the older man’s face. Fuck, Tony is so handsome. That look he’s giving Peter, too, the unbearably tender kind, the fond kind, it makes him all the more beautiful. He’s not above asking Tony for help. His pride was one of the first things he had to let go of when he began to live and sleep rough. “I feel like an idiot.” 

“You’re far from an idiot,” Tony says. He pats the seat next to him and they sit shoulder to shoulder, close enough that Peter can soak up the man’s warmth, struggling not to sway ever closer. Tony has his own gravity, and Peter often feels helpless to it. “You’re self-taught. It’s no wonder that a lot of this technical jargon isn’t connecting.” 

They make it through the first chapter together, and Tony was right—much of it Peter was familiar with, though it hadn’t been presented in terms he knew. Tony is an excellent teacher, too. Patient and insightful, witty. He soothes Peter’s fears that he isn’t smart enough, builds confidence in him that maybe he could learn to be an engineer the way he’d always dreamed. 

“We should send you to school,” Tony says afterwards, handing Peter a chilled Coke from the refrigerator. “An Avengers Scholarship, maybe. Full ride, all the amenities, only the best schools and tutors.”

“You mean you won’t be my private tutor, Mr. Stark?” Peter asks, letting his eyes get wide and sweet. Most older men find the guileless thing sexy, but Tony just laughs at him. 

“I wouldn’t want to put your education in jeopardy. People will hardly be able to say I’m an unbiased educator,” Tony says. The warm, dark eyes drop to Peter’s mouth for just a moment before looking away, drinking deeply from his own Coke. “Though I’m sure we could come up with some incentive program for good grades.” 

“Incentive program, oh,” Peter laughs. “I like the—”

An alarm begins to sound, loud enough that Peter feels it in his teeth and deeper. It’s louder, harsher than the sound of Tony’s doorbell. The reaction it evokes in the older man is visceral as well, eyes going wide, jaw going tight as he taps at his glasses. The sound cuts out of the penthouse, but Peter can hear it continuing on in the floors below. 

“What’s wrong?” Peter asks. “Are we under attack?” 

“Someone is. That’s the alarm for the Avengers to assemble.” 

-

The people under attack are on the west coast. Some ‘half-rate magician’ (Dr. Stephen Strange’s words, not Peter’s) had accidentally conjured inter-dimensional creatures that they couldn’t control nor send packing. The Avengers are being sent to round them up and with the assistance of Dr. Strange, send them back to where they’ve come from. 

For the first time, Peter meets Director Nick Fury, a black man with one eye and a direct way of speaking that Peter can appreciate. Around the table are seated seven other Avengers: Natasha, Steve, Clint, Sam, Wanda, Vision, and Tony himself. After Fury ends his briefing on the situation, Steve stands and begins to formulate the briefest bones of a game plan and—

Peter isn’t in it. 

“Sorry, kid,” Steve says. “You’re not yet cleared for field work. Maybe next time.” 

“I’ve been working with Natasha for weeks,” Peter says. Colonel Rhodes words play on a loop in Peter’s brain, and they’re his lifeboat in the sea of anxiety that threatens to drown him. Peter needs to stay calm and play it cool. It’s the only way he’ll be allowed to have Tony’s back, and he must have Tony’s back. “This seems like the perfect mission for me to get my feet wet.” 

Tony sits beside Peter, silent and stiff. Director Fury watches all of them with a cool, knowing gaze when he says, “He’s got a point, Captain.” 

“We’ve got protocols for a reason,” Steve says. “Putting you in the field before you’re ready is an easy way to get hurt, Pete. Sorry, but the answer is no.” 

All eyes turn to Fury, who nods to Steve magnanimously. “Don’t look at me,” he tells them. “That’s your team leader. It’s his call.” 

Peter listens to the rest of the plans with his hands clenched in his lap, knuckles turning white. He cycles through every stage of grief, and as soon as the team breaks to head to the room where the helicarrier will take them to California, Peter catches one of Tony’s wrists to keep him from filing out of the room, just another soldier under Captain Rogers’s command. 

“Please don’t go,” Peter mutters. Director Fury watches them unabashedly, his arms crossed. Tony lifts a hand to ruffle Peter’s hair, but the expression on his face is downright grim.

“Don’t worry about me, kid,” Tony says softly. “I’ve been doing this gig for years now, and I haven’t died yet.” 

That doesn’t comfort Peter at all. When Tony leaves, he takes all the warmth with him until Peter feels chilled to the bone. 

“Parker. Nice to officially meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Director Fury says. He doesn’t offer his hand to shake, and neither does Peter. 

“From who?” Peter wonders out loud. “Captain Rogers?”

Fury hums noncommittally. “Don’t worry about Stark. He is an asset to the Avengers, and I will do all I can to ensure his safety.” 

“With all due respect Director Fury—he is not just an asset,” Peter says. Too afraid of what else might come from his mouth, come straight up from that dark place inside of him fueled by fear and anger and hurt, Peter lets his feet guide him back to the elevator. Without asking, FRIDAY takes him up to Tony’s penthouse. When Tony gets back, Peter plans to move back in (so long as the older man wants him to). He tells himself that again and again. When Tony gets back. When. 

Peter sits and he waits.

[darker-soft-starker]

My Best Friends Dad Pt. 2 (Pt.1, Pt.3, Pt.4)

4.9k tagging: @starkerkitty @keepingupwiththekardamomme @valiantthewriter

December had brought Peter back home for the winter holidays, saddled with a duffle full of laundry he’d never gotten around to doing and bone-deep exhaustion. The first thing he did upon arrival was flop down on his bed and sleep for fourteen hours straight, still in his jeans and sneakers, drooling onto his pillow. Second was to spend some proper time with his Aunt - and the third was catching up with his friends. His dear, dear friends. 

“I can’t believe he broke up with you, what an asshole.”

Pursing his lips around the straw of his strawberry milkshake and sucking, Peter watches the interaction with interest as MJ shrugs from across the table. She doesn’t look too bothered by her recent single status if the disinterested lift of her shoulders is of any indication.

“Tinder boys. I’m not exactly heartbroken,” is all she says in response, stealing a fry from Neds’ plate and chewing it leisurely.

Peter raises his eyebrows at her in a deliberate fashion, dipping his chin when she catches his dubious gaze.

“What’re you looking at, nerd?”

“Since when are you on Tinder?” he asks, reaching over to steal a fry of his own, frowning when Ned slaps his wrist.

“Question is, Petesicle,” Harley cuts in, nabbing his own fry from Ned’s plate, “why are you not on Tinder?”

Peter shrugs, the back of his neck going warm. “I just like meeting people the old fashion way?”

“Vintage,” MJ nods.

“It’s not vintage.”

“Can you guys stop,” Ned interrupts as all three go to reach for his plate at the same time. It’s par for the course that he gets ignored by everyone. Huffily conceding defeat  he slides the meal into the centre of the table. Ned’s nice like that, Peter thinks as he steals two more fries.

“What about him, he’s your type, right?” Harley says, pointing towards a tall male at the entrance of the diner. Peering over, the man looks to be in his thirties, carries himself with careless ease, hair sandy and artfully windswept. It’s the middle of winter but he’s in a t-shirt, undoubtedly to parade the bulge of his biceps.

Peter shakes his head. “Really not my type.”

“Dude, he’s fucking hot,” his best friend says in near disbelief, leering shamelessly and winking when the man notices him staring. “He’s my type.”

“He’s like twice your age,” Ned adds, eyebrows drawing together as he assesses the guy. “He probably has a kid or something.”

“Yeah, so? That just means he has more experience.”

“Amen to that,” MJ says, fistbumping Harley even as Ned fixes them a judging stare.

Peter watches as the guy walks towards the counter, hips swaying with an over-confident swagger. The sunglasses tucked into the collar of his cotton shirt drags the material down to reveal the skin of his chest, shiny and hairless. The guy even winks flirtatiously at the poor girl behind cashier who looks distinctly unimpressed.

“Yeah, no thanks.”

MJ rolls his eyes at him, kicking her foot out under the table and connecting with his shin. “Okay, and when was the last time you got your dick wet, Parker?”

Peter kicks her back.

“Does it matter?”

“Dunno dude, you seem a little tense.”

“Yeah, because I’m busy with school and work. Getting some isn’t exactly a top priority right now.”

“You’re on winter break,” MJ corrects.

He somehow barely withholds the urge to gesture wildly around him, as if to articulate his lack of options, the only people in the diner besides them and the not-hot guy being an elderly couple and some middle-school kid. He fails to suppress the heat that noticeably paints his cheeks pink, forever uncomfortable with being the centre of attention. His friends are the absolute worst. He’s going to put them all up for sale.

“I’m just...enjoying being single for once. Y’know, just happy to just be by myself.”

Even Ned stares at him blankly. “There’s no one in this entire town you would mess around with?”

Peter scoffs. “No.”

“Not even the hot girl that works at Dairy Queen?”

“No.”

“Dude, even I’d fuck her,” MJ adds, looking slightly offended on her behalf.

“Can I remind everyone that I’m here to spend time with May and you guys - I’m not here to get laid?”

--

“Oh fuck, fuck… Tony that’s, ahh yeah, right there --”

Using the grip he has on Tony’s hair, he manoeuvres him to bring his lips from where they were sucking at his neck up to his own. Tony doesn’t falter at the change, and surges forward to deepen their kiss, groaning into Peters’ mouth. God, Tony is so good with his tongue, Peter thinks as their kiss turns filthy, the mans stubble coarse against his chin as their lips slide together. His friends weren’t wrong about men with experience - although it might just be natural talent too.

The hands on his ass squeeze tighter and he can’t help but arch his back a little, moaning as Tony bites at his bottom lip. Peter sits perched on a dusty worktable with Tony firmly between his legs, they’re wrapped together so tightly he can no longer smell the sawdust and engine oil.

“We should, uh -” he pants against Tony’s mouth, pulling back a little. “We should slow down. Harley could…”

“Yeah,” the man agrees, but doesn’t pull away. If anything, he uses the grip on Peter’s ass to slide him closer. Tony dips his head to latch on to a sensitive spot beneath his jaw, scraping his teeth against the skin and soothing it with his tongue.

“I’m - hahh, oh my god - I’m serious,” Peter insists, even as he locks his ankles behind Tony and grinds his hips forwards, seeking friction against the mans stomach. It’s hard to remember what his point was, head hazy with the scratch of stubble against his neck, in perfect conjunction with the wet, sucking heat of Tony’s mouth, the pinch of his teeth against the column of Peter’s throat.

What was he saying again?

Oh, right.

“Harley might --”

Tony pulls back a little to give him a judgemental stare, but pointedly keeps his hands on Peter’s ass.

“You’ve said my sons’ name more in the past five minutes than you have mine. Should I be worried? Working a bit harder? Feedback is always appreciated, just not always considered.”

Although he knows the affrontedness is all an act, the man just looks looks so put out, pouting ever so slightly,  Peter can’t help but cup Tony’s cheeks, planting a quick kiss on his lips. Tony predictably tries to deepen it but Peter leans back, grinning.

“I’m just saying, he’s gonna wake up soon and wonder where we are.”

Tony sighs, head tilting downward. “Were you always such a boy scout?”

“Were you always such a horny, old lech?” Peter retorts, carding his fingers through Tony's hair as the man noses along his neck.

“Yes,” Tony says seriously, nipping at the skin sharply. “Since birth.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep, I’m told it’s incurable. Don’t want to complain or anything, but it’s a real hardship.”

“Yeah,” Peter agrees, smiling dumbly as Tony leans in to brush their lips together. “I can tell.”

For a few quiet moments they trade slow, lazy kisses, Peter easily sinking into the warmth of the man in front of him and relaxing into his embrace. It’s not hard to be with Tony like this, wrapped in their little bubble, like nothing outside it exists and quickly forgetting it does.

One of the Tony’s hands slip under his shirt to delicately caress the small of his back, calloused fingers sending tingles up his spine. Peter is almost tempted to say fuck it and throw off his shirt, hop off the table, sink to his knees and give Tony the sloppiest blow-job of his life. But he knows his best friend too well. As much as it’s a turn off to think, he knows that after a good solid ten hours sleep Harley’d be crawling out of bed - which would be right around now.

“I just missed you, baby,” Tony says against his lips when they part, the words a vibration against Peters mouth, big brown eyes are soft and glazed as they track over Peter’s face.

“Missed you too,” he whispers between them.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come up to see you more often.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be, its --”

“No, I should have --”

“Dad, you in there?” Harleys voice yells from a few feet away, outside. “Have you seen Peter?”

“Fuck,” Peter mutters, pushing Tony away from him and sliding off the table. His heart pounds as he straightens his shirt and adjusts himself in his jeans. Tony does the same and calls out to confirm they’re both in the garage.

They spare a shared glance as they continue efforts to themselves look more presentable and Peter can only hope that his lips don’t look as kiss-swollen as Tonys’ do. There’s no more than a spare second to arrange themselves at the open hood of a car before the garage door swings open, handle banging against the wall.

“ - and that’s how you can tell the difference between a problem with the alternator and a problem with the engine coils,” Tony directs to Peter, gesturing to the parts with a wrench he picked up from somewhere.

Peter nods studiously at the ‘lesson’ before turning his head back towards his friend, heart racing. “Morning,” he greets, hoping his smile looks natural and not like he was humping his friends dad a minute ago.

“Hey, look who’s up,” Tony says loudly, half turning to give his son an unimpressed stare. “And before noon! Did you wet the bed or something, kid?”

“Fuck off, dad,” Harley yawns, shuffling between them and staring down at the rusted engine. “What’re we working on?”

Tony seems to freeze for a split second while thinking of a suitable excuse and Peter blabs to fill in the silence.

“May. Uh, she’s having trouble with her car, it’s um, starting weird? Tony was showing me what might be the issue.”

“Cool,” Harley replies, uninterested. “What’s for breakfast?”

Peter barely reigns in the sigh of relief, sparing a shared glance with Tony over his friends bowed head.

“Lunch,” Tony corrects, dropping the wrench and wiping his hands on a discarded rag. “And you’re on sandwich duty. Thanks for offering kid, I’ll have a BLT.”

“Oh, c’mon --”

“I’ll help,” Peter says, rolling his eyes as he leads his friend out of the garage, casting a look back at Tony and heading through to the house. If Harley catches the second-too-long stare between his friend and his father, he doesn’t say anything. It feels like they dodged a bullet - again.

Truth is, Peter isn’t sure how much longer that he and Tony can keep this a secret - or even if he wants to. It’s getting harder to find excuses to come over or to give reasons why he isn’t seeing anybody. It’s becoming difficult to look at his best friend in the eye and not blurt out the truth.

Over the course of the semester Tony made the lengthy drive up to campus a few times to spend a weekend with him. He doesn’t know what Tony told his son as an excuse for the sporadic weekends away, but whatever it was seemed to circumvent any suspicion.

And it was... really nice. They got a handful of days in a town where no one knew them, where they could openly be together. They’d go on real dates, holding hands in restaurants and smiling at each other over the table, there were cheek kisses as they embraced on the sidewalk, hands in each others back pockets. Mostly though, time was spent in Peter’s shared apartment, alone in his bedroom, taking advantage of not needing to hide for once. His housemates didn’t care who he was fucking so there were no furtive glances or kisses. Peter liked both - the thrill of getting caught and the calm that being open brought - but it was nice to not have to lie.

It wasn’t all sex, either. Sprawled in bed, sated and spent, there were conversations between them that could fill libraries. Over dinner it was all witty banter and sharing stories about their lives and common interests. It was feet in laps and sharing the bathroom sink as they brushed their teeth together.

It was... intimate.

Peter has never had a relationship like this before. Girlfriends and boyfriends, yes, but they seemed so casual in comparison. At some point over the last six month this thing with Tony had become something more. He was important.

Having something that important made his guilt all the worse that he was hiding it from the people that matter to him most. He’d find himself getting worked up over it, but then Tony would call or send him a text saying he can’t wait to see him again and suddenly it’s like he’s on cloud nine. It was like he perpetually oscillated between guilt and delight.

There will be consequences down the track, Peter knows. But this is okay, for now.

“Dude, what’s wrong with your neck - did you get a rash?”

It has to be, he thinks, as he lies through his teeth.

-------

“So I got that job,” Ned says from where he lies on Peters floor, staring dazedly up at the ceiling.

“Congrats, dude,” Peter replies, although he has no idea what job Ned applied for.

To his left, Harley groans loudly as he struggles to sit up, gesturing to the copious boxes of take out on the floor. “Does that mean you’re paying for the next round?”  

They’re all in a similar state, utterly overstuffed and seconds away from slipping into a food coma should they close their eyes. The only two that seem to be holding up from their Thai feast were Betty and MJ, currently trash-talking each other over a round of Mario Kart, acting as if tryptophan is no match for them.

It’s good to be home, he thinks.

“Where’s May?” Ned asks in lieu of answering Harley, shifting to sit up and directing his attention to Peter.

“At work,” he replies distractedly, busy firing back a flirty text at Tony. “Should be home soon.”

“Did she clean out your room? It smells nicer,” Harley comments, sniffing around idly.

“Yep.”

Another text lights up his phone which he reads instantly. He nods vaguely at his friends question, not caring how eager he seems to Tony, fingers working rapid-fire to respond quickly.

“Did she say it smelled like jizz and feet in here?”

“Yeah,” Peter responds, not really listening.

“Do you smell like jizz and feet?”

“Mhmm.”

“Are you made of jizz and feet?”

“Sure.”

“Who are you texting, jizz-feet?”

“Yeah - hey!” He cries out as the phone is swiftly plucked out of his hands. His whole body goes numb. stomach dropping to his feet as he sees Harley scrolling through the texts.

A surge of panic and adrenaline has him reaching forward quick as a gunshot, arm outstretched to take the device back out of his friend's hand. Once it’s safely back in his grasp he fixes his friend a withering stare.

“Uncool, dude,” Peter says, punching his friend in the thigh.

God, how much did Harley read? Fuck. He tries to run over in his mind if his friend was recently mentioned in them or if Peter ever referred to Tony by his name. Shit.

Harley doesn’t seem to be suspicious or upset, smiling crookedly at Peter in the same way he always does and raising his hands up in surrender. Their friends titter at their antics and some of the tension bleeds out of him.

“Sorry, Pete.”

“No you’re not, nosy asshole.”

Harley shrugs. “I’m not. I’m also not sure who Missus is, but I guess that answers the question of why you’re not getting laid.”

“Wha --”

“Pete’s got a girlfriend, guys.”

“Ooh, who is she?” Betty asks, abandoning her focus on the game to join in on the conversation. The interested, earnest grin that she directs toward Peter is both disturbing and worrying.

“Is it the girl that keeps giving you half price coffee at Perry’s?” Ned joins in, knocking over a half-empty carton of rice to edge closer.

Peter issues him a judgemental glare to try to mask the mounting panic racing through his blood. Confused as to how they came to the conclusion that he’s dating a woman, he tries to piece together the dots - missus - and then it hits him. 

He had lazily saved Tony’s contact as mrs - as in Mr. S, the formality from when he’d first met the man and politely referred to him as his guardians had taught him. It had been Mr. Stark in the beginning.

He silently thanks every deity known to him that Harley didn’t come to the correct conclusion and sends a mental middle-finger to every teacher who harped on about his grammar.

“I bet it’s his physics professor and that’s why he’s keeping it a secret,” MJ speculates, abandoning her controller to look him over.

He can’t help it. The attention and subsiding anxiety has his face burning.

“First of all, gross,” he says, pointing a finger at MJ. “She’s like ninety. Second, they’re not my girlfriend, it’s just a thing.”

“A thing,” she repeats drily.

“Yes, a thing. Can you please drop it?”

He almost says they’re not real, which would be closer to the truth because there is no she involved at all - instead what comes out of his mouth is another terrible lie to cover up something that he tells himself everyday isn’t wrong, just misunderstood.

It feels a little wrong though, when he doesn’t bother to correct his friends, feels like an asshole both to Tony and to everyone else. It’s one of the biggest secrets he’s ever kept, something that makes him so happy - and that’s what’s ironic - undercover everyone is satisfied, it’s the reveal that will rock the boat. There isn’t a way this ends well in the open. 

Harley, sensing his unease is the one to call off the troops. It’s why he’s Peter’s best friend, after all.

“Alright, whatever Petey-poo. Keep it to yourself.”

“Thanks, Harls.”

The guy shrugs and the conversation quickly changes to Christmas plans. He tries to keep track of the flow of words, despite the deafening beat of his heart in his ears. The guilt of harvesting such lies crawls up on him like slime, leaving its potent residue wherever it touches.

Not for the first time he wonders if he’s in over his head.

-------

Christmas comes and goes, modest as ever in the Parker household. He gifts May with a set of acrylic paints and a few cheap canvas, and he gets socks and sweaters along with a new chess set in return.

The time spent up to new years is speckled with group hangouts, in duos or all together, taking long drives or just shooting the shit, drinking cheap alcohol and mourning their sparse bank accounts. The longer he’s back home, the more the strange, floaty dissonance from re-entering his old life disappears. He eats way too much, has many grand plans of getting ahead on next semester readings, but ends up doing none.

It’s good. 

Except...he wants. He tries not to push his hangouts with Harley to be at the Stark household in order to alleviate suspicion - but it’s been almost a week since he’s seen Tony and he just wants to be with him. The late night calls and daily texts are great, but it’s not the same as being together, especially since now they're only a short drive away.

Growing increasingly desperate, he considers renting a motel room for them or getting a hold of Mays schedule so he can plot out a timetable to have Tony over. Turns out all of that is unnecessary when Tony texts him first.

>> so…Harley is going away for the weekend

A smile lights up on his face, fingers shaking with how swiftly they type out a response.

<< oh yeah? sounds like it might get lonely having that house to yourself

>> exactly. I was thinking of inviting this cute guy around to stay but not sure if he’d say yes.

<< pretty sure he would say yes. he’d be an idiot not to

>> better not be an idiot then. see you saturday morning, beautiful?

<< c u then xo

He falls back on his bed, grinning.

The week leading up couldn’t go slower, dragging on and feeling what seems like a hundred days. It doesn’t diminish Peters excitement though, if anything the anticipation only amplifies as he the days wear on. He finds ways to busy himself with video games and starting his studies - and then finally it’s the day.

With his worn duffle slung over his shoulder he tells May with a kiss to her cheek that he’s going to be staying at the Stark’s for the weekend. She waves him off disinterestedly, telling him to behave and have fun and he doesn’t need to be told twice, he’s out the door. He plans to have a lot of fun indeed. 

Twenty minutes later he’s rolling up to the Stark household, Harley’s old truck noticeably missing from the driveway. He drops his bike around the side of the house, wiping his hands on his jeans and approaching the front door with the intention to knock. 

Except Tony swings it open before his knuckles make contact. The sight that the older man makes in makes his mouth dry, donned in his typical wife-beater and jeans. It couldn’t have been longer than a week since they’d last seen each other but the need to touch the other man is so visceral that he’s barely inside the house before Peter’s on him.

Dropping the bag at his feet, his freed up hands to clasp the nape of Tony’s neck, leaning in to connect their lips. Hands settle on his waist as Tony tilts his head, deepening the kiss.

“Hello to you too,” Tony says, pulling back wearing a smile on his face.

Peter feels his own smile forming in response. “Did you miss me?”

Tony pretends to think. “Nope. Not even remotely.”

“Good, me neither. Didn’t spare you a single thought.”

“Same, I almost forgot who you were,” Tony quips back, smile still on his face as he leans down to grab Peter’s bag, kissing his temple before leading him into the house by the hand.

“Guess that’s what happens in your old age,” Peter says as they wander to Tony’s room where his belongings are dropped by the bed.

“Brat.”

“Senior.”

Tony hauls him in by the waist until their bodies are flushed together. Peter laughs as Tony wetly kisses the hinge of his jaw, prickly facial hair tickling the sensitive spot. That’s not where he wants the older man, so he places a palm on Tony’s cheek to gently direct him back up to capture his lips in a bruising kiss. As Tony’s tongue enters through he seam of his mouth he groans, snaking a hand down to palm at Tony’s crotch through his jeans.

“Didn’t anyone teach you to respect your elders?” Tony says, voice strangled as Peter continues his ministrations.

“That went out the window when I fucked an elder,” Peter snarks, shoving Tony to sit at the edge of the bed and sinking to his knees.

“That’s fair.”

He leans forward to nuzzle at Tony’s crotch, mouthing wetly at the denim and running his hands slowly up the man's thighs. He feels Tony’s cock slowly hardening under his lips, a thrill of its own that he has any sort of effect on someone like Tony. The soft groans and twitching fingers has Peter helping him out, unbuttoning and lowering the zip of the fly, pushing the jeans down enough to free Tony’s cock.

Without hesitating, he takes hold of it loosely with his hand, jacking it and looking up at Tony dutifully when fingers under his chin direct his face upwards. 

Pupils blown, Tony presses a thumb to Peter’s bottom lip, running it lightly over the seam before Peter opens him mouth, sucking the digit in.

“Look at you,” Tony says fervently as his cock is getting worked. “Any of those college boys ever tell you how gorgeous you are?”

Peter releases the thumb in his mouth to duck his head, a vain attempt to hide the blush that crawls over his cheeks. He doesn’t trust himself to speak with the heat coiling up his gut and into his heart, so he shakes his head no and places a tender kiss on the head of Tony’s cock instead, laving at it with his tongue.

“They couldn’t appreciate a good thing,” Tony continues, gently carding a hand through Peters hair.

There is no suppressing the quiet whine that comes out his throat, even as he takes the entire head into his mouth. He missed Tony. He missed these moments, how good they make each other feel. 

He kisses down the length of Tonys cock, mouthing at the base, trimmed pubic hair brushing his cheek. Rising back up he does his best to take the whole thing in his mouth, both girthy and long, stuttering two-thirds of the way through. At first gag he pulls off, using his hand to take what he can’t while he blinks away the tears from his eyes.

Breathing deeply he tries again, focusing on the texture of skin, the salty taste of pre-cum and sweat as he bobs up and down. He’s helpless when he looks up at Tony, expecting his head to be tilted back - instead he’s met with half-lidded eyes, hitched breaths and eye contact that goes on too long to be considered casual.

“Just like that, sweetheart,” Tony encourages as Peter continues his ministrations, spurring his motivation further. As the man traces his cheekbone Peter takes special care to pay attention to the mans balls, fondling the sack with his spare hand and taking time to suckle at them, just to hear Tony’s helpless groans.

Tears spring to his eyes when he refocuses his attention to the mans cock, the head hitting the back of his throat, but the way the hand in his hair scraps his scalp in rapture has him doubling his efforts.

“Christ, baby. Didn’t know I’d been waiting for you all this time,” Tony says, voice raspy, hips undulating. 

Whether it’s the movement or the words, tears slip down Peter’s cheeks, his heart doing something weird.

It’s only a few more moments of working Tony’s cock before the man is warning him, legs locking up on either side of his shoulders as he cums, spilling into Peter’s mouth with a groan.

Tony, swiftly gathering his wits, helps Peter off his knees and onto the bed, kissing him soundly before Peter barely has a chance to swallow the load. It’s dirty, intimate, and makes his cock throb even more than any of the previous behavior. He breaks their kiss to strip himself out of his shirt, pulling himself out of his jeans to attend to his own erection.

The sweat on his palm is just enough to make the friction pleasurable, spilling his release over onto his hands after only a handful of strokes. 

Sated and breathless, he flops back onto the bed, resting on his elbows and grinning up at Tony.

“So, what do you want to do this weekend?”

“Oh, I can think of a few things.”

---

For all their fervent hurriedness things don’t really escalate much from there. Maybe it’s the early hour, or the relief at seeing each other again with the prospect of an entire weekend alone, two whole days of not having to hide or take what they can get in small moments.

The day is mostly spent curled up on the couch, exchanging slow kisses and grinding slowly against one another, undressed and unworried. It’s the most exquisite, drawn out foreplay that Peter has ever been a part of, feeling content and turned on in equal measure. Tony will kiss him behind his ear as a lead up to nothing, just doing it because he can or spoon behind Peter on the couch, half hard and doing nothing to alleviate it.

Towards the late afternoon they agree on take-out pizza for dinner and some reality TV re-runs. As Tony orders the food Peter wanders into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water, stretching his body as he stares out the kitchen window, sunset rays bathing the room in an orange glow.

He shivers a little as his bare feet make contact with the chilled tiles, glad he pulled on his jeans - and as he drinks he wonders how this is his life, how he feels too lucky for the guilt to surface anywhere near the forefront.

Strong arms wrap circle his waist as Tony sneaks up on him, embracing him from behind. Peter relaxes into his hold, shoulders dropping while gently clasping Tonys forearms.

He allows his neck to go lax, head falling back to rest on Tonys warm shoulder and for a few moments they just stand there, swaying softly and staring into the darkening outdoors.

“Food should be here soon,” Tony murmurs, rubbing his stubbled cheek against Peters.

“You get the one without pineapple?”

“No, it definitely has pineapple. Only pineapple, I know it’s your favorite.”

“You’re a jackass,” Peter says, turning around in Tony’s arms and kissing the shit-eating grin off his face.

By the time the doorbell rings thirty minutes later his lower face is red with fresh stubble burn, a row of burgeoning hickeys stippled along his neck and hair resembling a birds-nest. Tony, faring worse with cum speckled in his beard and eyelashes, had gone to wash up.

Smiling dazedly, Peter pulls his jeans back up and ambles to the front door still shirtless, picking up the twenty dollars that Tony left on the counter along the way.

When he swings the door open the smile swiftly drops off his face, heart falling faster than an anvil.

Before him Ned stands in a crisp, new uniform, awkwardly holding their pizza and giving Peter a surprised smile.

“Oh, hey Peter! Didn’t expect to see you here, I have this order for Mr. Stark?”

Shit, he thinks, mind flashing back to Ned mentioning his new job. 

All too aware of how he must look standing flushed and semi-naked, he tries to school his expression into something neutral, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

“Uhh, yeah I can take that - “

“I thought Harley was going away this weekend,” Ned says conversationally, still holding the pizza.

“Yeah, he, uh --”

“What’s the hold up, babe?” Tony asks as he approaches from behind, stopping in his tracks when he catches sight of Ned. Peter can’t help as his eyes shutter closed, feels Tony’s entire body stiffening beside him.

“Mr. Stark?” “Well, fuck,” Tony says eloquently.