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harryspet · 4 years ago

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welcome to eden | steve rogers

[Warnings] dark!steve rogers x reader, stepford wives au, wife!reader, marriage au, institutional misogyny, wealthy!steve, housewives au, stepfordization, mind control/brainwashing, forced gender roles, breeding kink, oral sex (male recieving), vaginal sex (wear a condom, kids!), bad editing :)

A/N: i just love the concept of this! i was told this was done before but I hope you all like my interpretation!

THIS STORY CONTAINS TRIGGERING CONTENT

In which the neighborhood you and your husband Steve move into isn’t like anywhere else on earth. The women are flawless and the men are way too happy.

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taglist: @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @marvelslut-musicalnerd @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @cherienymphe @peterztinglez @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @charmed-asylum @fishwaterr @marvelsswansong @nsfwsebbie

word count: 4.8k

“Now that we actually own this place it feels different. You still don’t think this is all a little much?”

Steve lifted the cardboard box you were holding from your hands, starting to make his way into the house, “It’s perfect, pumpkin.”

Eden.

You were now homeowners in the most luxurious and exclusive neighborhood in upstate New York. Howard Stark created this safe haven in the sixties and people now knew it as “heaven on earth”.

You followed him inside the fortress of a house, knowing he was smiling wide. Even in your wildest dreams you never imagined that you would live in a place like this. There were so many rooms that you’d run out of ideas for what to do with them. The massive foyer was twice as big as the home you grew up in.

Perfect marble floors, a winding staircase that reminded you of a castle, and a ginormous chandelier that was no doubt made of real diamonds. You followed Steve as he made his way into the kitchen which was, again, made for the Gods. You’d never been good at cooking but now you felt you had to start giving it a try just because of how nice it was.

It had three ovens! Who in the world needs three ovens? “I don’t think we even have enough stuff to fill the house, Steve.”

He set the box onto the counter and you were reminded of the small number of things inside compared to the amount of cabinet space, “We’ll buy more things. Lots of things! You have my card, you can order whatever you want online,” You took a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed even by the thought of decorating this place, “Hey now, c’ mere. This is supposed to be a happy day.”

You walked into his embrace, letting his strong arms wrap around you as you leaned your head against his hard chest, “I am happy,” You made sure to say though you weren’t convinced this house would ever feel normal, “And I’m grateful. I really am, Steve.”

Steve’s big promotion in security at Stark Industries was unexpected but of course, you were happy for him. You just didn’t expect he’d suddenly be making millions and, since the two of you were married now, that you’d have to make the move with him and start looking for new jobs in the city. He’d do the same for you so you felt it was your duty to suck it up and try to make things work.

You looked up at him and a soft smile was on his kind face. He leaned down to press a comforting kiss to your forehead. You tilted up to kiss him. He deepened it and, like you always liked, the passion you’d felt with him escalated the situation.

Suddenly, Steven lifted you onto the kitchen counter, his hands on your waist and started to explore beneath your shirt, “This is going to be so good for us,” He spoke huskily against your lips, “What do you say we christen the new place?”

You nodded eagerly as he began to kiss your neck, “One good thing is we’ll probably never run out of places to have sex in a house this big,” Steve chuckled at your words. For a moment, his kisses took away the anxiety you were feeling. Change is only a part of life and it was something you’d just have to get used to. Luckily, you had Steve by your side to get through it all.

“Plenty of space for kids as well,” He said and you assumed it was an attempt to turn you on. You gripped his muscular arms tightly as he

“Mhm, put a baby in me, Steve,” You played along, knowing that you were on birth control and that was unlikely to happen anytime soon. Steve was dying to be a father but you agreed before you got married that you would enjoy your marriage to each other before you considered having kids, “Please, Steve.”

You knew that would send him over the edge and only seconds later he was pulling down your bottoms and pushing himself between your legs. Before you two could get really hot and heavy, the doorbell rang and left you both frozen.

Steve helped you off the counter and you were quickly trying to pull up your yoga pants as Steve zipped up his jeans, “Edith, who’s at the door?” Steve asked which caught you off guard. The mansion was also a smart house, equipped with artificial intelligence that Mr. Stark had developed.

“James and Natasha Barnes, sir. Would you like me to let them in?” There were small monitors throughout the house including the kitchen. It lit up when the door rang with a picture of the couple standing at the front door.

“Yes, Edith. Thank you,” Steve turned back to you, not with frustration that their moment had been interrupted, but with a mischievous smile, “We’ll finish what we started later.”

You nodded, forcing a smile as he grabbed your hand. The two of you walked to the foyer which was a trip within itself due to the size of the house.

Bucky was one of Steve’s friends that you were never quite sure of. He’d known Steve for way longer than you so you never thought it was your place to ask questions about their relationship. Bucky just seemed to bring out Steve’s impulsive side and you preferred Steve when he was cool and level headed.

Nat, on the other hand, you loved her.

“Welcome to Eden, Rogers family,” Bucky announced, his voice booming through the foyer as they came into view. Already, something was off and it wasn’t because of the new environment. Bucky was clad in his suburban husband get-up, like he’d been golfing all day and Natasha looked like she was preparing to go to some old-fashioned garden party. You’d never seen her wear a sundress and never seen her smile so wide.

“Thanks, Buck,” You heard Steve say, going to hug his best friend.

As you walked up to embrace Natasha, she even felt different. As you pulled back, you searched her face for something missing, “Wow, your eyes are beautiful,” She said, still beaming. Her red hair was now blonde and reached down past her shoulders. Her skin was bright and her makeup, which she didn’t normally wear, was done to perfection.

“Thank you,” You spoke, unsure of why she was just now noticing. Besides that, you didn’t think they were anything special, “You look great … so new.” You laughed awkwardly as you took a step back. Bucky placed a hand on the small of her back and she gazed back at him lovingly.

“Honey, you act like you haven’t met Y/N a million times,” Bucky grinned towards you, trying to ease the awkwardness.

“Of course,” Natasha agreed immediately. You couldn’t help but think her tone was lacking a certain emotion, “I love spending time with Y/N. It’s so nice to have girl friends, isn’t it?”

Suddenly, appearing from basically nowhere, she pulled out a dish. It was a pound cake and she presented it to you with a smile that was now starting to make you uncomfortable, “A house warming gift,” Bucky added as you accepted it, “Natasha has been taking up baking.”

“That’s very sweet,” You said and Steve added a thanks.

“You two should stay. Let us give you a tour!” Steve clapped his hands together in excitement.

“Sure,” You agreed, “Stay for dinner. We can order pizza.”

“Order? Pizza?” Natasha was smiling but her head cocked to the side in confusion. Bucky responded by grabbing her hand and, again, she looked up at him with loving eyes.

“That sounds delicious, Y/N,” Bucky said, ignoring his wife.

You rubbed moisturizer on your face as you looked back into your bathroom mirror. The room was the size of a regular room and the closet was basically an apartment within itself. Steve came from behind you, his hands on your waist as he pressed himself into you.

“Should we continue where we left off?” He asked as you grabbed a hold of your toothbrush.

His hands were still roaming over your body as you began to brush your teeth before bed. You didn’t answer his question, your mind far away, “You don’t think Nat was acting super off today?” You asked after spitting toothpaste into the sink, “I mean, quitting her job. Suddenly wanting to be a stay at home Mom? She just got a promotion a few months ago.”

Through the mirror, Steve gave you a look that told you he was about to play devil’s advocate, “She didn’t seem that different to me. I think she realized what she actually wanted after the move.”

Your eyes narrowed at him as you rinsed off your toothbrush, “Are you being serious, Steve?”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me,” Realizing he was not getting anything tonight, he stepped back with his hands in the air, “You never know about these things. People change. Who knows, maybe our priorities will change too.”

You scoffed, turning off the water, “My only priority right now is landing the Cosmopolitan contract. I can think about priorities once I’m working again,” You walked past Steve, standing on the tip of your toes to kiss his cheek, but he still had a defeated look on his face, “Let’s go to bed, it’s been a long day.”

You barely had time to enjoy your bowl of cereal milk before there was another ring at the doorbell. Without looking up from his bowl, Steve explained that he made plans for you and Natasha to spend the day together. You knew he was working on convincing you that this entire move was a great idea. Of course, you didn’t have time to protest because the new blonde was now impatiently honking the horn of the golf cart in your driveway.

As soon as you stepped out of the house, you realized you were underdressed once again. Her attire today was a sundress full of blue flowers and beautiful pearls to go around her neck, “Good morning, sunshine!” She beamed as you climbed into the passenger seat. She looked over your regular t-shirt and jeans with a smile but you could tell she didn’t understand the way you were dressing, “It’s such a lovely day, isn’t it?”

“Yeah-”

“I know! I love gardening on days like this,” She suddenly pressed the gas and you were on your way. You were still figuring out what exactly happened to your friend since the last time she saw you but she could only seem to talk about gardening, “Bucky loves the flowers I plant. I put them in this gorgeous vase so he can look at them while he’s eating his favorite breakfast. It’s nice to have nice things to look at.”

Natasha showed you every house in the neighborhood, explaining what nuclear family lived in each house, “How come you know everyone who lives here? You never seemed like the type to ... “

“Oh, we all know each other in Eden. It’s like a family! Isn’t that sweet?”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to nod this time. You were starting to notice that every person we passed seemed … flawless. All the wives were perfectly dressed, wearing heels, and had neatly pinned hair. All the husbands looked way too happy.

You passed a golf course and soon arrived at the clubhouse where you’d be attending a book club meeting. You were a reader yourself so the idea of that gave you some hope that you wouldn’t feel totally out of place today.

That hope dissipated quickly when you stepped into the room. On a landing overlooking a pool, a group of flawless looking women sat in a circle like they were having a tea party rather than a book club meeting.

They were all happy to meet you and Natash introduced you to everyone. Instead of their names, she started with their husband’s. There was Sam’s wife Sharon, Vision’s wife Wanda, Thor’s wife Val, Clint’s wife Laura and most importantly-

“Pepper!” The group of women erupted with cheers as the matriarch entered the room. You’d recognize Tony Wife’s anywhere just from the tabloids. She was pretty much America’s favorite wife, writing self-help books, and posing on the cover of home decor magazines.

“Good morning, ladies,” She moved like a cloud, floating through the room as she commanded everyone’s attention. She took a second look at you as she made her way to her chair, “Steve’s wife Y/N, it’s lovely to meet you and, wow, you have such beautiful eyes. Welcome to the book club!”

The room erupted in giggles and clapping once again. You felt you were in some sort of simulation, like a social prank and you were waiting for some tv show host to come out and reveal that all these people were paid actors.

Pepper continued, crossing her ankles as she flattened out the skirt of her purple colored dress, “I hope you are all feeling like I am. My husband is happy, the kids are happy, my friends are happy and that. Makes. Me. Overjoyed,” Her words put them in a trance and they seemed even more robot-like than they already were, “I only want to add to that feeling so today we are discussing a highly anticipated book.”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting but you clearly weren’t on the same page as everyone else. Natasha nudged your side, giddy as ever, “I present to you ladies, Melanie Winkle’s Christmas Baking Book!” Now you were positive that you were in a simulation, “Christmas is a few months away but the season is so busy that I think we should get an early start this year. Who knows how many dance recitals, charity fundraisers, and Christmas parties we will all attend this winter? Too many to count! This book is going to change all of our lives.”

Natasha leaned into your ear, “I love Christmas, don’t you?”

“Nat?” Her eyes widened with curiosity, “Blink twice if someone is holding you hostage.”

She didn’t blink at all, “You’re silly, Y/N. You always make me laugh, don’t you?”

The next week passed in a blur. You had no idea how many brain dead women you had met or how many times Steve had told you that you were crazy for stressing over the Natasha situation. Tomorrow, you had an interview and you could finally leave the neighborhood and be around people who didn’t only care about knitting and Christmas decorations.

Before you could have your sweet escape, your limit was met.

You were attending a yoga class led by Pepper that Natasha had brought you to. It was an otherwise normal experience despite Pepper chanting about how true peace is reached when your “home is happy”.

The class was in a cat’s pose when Wanda suddenly fell down to her stomach. The class froze and you rushed to her side. Your heart racing, you placed a hand on her back to check to see what was wrong. You brushed her hair from her facing, seeing that her eyes were wide open and she was saying, “I love my husband. I love my family. I love my husband. I love my family,” She kept repeating those two phrases over and over, her gaze completely empty.

You felt Natasha’s hand on your arm, trying to guide you away.

“She’s going to be just fine, girls,” Pepper said calmly like the woman wasn’t having a nervous breakdown, “Us women are so delicate, with the yoga and the hot weather outside, she must be overheating. Natasha, will you lead the girls into the other room?”

“I think she needs medical attention,” You interjected, staring around the room to find a like mind.

“Tony can help her,” Pepper smiled.

“She needs a doctor!” The room went silent before the wives began to whisper.

“I love my husband. I love my husband. I love- I love- It’s a lovely day outside, isn’t it? Isn’t it?”

“We will get her the help she needs, do not worry,” Piper continued, folding her arms in front of her.

Natasha pulled your arm harder this time, “Y/N, let me walk you home. It’s a lovely day for a walk.”

You left the room with a feeling of complete uncertainty and as soon as Natasha was out of your site, you stormed up the spiral stairs to find Steve’s office, “Steve!” You shouted his name as you speedily walked through the long hallway. You pushed open the two, large, oak doors that led into the study and stormed inside, “Steve Rogers, I am done!”

Steve looked up from his desk and Tony turned to face you from his place in the chair in front of his desk.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Steve stood from his chair, concerned.

You stared at Tony Stark, not with awe because he was the most famous engineer in the world, but with anger, “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you, Y/N,” Tony stood next, fixing the buttons on his suit jacket, “Steve tells me you’re a photographer. Quite a talented one.”

You eyed him carefully, somehow knowing that he was the source of all that was wrong here, “I need to talk to my husband, alone, if you don’t mind.”

Steve’s eyes darkened as he looked at you, “Y/N,” He said with a warning, trying to tell you not to be rude, “This is my boss-” “It’s quite alright, I know an angry wife when I see one. I enjoyed our conversation, Mr. Rogers, and I think we’re on the same page now,” Tony approached you, a smug look on his face, “I hope to see you around, sweetheart. Oh, and again, welcome to Eden.”

As he left the room, you became even more frustrated, “You can’t talk to me like that in front of my boss, Y/N.”

“Steve,” You walked closer to his desk, “Listen to me. It’s only been a week and I am losing my mind. The people here are … are robots! They’re old-fashioned and daft, especially the wives. Nat used to be smart and cunning and now all she can talk about are gardening magazines!”

“Gardening is a very relaxing hobby-”

“Oh, please,” You crossed your arms, “That woman was on her way to being a CEO and now she’s … she’s a shell.”

Steve walked around the desk to you, grabbing your hands while they shook with anger. The look in his eyes was sincere, loving, and brought you back to a simpler time. When you were first dating, living in a tiny apartment in the city, the two of you were so in love.

“I know this move has been hard on you and I don’t want you to see this all as a mistake. I’m trying hard, I really am,” You nodded, trying to let his words soothe you. You pressed your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, “Everything here is new to me too. They do things here differently than any other place I’ve been.”

“Yeah, it’s like a cult,” You felt his chest rumble as he chuckled.

“I’m not sure about that. I do know that things are simpler here,” You felt his heartbeat quicken, “I always wanted the white picket fence, the two kids, a boy and girl, and a doting wife. She wouldn’t be bogged down by the stresses of modern life, I would take care of her … we’d be happy-”

You pushed away from him, tears pricking your eyes, “Steve, you can’t be serious,” You took a few more steps back.

Steve sighed, “I wasn’t sure before. Bucky made it sound like a crazy fantasy but now that I’ve seen Nat and … now that I’ve talked to Tony…”

You kept walking backward, your heart was now racing, “You kept saying she and her. Not me … I’m not the wife you want, am I?”

Steve stepped forward now. There was pain in his eyes like he didn’t want to hurt me but he had to keep pushing himself further, “You could be, pumpkin,” He tried to be endearing but his voice was weak.

As soon as your back touched the door, you turned and yanked it open. You took off down the hallway and you cursed the fact that you let Steve by this crazy house. You looked back to see Steve standing at the top of the stairs as you hurried down them, “Y/N, please don’t make this hard!” Steve tried to plead.

“Fuck you, Steve!” You shouted back, practically throwing yourself at the door. As you turned the lock, it didn’t budge, “Edith, open the door!”

“Only Mr. Rogers has command of my controls, Mrs. Rogers.”

Your face fell completely as tears streamed down your cheeks.

You felt him behind as you continued to pull at the doorknob, “Steve, I’m begging you …” He placed his hands on your hips, leaning down to whisper into your ear.

“I promise it won’t hurt one bit, pumpkin.”

When Steve awoke a week later, he was dreading the day. It had been a week since Tony started working on you and Steve was nervous to see the final product of the reprogramming. He’d spent the week emailing your friends, family, and associates, making excuses about your whereabouts and your new change of career.

Whatever problems he ran into, there was nothing that money couldn’t solve.

As he made his way down the stairs that morning, he smelt something unusual. Steve had never woken to the smell of bacon and he had certainly never heard you humming sweet songs before. He saw the back of you first as he walked into the kitchen, knowing you were whisking away at some mixture in a bowl.

Steve moved cautiously but you easily picked up on his movements. Part of Steve was surprised to see that you were still you. He hadn’t seen such a happy look on your face since the two of you had been engaged, “Hey, honey bear,” You greeted him and Steve could now see you were whisking pancakes, “Did you sleep well?”

Steve moved closer and you heard yourself say, “Don’t be shy, I’m making those pancakes you like from our favorite brunch spot.”

“I didn’t think … how did you …”

You guessed what he was thinking easily, “I did a bunch of research and I found the recipe online. I hope I can make them just like you like them,” You set down the bowl, walking over to peck his lips. Your lips still felt the same which comforted Steve, “Why don’t you sit down at the table? I’ll bring them to you!”

“Oh,” Steve perked up, “I can help you. Where’s the recipe?”

“No need. Let me take care of you, please,” You searched his eyes for permission, “It’s the first day of our new life together and I just want to show you how much I love you.”

Steve nodded and you pecked his lips again. You smiled, knowing how much telling him that you loved him had please him.

In the little breakfast nook, there was already a table full of food, the sunlight streaming in from the tall windows and illuminating the feast. Steve estimated that you had probably been cooking for hours at that point. A glass of orange juice as well, a cup of hot coffee was and today’s newspaper was waiting for him at the head of the table.

You were completely focused on following the recipe, having measured everything precisely and you were now making perfect circles of batter in the frying pan.

Steve watched your dress swing from side to side as you moved your hips, humming to some classical song. He had just realized that you’d chosen a blue dress, his favorite color, and you were wearing your hair just like he preferred. When you brought the tray of pancakes over to the table, you had an excited but expectant look on your face. You were probably as nervous as Steve was earlier.

As you placed them in front of Steve, you stepped back and folded your hands over your apron,

“You aren’t going to sit down?” Steve asked, grabbing his fork.

“Would you like me to sit down?” You asked, a pleasant look on your face.

“Yes, please,” Steve emphasized the seat beside him. He had a look of surprise on his face as if he hadn’t expected you to ask that. You maneuvered into the seat, neatly flattening your dress as you made yourself comfortable.

You looked back at Steve, still expectant, “You don’t want to eat?”

“Of course, if that’s what you’d like, my love,” You started to fill your plate with scrambled eggs and pieces of fruit from the bowl you prepared. Even as you spooned the food into your mouth, the taste not registering in your mouth, you watched him. You made sure to push the syrup closer to him as you waited.

When his fork finally picked up the food, your eyes were wide.

“It takes just like the pancakes at Orla’s,” Steve complimented and you felt your heart race. You touched your chest, your cheeks feeling warm, as happiness flooded you, “They’re delicious, Y/N.”

“I’m so glad,” You beamed, “Eat more, please. Would you like a muffin? Sausage? I can blend you up a fresh smoothie.”

Steve placed a hand over yours, trying to stop you from ranting, “No, everything is perfect.”

And Steve meant it.

When Steve finished his plate, you brought it to the sink despite his wishes to help you with dishes. When you came back to the table, you leaned in for what Steve thought was another peck on the lips. He was surprised when you deepened the kiss, resting your hands on the armrest as you leaned into him.

When you pulled away, you weren’t even breathless, “You look very handsome this morning, Steve,” You told him, adoration in your eyes as you memorized every feature of his strong face, “Would you let me have the honor of pleasing you?”

“I’m already feeling pleased,” Steve grinned not expecting your hand to run down his chest and then over his boxers, “.... oh.”

“Please?” You pouted, feeling him through the fabric. He grew harder against your grasp and, by his pupils, you could tell he liked it, “Just let me touch it. Please, Steve?”

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly, nodding as he was left speechless. You reached into his boxers, grabbing his member which made Steve melt back into his chair. You freed it from its confinement, leaning down to let a trail of your spit coat the sensitive tip, “Just like that, Y/N,” You up and down his shaft, twisting and rubbing your thumb over the tip.

You moved down to kneel in front of him, “I wanna taste it, Steve. I wanna taste you so bad,” You moaned, moving your mouth closer to him.

“Put my cock in your mouth, baby,” You smiled before tasting the tip with your tongue, “Good girl. Oh, you’re an angel.”

You took him all the way into his mouth, your tongue trailing down his shaft as you went deeper. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue creating a swirling motion. Despite your eyes watering, you kept perfect eye contact, trying to show him how much you were enjoying the privilege.

When your mouth tired, you used your hand to continue the work though Steve didn’t seem to mind at all. When you felt he was close, you slowed your motions, “Steve, please cum inside of me?” You begged, your hand still stroking his cock.

He nodded eagerly, knowing you hadn’t taken your birth control for an entire week. You got up from the ground, lifting your dress skirt as you climbed on top of him. Your eyes were locked on each other as you slid your panties to the side, sliding down on his cock. He was already close, you knew that, and you were desperate to feel his warmth.

“You want me to put a baby in you?” Steve grunted as you began to ride him. He grabbed a hold of the back of your neck, pulling you further into him. Your forehead pressed to his, your moans and pants began to mold together.

“Please!” You moaned.

“You want me to make you a Mommy, huh?”

“Please! Yes, please! I want you to make me a Mommy, Steve,” You smiled, the idea only filling your virtually empty mind with happiness. You'd try your best to be a wonderful mother and wife. “Oh, thank you-”

As you felt his warmth fill your insides, it was confirmation that you had pleased your husband properly. He slowly let you go so you could feel every inch that you just took.

“Jesus Christ,” He swore, panting as he leaned back in the chair, “This was the heaven on earth they were talking about.”

Steve could only imagine what came with lunch and dinner.

Suddenly the sun outside caught your attention, “It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”

hope you enjoyed!

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renaroo · 4 years ago

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Other History? More Like Other MYSTERY

as in it’s a MYSTERY how the hell this got past an editor the week before Pride Month are you fucking kidding me?

I was kind of hoping for more than like... a week of being back on tumblr before I breathed fire and ripped a comic book to shreds. But we all know why I’m here.

There are so many preemptive things to get out of the way before I rip into this thing...

John Ridley as a writer in other forms of media has been incredibly accomplished and an important additional voice to entertainment industries. I do not wish to take away from that or to minimize the impact of voices like his.

But, you know, he’s a voice in media. Not the end-all, be-all to all marginalized people worldwide who can substitute his perspective for any nonwhite straight male voice. And I don’t think that has ever been more apparent than the continued spiral down the drain that has been every issue of The Other History of the DC Universe since the first.

DC’s “new” approach to everything being canon and everything mattering is dumb and filled to the brim with ways it’s going to backfire and reveal itself to be the eye sore of publications that it’s aiming for, but I was curious to see how they would try to incorporate these characters’ long and contentious histories in the comics with the real world issues they often were billed to tackle, and try to fit it into the current pop culture landscape. That was the whole reason I had my eye on this comic to begin with.

By the second issue we were getting some stark warning signs because as much as I appreciated hearing an authentic perspective on how the Teen Titans brand carried on while neglecting its landmark Black teen heroes (Mal Duncan and Karen Beecher), there was a note of cruelty added to the issue that felt otherwise misplaced and uncharacteristic of the tone being set.

There was no reason to have a significant portion of that issue dedicated to Mal and Karen’s monologues taking some aggressive words out on Roy Harper specifically for being an addict.

Perhaps it was a quirk of writing from a flawed perspective or a show of how righteous upset and anger could be turned outward to other people suffering in a vy for your own empowerment.

I’m now pretty sure that wasn’t it at all. I’m pretty sure because it kept getting worse every issue and it’s culminated in today’s issue where the retelling of Renee Montoya’s story managed to be petty, cruel, shockingly pro-police brutality int its adulation of Jim Gordon and especially Harvey Bullock, and managed to make a well-rounded and very beloved Latina lesbian and just retrofit every stereotype she never had before to her without regard for what it did to her story or to the stories of people around her.

Honestly, lapsed faith and a poke at the damage that Catholic guilt can have on especially queer believers is kind of my jam, so it’s not that I wouldn’t be down for a story with that perspective. I could even understand exploring that with Renee. But not at the expense of her established history.

Which is a question all of its own. Here we have the skeletal structure of Renee’s life events that we have read before (in much better stories), but they are surprisingly out of order and also shockingly twisted in a way to make EVERYONE as unpleasant as possible.

And in a way that has convinced me that either John Ridley has never read comics featuring Renee, or that he was mandated to change things that had no business being changed.

According to this issue Renee hated Batman and other superheroes? Which, ah, I don’t even know where that could come from. Ever since the animated series where she got started, Renee’s whole bag has been “the acolyte of Jim Gordon, only other cop who supports Batman”. Like I don’t even know how you get around that.

But according to Ridley she’s hated them all along as an extension of her internalized homophobia and self-loathing. Great.

What follows out of that is that apparently? Renee and Batman specifically butted heads over wanting to rehabilitate Harvey Dent? As in Renee wanted to help him and BATMAN was the one flipping out and saying Harvey was a sociopath and couldn’t be helped.

Like. I’m starting to question if Ridley has read Batman comics before. I don’t know where that interpretation could possibly come from? Bruce and Harvey were friends? Bruce has always held out hope for saving Harvey from his psychosis? It’s like. THE storyline for Two-Face.

The cop stuff... I don’t really know how to talk about the cop stuff to be completely honest. If you mention the LA Riots on one page and a few pages later try to frame it so that over policing and methods of brutality weren’t a thing until 9/11... I don’t know what to say to you.

I’d say maybe I was being ungenerous here except there were two characters who got entire full page spreads about what good cops they were. And one of them was goddamn Harvey Bullock with the explicit commentary that Renee USED to be uncomfortable with his torture methods and general brutality but figured it was “okay” because he knew how “innocent people screamed different” and that he “never collared someone and it didn’t stick” because. Y’know. Police violence and falsifying evidence never go hand in hand. what the actual fuck ever right?

The timeline for Renee and Kate’s relationship is also completely changed which means that we get to add a trope I just LOVE as a lesbian personally, which is that lesbians can’t keep relationships and can’t keep from cheating on their loving partners. Especially when they are butch.

And I’m not talking about Renee cheating on Kate. Oh, no. Ridley decided Kate was the Other Woman during Renee’s relationship with Daria.

And just.. the cruel commentary that Renee had about both Kate and Daria throughout. It made my skin crawl. The way she talked about other women in general made my skin crawl. “Uncomplicated women” “Broken souls” “Can’t be with someone better than yourself”

So I actually planned to go into a full rage post about just the queer content because 1. my lane and 2. it honestly affected me so bad I was shaking and tearing up in anger a bit. Every single friend I know who loves Kate and Renee, see themselves in Kate and Renee, have been the same kind of mess I am after this.

The NASTINESS of the internal monologue. I don’t know how to explain it more than this is how poorly men think of flf and to have one use a character so meaningful to the community to spout this hatefulness has revolted me in a way I... haven’t had happen to me for a while.

I was going to talk about the weirdness of just... randomly deciding to retcon Renee’s parents into being undocumented when that’s never been a thing before and just doing NOTHING with it the whole while after. Or how it’s pretty questionable how Renee suddenly became so adherently Catholic when it’s never been portrayed like that before (that’s Hel B’s bag, JPV if you squint) but it’s entwined with any of her commentary on her ethnicity p sus too but I don’t have the nuance for that discussion right now.

Rena Rants are back and what a fucking JOKE this comic was.

I didn’t pay for it and neither should you.

P.S. bringing back Tim Fox and calling him “Jace” is dumb as fuck too

#VICTOR #CHARLIE #Rants of Unusual Size #Rena Rambles #Wednesday Spoilers #The Other History of the DC Universe (2019)#Renee Montoya #the Question #Kate Kane #Batwoman #character assassination #for who?#take a pick #I didn't even touch on her calling Vic instead of #In the name of the moon fuck you my dude

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marvelship-oneshots · 4 years ago

Text

FIELD TRIP (SUPERFAMILY)

AU where Peter is Tony and Steve's kid and has a field trip at the Stark Industries headquarters [1k words]

Normally, every student would be extremely excited about a field trip. But not Peter, not this time at least. He would have wanted to sit this one out and stay at home. But there was no running away this time. The field trip was at the Stark Industries Headquarters, which coincidentally was located at the Avengers Tower, which was no less than his house. So, going on the field trip or staying at home would both have resulted in uncomfortable encounters with Flash. He tried to get his way out of the city, and he did almost convince Tony, but Mr. Righteousness, as Tony called Steve, insisted that he went on the damn field trip. Peter even ended up hoping that a Avengers-level threat would happen, just so he could get out of there. But no threat happened.

"Why are you so nervous, Penis Parker? If you really know Tony Stark you don't have anything to be worried about, no?" Yes, in theory, he didn't have anything to be nervous for, but he still felt as if he was going to faint as soon as they walked into the Tower. MJ took Peter's hand, squeezing it a bit to reassure him. Pepper finally arrived in her beautiful white pencil skirt with her staggeringly high heels. She greeted the group with a smile, looking for Peter, who was hiding in the back. When she saw him, she directed the group to the first room. It was the gym where Clint and Bucky were training with the new equipment Peter and Tony had designed and built together. Thankfully, Pepper failed to mention it. When Bucky noticed Peter, he smiled at him and walked up to him. "Hey Pete" "Hi Uncle Bucky" said Peter, reciprocating the hug. "You still up for today?" "Yup- Peter nodded- but I need a present for Pops and I don't know what to get him" Bucky scoffed. "I got you" he said, patting Peter's shoulder. "Thanks Uncle Buck" Peter said, as Bucky walked out. He could feel Flash's eyes on him, but he tried to ignore him and walked after Pepper to the next room.

"...And here there is Dr. Banner, working on some kind of Gamma Radiation thing. What is it again Peter, sweetie?" "A safer way to use radiation therapy for cancer patients" Peter whispered. Pepper smiled at him. "Ah yes, the radiation therapy project. It's a collaboration between Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark, if it works, it's going to revolution ate the modern medicine" Peter smiled, proud of his Dad and Uncle. "But we cannot go in, it's dangerous" Everybody awed, looking at Bruce working. Bruce waved at the students and winked when he saw Peter. Next stop was the cafeteria for a break. Peter was trying to put in function the smart coffee maker he had built with Tony to make coffee for Ned when Steve walked in. He was wearing a Stark Industries sweatshirt and grey sweatpants, he really looked like he had just got out of bed. Knowing him and Tony, he was. "Peter?" he called, making his way to the coffee machine, walking through a bunch of drooling teenagers. Peter rolled his eyes after hearing his classmates comments about his Pops. "Hey kid, you forgot your lunch this morning" Peter blushed when Steve handed him the brown paper bag with a sandwich in it and he looked at his Pops as if he was saying 'you really had to?'. Steve chuckled, knowing what was passing through his son's head. "You dad wants me to remind you that we have a dinner reservation tonight at 7, so whatever you're up to with Buck, cut it short" Peter rolled his eyes. "Yes Pops, I know" Steve kissed Peter's forehead, ruffling his long locks, before walking out of the room.

"This is Mr.Stark's lab" Pepper opened the door and showed the students in. Peter was,once again, in the back. He knew the place way too well. He could have said that he spent more hours in the lab with Tony then in his bedroom and he wouldn't have lied. "Peter dear, want to do the honours?" As Pepper asked him the question, all of the students' eyes were on Peter. God knows how much Peter hated the attention. "Yes Penis, show us the lab" Flash said laughing. If sters could kill people, Flash would be dead, because Pepper had just given himself a bad look. Then, much more softly, she looked back at Peter. "Out Peter here, has spend more time in the lab then anybody else, except maybe-" "Except for me" Tony was standing by the door and walked in as soon as the students turned towards the voice. Tony walked up to Peter, who didn't turn, trying to stay hidden, and put both of his hands on Peter's shoulder, squeezing them a bit, not letting him escape. "What do you say we show them some stuff we have been working o huh Petey?" "Dad..." Peter whispered. "Petey" Flash laughed at Tony's nickname for his son, but this time both Tony and Pepper glared at him. Tony conducted Peter in the middle of the lab, browsing through some digital blueprint. "You need me to blast the kid?" Tony whisper asked. "Dad...please" Tony scoffed. "Huh, here it is" Tony opened the holographic blueprint and everybody opened their mouths in awe. "This is a prototype of a new astronomic telescope that should allow us to watch further than the human eye has gone. And it all came from this beautiful mind here" Tony said putting a hand on Peter's head. Tony spent his morning showing the students his projects and answering their questions, very carefully avoiding Flesh's. When their time was over, everybody walked out, leaving Peter and Tony behind. "So that's Flash huh?" Peter nodded. "Do you need me to blast him? I guess that Steve could beat him up" "Dad..." Peter sighed, exasperated. "What? I'm just saying. Oh wait, I can call Natasha" "Dad no, everyone but Aunt Tasha" Tony laughed, shaking his head. "Alright kid, go with your Uncle Bucky" Tony said, after smacking a kiss on Peter's forehead and Peter bolted out of the room. "Love you" Tony screamed, to which Peter replied before he disappeared upstairs.

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lovelyirony · 4 years ago

Note

that rhodeytony piece with the bots........... iconic. do you think we could have more of that sweet sweet mit era?? I just think they’re neat

Look. Rhodey hadn’t meant to build another robot. But Tony was at some business conference for the weekend, and Dum-E was just pitifully sad. If Tony had been there, he would’ve convinced Rhodey that Dum-E is a drama queen and acts like the end of the world is happening at any minor inconvenience.

But why not give Dum-E a little sibling? This is how U comes to be, and he’s quite the gentleman, far more gentle than his big brother.

Rhodey enjoys teaching him how to pick up socks and shoes, and how to put the coffee mugs on the counter gently, something that Dum-E is not good at yet, but they’re trying their best. (He has a stuffed coffee mug that they got from the pet store that he’s flung at every single surface so far.)

Tony comes back from his business conference (which ugh) looking for cuddles, dinner, and maybe a movie date night if they can get Dum-E to stop trying to escape the apartment.

What he isn’t expecting is for his boyfriend to be mediating a fight between two robots.

Two.

He stares at his boyfriend for a moment.

“Rhodey, darling, is Dum-E having a...play-date?”

Rhodey freezes.

“Oh!” He says, grinning. “I, um...made him a sibling?”

“And they’re...fighting?”

“Well, for now. Dum-E’s mad because he didn’t get to put actual coffee mugs on the counter, and U is mad because Dum-E stole the couch blanket. I think U is really into decoration!”

“Yeah, that explains everything,” Tony says faintly, sitting. “So...U? Like, the letter?”

“Yeah, you like it?”

“And you thought that it made a good name for what?”

“Well, it was more of a placeholder, honestly. But then he liked it!”

U looks over at Tony curiously.

“U, this is Tony. Your other dad. We used part of his code to make you!”

The arm bumps softly against Tony’s, which is an improvement from Dum-E, who tends to go full-force. (Although they’ve worked on it.)

“So...” Tony says. “You think with U, we won’t need to look for a babysitter for date night?”

“No, we will. We definitely will. Dum-E hasn’t adjusted to a sibling yet.”

“Poor baby,” Tony coos, patting Dum-E on the claw. “You thought you were going to be the only attention-seeker for a while, didn’t you?”

He glowers, wheeling back and acting very high-and-mighty for a robot who just threw the equivalent of a tantrum.

Rhodey looks at Tony, kissing him on the forehead as he leans over to lay on his legs.

“How was the business conference, honey?”

“Utter shit. I didn’t need to go, I was an ego boost for Obie to tote around.”

“Told you that you shouldn’t have gone.”

“If I said ‘no’ one more time, we would’ve had to have a phone call about my ‘five year plan’ and ‘legacy’ bullshit. You know that that gives me a migraine. Besides, he gave me a gift certificate to a fancy restaurant, so that means we get to have a good meal one of these weekends when you visit.”

“Who said I would visit with you?”

“Because Jarvis adores you and I think Ana wants to adopt you and force you to stay.”

“You make a compelling argument,” Rhodey says, pretending to think about it. “I’ll...consider it.”

Tony snorts.

“And they say I’m the asshole here.”

Two years later, Dum-E and U demand that they get a sibling. The dads are back home together (for now) and Jarvis has grown tired of reason.

“They want a sibling, Sir.”

“What, each other isn’t enough?”

“They have requested many movie nights where there are siblings or groups of friends, and I think they want to, in a sense, replicate the scenarios.”

“They’ve already done all of it? Wasn’t it them who got onto a plane for DC just because they wanted to see Pops?”

“Yes, yes it was.”

“You know, J, I still think that you helped them with that one.”

“I most certainly did not.”

(Jarvis totally did. He gets bored, you know? Besides, Colonel Rhodes hadn’t been home for three months, which should have counted for cruel and unusual punishment.)

“Well, regardless of your guilt in certain situations, we’ll have a family discussion about maybe a new sibling.”

Rhodey gets a text as he’s grocery shopping.

hey, need to talk about family stuff. can you also pick up some more colby jack cheese?

sure. what’s it about?

your son has decided he wants a sibling. he convinced dum-e....

got it.

Rhodey laughs to himself as he turns his cart around, going towards the dairy section. Of course U would decide something like that, it makes sense.

Tony is looking at Rhodey with a disappointed look on his face.

“This is all your fault.”

“How is this my fault?”

“You dote on the boys too much.”

“Oh, I do that? Who makes them Halloween costumes every year and hosts a party with all of the other appliances we’ve made over the years?”

“Oh like you hate those, Mr. ‘Here’s-the-hand-made-Halloween-playlist’.”

“True,” Rhodey says, setting down the bags. “Help me put away all of this stuff, half of it is yours anyway.”

“We have a shared fridge, Honeybear.”

“Tell that to your pomegranates taking up about two shelves!”

“Only for now, and half of those are Pepper’s! They’re not all mine.”

“Do you think she would want a say in the robot? After all, she does have to deal with U and Dum-E worshiping the ground she walks on.”

“And she is the reason that Dum-E usually succeeds in his smoothie-making,” Tony admits. “Yeah, sure, invite her over.”

Whenever Pepper is asked what it’s like having to be a personal assistant to Tony Stark, she always wants to answer with something like “oh, it’s really fulfilling to help a company reach its goal and learn so much from my boss to apply to what comes next” or even “oh, it’s nice.”

She got invited to dinner, and is now in a conversation about whether or not Dum-E and U, her boss’s children, should get a sibling.

And the fact that her boss’s children are robots, have two dads, and think that Pepper is the best thing since life itself.

“Why do they need a sibling?” Pepper asks, chewing on her pasta.

“Because they’re bored, and we think that maybe we’ll stop getting calls from the fire stations around town that they’re trying to wreak havoc again,” Rhodey says. “They’ll want to teach the new sibling how life works around the house, and we can start on security measures.”

“Can’t you just put a genetic lock on the door or something?” Pepper asks.

“They’re surpassed it,” Tony says grumpily.

“How?”

“Don’t look at me!” Tony defends. “Look at Jim-dear, who is obsessed with true crime documentaries! They picked up how to gain evidence and use it for proof from him and Forensic Files!”

Pepper puts her head in her hands.

“Just once, I wish that we had a dinner to discuss a business proposal or something normal instead of whether or not your two boys need a sibling.”

“Well, we are thinking about a daughter,” James admits. “And we wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Why, because I’m the only female either of you know?!”

“No,” Tony says quickly. “We know plenty of women!”

“Name seven.”

“Plead the fifth,” Rhodey jokes. “But you spend time here, and so we wanted to know what you’d want to see in a robot.”

“How the hell should I know?”

“You work for the best tech mogul in two hundred years,” Tony says.

“Tones, you’re entirely too cocky.”

“Oh shut up babe,” Tony says, no real heat to the sentiment. “Besides, I’ve treated you well, haven’t I?”

“Other than embarrassing me in front of every single government official every time you interact, sure.”

“You love it, they hate it, win-win,” Tony says, stirring around his mocktail. “But Pepper, seriously. What do you think about a third robot?”

“Well, can’t get anymore chaotic,” Pepper sighs. “And I think having a girl around would be...nice. Not as chaotic.”

“You saying girls don’t bring as much chaos?”

“No,” Pepper says. “I’m just saying that we know when to bring it.”

Butterfingers is born, and she is the most perfect definition of a “daddy’s girl” any robot has ever been. She wheels around with grace, although she can’t stop bumping into things and dropping things, being worse than Dum-E. (Which he actually adores.)

She follows Pepper along in awe, and can be seen usually in her office.

Curiously enough, the only time she doesn’t live up to her name is in Pepper’s office, where she handles things with grace and Pepper gives her little tasks to do, like delivering cups of pens to employees or papers.

Rhodey gets her (and the brothers) little souvenirs from his time away, and Tony has an absolute ball of a time making them all costumes and taking a million little pictures that are hung up everywhere in the building.

But perhaps the crowning achievement are the Christmas photos.

Usually, Stark Industries will take pictures of their employees, put a newsletter out, and wish everyone a happy holiday and all that.

But then the employees have an entirely different idea.

It comes from one of Pepper’s assistants after she’s made CEO, Julia.

“Why not have the bots be the Christmas picture?” she muses, restacking some of the papers Miss Potts had to sign. “They’re always around the office, and they’re the unofficial mascots of the business. I think it’d be fun to see their Christmas hijinks!”

Pepper smiles.

“Julia, remind me to add a little extra to the Christmas bonus.”

Rhodey finds the idea to be the best idea anyone has come up with in years. (Although it just gives him an excuse to take more pictures of the bots during the festivities.)

Dum-E is only too happy to finally be allowed within two feet of tinsel. (Unfortunate incident in 1998.) U is very excited to show off his understanding of symmetry and how to pick out the perfect tree, and Butterfingers just wants Pepper to tie ribbons around her wheels so that she looks “extra-pretty.”

Stark Industries’ holiday card involves Dum-E and U at either side of the tree, with U gently readjusting one of the many ornaments they’ve had the bots make over the years, and Dum-E is trying to pull off a ribbon from the top of the tree. Butterfingers is at the center, guarding any attempt to unwrap presents, and presenting her bow-filled-wheels.

Pepper has the picture framed in her office.

#rhodeytony #ironhusbands #rhodey #tony stark #pepper potts #u #butterfingers #dum-e #iron fam #anyways yes U is very good at decoration #dum-e is not but that's okay bc he's enthusiastic #pepper is done with her boss. so done. but she loves them all #rhodey loves his husband so much and so dearly #lovelyirony writes

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 5 years ago

Text

What We Did, pt. 26

Summary: After finding out you were pregnant, Bucky agrees to help you leave the hero life. The two of you go to Seattle, and hamper down for six months until you start dreaming of a certain someone. Convinced the dreams are a sign, you and Bucky go back to New York. Will everyone be happy to see the pair of you? What questions will they have? And will the lie Bucky and you made up finally resurface?

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my main bitch @childishhoebinoo again. THIS IS A BIT SHORT, SORRY!

Warnings: //cheating//pregnancy//ADULT STUFF//

masterlist

Chapter Twenty-Six: Cutthroat

The driveway was empty; you feel cold and guilty and everything in between. You had seen it in Clint’s eye – your words had gotten to him and you were afraid you had made things even worse. There was nothing left to do but go inside and wait for Bucky to get home. You walked inside and felt an odd urge to pick up the phone and call Natasha. But it seems like forever since the last time you had seen her and told her not to come around – another regretful notch for your bed post.

You walked into the living room and sat down, fidgeting with the remote and pretending everything was okay until your cell rang. The caller ID flashed Tony’s name, grateful for the distraction, you picked it up and greeted the man with a false uplifting tone. Of course, he saw right through that and called you out on it.

“Did you install cameras in my house?”

“No.” He laughed but it faded as soon as it arrived. You asked what was going on and he cleared his throat. “I got some bad news, kid. Clint’s lawyers called mine.”

“He was literally just here….”

“He showed up announced.” Tony repeated but it wasn’t directed to you – someone else was with him. “I’m going to put Pepper on the call, okay?”

Agreeing, you greeted her when she said hello. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” you answered. “I’m due in less than 10 days, so all this drama is doing wonders for my stress level.”

Pepper sighed. “That’s exactly what we don’t want to happen, so the lawyers and I came up with a solution, but I have to tell you – it’s a difficult one.”

What could be more difficult than being confronted by the wife of your unborn child’s father? Or losing your best friend because of your adultery? Or having a screaming match with Clint in front of the whole neighborhood? Knowing you could not do anything to change any of it and all at once, not wanting to change it.

“I’m a big girl,” you finally said, feeling prepared for whatever the options the lawyers and Pepper had come up with. “I’ll do anything to have some quiet for as long as I can get it.”

“Shit,” Tony groaned. “Rhodey is hounding my cell; I’ll leave you two to it.”

He hung up his end and Pepper exhaled. “He won’t tell you this but this whole situation has gotten to him. He loves you and wants the best, and he will fight on your side but….”

“…. this situation has already divided the team.”

She paused before saying yes but quickly adding that it was not your concern. “That can all be dealt with eventually, right now we want to make sure you’ll have some peace when the baby arrives.”

Willing away tears, you asked what needed to be done and she explained it all; you were going to contest the paternity of the baby. Maybe you slept with someone else around the same time as the affair with Clint, you will tell the court you are not sure and that you would like a paternity test to make sure. Since your due date is around the corner, the lawyers will petition for a DNA a week after the baby is born.

“It will allow the lawyers time to draft up a solid custody agreement and build a case if Clint wants to take things to court.”

“A custody fight?” The words came out of your mouth in a jumbled whisper and Pepper assured you that everything would be fine, especially in your case.

“Courts tend to favor the mother and your situation is ideal.” You asked what she meant by that and she explained that Bucky and you had created a stable home for your child. “Clint is still an Avenger, you two hung up the capes months ago to raise the baby. He will not be granted full custody if he can’t stay home for more than a few weeks at a time.”

It was true; Clint had more reason than the rest of the team to retire and he had not. He kept his family secret for a long time and even after everyone found out, he still was out avenging with the rest of us. You felt like you were betraying him, but you need for security was hungrier than the need to do the right thing. A maternal feeling had rushed over you and you would do anything to make sure your son would be in your arms and home with you. Clint had his family; you were fighting for yours. Speaking of, you resisted mentioning that Bucky and you had eloped. With everything that was going on, you weren’t sure adding that information right now would be best. It wasn’t like you were hiding it but the thought of hurting Pepper and Tony, especially Steve, with the news was too much for you. You knew those three specifically would have wanted to come – even Natasha, but you couldn’t think of that or her right now.

“I’ll do it,” you breathed out, desperate to make it all go away. “I’ll do it, do I need to go out there to sign papers?”

“Not necessary; I’ll fly out an assistant with all the paperwork tomorrow. They will come by and everything will be done in minutes. The lawyers will submit it to the courts and have it expedited – courtesy of one Tony Stark.”

“It pays to know the guy, doesn’t it?”

Pepper laughed, it was sharp but light and it lifted the tension from the air. “Try being married to him.”

“I’ll pray for you,” you joked.

“Please,” she plead. “Oh, also, you can’t have connected with Clint. We are adding a no contact order, he cannot be showing up at the house like he did today. You are nine months pregnant; it is dangerous to have you so stressed out. The lawyers can use that against him – if he truly is the father, why would he risk putting you into early labor like that? I can have them document that if you want?”

It was terrifying to hear Pepper so direct and cutthroat, but you suppose that was why she was the CEO of Stark Industries and not Tony. You were glad to have her on your team and you were starting to think the two Starks were in first place for god parenthood.

“No, don’t, it’s fine.” It felt like the least you could do, considering Clint was going to be taking another blow to the groin. “Thank you, Pepper, sincerely.”

“Anything for you, kid.”

“Tony tell you to say that?”

She groaned. “He did.”

Sharing a laugh, the two of you said goodbye and hung up. Tossing the cell down onto the sofa cushion, you leaned back and rubbed a hand over your stomach. It was going to be tough to ignore Clint’s calls, which most likely would be coming soon. It was a bit nerve wrecking knowing he was still in the city unbeknownst to what had just occurred but then you glanced down at the ring on your finger and thought of Bucky. With that, it was all gone; the guilt and worry, because in the end, even if everything went up in flames, you’d still have him.

....

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@marvhellove @kjs-s @aredlily @sami-raye @lucifersnipnips @feelmyroarrrr @darkshadow3492 @lianasparklezstuff @ajduurikscjsja @morgan-atr @theflowerswillbloom @coffee-stained-tongue @lowkeyxloki @cannonindeez @astro-sim-dog @fireboltrose7559 @iridescent-gxmora

@slither-in-a-half @fangirlftshipper @lost-in-the-stories @maheelumos123 @nurnwasburned-nowimhomeless @shamelessbookaddict @stevieboyharrington @princess76179 @the-criminal-soldier @tylerrose931617 @danicalifonia25 @an-enchantingmuse @sheridans-dynamos @problematic-artist @fatefellshortthistime @ilovetvshowsblog @piensa-bonito @sourwolf-sterek32 @crazyinspiration @malfoysqueen14 @drakelover78 @lucifersnipnips

@theflowerswillbloom @geeksareunique @crist1216 @gruffle1

#what we did #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #marvel #marvel imagine #pepper potts #tony stark #bucky barns imagine #ivonnes imagine

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passionate-reply · 4 years ago

Video

youtube

This week, on Great Albums, we finally get around to discussing an industrial album--and we’ve started with one of the best there is, from the OGs themselves: Throbbing Gristle! (No, it isn’t jazz funk, I promise.) As always, full transcript under the break.

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Today, I’ll be talking about one of the most important albums in the history of industrial music, and certainly one of the most...infamous. If you’ve ever noticed this album hanging on my wall in my other videos, you may well have wondered how an album that looks like this fits in with the rest of the stuff that’s up there. This record is the pioneering industrial group Throbbing Gristle’s classic 20 Jazz Funk Greats, and it’s essentially a bait and switch. It looks like a dorky, “family band” record from the bargain bin, but when you put it on, it sounds like this:

Music: “What a Day”

...well, not really. I’ve fibbed a bit here, much like Throbbing Gristle lied to you with this album cover. “What a Day,” one of the most sonically abrasive tracks on this album, is actually the second to last track! They take a little time to warm you up to the heavier stuff, actually. The first two tracks, the title track and “Beachy Head,” are still not really “jazz funk” by anybody’s standards, but they ARE decidedly softer than some of the other stuff you’ll encounter here.

Music: “20 Jazz Funk Greats”

Things arguably don’t start really heating up until we reach the third track on the album: “Still Walking,” which introduces us to ear-splitting distortion, rapid, disorienting percussion, and buried, albeit deeply ominous vocals, sounding like the first “typical” Throbbing Gristle track. It’s dense and almost comically busy, almost exhausting to listen to--and yet we have only just begun.

Music: “Still Walking”

So, where do we go from here? 20 Jazz Funk Greats wouldn’t be the legendary album that it is, if it was a one-note knock-knock joke, a jack in the box that emerges fully within the first few minutes of the album. What I think it really excels at is its ability to keep us on our toes throughout its entire runtime--it goes back and forth between showing a slightly friendlier face, and peeling back the skin of that face to show us the gory skull underneath. The whole thing vibrates along that contrast. Side two of the album, for instance, opens with one of Throbbing Gristle’s best-known tracks: “Hot on the Heels of Love.”

Music: “Hot on the Heels of Love”

Positioned squarely in the middle of the track listing, and at the crucial point of opening the second side, “Hot on the Heels of Love” certainly seems crucial to the album. It reads as a sort of dark parody of Giorgio Moroder’s famous “I Feel Love,” in which the voice of Donna Summer stands nakedly alone in a sea of pulsating synthesisers. It’s a pretty quick rebuttal, too, given that “I Feel Love” was released just the year before! Despite those sultry, breathy vocals, courtesy of Cosey Fanni Tutti, there’s no mistaking this one for a disco hit--not with its harsh hi-hats and gritty, highly textural synth scrapes. “Hot on the Heels of Love” features minimal lyrics--and they’re almost insultingly vapid--but 20 Jazz Funk Greats also features two prominent tracks that are much heavier in lyrical content, which I like to think as complementary to one another: “Convincing People” and “Persuasion,” which appear on the first and second side of the LP, respectively.

Music: “Convincing People”

Taken alone, “Convincing People” is weird, but it’s so vague and disorganised that it’s hard to come to a firm conclusion about what’s going on the first time you hear it. Unlike “Still Walking,” the fairly minimal instrumental accompaniment makes it easy enough to make out what the words are, without the sleeve handy. But it’s also so repetitive that it’s bound to infect you with semantic satiation, and fog up your brain’s ability to pay attention to those lyrics. The clearest statement “Convincing People” seems to be making is that you’ll never convince people when you come across as someone who’s trying to be convincing...well, alright, I suppose. But what really gives this song a darker significance is its counterpart on the flip, “Persuasion.”

Music: “Persuasion”

Abrasive numbers like “What a Day” and “Still Walking” are physically uncomfortable to listen to, but “Persuasion,” like the earlier Throbbing Gristle number “Slug Bait,” unnerves you with its lyrics instead. It takes up the mantle of a narrator who’s clearly a predatory, sexually violent character, and once again, a fairly simple instrumental makes us confront this vile subject matter head-on, as though we are alone in the room with this creep. “Persuasion” and “Convincing People” are actually extremely similar, but the biggest difference between them is that “Persuasion” is the escalation of their shared basic idea, with its much more explicit lyrics, and use of dissonant, unpredictable human screaming sounds. It’s actually a great metaphor for understanding how this album works--it gradually pushes our boundaries as we listen, worming its way into our consciousness like some masterful manipulator. And it dovetails with how Throbbing Gristle frontman Genesis P-Orridge would later style herself as a charismatic cult leader, with varying shades of irony, in later projects related to “Thee Temple ov Psychic Youth.” As we’ve recently been told, you don’t convince people by coming across as someone trying to be convincing. Or do you?

As I alluded to in the beginning, the name and cover design of 20 Jazz Funk Greats are a sort of musical booby trap, to hopefully ensnare innocent victims. It’s not jazz or funk, it doesn’t have twenty tracks, and its seemingly quaint cover photo, featuring the band in sunny surroundings, actually has a dark secret: the spot it was taken at, Beachy Head, is the most popular suicide destination in Europe, and one of the most popular worldwide. It’s Britain’s highest sea cliff, a stark, sheer wall of chalk that looms over the English Channel, and just a few feet away from where Throbbing Gristle are standing, people regularly throw themselves off of it. It’s a place where delicate natural beauty meets the profound human sickness sown by our twisted, exploitative industrial world. It’s just one more insidious detail, that heightens the cruel spirit of the album’s visual identity. It’s worth remembering that Throbbing Gristle were, first and foremost, provocateurs. I think that may be a better way to think about them overall, compared to thinking of them as “musicians.”

In my day, I’ve often seen 20 Jazz Funk Greats recommended as a good introduction to Throbbing Gristle, and to industrial music as a genre, more broadly. Industrial is one of the very few genres of music that was given its common name by an artist and not an outside critic--and we have Throbbing Gristle to thank for coining it, so they’re inarguably industrial royalty. Their catalogue remains indispensable to understanding what industrial is about--like so many acts we consider seminal or foundational, the seeds contained here inform a great deal of subsequent music. The problem, though, is where to begin, since they were arguably more of a jam band than a studio act, with legendary live performances that probably influenced other artists much more than anything they ever pressed on wax. Their discography is hairy, peppered with live recordings, non-album A-sides, and releases whose official vs. bootleg status is unclear. If you’re looking for a traditional album listening experience--as many music enthusiasts often are--it’s hard to do better than 20 Jazz Funk Greats.

At the same time, though, I think there’s something to be said for respecting the fact that Throbbing Gristle were never trying to offer anyone a traditional listening experience. Just the opposite! 20 Jazz Funk Greats is a Great Album, for sure, and it’s also a bit more of a softball than some of their other work, which arguably makes it a bit more accessible. But is it really all that fair to try and wring an “accessible” experience from a band like Throbbing Gristle, when it isn’t particularly representative of their work? Or is it better to meet them head on and try to tackle them on what appear to have been their own terms? If you’re new to them, but want to understand Throbbing Gristle and feel literate in their work, I think I might recommend their 1981 “greatest hits” compilation, Entertainment Through Pain, better than I would any of their proper albums--particularly if you’re like me, and prefer their more aggressive cuts to the ambient ones.

Music: “Adrenalin”

I think my favourite track is “Walkabout,” even though I would argue it’s one of the least “industrial” sounding tracks here. It isn’t heavy, rhythmic, or sludge-textured, but instead serves as a sort of “breather” between ��Persuasion” and “What a Day,” a brief, floating melody that drifts by like a cirrus cloud. It’s both playful as well as devious, wedging itself between some of the hardest-hitting stuff, looking like it might be a reprieve, but ultimately leading right back into harsh musical territory--like an abuser love bombing you between some of their worst behaviour. Perhaps “Walkabout” is something like a masochist’s after-care, a moment of healing and cooldown after the excesses of simulated abuse. Or perhaps it’s the stillness and disquiet peace of the grave, for those who meet their end at the hands of “Persuasion”’s narrator? Ambiguity and possible irony are an integral part of Throbbing Gristle’s particular danse macabre...so I’ll leave the rest of the interpreting up to you. Thanks for watching!

Music: “Walkabout”

#music #album review #album reviews #great albums #music criticism #throbbing gristle #industrial #industrial music #Genesis P-Orridge #cosey fanni tutti #20 jazz funk greats

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ephemeralstark · 4 years ago

Text

The Targets We Paint

Summary: “Do you really think walking into Stark Industries with a handcuffed kid is a good idea?” Peter asked, “because the second you get in there, someone will alert the emergency services, you won’t get far.”

“You’re wrong,” and even though Peter knew he wasn’t, the complete lack of concern in the man’s voice was causing him mild anxiety. “

Well, we’ll see, won’t we?” the man asked, not remaining silent for long, “we’ll see who’s worrying about calling the cops when I’m threatening to blow your brains all over their pristine white floors.”

Peter swallowed, hard, “shows how prepared you are,” he said with false bravado, “the floors in the main atrium are black marble.”

Peter knew being Spider-Man put a target on him, but it was a risk he was willing to take for the safety of the citizens of Queens. He just never considered how dangerous it could be to be Peter Parker.

AN: whumptober day 5&6: prompts - rescue & no more. TW for bombs, guns, violence, proceed with caution.

Part 3 of 3

“-eter, come on Peter, Kid, wake up already.”

Peter groaned and tried to roll over but found that he was unable to move, that was annoying, he wasn't comfortable at all - in fact, the position he was in was kinda hurting him and he was pretty sure he was lying on his arm and it was going dead beneath his weight.

“Underoos?” Mr. Stark said his nickname in a singsong voice, and why was Mr. Stark waking him up? Had he fallen asleep in the Workshop again? That would explain why he was so uncomfortable.

“G’way,” Peter mumbled, trying once more to roll over and finding himself unsuccessful yet again.

“He lives!” Mr. Stark said with false cheer, but Peter could hear an underlying tension in his voice, had he actually been concerned that Peter wasn't alive? How long had he been trying to wake him up for?

“Mis’er Star’?” Peter asked before frowning and running his tongue along his teeth, there was a strange metallic taste in his mouth, almost like… “Mis’er Star’ why’s blood in m’ mouth?”

“Peter? Kiddo, don't you remember what happened?” Mr. Stark asked him.

Peter frowned, why was Mr. Stark waking him up and trying to get him to remember things? It was unfair, he was so tired and he’d been having such a good sleep. With an irritated sigh, Peter forced his eyes open, only to be forced to rapidly blink and dust and grit made their way into them and caused a stinging sensation.

“Pete,” Mr. Stark prompted.

“I- uh,” Peter frowned and tried to focus through the throbbing in his head, “there w’s a bomb.”

“That’s right,” Mr. Stark said gently, more gently than Peter had ever heard which instantly made him frown, what was going on? Was he dying? Is that why Mr. Stark was treating him like glass about to break?

Peter opened his mouth to ask that question only to be cut off by a yawn, he was so tired, but still so ridiculously uncomfortable.

“Now, Kiddo,” Mr. Stark said, grabbing his attention once more, “I can see you, can you make your way over here?”

“No,” Peter mumbled without elaborating.

“No? Why not?”

“M’ legs are tr’pped,” Peter said, “‘nd m’ arms are stuck ‘n hurt.”

“Your arms are stuck because you were cuffed, remember?” Mr. Stark prompted, and Peter vaguely did, he thought he could remember trying to pull away from a bar but a sharp pain and the dripping of blood down his arms had stopped him, “but I don't know about your legs, can you see what’s got them stuck?”

“Uh,” Peter instantly looked upwards.

“Your legs, Kiddo,” Mr. Stark said.

“Can’t you see?” Peter slurred.

“Sorry, Bud, I kinda need your help on this one,” Mr. Stark said.

Peter sighed, why was Mr. Stark so determined to stop him from sleeping? It was unfair, he was so tired. So, after a few moments of grumbling loudly - mainly for Mr. Stark’s sake, so he would know Peter wasn't impressed about being kept awake - he finally looked at his legs.

“Oh,” he mumbled, nausea swirling in his stomach as he tried to force his brain to comprehend what he was looking at, “there- there’s a- a thing.”

“A thing?” Mr. Stark prompted.

“Oh,” Peter gasped, “it hurts!”

“Peter?”

Peter let out a strangled scream and hot tears instantly started to roll down his cheeks, carving their way through the grime that was coating them, his legs were in agony, it felt as though they were being ripped and torn apart by the metal beam that was covering his lower limbs, and if that wasn't enough, it was topped off by a concrete slab that had come to rest on top of the beam.

Some part of Peter registered that he had come close to that beam landing on his head, and he wouldn't have been in any situation to complain about pain then, because he would have been killed instantly.

“Kiddo, breathe, you’re doing great,” Mr. Stark said soothingly, “just breathe through it, you can do this.”

“Are-” Peter broke off to gasp for breath, it was surprising how much pain could wind a person, he was struggling, “are you- ah- hurt?”

“Nothing major,” Mr. Stark said, “don’t waste your energy worrying about me, Kiddo.”

But wasn't that exactly what Mr. Stark was doing?

“I- I tried,” Peter remembered, fighting the pain as best he could so that he could tell Mr. Stark that he’d done his best.

“I know you did,” Mr. Stark said, but Peter could tell that the man was just agreeing to get him to be quiet, to stop him from wasting his energy, but this was worth wasting energy for, he needed to say this.

“No,” Peter argued, “no, you don't.”

“Alright, calm down, I’m listening, alright?” Mr. Stark said, “just try not to move too much.”

“Ok,” Peter said, having to think hard to force his mouth to form the words properly, “I- I tried… to move you.”

“Oh, Pete,” Mr. Stark muttered, “I know you did, and I wish you hadn't, you took the brunt of that blast and I should- I should have been the one to do that.”

Peter laughed, a metallic taste on his tongue, “your ol’ man bones couldn’ handle tha’,” he said, his words beginning to slur again as the adrenaline of seeing the beam of his legs faded and the exhaustion returned.

“I’m gonna let that slide as long as you wake up, alright Peter?” Mr. Stark asked, but Peter couldn't be bothered to answer, he was just so tired, “Parker, come on now!”

Mr. Stark’s voice had raised suddenly that Peter jolted in shock, “Mis’er Star’ come on,” he said with an undeniable whine in his voice.

“Kid, I know you’re tired, I know you want to sleep, and I know you’ve done absolutely everything you can to protect me but right now I need to protect you, alright? I need to make sure that I can get you back home to May,” Mr. Stark said, his voice low and serious, “so do me just one more favour, alright? Stay awake, just stay awake until help gets to us.”

Peter paused and forced his eyes open once more, when had they even closed, “I’ll do m’ best.”

“That’s all I can ask.”

“Hey, Mis’er Star’?” Peter slurred, “you sure h’lp’s comin’?”

“Yeah, there was already police outside,” Mr. Stark said, “and besides, it’s not easy to miss something like this, they’re probably digging us out right now.”

“How long?”

“Ah, I don’t know,” the older man admitted, “they’ll have to do it carefully, they won’t want to risk this stuff shifting and potentially collapsing further.”

“Tha’ c’n happen?” Peter was alarmed, he was already in so much pain, and fighting so hard to stay awake for Mr. Stark’s sake, he couldn't bear to think about the possibility that the pain could increase, maybe another beam would fall on him. Maybe that one would kill him.

“Don’t worry, Underoos, they’ll be doing everything they can to prevent that.”

Peter swallowed heavily, “I don’ wanna die,” he admitted, feeling safe to do so in the oppressing darkness where the threat of his mortality was lingering in the cracks between the concrete slabs and dripping from the broken pipes.

“You’re not going to die,” Mr. Stark said sternly, Peter wished he could believe him.

The pain was just too much to bear and he wasn't sure that he could see a way out the other side, he could feel the agony tempting him to give in, to give up.

“Well th’n, tell help t’ hurry,” Peter slurred, blinking heavily.

The closer he came to falling asleep the further away the pain seemed to drift and he couldn't help but wonder why Mr. Stark would want him to hold on?

“PETER!”

“Huh?”

“Kid, I’ve been trying to get your attention for minutes,” Mr. Stark said, his voice was no longer gently placating him and carefully trying to convince him to hold on, instead he was panicked.

Peter had caused that.

“There are two heat signatures under you,” a woman’s voice said, she was muffled by everything that was covering him and Mr. Stark.

“They’re comin’,” Peter mumbled, “Mis’er Star’, they’re comin’”

“That’s great,” Mr. Stark said, “see, Kid, you just have to hold on a little longer, just a little bit, alright? You’ve held on this long, so I know you can give me a little more time.”

“I dunno,” Peter mumbled, letting his eyes fall shut.

“Kid, they’re here, we’re being rescued, don't you dare leave me now, you’ll be on clean-up duty for a year with Dum-E.”

Peter wanted to laugh at the threat, he wanted to so badly, but he couldn't even muster up a smile. All he could do was lie there, uncomfortable and hurting more than he had ever hurt in his life, and listen.

“Peter?”

Yeah, I hear you, Mr. Stark, Peter thought, I’m sorry I couldn't do this for you, I’m so sorry, I’m just not strong enough…

“PETER!”

Just as Peter was ready to let himself fully embrace the darkness, a bright stream of light broke through, illuminating the dust particles in the air and revealing the fresh, outside world.

“It’s Tony Stark!” someone shouted, “get me extra hands now!”

“No one fucking touches me until that kid is in an ambulance,” Mr. Stark shouted, “I want him seen first.”

“Mr. Stark, let us help-”

“Help the kid!” Mr. Stark said, “please.”

There was a hushed conversation that Peter no longer had the energy to listen to, so he let his eyes fall shut once more… that was until the thing on his legs was shifted and the pain went from excruciating to unbearable. He screamed.

“Stop, please!” he shouted as he sobbed and writhed in pain, trying to fight the hands that were holding onto him, “no more! No more!”

“You’re going to be alright, Mr. Parker, we’re going to get you help,” one of them said.

But Peter didn't care about that anymore, he just wanted it all to go away, he wanted the pain to stop, he was done. He continued to sob and plead for them to stop touching him - he had been so close to the darkness, he had almost been pain free, why did they have to ‘help’?

“Alright, you’re out, see that? You’re out,” the person told him. Peter’s eyes opened just a slit, and quickly shut again as the brightness caused them to sting - or maybe that was the remnants of the grit in his eyes, although how his tears hadn't rinsed that all out was beyond him.

“Sleep?” Peter asked quietly.

“Not yet,” the person said gently, “almost time, alright?”

“Hmm,” Peter hummed as he ignored their words and let himself drift into a more pleasant world where he was spending time with May and Mr. Stark. Happy was there too, with his grumpy mutterings. Miss. Potts was holding the attention of the room, and at some point, Ned and MJ appeared.

It was nice.

It was pain free.

He didn't hear Mr. Stark screaming for him as he was also pulled from the rubble.

Tag List: @joyful-soul-collector @thatavengersbitch @spidey-reids-2003 @clover-roseee @thespydersargon @iron-loyalty @ormbunkar @justme--emily @pookiethefrickinbunn @pillowspace @akalovelymaybe

DM or send an ask to be added/removed from tag list.

A sequel with Peter and Tony recovering will be coming.

#peter parker #tony stark #Iron Man #spider-man #whump #whumptober #whumptober 2020 #the targets we paint #ttwp

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monaisme · 4 years ago

Text

One Week Later - Chapter Four

This is the sequel to my one-shot, “The Battle”

Going through a magical portal was definitely one way to distract from the nerves borne of having to step back into one’s life five years later and all the chaos that came with it.

The portal didn’t seem like a big deal after the fact, especially after spending the last days watching the successful use of them as those remaining in Wakanda were reunited with family and friends. It didn’t stop Peter’s brain from wondering for a quick second how Wong’s magic worked—if he was really just stepping through or if there was more to it?—Like the transporters in Star Trek. Maybe that ring he’d been wearing contained technology that manipulated the particulate in the atmosphere and—

His train of thought derailed as Mr. Stark finally came through the portal and the circle shrunk and fizzled away into nothing.

“Well,” he announced as he glanced back at the vanished means of entry, “That wasn’t my flashiest entrance, but it’ll do.”

Mrs. Stark rolled her eyes and stepped up to give him a kiss. “Yes, dear, whatever you say.” She teased as she caressed his cheek. “That exit, though...” She gave her husband a playful wink and then patted his face. “The Divine Miss M would be proud.”

Mr. Stark smirked, “Yeah, Wong will definitely pay for that later.” He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer then planted a soft kiss on her lips. He mumbled, “I’m so glad we’re home.”

Peter had watched as they did their flirting thing, but mention of home had him looking away pretty quick. He fought to tamp down his discomfort.

Five years ago, Mr. Stark had been freshly engaged and behaving exactly how Mr. Stark was expected to behave, all snark and sarcasm with the occasional emotional outburst.

And Mrs. Stark was, well—she was Pepper Potts, but not just Pepper Potts. She was Ms. Potts; CEO to Stark Industries, #1 on the Forbes list of “100 Most Powerful Women” in 2017, and MJ had just told him—he sighed as he mentally corrected himself, MJ had told him five years ago that she was creeping up on Oprah and Beyonce in terms of net worth. He’d met her a few times when she’d stop by the lab to make sure Mr. Stark was drinking more than just coffee and consuming actual food—not just the mystery smoothies Dum-E would make for him on occasion. She’d been intimidating, but always polite and kind and left the lab with a smile for Peter and a peck on the cheek for Mr. Stark.

And while he’d been stuck in that stone? Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts had gotten married, built a home... moved on, and here he was— Peter was getting tired again just thinking of it.

Five years later was weird.

Peter scuffed his toe against the floor, unintentionally drawing attention to himself.

Mr. Stark straightened the two of them up and turned to him immediately, making sure to grab his wife’s hand. “Yeah.” It was Mr. Stark’s turn to blush. “Sorry about that. I guess we’re all a little relieved to be back, right? We can finally get back to normal?”

Peter chuckled quietly and shrugged as he refused to look up at the pair. “I guess?” He replied, but in his head, he knew better.

“Well,” The pair moved closer to him and Mr. Stark put a supportive arm around his shoulder. “I’m not even going to ask what you want to do, kid.” Mr. Stark stated as he turned Peter around and started walking him through the living room of the penthouse, “but before we figure out when you can see May, I need to know if an in person visit is even in the cards for today. I’ll just pop down to the med bay and have a quick chat with the doctor and—“

Peter didn’t think before he stopped moving and the words fell out of his mouth, all desperate and pleading. “Can’t I just come with you?” Mr. Stark was opening his mouth to say no, Peter was sure of it, so he kept going, “I don’t even need to talk to her! I’ll stay back and out of the way and everything. Please? I just want to see her.”

Mr. Stark couldn’t hide the sadness in his eyes. “Pete, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

But Peter was determined. “But it’s May, Mr. Stark!” He begged. “And you can’t tell me she hasn’t missed me, I mean, it’s been five years for her and I know she’d want to see me—“

“Kid, that has nothing to do with it. I promise. You know what your aunt is like.” Mr. Stark seemed to hunt for his next words, “She’s a beast in the best possible way—but now? She’s not, and the last thing she’d want is for you to see her... less than one hundred percent because then she’ll get upset that you’re worrying about her and then you’ll end up getting upset and none of us want that either, do we?”

Peter tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “No. I get it, that’s cool. Just...” He trailed off before he said something stupid. He understood. He’d heard the doctor only a couple of hours earlier and he knew he couldn’t just go running into the med bay to throw himself at Aunt May. Stuff was going on and he wasn’t going to get in the way of it.

“Let’s give her chance to put on her game face, okay?”

“Okay.” Peter couldn’t have sounded more glum if he’d tried. He hated this.

“Hey, kid,” Mr. Stark pulled him into an awkward side hug as they all started walking again. “I promise you, we’ll get this sorted, but here’s what we’re gonna do. First, we’re gonna get you set up in your room,” they turned down into a hallway beyond the living room, “so you can take a nice, long shower—wash off all of those teenager cooties you’ve been sporting.” Mr Stark ruffled Peter’s hair as he attempted to lighten the mood. “Then, by the time you’re done, I’ll be back with all the information we need so we can make a plan, alright?”

Peter nodded even though he wanted nothing more than to disagree with everything Mr. Stark was suggesting and make a break for the med bay. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. Five years ago, he was supposed to help get the gauntlet and then come home and train with the Avengers after May grounded him forever... and now, even his freaking homecoming was wrong. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to deal with all of this.

Mr. Stark steered him through a doorway and stopped. “So, kid. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Peter blinked, confused. “Um, what—?“

“You’re room, buddy, what do you think?” Mr. Stark gestured into the room they were now standing in. “We tried to make it exactly like your old one... got FRIDAY to...”

Peter tuned Mr. Stark out as he stepped further into what was definitely a space meant for him. Now that he was paying attention, it took a second to know that he was in the exact same room Mr. Stark had put aside for his use before half of the universe disa—

It was like a needle scratching across a record in his brain. NO.

He needed to change the thoughts in his brain—wished it was as easy to do for himself as it was for the schematics laying about the lab... a swipe of the hand and BOOM, a fresh start—the lab he hadn’t been in for five years because he was trapped in a stone.

NO. He scolded himself again and clenched his fists tight; thrust them into the pockets of his sweatpants as he tried to reframe it. He needed to make it something else before Mr. Stark ended up looking at him that pitying way again.

Okay.

It was the same room Mr. Stark had put aside for his use on those nights when they’d goof around with Mr. Stark’s tech until stupid late and then the two of them would fight over whether 80s horror movies were the superior movie genre when anyone with real taste knew that Star Wars and all things sci-fi was where it was at.

Yeah, that was better. He could do this.

He tried to relax his shoulders as he took in some of the details.

Peter was grateful that the room itself smelled as fresh and clean as the last time he’d been in it. The laundry detergent used to wash his bedding was even the same. His posters were on the walls and his books were back on the tiny bookshelf by the desk set up next to the wide expanse of window. The pens, papers, books, and even an unfinished lego project he’d left upon it during his last weekend were sitting in a box, waiting to be unpacked.

It was almost exactly where it was all supposed to be.

Almost.

And then—

Peter remembered an April Fool’s Day when he and Ned had been little. It had fallen on a Saturday, which of course meant a sleepover for the two new friends and, while May and Ben slept on, the boys had decided to be as diabolical as six year olds could be. It had taken all of three minutes, for all of the giggles and impromptu pillow fight, but they’d switched all of the red throw cushions from the couch with the brown throw cushions from the two armchairs in the living room. The cutlery tray in the kitchen was given the same treatment before Peter and Ned were satisfied with their first ever attempt at foolery.

It was insanity, and May and Ben were absolutely baffled at how something so strange could have happened while they slept!

Peter smiled sadly at the memory as he realized this was that moment, except it wasn’t a goofy prank by two silly kids. It was like everything in the room was six inches to the left and Peter was supposed to be confused that something wasn’t quite right—

Nothing was right.

He wondered if this would be the thing that pushed him over the edge.

“Pete?” Mr. Stark asked again, softer this time and laced with an undertone of concern.

He closed his eyes for a moment then pasted a smile on his face. “It’s great, Mr. Stark.” He turned to face him, hoped he’d buy the ruse. “You wouldn’t know that anything was different except that my desk is finally tidy.”

Mr. Stark chuckled, “Look, kid, I know it’s not quite ri—“

“No! It’s absolutely fine!” Peter couldn’t allow him to acknowledge the imperfection of it or he’d lose it. “I hadn’t even thought about... this. It’s just like I left it,” he lied.

Mr. Stark wasn’t convinced. Peter could see it on his face. “Peter? Tell me what’s going on in your head. I can see that something is—“

“No.” Yup. He really needed to not be talking about it, “Everything’s great... this is great, Mr. Stark, thanks so much for doing this for me.” Peter then looked behind him to Mrs. Stark still standing in the hallway. “And you, too, Mrs. Stark. I’ll try really hard to not be irritating while I’m here.” He kept that same fake grin going, hoped for the best.

And then Peter put an arm around Mr. Stark and ushered him toward the door.

Mr. Stark pushed back a little, making his desire to stay obvious. “Pete? What are you doing?”

“Just what you asked, Mr. Stark. I’m gonna jump in a shower now and get ready for the day.” He’d gotten Mr. Stark one step into the hallway when the man pulled free of Peter’s unintentional restraint, turned around and braced himself in the door frame.

“Peter, stop.” He tried to catch Peter’s eye. “What’s going on?”

The question stopped Peter cold in his tracks. He was absolutely not prepared to answer the question. “What do you mean? I just said—“ He glanced over his shoulder back into the room. “Everything’s great.”

“Yeah, Pete, I hear you. You keep saying it. It’s great, but that’s not what I’m picking up here.” His voice held nothing but concern and he stepped closer to Peter. “Do you want to try again?”

And his plan had failed in all of one minute.

Dammit.

An unexpected anger flared, “No, I really don’t.” He hadn’t yelled, but he was a near thing. “Can I please just take a shower now?” He tugged at the sweatshirt that wasn’t his, stalked toward the dresser he’d yet to inspect and pulled open the drawer that thankfully held his t-shirts. He’d hoped it would be enough of a cue that Mr. Stark needed to leave, but that was apparently too much to ask.

“Peter, c’mon. I need to know what’s going on in that genius brain of yours. Do you want to talk? Do we need to change something about the room?”

“NO! It’s already changed enough!” Peter snapped. He grabbed his favourite shirt and slammed the drawer shut with enough force that the dresser hit the wall behind it with a crash.

Mrs. Stark gasped at the outburst, bringing Peter back to himself.

He froze where he stood, his ears flushed with embarrassment at the loss of control-- being caught out. “Shit. I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

Mr. Stark stood silent as he waited for Peter to settle down, Mrs. Stark coming to stand beside her husband as the tension hung thick in the air.

And never before had he wanted Mr. Stark to leave him alone so badly.

“I think I need... can I just have a minute, please?” He whispered and fidgeted with the shirt in his hands.

“Peter, I don’t think we should--” his words cut off.

Mrs. Stark put a hand on Mr. Stark’s arm, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “Tony, wait a minute.” She gave Mr. Stark a ‘look,’ “It’s been a long week, and an especially difficult day for Peter. You go check in at the med bay while I check in with the others and give him a chance to catch his breath.” She addressed Peter next. “Does that sound like a good idea?”

Mr. Stark opened his mouth to protest, “But—”

Mrs. Stark didn’t bother to hide her glare. “I’m sorry. Did I pose that as a question?”

Even Peter knew from that tone that CEO Ms. Potts—um, Mrs. Stark was coming out to play, so he wasn’t surprised when Mr. Stark grumbled out a petulant ‘no.’

“Good.” She turned to Peter next, spoke kindly. “You take all the time you need, honey. I can’t imagine we’ll be longer than a half hour, but if you need more time than that, then you take it. We’ll meet up in the living room when we all finish. Does that sound good to you?”

Peter nodded a ‘yes,’ though he still refused to look at either of them.

She smiled, like the last minutes of Peter’s tantrum hadn’t happened, then continued. “Perfect. We’ll get out of your hair.”

She made to steer Mr. Stark out of the room, but he again stopped and turned to address his mentee. “Hey—“

But Peter refused to look at the man.

Mr. Stark tried again, “Hey, buddy. Listen to me. No one is mad. Okay?” He seemed to grapple with finding the right words for a second and then went on. “We all know this is messed up and no is going to blame you for not knowing how to react—but you have to talk to us okay?”

Peter couldn’t bring himself to respond.

Mr. Stark sighed, seemingly giving up on the moment. Peter glanced up, thinking he’d watch them walking out the door, but blinked in surprise at Mr. Stark waiting patiently for him to look up.

“If you need anything... if you need me, you let FRIDAY know and she’ll get me. Understood?”

Peter did nod at that, but kept quiet.

Mr. Stark sniffed and then cleared his throat. “Good. Go take your shower, sweetheart. We’ll see you in the living room when you’re done.” Peter thought he’d reach out to hug him, but he held himself back and Peter wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Instead, Mr. Stark grasped Mrs. Stark’s hand, gave Peter a wink and a nod, and the two of them left.

He waited a few seconds, listened for the concerned voices talking about giving him time to die away in the hall and then sighed in relief.

Finally.

Peter was alone for the first time since, well, he guessed five years ago.

He stopped the thoughts again. It was too much, and he had thirty minutes to pull himself together, so that’s what he was going to do.

* * * * * *

Peter took a couple of minutes to be still and hoped it would be enough to get through whatever came next.

It wasn’t.

He did the breathing exercises MJ had taught the decathlon team before that huge meet against Bronx School of Science.

Maybe that took the edge of a little?

Finally, Peter gave up, realizing that it wasn’t going to matter what he did, at least for now. He just needed to get up and move.

And so he did.

He grabbed the rest of his clothes from the dresser, consciously ignoring the drywall dust on the floor behind it, and stepped into the ensuite.

FRIDAY had already started the shower knowing that Peter’s preferences wouldn’t have changed, so he stripped and stepped under the hot spray. He closed his eyes and counted his breathing again, but now that he’d moved from the quiet of his room, the urgency to get done and get to the living room started pressing on him.

He could do this. Whatever the world had in store for him, he’d manage. He’d done the whole starting over thing before, after all and hiding from it wasn’t going to change anything.

He wiped the water away from his face and grabbed the bottle of shampoo from the shelf, smiling to himself as he recognized the brand and scent on the label. He wanted to be quick, but he sound of the water beating against the ceramic tile and the soothing fragranced steam relaxed him more than he’d anticipated.

Maybe he’d be alright?

After a few more minutes of luxuriating in the heat, Peter finished washing up and stepped out to dry himself off, not bothering to do anything special with his curls. He slipped on his boxers then his jeans, keeping the towel around his neck so his hair wouldn’t drip everywhere. He finished off with one last vigorous scrub and tossed the towel into the hamper behind the door. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, took a deep breath to center himself and caught a whiff of it...

He wondered how quickly Happy had been able to pull his stuff out of storage and how many times his clothing had been washed and washed and washed... all to try and get rid of that musty, unused smell that clings to old, discarded clothing. Except that the clothes hadn’t been outgrown or discarded—and below the layers of wash after wash he could still tell with his stupid enhanced senses that all that Peter was before was that stink of age and neglect.

An unnatural calm settled upon him as he pulled the shirt down from his face and left the bathroom.

He grabbed forgotten socks from another dresser drawer and sat himself on the bed to get them on.

He realized he’d get no reprieve from all of the reminders, and wondered why he wasn’t more upset.

It didn’t matter, though.

He looked at the clock on his bedside table. He’d already taken forty minutes and needed to get out to the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Stark were waiting—

And Peter figured that after five years, they’d waited long enough.

#fanfiction #Irondad and Spiderson #Avengers: Endgame #non-compliant #ao3fic #AO3 fanfic #OBlossom

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thebibliomancer · 4 years ago

Text

Essential Avengers: Hawkeye #1-4

September, 1983

Listen to the Mockingbird

Now for something completely different.

-OR- Further justifying why the posts are titled Essential Avengers when I’m just going to put a colon and then an Avengers to get Essential Avengers: Avengers. Its because sometimes its not Avengers!

Sometimes its Hawkeye.

Since I’m doing four issues in one post, I’m not going to go as in-depth as I usually do.

So, last times on Avengers as related to Hawkeye: Hawkeye was cut from the Avengers due to a limited roster. He eventually got a job as the security chief at Cross Technological Enterprises with the same lack of restraint that got him a job with the Avengers. He’s been doing that for a while, since pre-200. Recently the Avengers needed beef up their roster and Cap and Iron Man convinced him to rejoin, which Hawkeye has done while also keeping his security chief job.

During an Avengers mission TO RESCUE THE PRESIDENT, he broke his leg and was put on medical leave from the team. He got one of the CTE people to build him a rocket-sled that he could putt around in. Judging by the lack of cast, his leg is better but he’s still using the cool rocket-sled.

And that’s where we are. Hawkeye has a cool rocket-sled and is actually holding down an actual job at Cross Technological Enterprises. He’s seems to still be on leave from the team despite his leg being better.

The miniseries starts with Hawkeye congratulating himself on getting a cool rocket-sled, even though it cost all of his money.

Hawkeye: “‘Bad guys beware -- Hawkeye’s in the air!’ Hmmm, not the worst slogan an aerial archer could have... but close.”

At least he’s self-aware. Some days that’s all you can ask of Hawkeye!

He spots three suspicious characters suspiciously sneaking and swoops down on the rocket-sled, taking them out with ease with his totally sweet trick arrows.

Hey, note to comic makers of our modern day. Trick arrows are sweet. I don’t need to see people getting shot in the eyes with arrows when I can see like a net arrow or whatever.

The three suspicious characters are actually CTE employees that Hawkeye asked to come in on their off time to help him get a hang of archering from the rocket-sled. Including the scientist, Jorge, who built it for him!

Wow, Hawkeye!

Jorge at least was happy to do build the thing because he feels like his talents are wasted at CTE and Hawkeye encourages him to go into business for himself.

Which is probably the kind of thing that’s going to get Hawkeye a reprimand but hey, good looking out, Hawkguy.

One of the other CTE employees asks why Hawkeye uses a bow and arrow instead of... a gun. Why not just shoot people with a gun.

Hawkeye: “The bow is quieter, more versatile, and in my hands the deadliest weapon in the state. Or hadn’t you noticed, Howie?”

He doesn’t mention that its also more believably non-lethal than if he were going around with a gun. Because Hawkeye says its the deadliest weapon in the state but he’s also a huge proponent of “superheroes don’t kill!”

But point being, you can buy a comic book guy pinning people to walls with arrows or using trick arrows or shooting weapons out of their hands without killing anyone way more than you could if Hawkeye was just using a magnum.

Also, this:

I believe he is literally flexing on that dude.

CTE’s new public relations lady Sheila Danning shows up for a date with Hawkeye because I guess there’s no rule about dating co-workers. Or at least if they’re not in the same department?

Having a woman showing positive attention to Hawkeye is his cue to have a little internal monologue that’s a little bit sad.

Hawkeye: Man, this is the life! A ridiculously high-paying job, a fast machine between my legs, and a foxy lady who’s nuts about me. What more could a guy want? Until Sheila came along, I thought I was put on this world for women to dump on. Women... like the Black Widow and Scarlet Witch. No matter what I did, I just couldn’t get them to care for me like I did for them. Sheila’s different. Even though we’ve been seeing each other for only a month, what we have is special, real, like nothing I’ve ever known.

I don’t want to ruin his good times but I will remind the audience that he once rage-quit the Avengers because Scarlet Witch didn’t want to kiss him.

Anyway, Hawkeye is pretty enamored. He’s even thinking maybe it’s time he settles down.

He takes her back to his place and they start dancing to some Mantovani as he recaps his entire backstory to her.

In fairness. In faiiiirness. She asked.

But you should know the drill. Clint and Barney ran away from the orphanage to join the circus. Swordsman saw potential in Clint and trained him in archery and Clint began seeing Swordsman as a father figure so threw himself into training in hopes that Swordsman would be proud of him.

Which is funny in an odd way because there’s some same-face going on and Swordsman looks just like Tony Stark!

I wonder if Clint ever slipped up and called Tony dad and had to cover it up by continuing into a daddio.

Anyway, he caught Swordsman with stolen money and Swordmaster left him in a broken heap and skipped town when Clint wouldn’t promise to keep quiet.

Later, he saw the adulation that Iron Man got when he flew over the circus and thought wait I can do that. Got a costume and tried to become a hero. Oops, tripped into being a supervillain and enemy of Iron Man. Annd then joined the Avengers.

Hawkeye: “I’ve done many a stint with my Avenging buddies, but I think I’m finally ready to wing it solo for good. Much as I like ‘em, they cramp my style a bit too much.”

Sheila: “Fascinating story, Clint. Looks like I’ve got a real self-made man. How about if I try to unmake you a little?”

And then they’re about to do sexy times when Clint’s emergency beeper goes off. Because somehow the emergency always knows when you’re horny or mid-ablution.

Hawkeye has to suit back up and head out back to work

Hah.

But anyway, he catches a lady in a very sleevesy costume prowling around and during some back and forth and further back and forth pinned you no pinned you action, she introduces herself as Mockingbird, an ex-shield agent and freelance crimebuster (I think that means superhero?).

Some underworld contacts of hers led her to investigate Cross Technological Enterprises under suspicion that CTE is manufacturing mass mind control technology right under a certain Avenger slash archer’s nose. I.e., Hawkeye.

She wants him to lead her to warehouse 10 but their conversation is interrupted by a security night shift who rush in and surround Mockingbird despite Hawkeye ordering prior to the action scene to let him handle it.

They cuff Mockingbird and take her away but oddly claim that they thought Hawkeye sent the signal for them to charge in.

Hawkeye is perplexed and vexed wondering if there’s anything to Mockingbird’s story. He doesn’t know the full extent of what CTE manufactures and there was some shady business in Marvel Fanfare #3 where a vice-president was using CTE facilities to manufacture a bomb.

Mockingbird’s story bugs him so much that he returns home to Sheila and tells her that there’s something he has to take care of and sends her home in a cab.

He returns to Cross on his sweet rocket-sled and investigates warehouse 10, finding it empty but with a lot of fresh tracks in the dust, like something was moved in only the past hour or so.

Also, a bunch of security staff show up and point guns at him.

That’s also a red flag.

When reminding them he’s their boss doesn’t settle them down, he rolls to the floor to shoot out the lights like a cool action guy and then starts taking them out in the dark just by shooting whenever he hears one of the idiots make a sound.

But one of the guards has Sheila hostage even though she was supposed to have gone home so Hawkeye has to surrender.

The guards toss him into a pit with Mockingbird. Just an oubliette that CTE has on premise, as ya do.

Hawkeye demands to speak with Sheila so he knows she’s alright and whoops she’s in on it.

Sheila Danning, heartbreaker: “Barton -- you stupid fool! Why did you have to be so conscientious? It was my job to keep you distracted so you’d have no time to notice the operation Cross had been contracted for -- a very costly, deadly operation.”

Hawkeye, heartbroken: “What are you talking about, Sheila? Are you saying they paid you to -- to --”

Sheila: “Yes, they paid me. I was pretty convincing, wasn’t I? You never had the slightest idea that I could sooner love a dog than a cornball Romeo with delusions of adequacy like you.”

Hawkeye: “You can’t mean that! They must’ve brainwashed you, poisoned your mind against me! Or -- or maybe you’re not Sheila at all, an imposter, or a robot -- !”

Sheila: “Don’t kid yourself, Barton. I’m the one and only. The woman who could barely keep from snickering when you told her your carnival story this evening.”

Ouch.

I like to mock Hawkeye because he deserves some light ribbing but ouch, she slipped a knife right between those ribbings.

That poor dolt was thinking about proposing and she was paid to distract him by feigning interest. Oof ouch.

Anyway, since CTE has suddenly become Bond-esque, they start dumping liquid industrial waste into the pit to drown and/or melt Hawkeye and Mockingbird.

The stuff is like acid but Hawkeye is kind of wallowing in being dumped and doesn’t care.

Hawkeye: “I ain’t moving. All my life I’ve been dumped on. I’m beginning to enjoy it.”

Mockingbird tells him that if he lets himself be melted by industrial waste because he feels sorry for himself, his ex wins. But that doesn’t move him so she has to mock him into action. This is what she was named for!

Mockingbird: “So this is what they taught you in the Avengers? What a bunch of jerks! They should see you now. I’ll bet you let them down in a pinch, too. Whenever your feelings get hurt.”

Hawkeye: “SHUT UP! I’m gonna get us out of here, lady. Then I’m going to kill Sheila for what she did to me. Then you’ll get yours, too.”

Mockingbird: “Sure, sure. Get us out first.”

Hah, I like Mockingbird.

And I like Hawkeye too. He makes good use of what he has to escape this Bond-esque trap. He doesn’t have his bow or his arrows but he keeps a fifty foot length of cord in his boot and spare arrowheads in his tunic. He calls his rocket-sled with the remote control, ties the cord to a spare rocket arrow-tip and rockets himself and Mockingbird out of the pit and up to his rocket-sled.

Then Hawkeye says he has to go attend some private business and Mockingbird is like cool, I’ll wait for you and hops onto a roof.

Hawkeye rams the rocket-sled through the window of Sheila Danning’s office and jump kicks the guards she has with her and confronts her.

Hawkeye: “You hurt me, Sheila... More than anything ever hurt in my life.”

Sheila: “Stay back, Hawkeye! I - I --”

Hawkeye: “I could kill you for what you did to me. But I won’t. I... can’t. I just don’t care anymore... about you or about whatever scheme Cross is up to! Give me my bow and quiver back and I’ll go.”

Tangentially, like an anime, his shirt is a lot flimsier than his pants and melted off in the acid while his pants are tattered but intact. If only they made shirts out of pants...

And if only they made any outfit out of lady outfit. Mockingbird’s outfit has a few holes and tatters but her whole top didn’t dissolve like Hawkeye’s did!

Sheila does give Hawkeye his archery stuff but warns him that he Knows Too Much and Cross will come after him.

Kind of a weird flex to pull on AN AVENGER WHO KNOWS THOR but you do you, Cross Technological Enterprises.

Hawkeye just takes off on his sweet rocket-sled without responding, zooming past where he left Mockingbird who has to jump onto the moving rocket-sled because he does not slow down for her.

Mockingbird: “Got your business taken care of, sport?”

Hawkeye, crying a little: “Shut up, just shut up. If you hadn’t shown up, none of this could have happened.”

Oof.

That’s the hurt speaking buddy. Ignorance wouldn’t have been bliss here because as soon as Cross didn’t need to distract you any longer, Sheila probably would have found some excuse to dump you.

Also, their scheme was asinine! They don’t have other facilities? Just build the mind control doohickey somewhere else instead of paying someone to distract Hawkeye with horny!

October, 1983

POINT BLANK!

So after having his heart broken and wallowing in some acid sludge in the last issue, Hawkeye is in a bad place. Emotionally. And also geographically.

He’s standing on some abandoned railroad tracks under the West Side Highway and shooting arrows at a bullseye he crudely drew on a cement block.

And Good Archer Hawkeye has not hit a single bullseye because of all the emotional turmoil. Also, since he’s shooting at concrete, he’s breaking all of his arrows.

He’s also wearing his no-shirt acid-tattered costume.

And he’s been here for 42 hours without sleeping, eating, or managing to hit a bullseye.

He’s in a bad place.

So he passes out and he’s eventually found by some random street toughs who recognize him as an Avenger (although they think his name is Nighthawk womp womp) and decide ‘hey lets kick his ass and do him a murder maybe.’

Hawkeye comes to, as one might when people are kicking them in the head, and manages to nail three bullseyes on the three toughs he didn’t kick unconscious.

Hawkeye: Three bullseyes. Two kayos. Five sleezos in dreamland. Thanks, creeps. You gave me a reason to go on living. I’m just not sure what it is!

But now Hawkeye is at a loss of what to actually do. He refuses to go to the Avengers for help because blah blah blah muh pride. He can’t go and “mooch” off of them. So he decides to go check out the apartment he had through Cross Technological Enterprises and see whether they’ve cleared him out or not.

They have.

Everything he had to his name except the clothes on his back and bow in his hand gone. Arrow-making tools and spare costumes gone too.

But he also finds Mockingbird waiting for him.

Mockingbird: “Hello, Hawk. Can I buy you some breakfast?”

Hawkeye: “MOCKINGBIRD! Lady, you’re not one of my favorite people, but I know a good offer when I hear one.”

A free breakfast is a free breakfast.

Mockingbird takes Hawkeye back to her apartment and apologizes for blowing up his life but also says that it would have happened eventually anyway even had she never come along.

Which, yeah, you can only pay a person to pretend to love someone they hate for so long before the mask slips.

She also offers to mend his costume. Not sure how she’s thinking. Its not torn. Its half gone.

Hawkeye says yeah sure but hey why don’t you narrate your ENTIRE BACKSTORY.

So Mockingbird introduces herself as Barbara Morse, Bobbi to her friends.

She was a biology whiz at Georgia Tech and went with her favorite professor when she signed on to a government project to recover the super-soldier serum that made Captain America so super.

SHIELD was one of the sponsors of the project so Bobbi got to know several SHIELD agents and realized ‘hey being a spy sounds AMAZING’ and signed up with SHIELD’s spy school.

She graduated top of her class and was sent on a mission to track down Ka-Zar who SHIELD wanted to hire.

Mockingbird: “I found the jungle man all right. Even got involved with him, if you know what I mean. But things never quite worked out between us.”

Oh my god, what a power move to brag about nailing discount-Tarzan while recapping your life story.

Later, she investigated SHIELD itself at the request of a Congressman under the identity as the Huntress. But not the crossbow one. But because of her actions, she gained the reputation as a traitor to SHIELD.

So she changed her name to Mockingbird and took the evidence of corrupt agents to Nick Fury. And got shot a couple times in the attempt.

She had to spend six months recovering and after turned down a SHIELD promotion to go solo.

Mockingbird: “Not that I had anything against S.H.I.E.L.D... I just got used to operating alone. It wasn’t long after I got back into circulation that I came across the lead that took me to Cross Tech and I bumped into you. So that’s my lifestory in a nutshell, Hawk.”

I don’t know why I thought Mockingbird debuted in this series because she has a lot of backstory here. She showed up in Astonishing Tales #6 unnamed, was introduced as Dr. Barbara Morse in Astonishing Tales #12, was introduced in her Huntress (but not that one) identity in Marvel Super Action #1, and even Mockingbird debuted in Marvel Team-Up #95! Geez, Bobbi!

Annnnnd then Mockingbird realizes that Hawkeye fell asleep on her while she was recapping her entire life!

Bobbi doesn’t hold it against him, realizing how exhausted he must have been.

She tucks him in and heads off to go pick up some supplies to fix his costume.

Later, someone picks the locks to the apartment door and silently comes up and puts a gun to the sleeping Hawkeye’s head.

Perhaps it is instinct -- a survival sense honed in hundreds of life-and-death struggles... But somehow Clint Barton feels the cool gun metal at his temple, instantly recognizes it for what it is -- and reacts.

(We actually see a hint of this dingus at Hawkeye’s apartment when he meets Mockingbird there. Implying that he somehow followed them from there to Bobbi’s apartment. Somehow. Even though Hawkeye and Bobbi took Hawkeye’s sweet rocket-sled. Good tracking, this guy.)

Hawkeye manages to dive away from the guy’s gunfire and hide behind one of those tables that looks like a giant spool. He weirdly realizes that the assassin’s gun isn’t making any sound when he fires and the bullets aren’t making any noise when they hit.

He’s in a tough spot unable to reach his bow in time when Mockingbird comes back to save Hawkeye, flipping the assassin and telling Hawkeye to grab his gun.

The assassin jumps out the window rather than deal with the both of them (Bobbi speculates its because she’s not on his hit list).

Hawkeye tests the gun after and discovers that its not silenced which means that the silencer was all in the guy’s suit, muting all the sounds he makes.

He dubs the guy Silencer and he has a pretty neat gimmick but doesn’t seem to ever appear again after this issue.

Shame. Imagine this guy against Daredevil.

Anyway, Mockingbird also managed to make Hawkeye a new outfit while she was gone.

Mockingbird: “Here -- better put this on. Half-naked men with guns make it hard for me to concentrate.”

Hawkeye: “Sure.”

God. Hawkeye’s non-reaction to that blatant flirt makes me laugh. He may as well have Saitama meme’d.

So the new outfit.

The blue is a lot darker now. The dangly part of the tunic is a lot less dangly now. And the outfit has some asymmetrical sleeves. Also, its not entirely clear on this shot but the gloves are weird. They don’t cover the sides of his fingers. I don’t know if that’s an archery thing or what and I don’t know if that’s going to be a detail that lasts once other artists start drawing this costume.

All in all, not a bad looking new outfit. Its better than that time he didn’t wear pants.

Later that night, Hawkeye figures that they need to return to Cross and figure out who hired them to build that mind-control thing. But, they’ll need help getting back into Cross.

(Hey, I just realized. Hawkeye was double Cross’d by his employer. Hah.)

They go to visit Jorge Latham, the guy who built a sweet rocket-sled for Hawkeye so probably the guy he trusts the most now.

Jorge: “What happened to you, man? We got a memo two days ago that you were fired for incompetency, and I haven’t seen you since!”

Aw man, insult to injury! They told everyone that Hawkeye was fired because he sucked too hard!

Hawkeye tells Jorge the story, in brief, about how Cross is up to something, gets information on where the special projects are done, and tells Jorge to maybe get his resume in order in case he accidentally shuts the whole company down in the course of blowing this thing wide open.

Jorge is a lot more chill about learning he might be unemployed soon than I think a lot of other people would be. Although he had already expressed he wasn’t really satisfied in his job.

Hawkeye: “The info he gave us is going to save us a lot of hassle. Sure is good to have a few folks you can trust.”

Mockingbird: “You still don’t quite trust me, do you, Hawkeye? Even after I saved your life.”

Hawkeye: “No offense, lady. But it’s going to take me a while before I can fully trust any woman again.”

Geez, really hope that doesn’t last. He already teetered into disrespect of women without becoming a full-on misogynist.

Drink your respect women juice, Hawkeye.

The two return to Cross Technological Enterprises and Hawkeye uses his electronic security neutralizer arrowhead to neutralize the security on a window so they can jimmy it open and get inside.

.... Why do you need an electronic security neutralizer arrow? The way he uses it is tracing the circuit in the window and I don’t think you could shoot an arrow in a way that did that. And if you did shoot an arrow at a security system in a window, I think you’d break the window and set off the alarm?

What a mystery.

Hawkeye has never been in the special projects department but it doesn’t take a genius to find some filing cabinets.

Mockingbird: “Locked, of course. It also doesn’t take an electronic gizmo to open a locked file. Just a hairpin. See?”

Hawkeye: “Showoff.”

This would be banter if Hawkeye didn’t look so somber.

But Hawkeye gets to be useful too when he pulls out his....... penlight arrowhead?

WHY WOULD YOU EVER NEED TO FIRE A FLASHLIGHT? WHAT PURPOSE DOES THAT SERVE??

Mockingbird: “I just don’t know how I ever got along without you and your handy tools, Mr. H.”

DON’T ENCOURAGE HIM

The Silencer guy sneaks up on the duo as they’re snooping the files and something cues Hawkeye in to swivel around and fire an electro-stun arrow. Couldn’t have been a sound so lets say air flow?

The electro-stun doesn’t stun the Silencer so him and Hawkeye end up grappling right out the window. Because that’s the kind of life Hawkeye leads.

Luckily the rocket-sled (although he’s changed the name to sky-mobile by this point) was hovering right outside so the two wind up grappling on it as it rockets around the CTE compound.

The two wind up falling off the sky-mobile and onto a smokestack... God, its starting to be like one of those giant chicken fights...

Anyway, the Silencer catches the edge but Hawkeye misses and goes plummeting into a smokestack, hopefully not to find a Spider-Man skeleton.

The Silencer drops his guard to try to figure out how the heck he’s going to get down from here and Hawkeye reemerges, yanking the Silencer down and pulling himself back up.

Not sure if the implication is that Hawkeye killed him. Hawkeye is famously vehemently ‘Avengers don’t kill!’ and the Silencer isn’t confirmed dead but also never shows up again.

Hawkeye summons the sky-sled (the caption changed the name on me again) and rockets back to where he left Mockingbird and in the meantime she’s found all the information they need to find who hired Cross to build the thing.

Hawkeye: “Run into any trouble?”

Mockingbird: “Not really.”

Hah. Apparently she beat up a room full of guards while he was gone. Good on you, Mockingbird.

November, 1983

Beating the ODDS

Pretty neat cover.

Also, pretty neat logo. I didn’t mention it earlier but yeah you have a neat logo, Hawkeye.

Mockingbird and Hawkeye return to her apartment after breaking into Cross Technological last issue.

Something that they may have done well to ponder is whether maybe it wasn’t a safe HQ anymore if that Silencer guy was able to track them there.

What I’m getting at is that there are two more assassins - Oddball and Bombshell - watching from an adjacent rooftop as the heroes head inside.

And then the apartment explodes.

Hawkey and Mockingbird manage to escape the explosion though because Mockingbird never sweeps and noticed footprints in the dust and Hawkeye used a thermite-tipped bomb-sniffing arrow.

... Okay, that gimmick arrow is valid.

Mockingbird watches her apartment burn “in increasingly sullen fascination” for two hours before Hawkeye suggests maybe coming back after everything is cooled down.

Alas, the sky-mobile was destroyed in the explosion. Alas, alas, we barely knew ye and now you’re gone.

Mockingbird has an odd sense of what’s romantic because she decides that her apartment burning down and losing all of her possessions is.

Wow, she’s been friendly and flirty with Hawkeye but she’s downright into the lug. Right during the one period in his life when he wouldn’t enjoy that. How’s that for bad timing?

Also, someone is clearly shipping these two.

Mockingbird has assorted appearances before this miniseries so I wonder who got the idea to throw her together with Hawkeye. I’ve heard rumors that it was to copy the Green Arrow/Black Canary pairing. I don’t know if that’s true or just an assumption.

Anyway, Hawkeye also finds an 8-ball in the wreckage which is odd and a clue because Mockingbird didn’t have one of those.

The two heroes realize that Cross obviously sent more hitmen after them so they got to figure out this plot before they get got.

Mockingbird withdraws the rest of her money from an ATM (only $97. Freelance superheroing just doesn’t pay...) and Hawkeye insists on spending some of that money on some arrows since he’s down to his last one.

Mockingbird: “I thought you needed specially made arrows.”

Hawkeye: “My new modular arrowheads fit on any target arrow... get ‘em at any sporting-goods store.”

This issue is a gift.

And since they now don’t have enough money to take a cab to where they’re going, they get on the subway.

Where in one of those amazingly contrived comic coincidences, Steve Rogers Captain America happens to be riding the same car!

Cap recognizes that Hawkeye is on a mission and offers to drop everything to help him.

You’re a cool guy, Cap.

Hawkeye has concerns.

Hawkeye: Aw, no. Cap is Mr. Avengers himself. I know I’m at the end of my resources, maybe way out of my depth, but if I let Cap in on it, he’ll wind up running the show... and I’ll end up on the sidelines again, just like it was back in the Avengers.

Pride goeth before something, Hawks.

Although, knowing vaguely what I know is soon upcoming, its a very timely time for Hawkeye to worry about running the show.

Hawkeye: “Ah, it’s nothing I can’t handle, old timer. Just the same old bopping the bad guys stuff.”

Cap: “I read you, soldier. Anyway, you know how to reach me if you get in a jam.”

You’re a really cool guy, Cap.

Hawkeye and Mockingbird get off at the next stop and Mockingbird grills Hawkeye about the hunky stranger, recognizing that he was probably in the superhero biz. Adding some context to Hawkeye not wanting Cap involved perhaps. Although its still a lot of dumb pride.

Hawkeye: She meets Cap in his civvies and is bowled over. No wonder I always looked like a piker around him. You know, I never realized how second rate Cap makes me feel. I’ve just go to solve this whole mess on my own. If I don’t, I may never be able to stand on my own two feet.

Anyway, then an 8-ball rolls and bonks into Hawkeye’s feet and he sees one of the assassins lurking around the corner doing him a taunt.

This issue is a gift for out of context panels. I swear.

Hawkeye realizes Oddball is baiting him but also is the exact kind of impulsive person who takes the bait. So he runs off after Oddball.

Oddball is..... apparently a juggling based assassin. Dunno why that’s such a common thing in comics. But here we are. He’s a juggling based assassin.

Hawkeye runs on ahead after Oddball and Mockingbird gets ambushed by a nun as she follows.

Its that kind of book, I guess.

Also, the nun is the other assassin Bombshell.

She’s got a Black Widow style wrist launcher for incendiary charges.

Hawkeye and Oddball get into an archery vs juggling based standoff, yes really, and then Oddball jumps onto a subway train, further luring Hawkeye. Who should really know better but ignores the part of his brain that some call common sense.

Oddball, by the by, is somewhat of an oddball. He’s just giggling and joking his way through this mission to kill an Avenger. He’s definitely following the maxim that if you do what you love, you don’t kill for money a day of your life. Or something.

When he jumps on the train he goes with “We’re having fun now, all rightee! Care for another shot, sport? I’ll match my speed to yours anyday and twice on Sunday. Time’s up, gotta go. Ta-ta!”

Hawkeye jumps onto the back of a departing subway train to keep up the pursuit and you know what, he seems like he’s having a good time too?

Hawkeye: Man, there’s nothing like a good chase to make me feel great about myself again. Wonder if Oddball would consent to be my regular sparring partner? Cap’s got the Red Skull, Iron Man has the Mandarin. Me, I never had anybody all my own.

He must be feeling some chemistry with this dude if he wants to make him his archnemesis after only one fight.

Although after this

Hawkeye decides that Oddball is way too much to be his nemesis. He’s got standards, dammit!

Oddball runs off the train, pursued by archer.

Oddball: “I could pick him off any time I want. I know I can throw faster than he can shoot. But I’m having just plain too much fun to cut it short.”

Sure, guy.

Oddball and Hawkeye wind up having a stand-off in the rafters of the subway station because that’s the kind of guy Oddball is.

Hawkeye manages to pin the guy down with an arrow to his throat but while he’s been chasing an oddball, Mockingbird got her ass kicked by a bombshell.

So a distracted Hawkeye gets knocked out via bomb to the back of the head.

Bombshell catches Hawkeye as he falls from the rafters and Oddball wonders why not just let him die.

Bombshell: “I just got a call from [the boss]. He wants these two birds brought to him to use in some kind of experiment.”

And so the third issue ends with Hawkeye and Mockingbird being carried off to the perpetrators which saves some time but being brought in as prisoners is less than ideal.

Shoulda taken up Steve on his offer, Clint.

December, 1983

“TILL DEATH DO US PART...”

I guess Hawkeye fuckin’ dies.

He sure has a lot of friends but Johnny Storm looks like he’s annoyed that he has to attend. ‘What the heck, I barely knew the guy!’

Anyway, between issues, Oddball and Bombshell have dragged Hawkeye and Mockingbird to a place and strung them up on a thing.

The place is apparently a mortuary.

And they’ve been strung up for hours judging by how their limbs feel.

The man behind it all shows himself and guy knows how to make an impression.

Not necessarily a good one.

The cross shaped codpiece is killing me.

As is Oddball juggling in the background to remind us that he is a juggler.

Crossfire: “I am Crossfire -- master subversive, brainwasher, and entrepreneur.”

Credit where its due, that’s a funny line.

Crossfire: “In the typical fashion of someone who holds all the cards, I’m going to divulge to you more than you will need to know about me and my business...”

I want to question this but he’s too self-aware about how stupid it is. I have no room to operate here.

Here is something I WILL make fun of.

Crossfire’s real name is William Cross. He is related to the guy that founded Cross Technological Enterprises. So them screwing over Hawkeye was like a family activity.

But he’s using Cross in his codename. Like if Hawkeye was instead Bartonman. It’s a choice.

Anyway, Crossfire was a CIA agent but when he realized that his real interest lie in fomenting disorder for profit, he decided him and the CIA weren’t on the same path.

Which. Guy. Dude. Fella. No.

Crossfire also realized that superheroes would eventually get in his way so he decided that his first goal is to eliminate all costumed superheroes.

Moon Knight and the Thing thwarted a prototype over in Marvel Two-in-One #52 but Crossfire managed to get away to refine his plan.

(For bigger)

His plan is pretty ingenious actually.

He’s going to kill Hawkeye. So far so good. Then dump his body in Central Park where it will be easily found.

The Avengers will find out about his death and have a funeral for him. And Crossfire made sure they’ll use Restwell Funeral because it has the best name! But more seriously because its the funeral parlor the superheroes used for Whizzer’s funeral and because Crossfire will make sure every other mortuary is booked.

HE’S PLANNING EVERY ANGLE.

Then at the service, he’ll activate the Undertaker machine which will send a subliminal RAGE signal to all the superheroes and they’ll fight to the death.

Crossfire: “Yes, I fully expect my lovely chapel to be thoroughly demolished. Don’t worry -- insurance will cover it.”

This is such a hilariously mundane concern.

Anyway, probably the whole funeral party won’t kill each other but it’ll thin the numbers, the survivors will forever be traumatized at what they did, and the government will crack down on superheroes.

And as for why he chose Hawkeye?

Crossfire: “I would think it was obvious, Hawkeye. You are the weakest, most vulnerable known costumed crimefighter in town.”

Ouch.

There’s planning to kill a guy as part of a larger scheme to kill all his friends and then there’s just being hurtful.

Further insulting injury? Crossfire is not just going to kill them. He’s going to make Hawkeye and Mockingbird kill each other by testing the Undertaker device on them.

That settles it. This guy is a dick.

The Restwell mortuary has a super sealed room for testing the device. Twelve inch thick concrete and steel walls and a door sealed with electronic lock. It would take even the Hulk some effort and Hawkeye and Mockingbird don’t even have their weapons.

Plus, there’s three cameras watching the room and the Undertaker speakers are hidden and durable.

Alas, Crossfire wouldn’t make a good Bond villain. He’s too not leaving a blatant way out of his death trap out of arrogance.

Hawkeye and Mockingbird get up close with their backs to the camera so they can whisper and make a plan.

Unfortunately, they can’t really think of a plan other than ‘try to resist brainwashing I guess?’

Mockingbird knows some SHIELD techniques and Hawkeye just promises he’ll try really hard to resist.

Hawkeye: “I really don’t want to hurt you. In the last couple days, I’ve actually kind of started, well, liking you.”

Aw.

Aww.

But Crossfire is a dick still and activates THE UNDERTAKER right after they kiss.

They try to resist but yeah that plan wasn’t a plan and wasn’t even a concept. They start fighting to the death. Ironically, Bobbi “I know SHIELD techniques” Morse throws the first kick while Hawkeye is still trying to resist.

And Mockingbird is a lot better at martial arts than Hawkeye whose muscle memory keeps tripping him up into using a bow that he doesn’t actually have.

This issue is a gift.

But yeah, Mockingbird beats the crap out of Hawkeye. Not that he doesn’t get some hits in. He even manages to surprise Crossfire who was heavily betting on Mockingbird to easily trounce his ass.

Also, during the fighting, Mockingbird manages to kick one of the cameras, jarring it so it points at the ceiling.

And then double kicks Hawkeye in the dick.

Oof.

Watching two people fight to the death, Oddball has a question. How long does the brainwashing sound effect last after being turned off?

Crossfire decides hey actually that’s an interesting thought and turns off the machine to see. Plus, for dick reasons, giving them a brief respite will “make their plight all the more poignant.”

What a dick.

The brainwashing ends almost as soon as the sound does and the two heroes stop beating the crap out of each other to be disgusted by what they were doing.

In desperation, Hawkeye finally comes up with a plan.

It’s not a good plan but he had only a couple seconds and its impressive that he has a plan at all in that brief period of lucidity.

Hawkeye huddles into the corner that the jarred camera no longer covers and goes through his spare (mispelled as space for some reason, shrug) arrowheads and finds a hypersonic arrowhead.

And if he puts the arrowhead in his mouth and activates it, it will be really loud and drown out the ultrasound! Also, shooting hypersonic frequencies INSIDE HIS SKULL will probably be bad for his hearing but what can ya do.

Crossfire reactivates THE UNDERTAKER and Hawkeye activates the mouth arrowhead with his tongue. Which feels like a “dull knife lacerating [his] brain” but at least he doesn’t want to murder all the time.

That’s something!

(Also, it’s a neat touch but the EEEEEE of the hypersonic arrowhead covers the NNNN of the ultrasonic signal. Good SFXing.)

With his wits about him, he can actually beat Mockingbird by using his strength advantage, closing in, and not letting her use her fancier jumpy techniques.

After beating the shit out of Mockingbird and feeling like shit for having to do it, Hawkeye tosses her to misalign another camera, and then feigns that he collapses from exhaustion.

Crossfire thinks that there’s no way that Hawkeye could play dead under the effect of the RAGE NOISE so he’s really down. He sends Oddball and Bombshell to retrieve the two heroes to examine.

While being carried like a potato sack, Hawkeye grabs one of Oddball’s odd balls and knocks out the juggler and then bonks Bombshell unconscious as well before she has a chance to react.

Then, he runs to get Crossfire before the guy has a chance to figure out what’s going on.

Except, Crossfire has cameras all over the dang place and knows what happened and decides that Hawkeye is such a resourceful, worthy foe that he deserves to die by irony.

(Hawkeye has no idea what the guy is saying because he can’t hear a thing after sticking a hypersonic arrowhead in his mouth)

Crossfire tries to kill Hawkeye with his own bow but whoops, remember when Hawkeye was flexing on that guy earlier about his bowstring having an absurd draw weight?

Yeah.

The dingus got irony’d by his own ploy at irony.

Hawkeye ties up Crossfire, grabs his bow and arrows because they make him happy, and runs back to check on Mockingbird.

Hawkeye: “Mockingbird -- ? You with me, sweetheart? We won. I beat them. Every last bloody oen of them. Mock -- ?” She’s not breathing. I - I killed her...!

Mockingbird: “Those tears for me, sport? Aw, shucks.”

Even beaten to hell, Mockingbird gonna sass.

And then they kiss. Which strikes me as... not a good time for it? Her face is all bruised up and she’s got a little blood going on. Ah, whatever.

Awww.

An hour later, the police show up to arrest Crossfire, Oddball, and Bombshell. Presumably Mockingbird called them as Clint still cannot hear a single thing.

Which is unfortunate because Mockingbird comes over to talk and Hawkeye is like ‘geez what is she saying right now? I hope it’s not important’ and decides to get out of the conversation ASAP before she finds out he’s gone deaf and gasp pities him!

Mockingbird: “Look, I’m not much of a joiner or anything. But I must admit that the two of us made one heckuva team. I was thinking... maybe we ought to become an item, you know what I mean? After all, you are one of the cutest --”

Hawkeye: “Yeah, well, see you around then.”

Hawkeye, you absolute fool.

THANKFULLY

Thankfully, Mockingbird isn’t the type to just go ‘wow what a jerk’ without going and ripping a person a new asshole, verbally.

So she did do that. She ran after Hawkeye and ripped him a new asshole, verbally, forced him to explain himself, probably rolled her eyes, and then dragged him to get a hearing aid.

And one week later, they’re married and relaxing in a heart-shaped tub!

Wow, they operate fast!

I mean, in fairness, we knew Hawkeye was like that. He’d known Sheila Danning for like a month before he was contemplating marriage. And we can assume Mockingbird was like that too considering she knew Hawkeye like a minute before waggling her eyebrows and insinuating sex at him.

Mockingbird: “You owe me, pal. Sure, you saved my life. But what I’m going to do to your life is more than just a one-shot deal. I’m not just talking about helping you get a hearing aid. Or the blood test, or the license, or even arranging for a quaint little cottage in the woods. I’m talking about the rest of your life, and the difference having me around is going to make in it. Maybe eloping was my idea, but I’m going to see to it that for the rest of your life, you believe that it was the best idea you didn’t quite hear.”

Hawkeye: “I hear you, Mrs. Hawkeye. I hear you.”

Awwww. They’re a cute couple. And I do like their chemistry.

So that was the Hawkeye limited series. And it was pretty good!

It introduces some lasting changes like ‘being deaf’ and ‘being married’ to the character. Of course, because comics, both of those things will come and go. And in some cases come back. Lets enjoy them while they last.

Next time on liveblogging: something a little different.

Follow @essential-avengers because I just covered a miniseries. And then I had to redo the fourth issue in just an hour because tumblr didn’t save it. Please reward me. Also, like and reblog if you’d like to reblog.

#Hawkeye #essential avengers #essential marvel liveblogging #Mockingbird #Crossfire #you'll get caught up in the #a very important miniseries for hawkeye

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joyful-soul-collector · 4 years ago

Text

Feels weird to cry with a smile

Summary: Peter spends his 17th birthday in quarantine, so Tony decides to make it a bit more special (TWs: discussion of bullying, financial problems, and very brief mentions of COVID-19)

Irondad Taglist: @phahbiyah @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @clevermuffinalmondpeach @stuck-in-a-fictional-universe @canonismybitch @freckledmountain @hold-our-destiny @not-your-housekeeper98 @misskirkstark @iron-loyalty @skeeter-110 @m3ga1nsp1r3d @nazezdha321 @peterparkerspidgeons

(Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!)

Read on Ao3

“Peterrrrr. Time to wake up sweetie.” The voice sounded rather far away, but when someone put a hand on Peter’s shoulder it seemed to jolt him back and he groaned.

“Aun’ Mayyyy, nooooo,” Peter whined, turning onto his chest and burying his face in his pillow.

“Aww c’mon, don’t you want to celebrate your birthday kiddo?” May said.

“I will celebrate very happily by sleeping,” Peter said into his pillow before turning and opening one eye with a squint. “My birthday anyway, shouldn’t I get to sleep in?”

“Well I suppose if you don’t want this cupcake here, I’ll just leave you to sleep the day away--”

“Fine, fine, I’m up,” Peter said, pushing himself off his belly and twisting around to face his Aunt, giving her a glare. “Since when did you make me cupcakes for breakfast?”

“Since it’s your birthday today and I wanted to do something special,” she said. She held up the cupcake for Peter to see. It was red velvet, with thick cream cheese frosting on top, and decorated with a black spider web. In the center was a single blue candle, which May lit with her lighter.

“Happy Birthday baby,” she said. “Make a wish.”

But Peter was still a little annoyed at being woken up, so he just gave a huff, practically sighing the candle out.

“That was pathetic,” May said, raising her eyebrows.

“That was defiance of society. I will not be peer pressured into blowing out a candle with enthusiasm.”

Peter took the cupcake and plucked out the candle, licking the frosting off the bottom before starting to unwrap it and take a bite.

“Well if you’re defying society now, I bet you don’t want those presents downstairs since society was the one to dictate that people should get presents on their birthday--”

“I take it back, I'm part of society again,” Peter said quickly. “Feel free to peer pressure me into--” But he cut off as he suddenly processed exactly what May said. “Wait… did you say presents? Plural?”

Aunt May smiled a little sadly, patting his knee.

“Well, yeah. A certain someone figured out when your birthday was and decided to come celebrate. He wanted to make it extra special since you’d be spending your 17th in quarantine,” she said.

“Wait what--Is he here!?” Peter said, nearly dropping his half-eaten cupcake in surprise.

“Better come downstairs and see,” May said with a wink, and she stood up walking out of the room and down the stairs. Peter sat in his bed for a moment, staring at where she'd disappeared before quickly shoving the rest of the cupcake in his mouth and jumping out of bed, not even bothering to change out of his pajamas before thundering down the stairs and jumping the last five steps.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter shouted when he saw Tony standing in the kitchen. Tony jumped and whirled around in time for Peter to come barreling right into his chest, hugging him tightly. Tony laughed and wrapped his own arms around Peter, ruffling his hair.

“Happy birthday kiddo,” he said. “And how many times do I have to tell you? It’s Tony now.”

“Oh right, sorry,” Peter said, releasing him.

“No worries kid. How ‘bout we get some more food in you and then we can go open your presents?”

Peter nodded enthusiastically, feeling his belly grumble hungrily for more than just a cupcake. It turns out that May and Tony had been making a large stack of pancakes before waking him up, and Peter wolfed them down happily, laughing at Tony’s jokes between bites.

When they finished they went to the living room where Peter’s presents waited. Peter kept having to remind himself it was presents, not just a present. Peter didn’t usually get more than two or three presents for his birthday; one from May, one from Ned, and as of last year, one from MJ. But he figured since he wouldn’t be having a birthday party this year (stupid pandemic), he would just be getting the one. He was fine with that, but since Tony was part of this now Peter felt almost… unprepared. He had no idea how far out Tony goes for people’s birthdays but based on news reports of how wild his parties tend to be, Peter had a feeling he didn’t exactly limit himself.

And when Peter rounded the corner to the living room, he could see he was right.

The whole room had been decorated with Spider-Man themed decorations, red and blue balloons, a large red “Happy Birthday!” banner that had black webs patterned all over it, even white streamers designed to look like his webs. On the coffee table there was a plate of cupcakes that looked just like the one May had given him upstairs, and surrounding them were far more presents than Peter thought he’d ever gotten in his life.

Some of them were big, some were small, plenty of them were in very familiar looking boxes, but some of them Peter had absolutely no clue what could be inside. They were all wrapped in Spidey themed wrapping paper of course, red with black webs with yellow comic style letters reading “Thwip!” scattered across it.

Peter couldn’t even speak; he was so surprised. His heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears, and he was suddenly starting to feel nauseous. Tony actually had to prompt him before he could get any words out.

“You like it Underoos?”

“I--Yeah! This is amazing!” Peter said, but feeling much less than amazing. Questions and anxiety were overtaking his brain and somehow it was getting hard for him to feel his legs. “This is so cool--I just--I’ll be right back, um, bathroom.”

Peter could tell he hadn’t convinced either Tony or May, but at the moment he didn’t really care. He just walked as quickly as he could to the bathroom and shut the door with the snap.

He practically fell against the sink, holding himself upright with his hands and staring down into it as he started to gasp for air.

It’s too much, that’s way too much--He shouldn’t have--Why did he do that?

When his knees started to get too wobbly Peter turned and sat on the toilet lid, clenching his fists in his hair.

That’s so much money. He spent so much money. Why did he do that? I don’t need all that, why did he do that?

Peter went down this spiral of questions for the next minute or so before a soft knock came at the door.

“Peter? Baby can I come in?” came May’s kind voice. Peter mustered up enough strength to give a short “Yeah.” May stepped in and quietly shut the door behind her.

“Hey sweetie,” she said, kneeling down to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?” Peter shook his head in frustration, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before he answered.

“That’s so much money Aunt May. He spent so much money on me. I don’t need all of that, I don’t need the decorations or the fancy wrapping paper or the freaking fifty presents in there--”

“I assure you it’s not fifty,” she said. She had that same slightly sad smile on her face that she had upstairs in Peter’s room, and it made him a little worried. “It’s okay to have things you don’t need Peter.”

“I know, I know, it’s just that that’s a lot--”

“I know, it is, Tony uh… well he goes all out with this kind of stuff. It’s how he shows people he cares, he gives them things. And obviously, he cares about you a lot hun,” she said, brushing Peter’s curls out of his eyes. Peter sighed and put his head in his hands.

“Yeah. It’s just that I’m not used to it,” he said. Almost immediately he knew that was the wrong thing to say.

“I know baby. I’m so sorry I could never--”

“Nope, no, do not apologize, don’t you ever apologize for something like that,” Peter snapped, looking up and pointing angrily at his Aunt. “Do not do that.”

May laughed and Peter wasn’t entirely sure if his point had really gotten through, but she ruffled his hair anyway and he decided not to push it. After a minute or so he felt ready to go out again and they met up with Tony in the living room.

He didn’t ask about what happened, just gave him a quick hug before excitedly pressing a gift into his hands, and Peter gave a laugh at the look of glee on Tony’s face. He somehow looked more excited for Peter to open it than Peter was to see it himself.

Peter spent almost the entire next hour opening all his presents, snacking on the cupcakes the whole time. He got several new lego sets, a couple that Tony said he bought for them to do together when he came over to the compound since he was pretty sure they were too big for the apartment. He also got quite a few science t-shirts, some of which he was almost certain Tony had designed himself as he had never seen them in his life. A couple of the presents were Funko Pop figurines since Peter had once mentioned he wanted to start up a collection, one of which was actually a little Spidey bobble-head dressed in his old suit made from a hoodie.

And just when he thought he’d finished all the presents, Tony fished a card out of his pocket, handing it to Peter a little more seriously than he had all the other gifts.

“What’s this?” Peter said.

“Just open it,” Tony said. Peter glanced at him, then carefully tore it open, taking out a white card with the Stark Industries logo on it. Odd birthday card, Peter thought. He opened it up and a folded up piece of paper fell out, revealing the words beneath which read:

“Welcome to the team.

Signed,

Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, Wanda Maximoff, The Vision, Thor Odinson, James Rhodes, and Tony Stark”

Peter stared for a moment before looking down at the paper that had fallen out. He picked it up and unfolded it.

It was a job application. To be an Avenger.

“Now I know you said you wanted to keep being a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, but I promise, nothing’s gonna change when you fill this out,” Tony said, seeming to misunderstand Peter’s stunned silence. “You won’t have to live in the compound or anything, I just thought since I pay the other Avengers I should pay you too, but of course we need all the paperwork and stuff in order to do that so--”

“You’re giving me a job?” Peter said, finally finding his voice. “I’m… I’m an Avenger now?” Tony’s smile softened.

“Yeah kiddo. Like we said, welcome to the team.”

Peter practically flew towards Tony, who stood up just in time to receive him, both of them hugging each other tightly.

“Thank you, thank you so much, thank you thank you thank you--”

“Haha, it’s no problem kid really,” Tony assured him. But that didn’t do much to ease the deeply grateful ache that had settled in Peter’s chest.

Even through the rest of the day building one of his new lego sets, watching his favorite Star Wars movies, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. They were on their third movie when Peter excused himself to grab a snack, but realized as soon as he stood up that he wasn’t actually in the mood for one.

He instead made his way quietly up the stairs to his room, where he shut the door and opened his window, climbing onto the fire escape. The sun was beginning to set now, and while the buildings in front of him blocked any view, the sky still looked beautiful and cast a hazy red glow everywhere.

Peter slipped the job application out of his pocket, staring at it. He didn’t even need to open it to feel the relief and elation in his chest swell, to the point where his lungs and throat started to feel tight and his eyes stung. Peter leaned his elbows on the guardrail, staring at the paper in his hands before it became too much and he ducked his head, sobs wracking his body.

He cried for a moment before suddenly he was laughing, laughing at the fact that he was literally crying out of joy, and how he couldn’t remember if he’d ever done that before.

Feels weird to cry with a smile, Peter thought. But the weight of his emotions was making his legs feel like jelly again, so he turned and sat down with his back against the guardrail, elbows resting on his knees instead.

That’s what Peter looked like when Tony opened the door.

“Peter?”

Peter snapped his head up, staring at Tony in surprise.

“Oh, hi Tony,” he said. “Your turn to check on me this time?”

“You bet,” he said. He quickly came over and crawled through the window, but his expression quickly changed to one of deep concern as he got a better look at Peter’s face. “Oh kid, what wrong? Are you okay?”

Peter let out what seemed to be halfway between a laugh and a sob as Tony sat down next to him.

“Nothing’s wrong. Happy tears,” he said, leaning his head on Tony’s shoulder.

“Ah, I see. Happy tears about what?” Tony asked. Peter held up the job application. “Seriously? Kid, that really isn’t a big deal, it wasn’t out of my way at all--”

“I know it’s not a big deal to you, but it is to me. Heh, you’ve given me a lot more with this than you think you have,” Peter said.

“Okay… um, care to explain that?” Tony said with a slightly nervous chuckle. Peter laughed and thought for a moment.

“Aunt May and I uh… we’re not billionaires. Kinda poor actually. Not as bad as some people have it, we’ve always had what we needed. But um… we’ve never really had more than that. I’m at Midtown on a scholarship, and there’s next to no poor kids like me at that school. And honestly that’s not something that stayed a secret for very long. The wrong kid finds out you need free lunches and can’t afford to go to most of the field trips, you’ve got assholes calling you ‘trailer trash’ for the next four years even though you don’t even live in a trailer,” Peter said, gazing down at his toes.

“Jeez kid, I’m sorry, that’s awful,” Tony said.

“Heh, that’s not what I care about though. I don’t really care what they call me. It’s just that… when you’re poor, you miss out on a lot of stuff. I can’t go to most of the field trips they have at school cuz most of the financial aid requires me to sell things to people and who the hell has time for that? I’m in highschool and I’ve got AcaDeca and Spider-Manning to do, I don’t have time to raise money to go to a science exhibit, no matter how much I want to. And there’s so many times where I’ve said no to going to the movies or an amusement park because I was too embarrassed I couldn’t afford my own ticket.

“My point is, with this job, I can do all that now. I can go on the field trips, I can go to the movies and the parks, I can get Aunt May something other than a card and a cheap necklace for her birthday, maybe we could even take a trip over the summer now, and I just--” Peter cut off, wiping tears off his face as he gathered his thoughts. Tony reached back and started rubbing Peter’s back, giving him all the time he needed.

“You’ve given me so much today, legos, cool shirts, Funko Pops… but this? This feels like you just gave me the whole entire world.”

Tony didn’t say anything for a moment, just nodding and continuing to rub Peter’s back.

“So… is that part of why you ran away a little earlier? Right before we opened your presents?”

“Yeah. I’m uh, used to getting more like two or three, one each from Aunt May, Ned, and MJ. And when I saw how much you spent on me I just… I panicked. I’m sorry about that, I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful.”

“Heh, don’t worry, your face when you opened that five foot tall Disney Castle lego set definitely assured me you were quite beyond grateful kiddo,” Tony said. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s alright, it’s not like you did it on purpose. You didn’t know the reaction I’d have. That’s just how you show people you care about them. I just gotta get used to it,” Peter said with a laugh. Tony chuckled along.

They sat in silence for a moment, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun before Peter suggested they go back inside and finish the movie with his Aunt.

The last thing Peter thought before going to bed was Best. Birthday. Ever.

#irondad #irondad fanfiction #peter parker #tony stark #marvel #iron man #spider-man #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #spider-man fanfiction #fanfic #mcu fanfiction #MCU #happy birthday peter parker #peter parker's birthday #Happy Birthday Peter Parker!#Marko's Fanfiction

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elisaphoenix13 · 4 years ago

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Mama Bear Drabble 48

Drabble prompt: "I couldn't let you leave without telling you that you are important to me."

By: @funkylittlebidiot (posted with permission).

Laughter rang loudly throughout the living room, cut off by yells and curses as Peter once again beat Thomas at Mario Kart. Cassie and Harley sat on the couch, yelling encouragements or distracting the players. William sat back as he watched it all in fond amusement.

Though the scene warmed him and he could still barely believe that he was experiencing it - that he was part of it - he felt like his battery had been depleted.

He needed some peace and quiet; time to think about everything that had happened over the last two weeks.

From living on the streets to having a warm bed to sleep in, a group of people to stand by and support him, and friends who liked spending time with him,… it was quite the change.

William still felt like it could slip through his fingertips at any moment. He wanted to enjoy it while he could, but he didn’t trust himself not to get attached. He always did, and fate had never before been on their side.

Even though he hated to admit it, he usually got attached before they’d even arrive at the new foster home. He’d always been too much of a dreamer, couldn’t stop his heart’s excitement at the possibility that this next family would be it, would be theirs. No matter how many times he had been wrong, he couldn’t stop hoping.

He got up out of his seat, quietly as to not alert anyone of his movements as he went in search of a quiet corner.

He was good at that; finding holes to hide away in. It was the first thing he did when arriving at a new foster home or school.

The tower was huge, however, and he hadn’t felt the need to, here. He’d found ten promising nooks on his way from the elevator to his room when he’d first arrived, so he figured he could find a place if he needed one.

Besides, it was the first place where they'd had their own rooms.

His first plan was to just head into the kitchen, but when he passed the open door to Tony’s study, he noticed something of interest in the corner.

Glancing around nervously, he took a step inside and was reminded of what Stephen had told him when he’d arrived, about having questions.

“FRIDAY, am I allowed to be in here?”

“Of course,” the voice confirmed from the ceiling. William wasn’t sure he’d ever be used to that. “There are no restricted areas in the tower, except for some parts of the lab and Stark Industry floors.”

“Thank you,” he responded, walking over the chessboard that had caught his attention.

He’d always been intrigued by chess. It had always seemed like this whimsical thing wealthy people just had standing around; the older, prettier, and less used, the better.

Though he’d always eyed the chess tables in the park or library with longing, he’d never had an opportunity to learn.

He took a seat, enjoying how the little nook was quiet despite the yelling still emanating from the living room, and how its spot against the glass allowed him a gorgeous view of the city below.

“FRIDAY?”

“Yes, William?”

“Can you play chess?”

“I could tell you which pieces to move in my stead, yes.”

“Would you teach me?”

The next hour was spend playing chess against the AI. Once he’d learned each piece’s movements and the aim of the game, it seemed so simple. Still, he never came close to beating FRIDAY. He didn’t mind, though, just enjoyed the game and how it was engaging his mind.

“Bishop to G4.” William leaned over to move FRIDAY’s piece, thinking over the board critically before making his own move.

“You left your queen vulnerable, William. Knight to E3; check.”

“Damn,” William muttered under his breath, before moving his tower to protect his queen. “Any advice on what I should have done instead?”

A soft knock on the doorframe startled William, freezing when he noticed Stephen in the doorway.

“May I interrupt?”

He nodded on autopilot, watching Stephen’s every move as he walked over and took a seat opposite him. “So this is where you’ve been hiding?”

William couldn't be sure if he was imagining the hint of amusement in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he started, eyes wide, “I asked FRIDAY if I was allowed to be in here and -“

“Of course you are,” Stephen tutted, sending William a reassuring smile. “The other kids just don’t usually come in here. They wouldn’t find anything interesting.”

William didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t bother. He had learned it was best to stay quiet; to just follow the adult’s lead.

“Would you mind if I cut in, FRIDAY?”

“Of course not, Doctor Strange.”

Stephen eyed the board critically, before moving a piece and glancing back up at William. “So, how have you been settling in?”

William kept his gaze on the board, using it as an excuse to hide the warmth spreading up his neck. He tried to think of what piece to move, but he was too nervous to focus.

“F-Fine. Vision and Wanda are very kind for sharing their floor with us.” He felt better after the words had left his mouth, able to breathe more easily now he didn’t have to worry about giving a response. He thought for another second before making his move.

“They’re happy to share,” Stephen smiled as he made his own move.

“They want to take us out for furniture and stuff…,” William blurted out, something that had been on his mind. They’d been trying to postpone it as much as possible, but they were getting more and more persistent. Sitting here in the quiet of their chess game, he, for some reason, felt compelled to bring it up. It felt like a safe space; as if they had nothing better to do than discuss what was bothering him. “Though it’s not like we have any money.”

“Of course you do,” Stephen said matter-of-factly, not even looking up from the board as he studied his next move. “What’s ours is yours.”

“That’s-“

“William, you’re part of our family.” William’s heart stopped when Stephen looked up and met his eyes in a stern gaze. They were a clear blue and fierce, removing any room for debate. “First thing every new kid learns is that we have more than we could ever spend - if some of it goes to making you happy, it’s a worthy cause.”

William didn’t know what to say. He found refuge in the game, looking away from Stephen’s eyes to focus on the board again.

“You haven’t told me how you’re feeling,” Stephen noticed as he was quick to move a piece as if he’d anticipated William’s move. “‘Fine’ isn't the full extent of your feelings, I’m sure. It must be a lot to take in.”

“Not really.” William shrugged, surprising himself by how easily he had said the words. “I mean, we’re used to moving around a lot and living with strangers… it’s just that this place is obviously a lot nicer than we’re used to.”

He made his move, waving off his words. “I don’t want to get accustomed.”

William looked up in time to catch Stephen frowning at him and cursed internally at having said the wrong thing. He'd been getting too comfortable again. It was hard not to when his intuition didn't pick up any red flags from Stephen - which was rare when it came to adults. He quickly ducked his head, trying to hide his blush.

“You’re not going anywhere, William.” Stephen’s voice was firm and determined, convincing William to glance back up at him. “You or your brother.”

The yelling from the living room, which had been a hum in the background, grew louder. William pretended to get distracted by it as he couldn't come up with a response.

Stephen sighed as he followed his gaze, glaring in the direction of the living room. There was a loud thudding sound before someone yelled an affronted “MOM!”.

William hesitantly glanced towards Stephen. He wasn’t expecting him to get angry - he had seen enough in his two weeks here that he knew Stephen wasn’t the type. He knew normal parents don’t usually get upset about some noise, but he hadn’t expected him to roll his eyes with so much fondness either. It seemed too out of place.

“It was nice sitting in the quiet with you, William,” Stephen turned back to him with a smile, though he did seem genuinely regretful to leave, “but I’m afraid duty calls.”

William nodded, turning back to look at how they’d left the board. He wanted to finish the game with FRIDAY, and leave Stephen to resolve whatever was going on, before joining the rest again.

“One thing,” Stephen said, causing William to look up at him again with a questioning expression. “I can’t leave without telling you that you are important to me. You and Thomas.”

William swallowed against the lump in his throat, not sure how to react, but Stephen wasn’t yet finished. He took a step closer to him, placing a comforting hand on William’s shoulder. He looked up to meet his eyes, finding Stephen watching him with a soft smile.

“I know that might seem hard to believe after only two weeks, but we get attached quickly.” He grinned, lightly squeezing William’s shoulder before stepping away. “Like it or not; you’re stuck with us.”

#supremefamily #mama bear stephen strange #mama bear au #william kaplan #drabble #stephen strange

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cornholio4 · 4 years ago

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A Different Sort of Field Trip Fic

@cap-is-bi

This was based on a prompt on Tumblr by a user called Cap-Is-Bi and I hope they appreciate this.

It had been about a year since he had all silently cut ties with Tony Stark, he had been excited about getting the new suit and telling his classmates that he had an internship with Tony Stark. Most especially Flash Thompson didn't believe him.

However it all changed within a few weeks when he decided to look into more about the Sokovia Accords, he heard them mentioned on the news and how they were affecting the Avengers somehow. He read more into it and was stunned by what he had read. The Avengers would only be allowed to be deployed and allowed to help in a situation if an UN Accords panel deems it necessary, he could understand the principle of the idea but what if the Panel were too busy debating when the Avengers were urgently needed?

The articles said it was in response to not only Ultron but also the Battle of New York and Washington, were the governments really blaming the Avengers for stopping aliens and fascist terrorists? They talked about Iron Man was leading the support of the Avengers but Captain America went renegade on the Accords after a battle where Iron Man helped lead a squad to apprehend Cap's supporters in a german airport but the failure led to the capture of the culprit behind the bombing at the Accords signing.

Tony jsut said that Cap was going crazy; did he lie to him to take him to another country to apprehend people for just being Heroes?

The article talked about how the Accords affected Superhumans and how they would have to be tracked and registered, any Superhuman causing crimes would be sent to the prison known as the Raft indefinitely. Was Tony going to make him sign and follow orders like a good soldier?

This caused a huge broken pedestal towards Tony and he was still going over it when he felt into a portal. He was shocked to encounter many different Spider people from different Earths so it seemed that the Multiverse was real! Apparently these multi dimension vampires were hunting people with Spider powers so they were banding together to stop them. Most of them were Peter Parkers as well!

He met up with versions of him who looked like his Uncle Ben and the guy from Seabiscuit and a guy looking like his late dad as well as the guy from the Social Network. They were a trio and they could see he was down about something. He explained about the Accords and Tony and others patched in saying the Tony Starks of their world done the same thing; support any Superhuman laws while turning into a near villain himself. They promoted arrests without trials and laws as well as harsh conditions while also hiring super villains to catch them. More often than not the Registration Acts were defeated and Tony suffered. Some worlds reached a compromise but a lot of them had Tony manipulating Peter to support him at first.

Peter was in shock and horror and his rage towards Tony grew, it intensified when a glitch in his suit caused from a fight activated the Instant Kill Mode of the suit. Did Tony really put that into his suit.

He was in fury as when it got too damaged, he began tearing into it but the Peter Parker who looked like his dad said he could have a spare suit of his. After the Inheritors were defeated, they went back to their Earths with Peter wanting to have another adventure like that again.

But for now he would stay close to the ground.

In his new suit he began helping people as he usually did and was happy to address people with cameras. he told his class and Aunt May that he quit the internship due to his fury about something Tony did. They didn't pry too much, Flash still thought it was an excuse but he didn't care and Aunt May was disappointed but knew Peter had to have his reasons.

Peter was more than happy to find, share and like Anti Accords posts and articles. He had began ghosting both Happy Hogan and Tony (mostly Happy though) before blocking their numbers entirely. He focused on his schoolwork, hanging with his friends and being a true friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. He found the alien weapons dealing gang and their leader the guy in the Vulture suit. He managed to stop them but it turned out that he was Liz Allan's dad. She had to move with her mum and he was sad and a bit guilty about her having to go.

They had an amicable last conversation with Liz telling him that she hopes to see him again sometime and she was hoping that he would be her date for the homecoming dance. Poor Liz and her family...

He had to keep moving forward and deal with more stuff he finds. Whenever he saw criminals part of the anti Superhuman terrorist group the Watchdogs, he was more than happy to go at them and destroy their masks. There were footage of him trashing anti Superhuman bigots like the Watchdogs and when there were people with cameras, he was more than happy to give anti Accords words when asked.

He actually met up with Steve Rogers who was in hiding and he was more than happy to share his stories with Peter when he could contact him with the secret number he gave. 'Queens' and 'Brooklyn' as they gave their nicknamed themselves.

At this time support for the Accords were going down thanks to reports of the heroics of Captain America and his team underground, it was theorised they cease to be soon. Especially since Thaddeus Ross the biggest supporter of the Accords in the US Government, got himself suspended from the Accords Panel (which he acted like he ran) and from his position as Secretary of the State. He was expecting to face charges for the dozen squad he sent into countries without asking to try and apprehend Cap and he gotten into big fights with the Secretary of Defense. Ross kept going to his old military allies for help and was acting like he was in charge, the Secretary of Defense kept overruling him and telling that he is supposed to be their representative to the UN and other countries and not running military operations.

Inside anonymous sources he found said that Ross was trying to save face and stop the fall of the Accords but it seemed he burned many bridges with his arrogance.

However at Midtown he was dreading for a while, his class' field trip to Stark Industries. He didn't want to go but Aunt May convinced him to go by saying he could still appreciate the science there and what were the odds that Tony Stark would want to go out of his way to meet a former intern of his.

Peter stayed silent about it but figured that Tony may have forgotten about him, he hopes so and if not then he would probably be too busy as well.

There came the day and his class were on the tour and given their access cards, they got in and Peter was starting to enjoy himself seeing the work of the Stark Industries scientists. There were comments from Flash about Peter used to be an intern here and asking he got fired but he ignored them. When they were allowed to look around a display room Peter then saw through a door Happy Hogan who recognised him and did not look happy.

Peter groaned as Happy walked up to him and whispered "there you are, Tony found out that you would be with your class coming here and asked me to escort you to see him. Do you have any idea of how much trouble you caused? I spent so much time trying to contact you when Tony had been asking me about the reports you sent in and I had to tell him that you hadn't sent anything in a while. You kept ignoring our class and blocked us, Tony was beside himself when he saw that he could no longer track the suit he gave you and to see you in the new suit..." Happy was sternly telling him.

Peter was growing mad when learning that Tony was tracking him using the suit, "If Mr Stark wants to see me then he can come and see me himself. I thought you would have been glad to not have me bother you anymore." Peter whispered to him more harshly than he was intending.

He walked off to continue looking at the displays to Happy's shock as he made a call.

Later the class were stunned and excited to see Tony Stark there but Peter just groaned. "Long time no see Mr Parker, you had been ignoring my class ever since you just quit one day without warning. You think we could have a little talk to renegotiate whatever made you quit?" Tony said to Peter coming up with a big smile and Peter just groaned, the class being stunned by this but Peter just glared.

"Can we make it quick please." Peter said flippantly leaving them stunned as they went out the door. Peter looked up to Tony with a glare as he tried to smile at him.

"Can I first start by saying how are you doing as you caused quite a scare with you ignoring our calls. Plus what happened to the multimillion dollar suit that I gave you? Or where did you get your new digs?" Tony asked trying to look friendly.

"The suit got trashed fighting vampires from another world and another version of me gave me the new suit." Peter replied blandly and Tony gave a face showing that he did not buy the story one bit.

"Okay Mr Smartass can I say about learning how socially active you have been online, apparently you were more than happy to join the Anti Accords groups on social media as well as go after groups such as the Watchdogs. Apparently my advice on staying close to the ground didn't stick." Tony said disapprovingly and Peter scoffed.

"I am sorry that I don't support regulations that blames the Avengers for aliens invading or if there are terrorists about to commit mass murder. Sorry that I don't support regulations that thinks Superhumans should be tracked and thrown away without a key or any hope of seeing a lawyer if they seem like they step out of line. Sorry that I want to stop bad guys who claim they are protecting the country from Superhumans while causing damage and more than happy to invite criminals and former HYDRA thugs." Peter told him bluntly and Tony sighed.

"Peter these issues are more complicated than that and you are too young and immature to be involved in it. I had to work hard to protect you from the Accords people wanting to go after you and wanting you registered and tracked as well..." Tony told him and Peter snapped.

"So I am an exception, I get to be an exception so I can continue being your loyal soldier? Apparently you wanted a soldier and not someone standing up for the little guy. I am glad the Accords are going the way of the dinosaurs and that you can't have me tracked with a suit that you built an instant kill mode into." Peter snapped at him and Tony paused.

"We will have to talk about restarting the 'internship'." Tony said with air quotes but Peter shook his head and scoffed at it. "I am serious, you will have to start playing ball again or else I will tell your Aunt May..." Tony said only to be interrupted.

"I have been meaning to tell her myself but you tell her then I will tell her that the trip you brought me on was jsut so that you could use my as a soldier in a fight I should not have been involved in. That you lied to her and kidnapped me so I could be your weapon to capture Captain America for you, that you had me fighting on the wrong side of a war." Peter replied as he went back through the door.

"Son, come back here right now! You don't get to walk away from this!" Tony shouted shocking the class and Tony blinked, obviously forgotten about the class there in his anger.

"Sorry I don't want to hear anymore of you reprimanding me for speaking out against the Accords online. Telling me off for thinking that people shouldn't be locked up human rights forgotten just for having powers! That you were bullying me for sticking to my morals." Peter shouted faking tears in his eyes, he didn't want Tony to try and spin doctor this on the spot.

Tony sputtered and notices the looks that his class was giving him, Peter was being comforted by Roger Harrington who glared at Tony while saying "Mr Stark, I don't want you to be harassing my student for the rest of the trip. Be rest assured I will be calling his Aunt May about this."

Tony left wondering about what to do about this and Peter knew he would be getting questions from his classmates but he had a victory against Tony and if he tried to go after him as Iron Man, then well he has some special friends...

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years ago

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And the Land is Dark

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker) Rating: Mature (M) Notes: This is my fic for @twokinkybeans‘s Jar of Dirt challenge. The kink was outdoor sex - so we got camping and nakedness! Warnings: outdoor sex, NSFW stuff, & the inevitable softness that comes with my work. Summary:

Tony and Peter alternate picking vacation destinations for the summer & it’s Peter’s turn. When he brought up camping, Tony had his reservations. It turns out that fresh air and Peter Parker are the perfect combination.

Read it on AO3 here

The most important thing for Tony in his relationship with Peter, was equality.

When they first met on MIT’s campus, Tony had no idea that Peter worked in his R&D department – it’d been a long time since he graced the actual Stark Industries building and couldn’t have possibly known the well-rounded, extremely attractive man worked FOR him.

They were in one of the alumni buildings, gathered with the last 30 years’ worth of MIT graduates celebrating something or another. The conversation didn’t veer close to anything professional – everyone knew what Tony did; breaching the topic only led to shop talk that he didn’t want to stomach more than absolutely necessary.

Finding out that Peter got his checks from his company didn’t change anything between them – it simply made Tony much more conscious of the power imbalance that could easily be made into an issue (and not necessarily from Peter himself). The age gap between them didn’t make him bat an eye, Tony preferred the men he dated to be somewhat younger. For both of their sakes, Tony made Peter’s desires to be independent his first priority.

That included, much to his dismay, vacation picking duties. Over the past 3 years they’d been together, Tony and Peter alternated who picked the destinations for the entirety of the summer. It was one of the only times of the year Tony didn’t have many obligations – he could carelessly spend it with Peter without feeling an ounce of guilt. He simply wished this was his year to pick.

Peter brought up the idea of taking a camping trip to start off their extended vacation around March. He showed Tony pictures of the Great Smoky Mountains for a few weeks before he finally told Peter he was game and would love camping in a secluded site on the banks of one of the streams running through the trail. Tony loved to camp and did a ton of it after he graduated from college and tried to sow his wild oats.

It quickly became apparent that Peter had never gone, however. Peter walked into REI with a determined grin that immediately turned panicked. His eyes got comically wide – Tony picking up on the overwhelmed feeling almost instantly. “It’s alright, Pete. We’ll start with the simple stuff and go from there. I’ve got your back,” Tony said softly, his arm wrapping around wide shoulders that were pinched together tightly. “Sleeping bags first.”

The rest of the adventure around the outdoor store was filled with Tony giving Peter a rundown on all of the different equipment while they picked it out. They settled for two huge sleeping bags, a 6-person tent, some campfire cooking utensils and a stove, and the little trinkets that Tony convinced them both they needed (because who didn’t need a waterproof match container?) Footing the bill didn’t feel bad at all, the smile on Peter’s face was more than worth it.

To really enjoy the camping experience, Peter convinced him that driving would be the best way to get to their mountain excursion – so, he talked Happy into letting him drive the man’s SUV in exchange for a couple extra weeks of vacation for him and Pepper. It was the easiest deal he ever made – but, Happy didn’t need to know that. They packed and repacked the car way more times than necessary before Peter deemed them ready to set out on the 12-hour drive.

Tony took the first driving shift; they set off around 3 in the morning to make the most out of the empty roads and lack of traffic. The espresso Peter made him before they left kept him wired for 5 hours straight – they watched the sun come up and sang to the playlist Peter put together when their StarkPhones actually got reception.

Peter took over after the second bathroom stop – Tony filled up the car and their coffee cups before they set out again. This time, the music stayed off; Tony put on his reading glasses and pulled out Fire & Blood, the book he’d been reading to Peter every night before they passed out for the last couple of weeks. It seemed juvenile, but it was soothing for them both. The story was compelling and got them through another big chunk of the drive.

Their next pit stop took a while. The closer they got to the mountains and the park they were staying in, the narrower the selection on food stops and grocery stores became. Tony caught Peter eyeing the McDonald’s they passed when they took the exit, which just so happened to be located right across the way from a local supermarket. The big coolers they got during their shopping adventure were empty and waiting to be filled with junk food meant to sustain 2 grown men for three days.

The sheer amount of packaged chips and cookies Tony watched Peter put into the cart made him laugh, his boyfriend at 26 still ate like a 10-year-old. The idea of letting go of the reins of his diet for the next few days quickly became a reality with every new and intriguing sweet Peter claimed tasted amazing. The plan was to hike around and enjoy the surroundings, anyway – that would require extra sustenance.

Getting the supplies situated and binging on McDonald’s took them another hour, both of them more than satisfied when they got back on the road to finish off the drive and finally get to their destination. As Tony drove, he talked about some of his own camping trips – the two of them laughing when he described the poison ivy he’d accidentally wiped his ass with. The view got better the closer they got and by the time they were pulling in to claim their camping spot, the sky was lit with a gorgeous sun surrounded by the most beautiful clouds.

A look of wonder passed across Peter’s face the further into the park they got. For the first time since Peter planned the trip, Tony realized that this was probably Peter’s first time ever seeing anything like this. Queens didn’t have a good view of the sky most of the time, let alone beautiful mountain passes and cotton-ball clouds. Reaching across the center console, Tony gripped Peter’s hand tightly. They shared a smile before Peter turned his attention back to the view out the window.

As far as first days went, Tony didn’t have anything to complain about. Watching Peter attempt to put the tent up before realizing that a single pull would do it provided entertainment Tony didn’t count on. The rosiness of Peter’s cheeks when he caught Tony looking at him making it even better. “You knew how easy that was, didn’t you?” Peter questioned, affection and annoyance battling for dominance on his face.

“I sure did. I thought it would be better to let you figure it out. How are you going to learn if I do everything for you?” Tony looked at him pointedly, the man more than familiar with the fact that Peter put learning and knowledge above all else. The eye roll he got was totally fair, and all the more adorable because of it.

They unpacked the campfire stove and all the accessories for it and put them into the tent – Tony could tell that Peter was already ready to start exploring. After getting changed, the pair set out for a long hike – they caught the sunset standing on a flat summit of the mountain closest to them. The best part of it all was the look of awe still clearly etched on Peter’s face – there were colors reflecting in his eyes that didn’t even exist in the confines of New York’s city limits.

Hand-in-hand, Tony used the last dredges of light to get them back to their campsite. Peter held the lantern for him while he started a fire when they got back – the idea of having warm food one they both were looking forward to becoming an actuality. He talked through the entire process as he did it – Peter listened carefully; his eyes wide as he watched every one of Tony’s movements carefully. When they eventually got the hot dogs on the skewers, Tony was exhausted and lulled into a relaxed state by the sound of Peter’s voice and the open quiet surrounding them.

Sleep came easy, Tony passed out on his back with Peter curled up against his side, and when they woke up the next morning, neither seemed to have moved at all throughout the night. Peter kissed him fully awake and promised a naked dip in the water after getting food in his belly. Tony worked his culinary magic and put together a pretty decent bacon and egg combination.

The rest of the day was spent walking along the water ways that connected to each other throughout the trail. Peter looked insanely adorable splashing through some of the deeper water. A couple of times, the waded into a stream that was not meant for humans to be in and Tony had to drag himself and the koala bear clinging to him out of the faster currents. It was one of the best days Tony could remember having in a while – sunburn and blisters on his feet included.

----

The next two days followed the same pattern – Peter picked out a spot he wanted to go explore and they spent all day doing so. Tony kept them fed and alive when Peter slipped and dislocated a finger – it seemed like a life or death situation in the moment, at least. It was a blast, soaking in the sun and simply enjoying being together. Their nights were spent curled up around the fire, both too exhausted to do much more than talk about the day’s adventure and exchange lazy kisses.

As the end of the trip creeped up on them, Peter finally let them be lazy. They drank beer and floated in the small stream in front of their campsite. Getting drunk before 1 in the afternoon was an absolute treat and led to the most exquisite nap under the tree they tied their hammock to. The past few days of excitement compounded and created a wave of fatigue that brought them under until the edges of the day were creeping in.

“Pete, wake up, baby. Let’s have some dinner and enjoy the stars one more time,” Tony mumbled sleepily, his eyes blinking awake only moments before. The sky was starting to turn that hazy pink and orange color – if they moved quick enough, they could eat their dinner under a crimson sky waiting eagerly to give way to clarity and brightness.

It took a few minutes for Peter to come around, Tony spending all of them peppering Peter’s skin with soft kisses and caressing the parts of him he could reach in their tangled-up position in the hammock. The sleep-lines on Peter’s face pulled a chuckle from Tony’s chest, his fingers tracing over them without hesitation. “Sleepy Pete is one of my favorites.” Giving him a quick kiss on the lips, Tony did his best not to kick Peter in the face as he climbed out of the ENO.

Hamburgers and beans by the fire as the sun set couldn’t be beat – Peter woke up with a ton of energy and obliterated all the food Tony put in front of him, a wide smile on his face while he did it. Completely satisfied, Tony relaxed into the chair that’d been his main source of back support for the past few days. Peter’s wandering hands landed in his lap a few minutes later, a familiar heat in his eyes.

“Want to sleep under the stars tonight?” Peter asked, his voice low, the timber of it an invitation for more than just sleeping under the night sky.

Without hesitation, Tony nodded his head, his fingers running down the length of Peter’s arm. “Sounds romantic,” he mumbled in response, the two of them sharing a soft laugh at the sarcasm that Tony couldn’t always help. Leaning over the arm of his chair, Tony invaded Peter’s space, his lips pressing against his boyfriend’s cheek. “The big sleeping bag right by the fire is probably our best bet.”

There wasn’t any rush in their movements. Peter climbed out of his chair a few minutes later and went about getting their trash into the big bag they’d been putting everything in. He would not so casually meet Tony’s eye overtop the fire, his smile getting sultrier as the seconds passed.

When Peter dragged the sleeping bag out and unzipped it, Tony couldn’t handle the waiting around anymore. He got up from his chair and took the handful of steps that separated him from the gorgeous man he got to call his own. Kicking off the moccasins he wore around their campsite, Tony grabbed Peter’s hand, pulling him down to the ground with him. Peter’s wide eyes had him laughing seconds before he pressed forward and captured slightly chapped lips in a warm kiss.

Despite it being June, the nights were a little chilly – so Tony took great care when stripping Peter down to nothing. Shoes came off first, then the first layer of shirts covering the naked skin of Peter’s chest. Tony took off a piece of his own clothing when something of Peter’s hit the ground. When they were shirtless and busy kissing each other breathless, Tony covered Peter with his upper body, the warmth between them more than enough to keep a chill at bay.

Tony took his time taking off Peter’s pants. His lips lingered on a delectably long neck; the skin still red from their time in the sun. Tracing his name with his tongue, Tony marked a path down, down, down until he was settling between the v of Peter’s legs. His fingers worked the button open, Tony blowing a warm gust of air against the front of bright blue boxer-briefs as the zipper of tight jeans came down. The bulge pressing up against the tight fabric pulsed, Peter obviously very interested in what was about to happen.

Bypassing the area Peter wanted him to touch the most, Tony continued his journey to get Peter completely naked. Slim hips came up off the ground when he started to peel the jeans down Peter’s legs, the boxer briefs coming down with them. Tony ran just the tips of his fingers down the inside of spread thighs, the goosebumps pebbling across Peter’s skin a tangible reaction that never ceased to make Tony harder than a rock.

Too interested in Peter’s skin in the moonlight to worry about his own pants, Tony palmed Peter’s bare erection, the length pulsing into his touch. Groaning, he tightened his grip and started to slowly pump down to the base and back up again, his thumb swiping across the already leaking head. “You’re absolutely stunning like this,” Tony admitted, his eyes moving from the show his hand was making to Peter’s, the normal hazel a little darker, pupils completely overtaking most of the iris.

“You drive me crazy,” Peter moaned out, his bottom lip being pulled between his teeth as he tossed his head back.

Tony let his lips trail over the weepy head, his tongue poking out for a taste.

Fingers fisting into Tony’s hair had him taking more of Peter’s length in his mouth – his boyfriend groaning each time his lips tightened during the upstroke. Tony pressed the back of his head into Peter’s hand, the contact there spurring him on just as much as the cock sliding deeply into his throat. His own erection pressed messily against the seam of his pants, everything about Peter in that moment fanning the fire in his belly. Thrusting a hand down, Tony adjusted himself, a moan being choked out around the cock in his mouth.

Moving quickly, Tony got up onto his knees, his mouth still firmly working Peter’s cock over as he did. Shaky fingers got the button of his pants open, the immediate rush of relief pulling a groan from him again. Tony forced his eyes shut, his fingers pulling the zipper down and shoving his pants down just enough to free up his cock. Only then did he pull up and off Peter’s erection, his eyes finding the other’s while he shimmied the rest of the way out of the intrusive pieces of clothing.

Tony wrapped a hand around himself, a tight fist stroking up and down a few times just to relieve a bit of tension. “Fuck –“ he gasped out, Tony letting his chin drop to his chest. A huge gust of air left his mouth – it felt like physical pain, pulling his hand away from himself. Peter looked at him intensely, the tip of his pink tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip. Unable to resist, Tony leaned over him, pressing their lips together briefly.

He didn’t allow himself too much time to luxuriate in the feel of Peter’s tongue against his own, though. His boyfriend was thrusting up against him, the sticky wetness of his cock dragging along the skin of Tony’s stomach. Settling into the gap of Peter’s thighs again, Tony used both hands to push his thighs further apart, everything deliciously on display for him.

Fingers of his right hand wrapped around the base of Peter’s cock, while Tony used his left hand to pull Peter’s ass cheeks apart. He let his tongue graze along the already fluttering hole, the move pulling a shout from the man above him. “Fuck – keep doing that,” Peter muttered mindlessly, the words broken apart by gasps and moans. Tony didn’t need to be told twice.

Redoubling his efforts, Tony gripped Peter tightly and let the pace of his hand match the swipes and thrusts of his tongue. Peter’s hands pawed at him uselessly, the hitch of his hips and the frequency of his breathing telling him just how close he actually was. “Cum for me, Pete.” Tony forced his head up, his lips and chin glossy from his own spit and the messy way he went down on Peter with abandon. It took a singular nod from Tony before Peter was coming, thick pearls of cum coating Tony’s fingers and the supple skin of Peter’s abdomen.

Tony didn’t give him any time to recover, he simply ran his fingers through the warm cum and used two of them to press against Peter’s entrance. They slipped in without much resistance – his tongue and the orgasm did a decent job relaxing Peter and his usually wound up body. He set a fast pace, the second Peter let him in, Tony was thrusting and pulling back with efficiency – doing just enough to make sure there wouldn’t be any pain.

Face red and cock pulsing, Tony replaced two fingers with three, his arm tired from the ruthless way he was simply taking. Peter didn’t seem to mind, though – his cock was already starting to harden against his stomach, the pulse of it making him clench around Tony’s fingers.

“I’m ready, I’m ready. Fuck me, Tony,” Peter’s words cut through whatever rational braincells were left. Tony pulled his fingers out and spat in his hand, the leftover cum and spit the perfect lubricant for a coupling like this – wild and carefree. He didn’t let his hand linger as he spread the fluids over his length, the mere touch made him want to explode. Tony had just enough left in the tank to heft Peter’s legs around his hips as he lined the tip of his cock against Peter’s hole and pressed forward, bringing them together as one.

His hands pressed into the sleeping bag up by Peter’s head, his fingers just shy of being able to play with the hair that haloed out. Bringing his bottom lip between his teeth, Tony went through the periodical table in his head to give Peter a second to adjust and to stave off the orgasm that was quickly approaching.

Peter took his own erection in his hand and started to stroke, the darkness in his eye reflecting the moon above perfectly. Pale skin seemed to glow in the depth of the darkness surrounding them, the hand Tony watched becoming iridescent the longer he stared. The movement was a nice distraction, but not enough to stop his hips from swiveling and pulling back, the press inside the only thing he wanted in that moment. Tony let his head hang between his shoulders, the force of his thrusts easier now that he wasn’t trying to hold himself up as much.

The clench around him drove him towards the edge before Tony could stop it from happening. Dropping down to his elbows, Tony trapped Peter’s hand between them to stop the rhythmic jerking over smooth skin. Each tug caused Peter’s hole to clamp down around him and it was pulling Tony to the precipice a lot quicker than he wanted. “You’re going to make me cum. You feel so fucking good,” Tony babbled, his nose moving over Peter’s cheek with every back and forth thrust.

Hands grabbed his face, Peter tugging until Tony shifted his attention to him. He couldn’t stop the roll of his hips, so he didn’t try – staving off obviously wasn’t going to happen. Peter looked at him with his mouth wide open and pupils blown, the sight of it almost enough to pull him over, the tantalizing squeeze and tug of their physicality be damned. Their lips brushed and for a moment, they shared panted breaths.

“Flip me over,” Peter mumbled when Tony tore away from the kiss, his heart pounding from the anaerobic thrusts of his hips and the astounding lack of oxygen. Clenching his eyes shut, Tony nodded. A miracle stopped his hips and allowed him to pull out – the two of them fumbling around for a minute before Tony was on his back and Peter was settling over him, his tight hole already surrounding Tony’s cock.

“Shit – I’m not going to last much longer, baby.” Tony looked up helplessly, his fingers wrapping around Peter’s hips tightly. “I’m so close – “

Peter smirked down at him, his hand wrapping around his cock before he started a ruthless pace with his hips. The strain of his rise and fall could be seen so plainly in the clench of heavily muscled thighs and the ripple of abs that were so warm and tight – it was fucking beautiful.

Throwing his head back, Tony felt the heat in his stomach hit the boiling point, his orgasm sweeping over him like wildfire. He planted his feet and thrust his hips up, the throbbing tip of his cock pressing against Peter’s prostate – the move enough to pull him right over the edge with Tony. A satisfied moan left Tony’s lips at the feeling of Peter’s cum coating his skin.

The brightness of the stars made Peter glow – the post-orgasmic haze swirled around his limbs, making him look like one of the stars in the sky himself. Smiling widely, Tony let his hands trail over the pale skin, the moonlight not conceding under his fingertips, no matter where he touched. In that instant, he knew he’d never be able to look at Peter the same – the ethereal nature surrounding him right now would forever be engrained in the back of his mind; Peter was beautiful all the time, but this took it to a new level.

Not able to stand the distance between them any longer, Tony wrapped his arms around Peter’s middle and pulled him down. Their lips met, the kiss a steady reminder of the never-ending thrum of love and affection that pulsed between them. Three years later and they were still rocking each other’s worlds.

The coolness of the air broke them apart a while later, the cum cooling on Tony’s chest starting to get a little too sticky for his liking. Groping around, Tony found his t-shirt and wiped his and Peter’s chests. When Peter got up, the situation was beyond help. “We’re going to have to get in the water,” Tony said nodding towards the steadily running stream they’d been “bathing” in all week.

Chilly air drove them into the flow – the coolness was inescapable, though; Tony’s skin immediately lit up with goosebumps. He worked quickly to get himself clean, the water icy the longer he stood nude in the elements. Peter didn’t seem to be moving, so Tony splashed some water over at him, a laugh leaving his lips.

A wash of water hitting him wasn’t all that surprising, Peter was never one to back down from any sort of challenge laid down in front of him, especially where Tony was concerned. Shaking his head, Tony retaliated, the wave hitting Peter starting an all-out war. By the time they were panting for breath, neither man could remember what the cold seeping in felt like. Peter wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck, his wet and naked torso pressing in to share body heat

“This was fun,” Peter said, his expression open. “Really fun. I didn’t know being away from everything could be so – nice.”

Filling in the rest of the space, Tony let his arms wrap around Peter’s hips. He tilted his head and stole a quick kiss. “You just have to be open to appreciating it, Petey.” Tony brushed their noses together before pressing in for another kiss.

Later, wrapped up together in the sleeping bag, Tony pressed his face into the back of Peter’s neck. He snuggled into the warmth there and let out a soft sigh. “Where are we headed next, anyway?” Tony asked, his body completely relaxed.

Peter grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it, the spread of a smile evident on his lips still pressed against Tony’s skin. “How do you feel about white-water rafting?”

#starker #ironspider #twokinkybeans #bobbie writes #prompts #fic #and the land is dark #jarofdirtchallenge #jar of dirt challenge

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obligatorynasty · 5 years ago

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The Weight of the Knife, Part 3: Beveled

Part: [1] [2] [3] | Read on: AO3 | WC: ~11k | Please excuse any typos.

Main Tags: BadBoy!Tony, Highschool AU, NFF, Angst, TW:Mentions of Blood, TW:Abuse, TW:Graphic Depictions of Violence, TW:Bullying, TW:Underage Drinking and Smoking, Bruises, Hangovers and Mentions of Puke, [Read all tags on AO3]

Dedicated to @starker-stories, whose love for this AU kept me motivated to write more.

~*11*~

For the remainder of the day, Peter and Tony stayed in their room, save for the occasional bathroom break or a food delivery courtesy of Ned. They chose to relax together, underneath the covers, in each others’ arms, far away from everything and everyone, especially the aggravating presence of Quentin Beck. Peter wondered how he, once again, fell for a false earnesty and Tony lamented about being an absolute wreck over his father’s conniving behavior. It was almost therapeutic to realize that they were being toyed with; to realize that their fights had been exaggerated by outside forces; to finally see it had not all been their fault.

And after hours of emotional exhaustion, Tony had fallen asleep, snug against Peter’s stomach, arms wrapped around the younger’s torso. Peter, however, was wide awake. Despite his hangover, he was determined to fulfill his promise. He would protect Tony at all costs, even if it meant staying up into the night, fighting his headache, and sifting through the plethora of files in the Stark Industries database.

With Jarvis, Peter was able to compile some very damning evidence about the company, including its dealings with terrorism and the various transgressions of its CEO. He even had security cam footage from the Stark mansion. Some clips were so heartbreaking that he couldn't bring himself to watch them. Video after video of his most precious person being abused by someone who should care for him the most.

Peter sighed and placed the phone against the nightstand, running a hand through Tony’s hair as he did. His boyfriend was so innocent when he slept, his eyelashes gently twitching in dreams and his soft snores vibrating against Peter’s abdomen. It was almost a shame to have to wake him, but he needed him for what came next. “Tones,” Peter whispered, softly tapping his fingertip against Tony’s cheek. “Wake up.”

Tony stirred awake, yawning as he spoke, “Is it time?”

“Yeah.”

Before Tony’s nap, they had discussed what to do about Quentin. Tony’s anger did not go away. It was just sharper, more focused, not as unhinged as before. He wanted payback in the form of violence and, if Peter was honest with himself, he did too.

Quentin had played Peter for a fool. He tricked him into defending their fabricated friendship; tricked him into believing that friendship – that stupid, insignificant friendship – was somehow worth all of the arguments with Tony. Peter didn’t just want payback – no, he wanted some fucking retribution. He wanted Quentin Beck to regret what he had done.

And he wanted it to hurt.

So Peter shared his plan, in whispered breaths during their lazy day, convinced by the devious smirk it brought to Tony’s face, that it would please them both. And it started there: right outside of Quentin’s door.

“Beck?” Peter spoke as he knocked, his free hand restlessly clutching the handle of his suitcase. “Are you awake?”

The faint sound of footsteps approaching the door made Peter’s heart race but, surprisingly enough, especially to Peter, it wasn’t because of nerves. It was the adrenaline of knowing what was to come coursing through his veins. As the door swung open, he put on a terrified expression, attempting to sell his distress with wet eyes, a furrowed brow, and a frown. “Beck,” He let his voice tremble like he was on the verge of tears.

“What’s wrong, kid?” Quentin asked, moving to place a hand against Peter’s face, thumbing at the tear that escaped his lower lash. “Why do you have your bag? What’s going on?”

Peter clenched his teeth and leaned into Quentin’s touch, trying to be as persuasive as possible, “We need to leave.”

“Why-?”

“Tony hit me,” Peter lied, feigning his sorrow with a sniffle and a stressful hand through his hair. “You were right about him. I should’ve listened, I should’ve-”

“Shh,” Quentin pulled Peter into a hug. “It’s okay. We can leave. I’ll pack my stuff.”

“Okay, but be quick,” Peter urged, shaking as he prevented himself from flinching out of Quentin’s grasp. “Tony doesn’t know I’m leaving.” An extra lie, coated in a frantic tone that made Quentin pack in a hurry, carelessly throwing his belongings into his suitcase before zipping it up and grabbing his keys from atop the dresser.

“Okay, come on,” Quentin whispered, following Peter into the hall as he closed the door behind him.

That was easier than Peter thought it would be. And with one task complete, Peter moved onto the next: the keys. As they reached the top of the staircase, Peter made a show of how heavy his bag was; struggling with two hands as he slowly took the first step, and then an even slower second, and a third at a snail’s pace…

“Here, let’s trade,” Quentin offered, handing Peter his keys in exchange for the suitcase.

And as he clutched the keys, watching Quentin carrying both bags down the stairs, Peter couldn’t stop himself from smirking. The next part of his plan began once they made it outside and walked down the driveway, far enough away from the house that what followed wouldn’t be heard.

Quentin stopped at the curb, turning on his heel, “Hey, kid, unlock the car, would you?”

Peter shook his head, face expressionless as he stared into Quentin’s puzzled eyes. “No,” He said as he reached into his pocket, pulling out Tony’s butterfly knife and flipping it open. “I can’t do that, Quentin,” He added as he held the knife forward.

Quentin gave a slow, confused laugh, “What’s going on, kid?”

“You know exactly what’s going on,” Peter glared at him, his anger starting to seep out. “How much is Mr. Stark paying you, hm? Enough to buy a fancy new car?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Quentin immediately denied, a feeble attempt at maintaining his ruse.

Peter sighed, reaching into his pocket, switching the keys for his phone. “Quentin Beck, 18, works for Mysterio Incorporated as a professional grifter,” Peter snorted at the next line. “A prodigy in the art of the con. A bit of a stretch there, no?” He continued, “Official job assignment: sever all social, physical, and romantic connections between Peter Parker and Tony Stark.” He said, pointing the phone screen towards Quentin. “Still don’t know what I’m talking about?”

Quentin immediately dropped his gaze but then he laughed, slow and a bit dismayed, “I’ll give it to you, Parker, you’ve surprised me.” As he lifted his head, he seemed to relax in a different, less-friendly persona like a chameleon donning its natural color. “How’d you find out?”

“I heard you on the phone.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have taken that call,” Quentin shook his head, “You know, this was supposed to be an easy job,” He pointed out, “Break up a scared little kid and a violent asshole.” He kicked the suitcases onto their sides, “But, of course, you turn out to be just as crazy as he is,” He snapped, “You two are fucking perfect for each other!”

Peter was unfazed by Quentin’s anger – in fact, he was indifferent to it; there were no trembles or fear, not even a flinch. “That’s very nice of you,” He nodded and looked over his shoulder. “Don’t you think, Tones?”

“Yeah,” Tony spoke as he stepped out of his car, cigarette and lighter in hand, nonchalantly having a smoke as he leaned against the car’s hood. “We are perfect for each other, baby.”

“Fuck this shit,” Quentin rolled his eyes, holding his hand out. “Give me the car keys, Parker.”

“Come and get them,” Peter taunted and tightened his grip on the knife.

Quentin scoffed, taking a step closer to Peter, “And what the fuck are you going to do with that?” He shook his head and took another step. “What? Stab me?” Another step. “A scared little bitch like you would never .” Another step; inches away from the knife. “Now give me the goddamn keys!” Quentin yelled, lunging towards Peter to snatch the keys, but his efforts were fruitless.

Peter slid his foot back, angling his body so that the pocket with the keys faced away from the impending grasp. He inhaled fast, his hand reactively flinching, swiping the blade of the knife against Quentin’s outstretched arm. And as he pulled away, he exhaled and glanced down at the knife, its beveled edge now streaked in a thin layer of blood. Then his gaze flickered to Tony, who was puffing gray into the latenight air, watching the interaction without an ounce of worry. The sight kept Peter calm as his focus moved back to Quentin, who had recoiled backward with a hiss, clutching his arm.

“You stupid little- you cut me!” Quentin snapped, fists balling in anger. “I’m not fucking playing with you, Parker!” He dashed forward, so caught up in his rage that he paid no attention to his biggest threat. Not bothering to notice the cigarette that had been flicked against the pavement; not even glancing up to see how close in proximity the looming threat was. It was a grave mistake.

Tony wound back his fist and clocked Quentin so hard in the jaw that he stumbled backward, tripping against a crack in the pavement. His hands shot down against the warm concrete, palms scratching on the abrasive surface as he broke his fall. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and the cuts on his hands and arm, but there was no time to focus on the pain. He rolled over, quickly shifting to get back on feet, but the bad boy had descended, pinning him against the ground. He had no choice but to brace himself as a flurry of quick jabs were unleashed on his face, the force of which would no doubt break his nose if he did nothing. So he pushed, wrestling Tony onto his side, trying to flip them entirely and turn the tides of their fight, but Tony’s knee in his gut threw that plan into the water.

On impulse, Quentin clutched his stomach, letting out a pained grunt, watching as Tony stood and poised himself to kick the same place he had kneed. Acting quickly, Beck rolled, dodging the kick and finally managing to get back on his feet. Much like the fight against Loki, Quentin fought passively, fists squared to protect his face as he waited for Tony’s next move.

Tony laughed, brimming with a refined rage like he had dragged all that unhinged anger to an anvil and forged his next attacks. He was light on his feet, taking a boxer’s stance and closing in to throw a couple of jabs at Quentin’s openings. There were a few misses to the face, but a single hooked punch to the side had Quentin hunched over.

And from there, it might as well have been decided. Tony grabbed Quentin in a headlock, letting loose a whirlwind of punches to his side, reveling in the way Quentin collapsed to his knees in pain. It was when Tony grabbed Quentin’s arm and positioned himself to break it that Peter finally interjected.

“No bones, Tony,” Peter stepped towards them, placing a hand against Tony’s shoulder. “We are still kicking him out. He has to drive.”

“Didn’t you say that piece of shit car was self-driving?”

“I did, but-”

“A rib?” Tony asked, his eyes dilated from the adrenaline of the fight as he held Quentin in place.

Peter glanced down at the bruised boy, whose eyes were teeming with a spark of defiance, and he found himself wanting to watch that spark get extinguished. “That’s fine.”

What followed was a kick to Quentin’s ribs so forceful that he screamed and started to give in, gasping and wincing in pain, “Fuck you, Parker!”

“Tony,” Peter whispered. “Another.”

And Quentin couldn’t get a word in before the pain of having a rib broken blended with the pain of having an already broken rib kicked. “Okay!” He grunted out, fear glazed across the tone of his voice. “Okay, fucking stop! Stop!”

“Tones,” Peter said it like a command and Tony followed it by holding Quentin still in a kneeling position. Then, Peter stepped in front of Quentin, squatting down to match gazes, “Are you ready to apologize?”

“What the fuck?” Quentin growled, weakly struggling against Tony’s hold. “No! I was hired!”

“Tony, I didn’t hear an apology, did you?” Peter asked as he hovered the butterfly knife in front of Quentin’s throat. “Maybe he needs a little more. How many ribs do you think you can break before a person passes out from all the pain?”

Quentin’s eyes went wide. Even with a knife outstretched and poised at his throat, the words that fell from Peter’s mouth were somehow sharper and more perilous. “Fine!” He broke, voice cracking under the force of Peter’s threat. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry for what I did, okay? I’m sorry.”

“See?” Peter smiled, hovering the knife upward and pressing it gently against Quentin’s face. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

And Quentin let out a defeated laugh, “How are you even the same person I saved last week?”

“I’m not,” Peter stood, pulling the car keys from his pocket and throwing them into the sand. “Now fetch and don’t come back.”

~*12*~

“Did you get my email with the security cam footage?” Peter spoke into his phone, pacing back and forth in the sand. “Yeah, it’s really bad. Did you call the lawyer? Do you think he can do something with it?” He asked, stepping into the wet sand, enjoying the feeling of warm water splashing against his feet. “Thanks, May. Yes, now I’m having fun. Yeah, Tony too. Nope, there’s no alcohol. No, I’m not lying. My voice doesn’t have a tone. It doesn’t!” He laughed, turning on his heel, surprised to find Tony walking towards him with two drinks in hand. “Oh, May, I’ve got to go. Yeah, Tony’s here. Okay, okay, I’ll tell him. Bye!” Peter hung up the call, smiling as he took a cup from Tony. “May says hi and that she misses you.”

“Auntie called?” Tony’s eyebrow shot up. “Why didn’t you say so? I could’ve talked to her.”

“You can talk to her when we get back,” Peter waved it off, taking a quick sip of the fizzy mixed drink, face scrunching from the burn of vodka. “What did you put in this?”

“Nothing much, just vodka and soda.”

Peter groaned, looking at the drink like it could kill. “How much exactly?”

Tony smiled, looking Peter up and down, “Did you get sexier since the last time we spoke?”

“In the few minutes I was on the phone? Absolutely.” Peter playfully retorted, returning the smile. “But no avoiding my questions. How much vodka, Tones?”

“Not that much,” Tony laughed, taking a large swig of his drink. “Just don’t drink it too fast, okay?”

Peter gave a light huff, “What about you? Two more of those and your cup will be empty!”

Tony scoffed, “I’m not a lightweight like you.”

Without warning, a water balloon exploded against the back of Tony’s head, covering his back in cold water that had him cringing. Peter erupted into laughter, matching the energies of Rhodey, Pepper, Bruce, and Happy, who had pails of water balloons filled to the brim, fully prepared for war. “That’s what you get for talking shit,” Peter joked.

Tony grinned, turning towards his friends with a fire in his eyes. “Now I’ve got to show these fuckers who’s boss.” He took another large swig of his drink and pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “Hold this for me, baby. I’ll be right back.”

Peter grabbed the cup, watching with a smile as Tony ran towards his friends. Seeing him like this was refreshing, like the stress of the previous week never reared its ugly head. In fact, just relaxing with friends without Quentin around had proven cathartic for them both. Peter spent his morning swimming with Ned and MJ while Tony helped Rhodey and Pepper make breakfast. The adrenaline of last night’s events had simmered and the vacation part of their vacation had truly set in.

Peter carried the two drinks up to the deck, where Bucky, Sam, and Steve were chatting and lounging on chairs. As he took a seat, he laughed at the excited way MJ and Ned prepped their buckets, readying themselves to join the water balloon fray. “You two don’t stand a chance out there in the trenches,” He joked.

“You just watch,” Ned exclaimed, dramatically thrusting a balloon into the air, “I will emerge victorious!”

MJ laughed, shaking her head as she kicked off her sandals. “You should join us, Pete. We can emerge victorious together.”

“No, thanks,” Peter smiled, placing the cups on the ground and slumping against the back of the chair. “But I wish you luck on your conquest.”

“To victory!” Ned yelled, running down to the beach with a water balloon poised to kill.

“Suit yourself, dude.” MJ grinned as she followed, beaming a water balloon from the top of the stairs to one of the unsuspecting teens below.

“Your friends are wild, Pete,” Sam said with a soft laugh. “But they’re alright.”

“Agreed, I really liked them,” Bucky nodded. “I liked Quentin too. Did he ever say why he had to leave?”

Peter shrugged, leaning to grab his cup and take a sip, feigning ignorance. “All he said was he had a family emergency.”

“Shame he had to go,” Steve said with a playful grin. “With all that flirting he was doing, you could’ve been just like me.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, “Like you?”

“He means having two smoking hot boyfriends,” Sam explained, gesturing to himself and Bucky.

“Oh!” Peter shook his head, a small pink tint flushing his cheeks. “It wasn’t like that with Quentin. We were just friends.”

“Were?” Bucky squinted.

“Are! Are.” Peter gave an awkward chuckle and sipped his drink. “Anyways, me and Tony are fine with just each other.”

“Yeah, you guys seemed fine the other night too,” Sam wiggled his brow. “Really fine.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Bucky gasped as he recalled what happened. “You two must have crazy sex.”

Those words made Peter’s small pink tint turn into a fully-fledged blush, “No, we actually haven’t…”

“You guys haven’t had sex?” Steve’s jaw dropped. “Really?”

“We’ve like...fooled around, but yeah, no sex...um- actually, we were supposed to during this break,” Peter admitted, taking another sip of his drink to quell his embarrassment.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sam questioned.

“Nothing really,” Peter shrugged, glancing down at the beach and all the balloon carnage scattered across the sand. “We just haven’t had the time yet.”

“I think you guys should fuck tonight,” Bucky pointedly suggested. “You’ve got to seduce him, Peter.”

Peter scoffed. “I don’t have a single seducing bone in my body.”

“Drunk Peter had my dumbass fooled then,” Sam spoke under his breath, causing Steve and Bucky to giggle.

Peter gave an awkward laugh, “Can we please forget about that?”

“You sucked on his finger like it was his dick,” Bucky interjected.

Peter groaned, dropping his face into his palm. “Excuse me, I’m going to wither away now and transcend this plane of existence. Don’t wait up for me.”

“See ya,” Sam quipped.

Steve laughed, sitting up from his lounged position, “You don’t have to be embarrassed, Pete. There’s no judgment here.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, doll,” Bucky waved it off with a smile. “I’m sure, one of these days, you’ll catch us finger sucking too.”

“That’s comforting,” Peter rolled his eyes with a smile. “But okay, I’ll revert the withering process for now. Still, I don’t think I can channel drunk Peter on command.”

Sam nodded, reaching beside his chair to grab his own drink and holding it out, “Then, instead of channeling him, why don’t you just be him?”

“In moderation this time,” Bucky stressed, holding up his drink as well.

“To Peter getting fucked,” Steve offered a toast.

Peter giggled, holding his cup up to complete the cheers, “To getting fucked!”

~*13*~

Getting to this point was easy. After dinner and a bit more drinking, Ned roped everyone into a mini dance party with loud summer tunes and plenty of drinks. And something about the unintentional cardio mixed with the assortment of alcohol really made Peter’s haze set in. It was not nearly as strong as before – his motor functions were definitely intact – but that teeth-numbing warmth and indiscriminate confidence was alive and well. With all the sloppy dance moves, Peter could tell that everyone was somewhere on the drunk spectrum, even Tony, who was sporting tinted red cheeks and a very uncharacteristic smile as he moved to fall against the couch.

So, as he danced, Peter locked eyes with the seated bad boy, attempting to be seductive as he rocked his hips to the music as best he could. A little sway here, more hip in that move, add a bit of shoulder to that one; he was putting in a lot of effort. Yet, judging by the obvious snickering his boyfriend was doing, it probably wasn’t reading as sexy – he was trying his best, okay! He gave up, pouting as he rounded the couch, standing behind Tony and leaning in to whisper against his ear. “How dare you laugh at me. I was trying to seduce you.”

“Oh, really?” Tony snorted, leaning his head back against the couch. “I couldn’t tell.”

Peter blushed, lips still pursed in a pout, “Not even a little?”

Tony smiled, reaching his hand backward to pat his boyfriend’s hair. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“That’s good,” Peter whispered as he pressed a kiss against Tony’s cheek. “Did it turn you on?”

Tony inhaled sharp, “This definitely is.”

“Really?” Peter was surprised but moved to speckle more kisses against Tony’s cheek, jaw, and neck. “You like this?”

“Of course, baby,” Tony smirked, tilting his head to lock gazes with Peter. “I fucking love it when you touch me.”

A whine escaped Peter’s throat but, with his goal of seduction still at the forefront of his mind, he managed to contain his excitement. Instead, he leaned in, licking the space beneath Tony’s ear and whispering a fervid, “If you come to our room, I’ll touch you wherever you want.”

Tony didn’t need any more convincing.

They made their way to the bedroom, exchanging affectionate touches as they went. A hand on a hip, circling fingertips against exposed skin, the brush of an arm; innocent gestures that turned fiery the moment they stepped beyond the threshold and closed the door. Peter was the first to latch on, pulling Tony by the collar of his shirt into a messy kiss. One that tasted of vodka and smoke and, among the residual heat of dancing and arousal, it felt like a solar flare against his lips. He moaned into it, moving to jump up into his boyfriend’s arms.

Even in his buzz, Tony didn’t miss a beat. He caught Peter by the waist, stepping to press him against the wall but diverting towards the bed when Peter whined, a very needy, the bed, Tones, the bed. It was confident and sensual and made Tony hard enough to feel through his jeans.

And Peter could really feel it, especially against his own growing hardness as his boyfriend walked them across the room. He hummed pleasantly as he rutted against it, moving to trail kisses down Tony’s flushed neck, biting down against the skin of his collarbone and sucking to leave a deep red mark.

Tony inhaled through his teeth and groaned at the sensation, muscles flexing as he slowly lowered Peter against the duvet and climbed up between his legs. Then he smirked, staring down at his boyfriend with lust clouded eyes, “So we’re in a biting mood today, hm?” He whispered, leaning down to reciprocate the bite, leaving a mark of his own and enjoying the little whimper that spilled from Peter’s throat.

Peter busied his hands against his boyfriend’s toned stomach and in his wild hair, caressing toward the nape of his neck and around to the small of his back. He moaned, arousal flooding his core as Tony kissed his jaw and brought a hand up his shirt, rolling his fingertips against his nipple. It felt amazing, even more so when mixed with the heady feel of alcohol in his system. He found himself soaking in the closeness, lifting his hips for more and whining when the pleasure of the contact shot up his spine.

But then Tony’s hands snapped to Peter’s waist, pushing him back down against the mattress. “You’re so fucking eager,” He whispered, unable to hold back his pleased grin.

“It’s because I want you to fuck me,” Peter shot back, reaching to push Tony’s hand away and continue his impatient rutting.

“ What? ” Tony looked startled for a moment, then his expression turned pleased, then guilty, then worried. “Fuck, wait,” He shook his head, sitting back onto his knees and pushing down against Peter’s hips. “We can’t.”

Peter pouted, gently brushing his fingertips up Tony’s forearms. “Why not?”

Tony sighed, staring at Peter’s hands like they were torture devices. “You’re drunk, baby.”

“Am not,” Peter lied, putting on his best sober face. “I’m perfectly fine, so please,” He pleaded with a smile, moving to unbutton his shorts but pouting when Tony grabbed his hand to stop him. His expression fell into a frown, insecure feelings starting to surface in the form of anxious words, “Are you saying you don’t want to?”

“No, I do!” Tony said, his eyes glancing across Peter’s body. “I do. A lot ,” He took a deep breath, “You have no idea how much.”

“Then why?”

“Because I want you to be here when I fuck you.”

Peter rolled his eyes, shifting to prop himself up on his elbows. “I am here, Tones.”

“Not completely,” Tony shook his head. “I want to see the face you make around my dick when you’re sober.”

“Me too,” Peter whispered.

Tony let out a light huff, raising his brow, “You too?”

“No, I meant-” Peter blushed, averting his eyes, “That I want to w-watch you get off inside me.”

“Yeah?” Tony’s voice cracked a little, Peter’s words hitting him like a gunshot to his sanity. He inhaled slow, his gaze momentarily turning indulgent, “What else do you want, sweetheart?”

Peter bit his lip, nervously staring up at his boyfriend and whispering, “F-For you to- um... choke me.”

Tony grinned, leaning forward and ghosting his hand against Peter’s throat before pulling it away, “What else?”

“I want you to be r-rough,” Peter mumbled. “And um- use me... however you want because… I really just want to be good for you.”

Tony inhaled through his teeth, shifting to adjust himself through his jeans, “You are not making this easy for me, baby.”

Peter quietly gasped, “That too, that’s- I want you to call me baby,” He admitted, his face cast in a red hue. “Or baby boy. I like that more, but not all the time, just sometimes, like when we’re alone.”

“Okay, noted, I’ll be sure to tick these boxes later,” Tony smirked, “Anything else?”

“I don’t know,” Peter whispered, slumping back against the bed. “You’re going to think it’s stupid.”

Tony shook his head, “I doubt that.”

“It is!” Peter closed his eyes, looking more embarrassed by the second. “It’s a bunch of stupid first time stuff that’s completely unnecessary because this shouldn’t be such a big deal.”

“Come on, just tell me,” Tony gently urged. “Let me decide if it’s unnecessary.”

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Promise.”

Peter paused, covering his face with his hands and taking a deep breath. “I want-” He slid his hands away, revealing his expression, earnest and vulnerable, “I want you to say you love me.”

Tony froze, his jaw all but falling to the center of the earth as he was absolutely floored by Peter’s words. Moments of silence passed and then some more, where Tony just stared, gazed, focused solely on the boy in front of him, seemingly trying to find his words.

But Peter couldn’t take the silence, so he gave an awkward laugh, “N-Nevermind, you’re right, I’m drunk, ignore me, I’m being stupid, I’ll just go to sleep now.” He shifted away from Tony, moving to hide beneath the covers, fully prepared to wallow in his embarrassment.

But then Tony laid down beside him, pulling Peter’s covered body against his, whispering a comforting, “That’s not stupid, Peter.”

~*14*~

Spring break ended after a night of fireworks and group photos on the beach. The following morning brought a group effort clean-up, promises of summertime get-togethers, and friendly number exchanges. Packing the cars turned into hugs and ‘ see you later ’s, which turned into their long drive home. The trip ended perfectly but, as he watched the coast disappear behind them, Peter couldn’t help but feel sad. He already missed the early morning swims, the hilarious conversations around the fire pit, and the drunken late-night antics. As he settled into his sadness, a notification from Ned popped up on his phone: New Group Chat Invite from ‘Petey’s Mutuals .’ The name alone was enough to turn his mood around. He immediately dropped a laughing emoji in the chat, smiling at the flood of memes.

“Who’s blowing up your phone? Auntie?” Tony asked, his eyes trained on the road ahead.

“No, Ned made a group chat with everyone,” Peter giggled and reached for Tony’s phone, “You got an invite too. Want me to accept it?”

“Sure, if you want, but you know I’m going to mute it later,” Tony quipped.

Peter rolled his eyes with a smile, “I know but they’re asking for you. You’ve already been dubbed Petey’s number one mutual.”

“Petey?” Tony repeated with a smirk.

Peter laughed, “I don’t make the rules.”

The remainder of the drive was peaceful, filled with an atmosphere of playful banter and spontaneous jam sessions as the greens of the coast turned into the greys of the city. As the fresh air became stagnant and the windows were closed to give rise to the open vents, their laughter became crisper, easier to hear without the rush of outside sounds. The sun was beginning to set as they turned onto Peter’s street. It was there that their pleasant moment faltered.

Standing in front of Peter’s building, like some kind of treacherous final boss, was Howard Stark, with his sleeves cuffed to his elbows, a sway in his posture, and a five o’clock shadow. He looked furious and a bit drunk, evident in the way his car sat askew against the curb.

“What the fuck?” Tony whispered under his breath as he parked his car across the street. “Why is he here?” He stressed, pulling the keys from the ignition and dropping his head against the steering wheel.

“Don’t worry, we’re in public, he can’t do anything,” Peter assured as he pulled out his phone, quickly texting his aunt before placing his hand in Tony’s. “We don’t have to get out of the car if you don’t want to.”

“He’s been drinking, Peter,” Tony sighed, lifting his head to reveal his conflicted expression. “I don’t think being in public is going to stop him.”

Peter brought Tony’s hand up and pressed a kiss against his knuckles, “I’ll go and tell him to leave.”

And before Tony could protest, Peter was outside the car, bravely crossing the street and calmly approaching the apartment building. The slam of the car door let him know Tony was behind him but he didn’t glance back. He kept his eyes trained forward, locked on target, “Why are you here?” He asked, knowing the answer but starting there anyway.

“You!” Howard yelled, reaching forward and yanking Peter by his collar. “What the fuck did you do you little shit?”

In a breath, Tony was there, warily stepping between them and trying to pull Peter out of Howard’s grasp. The defiance angered his father and, just like before, the moment was fast. A hand was raised and swinging, aimed for Tony’s face. The only difference was, this time, Peter didn’t freeze. He held out his arm, using it to shield his boyfriend from the abuse. This time Peter was not paralyzed by his fear, he was motivated by it.

As his hand landed against Peter’s arm, Howard seethed, preparing for another swing, “You fucking-!”

“I see you got our email,” Peter interrupted, smirking despite the pain throbbing in his arm.

“Email?” Tony repeated, distracted by the sight of his usually skittish boyfriend standing up to his abusive father.

Howard’s eyes went wide, instinctively reaching to grab Peter again but stopping when the young boy spoke. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Peter warned. “Don’t forget that we’re in public and it’ll only help our case.”

Howard hesitated, glancing down the sidewalks, reluctantly stepping backward as his eyes met pedestrians. “How did you do it?” He fumed, the scent of alcohol billowing off his breath, “How did you break my encryption?”

“I didn’t,” Peter snorted. “Tony did.”

Howard’s attention shifted, zeroing in on his son with a vehement rage. “You gave this slut access to our company!” He screamed, “Do you even know what you’ve done? Did I not teach you better than this?” And, without warning, he grabbed Tony by his upper arm, “You goddamn waste of space!”

Peter clenched his teeth and, much like his boyfriend had just done for him, he shoved himself between them, trying to pull Tony out of Howard’s grasp. “Keep your fucking hands to yourself!” He snapped, surprising even himself with the outburst but having no time to process it before Howard’s hand was locked in his hair, harshly yanking his head forward.

“What the fuck did you just say, you little shit?!” Howard seethed, ignoring the glances from passing bystanders and, when his son flinched to stop his violence, he yelled an imposing and threatening, “Don’t even think about it, Anthony!”

Peter hissed at the pull, hands shooting up, struggling to get free. The pain was sharp on his scalp and, for a moment, he wanted to call out to Tony. Call out to be protected; to be saved. He wanted to rely on him but, with one glance at his boyfriend’s terrified face, he knew he couldn’t.

Because Tony was relying on him this time.

“You’re dumber than you look,” Peter spoke, laughing through his pain. “We were going to keep this quiet in civil court but you seem so determined to let everyone know what an abusive asshole you are.”

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” Howard retorted, yanking Peter up to face him. “You have no idea who you’re making an enemy of!”

“A businessman.”

“What?”

“I’m making an enemy of a businessman,” Peter repeated, his eyes stinging from the pain but his expression remaining calm. “I’m not an idiot. A rich person like you doesn’t fear court or prison or lawyer fees. You don’t care about anything but your bottom-line and keeping your company out of a scandal.” His brow furrowed then, “So I suggest you let me go before I circulate the files online and burn your precious company to the ground.” Peter’s words were venomous and deathly serious, enough to convince Howard Stark into releasing his hold.

“Anthony, what have you done?” Howard turned his attention to his son, “Son, they want to take you away from me. They’re blackmailing me in court. Do you know that?”

“I-” Tony was frozen, struggling to find his words, his hands trembling, “I’m-”

Peter’s face softened as he stepped beside his boyfriend, gently interlocking his steady hand with Tony’s shaking one.

“Is that what you want? Stark Industries is yours too, son,” Howard continued. “You’ll inherit billions. They’re trying to take that away from you.” Then he pointed to Peter. “He’s trying to take that away from you. Don’t let this one mistake ruin your whole life.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Tony finally spoke, his voice cracking as tears started escaping down the contours of his face. “I don’t give a shit about the company. You do! That’s the only fucking thing you care about! So stop pretending you care about what I want! All you do is control my life and beat the shit out of me!”

“I do that out of love, Anth-! Tony , you’ll be the perfect successor. You’re brilliant, son. You got through my encryption. You’ll take Stark Industries so far if you would just listen to me ! All you need is a little tough love to keep you in line. Keep you away from mistakes like him. I’m guiding you-!”

“You’re abusing me!” Tony yelled, “Just like you abused mom and chased her away!”

“I did not abuse that bitch!” Howard shot back. “She left! That’s on her!”

Tony inhaled through his teeth, averting his gaze to the ground, “I want them to take me away from you.” He looked up, his eyes red from all the tears but his voice clearer than ever. “Fuck you. Fuck the company. Fuck that fucking house and fuck your dirty money.” He gently squeezed Peter’s hand as he continued. “You always say I’m just like mom, so I’m leaving too.”

“No,” Howard’s voice was taut, “Listen to what you’re saying, son! You’re giving up everything, and for what?” He questioned, gesturing to Peter and the old apartment building. “This?”

“Yeah,” Tony nodded, stealing a glance at Peter, “For this.”

“You fucking useless child! You need me!” Howard screamed.

And he would have continued too, if it weren’t for the flashes of red and blue and the sirens rounding the street corner.

“Boys!” It was Aunt May, hurrying down the apartment’s front steps with her hands outstretched, beckoning for Tony and Peter. “Boys, come on inside!”

~*15*~

“Why on earth do you have so many boxes of clothes?” Peter promptly complained as he opened yet another box filled to the brim and labeled Tony’s Closet . “And I swear it’s all the same black shirt!”

“It is not,” Tony laughed as he worked at unpacking a box into his nightstand. “I have at least one white shirt in there.”

“And this!” Peter stepped out of the closet, donning Tony’s cap and gown from graduation. “You looked so cool walking across the stage, getting your diploma—”

Tony snorted, “I got the folder for the diploma.”

“— and, after summer school, you’ll look so cool getting your diploma in the mail.” Peter corrected, smiling as he slid the gown off and started to fold it. “The school was not so lenient about Tony – puts the T in Truancy – Stark, huh?”

“Yeah, turns out you actually have to go to class to graduate, who would’ve thought?” Tony jested, pausing as he pulled a picture frame from his box. For a moment, he stared at the photo, distress clouding his previously content expression, but then he dropped it back into the box, sighing before picking it up again.

“What’s that?” Peter asked as he walked over, kneeling down to get a better look.

Tony shrugged, “A picture of that painting from my old man’s place.”

“You have a copy of it.” It was more of a statement than a question. Still, Peter was stunned that Tony would hold onto it after everything that’s happened.

“Yeah,” Tony sighed again as he placed it back into the box. “But I don’t even know why. I just...”

“You just?”

“I just feel weird being in a place by myself, I guess, and it’s the only thing I have with the three of us together,” Tony sighed, shaking his head. “It’s fucking stupid, I know. He’s in it so I don’t want to put it up but she’s in it so I don’t want to get rid of it.”

Peter smiled, leaning to press a kiss against Tony’s forehead. “Then, while you decide what to do, I’ll get some pictures of us that you can put up.”

Tony smirked, deciding to leave the picture in the box for now. “Can I have that one in your living room of you at the science fair? You know, the one with your hair sticking up?”

“Absolutely not,” Peter laughed, playfully pushing against Tony’s shoulder. “That one of us during spring break is still in the group chat though.” He mentioned, returning to finish unpacking the closet. “I’ll print it out and frame it for you, okay?”

“Thanks, baby,” Tony happily responded, then his voice dropped low and uncertain. “Do you think I should bring up the picture thing next time?”

“Next time?” Peter asked but quickly realized what was meant. “Oh, for your next session? That’s up to you. If you want to talk about it, then go for it. That’s what they’re for.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed. “You’re right.”

Since spring break ended, a lot has happened. Tony’s dad agreed to let him move out, especially with the looming threat of a child abuse scandal above his head. More litigation was scheduled but they recently got the restraining order approved, which Aunt May called a ginormous win against that battalion of corporate lawyer dickheads .

In the meantime, May let Tony stay in their apartment. Though, despite Peter’s promises to keep his door open at night, May refused to let Tony sleep in his room. So for the next couple of months, Tony slept on the couch, and ate dinner with a smile, and watched movies that made him laugh. He sang rock ‘n’ roll when he washed dishes with May and flirted when he helped Peter carry baskets of clothes to the laundry room. His toughest days were his therapy days, when he would come back emotionally drained and tired, but even on days like that, he still managed to smile.

After graduation, Tony surprised everyone with the announcement of his new start-up business. It was a tech company of his very own, built from his progress with Jarvis and his endless technological imagination. One good payday turned into two and soon, he was even making enough to put himself through university. May suggested MIT but Tony said he would see how he felt after summer school ended.

Moving into his own place was Tony’s next big step. Aunt May demanded that he buy the studio apartment down the hall because no eighteen year old should be all on his own, young man . All in all, things were going well and they only seemed to be getting better.

“Hey, Tones, what’s this?” Peter stepped out of the closet, holding up a brown leather jacket that seemed much too small for his boyfriend’s body. “Is this an old jacket? From before you fell into your all-black-everything phase?”

Tony laughed, shaking his head, “No, that’s actually for you.”

“What? For me?” Peter’s eyes widened as he stared at the jacket, his fingers grazing the high-quality fabric. “But why? What for?”

“Our six month anniversary extravaganza,” Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t get a chance to give it to you then and, now, I guess the surprise is ruined.”

“I’m surprised,” Peter smiled as he threw on the jacket. “It’s a perfect fit.”

“Happy eight and a half months, baby.”

“Thank you, Tony,” Peter grinned, biting at his lip before he spoke. “After we’re finished unpacking, how about I give you your gift too?”

“My gift…?” Tony squinted but then his eyes went wide. “Really? Today? Like today today?”

Peter giggled, “I mean, I’ll have to take a shower first, but yeah.”

“Let’s fucking hurry up then,” Tony joked, making a show of his rush to unpack.

After another hour of diligent work, every box was emptied and every piece of clothing was folded and put away. Posters were hung, and kitchen cabinets were filled, and the couch was angled perfectly in front of the TV. They even carried the boxes down to the recycling bins. Everything was perfect and, when there was nothing more to do, they glanced at each other with blushing faces and simultaneous offers of you can shower first. Then awkward laughter as they corrected with a You can go ahead. No, you can, baby. Are you sure, Tones? Yeah.

It was an exchange that left Peter laying in the middle of Tony’s bed, fresh from his shower and wearing nothing but a black t-shirt from his boyfriend’s closet. Waiting anxiously as he listened to the sounds of the shower water and the hum of evening traffic pouring from the window. Scents from the soaps he had used and the lingering smoke from Tony’s ashtray wafted in the air and filled his nostrils. The only light came from a small nightstand lamp that left the room basked in a dim hue.

Peter’s heart was racing from thoughts of what was to come and it only quickened as the water shut off. He jolted up, sitting with his calves tucked beneath his thighs, tugging at the shirt’s hem as he stared at the bathroom door. A few more minutes ticked by – where he listened to the sounds of towel drying and moisturizer bottles and toothbrushing – before the doorknob turned and his boyfriend emerged, drying his hair and wearing nothing but boxers.

Tony took a few steps before glancing up from beneath the towel, smiling when he laid eyes on Peter, “That’s a good look on you, baby.”

Peter blushed, tucking a stray curl behind his ear, “It’ll look better off of me.”

Tony gave a light laugh as he tossed the towel against the back of his desk chair, his hair unruly and damp as he made his way to the bed. “I don’t doubt that,” He said as he climbed up onto the sheets, moving to sit cross-legged in front of his boyfriend, putting their bodies only inches apart. “Hey,” He whispered, reaching to clasp their hands together. “You’re sure about this, right? You know I don’t mind waiting for you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Peter smiled, idly caressing his thumb against the back of Tony’s hand. Fresh shampoo scents filled his nose as he scooted closer – close enough to feel the warmth of Tony’s legs against his. “Are you?”

“Fuck yeah,” Tony grinned, lifting Peter’s hand to his chest so he could feel how fast his heart was beating. “I’ve never been more excited to fuck someone, can’t you tell?”

Peter giggled, rolling his eyes with a smile, “No way that’s true.”

“Of course it’s true,” Tony assured, smiling as he reached upward to place a gentle hand against the younger boy’s cheek, thumbing at his jawline and the underside of his chin and against the front of his throat. “You’re the first to make me so fucking nervous.”

“Good,” Peter let out a light huff, grinning, “At least we’re both on the same page.”

For a moment, Tony laughed – and Peter joined, the sound of their laughter blending together in the modest space – but then he was silent. His eyes flickering between Peter’s big brown eyes and soft inviting lips, his breath going a bit shallow as he leaned forward and his eyes fell closed.

And Peter met Tony halfway, capturing his lips, which tasted of spearmint toothpaste, in a tender kiss. One that morphed into an innocent flurry of pecks that he smiled into and took his time with. Only deepening when hands traveled to bodies and lips began to part and Tony’s grip at Peter’s sides pulled him onto his lap. And Peter dragged his hands through his boyfriend’s still damp locks, not caring about the moisture that clung to his palms as he draped his arms over Tony’s shoulders and pressed their bodies even closer.

The brush of their arousals sent a spark of pleasure to Peter’s core, reminding him of just how exposed he was. Spreading his legs caused the t-shirt to hike up, so the only thing that separated his hardness from his boyfriend’s was a thin layer of cotton boxer fabric. The friction left him whining into the kiss. The right angles had his lips stalling like the sensation threw his mind off balance and the wrong ones had his hips grinding to chase what felt so right.

Tony gripped the underside of Peter’s thighs, skimming his fingers against sensitive skin and stopping to cup his ass, pulling his body closer to incite more of that sweet friction. Then, he broke their kiss, opting to bite the younger’s bottom lip before pulling away with a smug grin, “Getting off just on this, sweetheart?”

Peter’s face flushed but he breathed a playful, “No, not at all.” Confidence was abundant in his tone but his lie was so evident in the way he continued moving his hips and showed no hesitation in letting his little moans free.

“Oh, and if I do this?” Tony asked, moving one hand to Peter’s erection, squeezing ever-so-slightly and stroking slowly from base to tip.

The sudden touch brought a breathless moan and a raspy Tony to Peter’s lips. His body tensed and his head lolled backward as the buzz of stimulation brought a bead of pre to the tip of his erection. And when Tony did it again, Peter started stammering, “I-I’ll c-come, T-Tony, I-”

“I know, baby,” Tony whispered, halting his movements to wait for Peter to calm down. “But you know better than that, right?” He grinned, a smug grin that made Peter’s already flushed face go a deeper shade of red.

“Yes,” Peter whimpered, excited by the way his boyfriend was talking to him. He liked this part of Tony – the part that was in control and confident.

“Then say it,” Tony demanded as he thumbed slowly at the head of Peter’s length.

“I-” Peter groaned, his nails digging into Tony’s shoulder blades as he fought against the urge of release. “I d-don’t come unless you say so.”

“That’s right,” Tony smiled as he went back to stroking. Watching as Peter got dangerously close to the edge and then abruptly slowing down just before the younger boy had a chance to lose it. And then he would do it again, and again he would watch his boyfriend’s wanton reactions; the sweet shaky breaths, the whole body flinches, the high-pitched moans.

Soon, Peter was sweating, skin glistening in the low light as he was mercilessly teased and edged. It was torturous but it was nice; after all, this was something they had done before. The familiar territory helped him relax, helped him cast off the anxiety and the unease, helped him to be confident and stay in the moment. Helped him find the courage to steer them towards the next step.

“Tony, I want you inside of me,” Peter moaned against his boyfriend’s ear, adding a breathy please because his body urged him to.

And Tony’s muscles tensed and his breath hitched and his eyes near dilated at the sound of his boyfriend pleading for him. "Okay," He nodded and tugged at the t-shirt. "Then take this off for me," He instructed as he halted his hands and shifted off of the bed, moving to grab a bottle and two condoms from his dresser drawer.

As Peter pulled off the t-shirt and realized what the bottle was, he blushed. He found himself embarrassed that he didn't have his own – especially when he was the one asking for his boyfriend to be inside him – and he also wondered how Tony remained so unfazed when he carried those things to the bed.

Peter wanted to ask but he was already being pushed down against the pillows and sheets, his mouth once again being overtaken by his boyfriend’s lips. This kiss was more carnal than the last, a mix of swirling tongues and an urgency akin to hunger.

Tony hovered downward then, trailing sloppy kisses against the younger's now bare chest, taking a moment to lick circles against each of his nipples before continuing south. Peppering more wet kisses across Peter's abdomen and, when he reached his waist, he licked his way down Peter's length, savoring the startled moan that ripped itself from the younger's throat. He smiled as he spread his boyfriend's legs and went even further, kissing beyond the base of his twitching erection, all the way to his untouched hole.

Peter could feel the heat burning in his face and he would be lying if he said he wasn't a little nervous, especially when Tony kissed him there . “Tony?” His voice cracked.

“Yes, baby?”

“Can you tell me- um ...what you’re going to do?”

Tony blushed at that, pausing his kisses and sitting up on his knees. One hand keeping Peter's legs splayed open and the other reaching for the bottle. “I’m- uh… I’m going to finger you with this first,” He explained, the redness in his cheeks still visible as he popped the cap open. “I'm going to use a lot, so I don't hurt you too much." He brushed his fingers against Peter's entrance, "You’ve never touched here, right?”

“Never,” Peter admitted, his heart thrumming as he watched Tony coat two of his fingers with lube.

“So it’ll probably hurt a little but I’ll be careful, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter breathed, eyes squeezing shut as he felt the cold slick push against him. He held his breath and, with a little more pressure, a single finger was pressing into him, sliding into his tightness with little resistance.

“How’s this?” Tony whispered, eyes frantically searching Peter's expression for any signs of pain.

Peter exhaled slow, checking in with himself as he did. It didn't feel good or bad, just foreign and unusual. He opened his eyes, gazing up at his boyfriend and speaking an honest, “Uncomfortable.”

“Should I keep going?”

“ Mhmm ,” Peter nodded, giving Tony the go-ahead to continue.

So Tony pushed his finger deeper before pulling out slow, then he repeated, keeping his motions steady and smooth and careful. For the most part, Peter was silent, save for the small whines that escaped on the tops of his heavier breaths. In the lack of stimulation, his erection had started to soften but he was still very much aroused. The feeling of Tony's eyes on him was enough, especially when he was staring like Peter was the only thing in the world worth looking at. And between the sultry gaze and the gentle finger fucking, Peter's arousal was burning hot. It's not that bad , he thought, but the addition of another finger had him wincing.

“Wait-! Tones,” Peter flinched, reactively tensing at the pain of being stretched but fighting against the impulse when the tension only made it hurt more. “I-It hurts.”

“Okay, okay,” Tony eased, stopping his motions but keeping his two fingers halfway inside. “Is this fine?”

“Yes,” Peter’s breath was sharp on the inhale and shaky on the exhale. “J-Just don’t move.” He instructed as he forced his body to relax. The pain was not unbearable but, as a couple of minutes ticked by, the panicked thoughts swarming his mind started to be. Why do two fingers hurt like this? How am I going to fit more? Is Tony getting impatient? Is he bored with me? Is this supposed to feel good? Is something wrong with me? Peter shook his head, whispering a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” Tony immediately retorted. “If it hurts, it hurts.”

“I know but I-” Peter struggled on his words, trying to ignore his insecurities. “I just really want to make you feel good.”

“You are,” Tony leaned down, smirking as he pressed a kiss against Peter’s lips, pulling away just enough that the tips of their noses barely brushed together. “I could come just from watching you.”

“ Tones ,” Peter whined, averting his eyes, trying to hide his flushed face. “I’m serious.”

“I know but just don’t worry about me right now,” Tony asserted as he sat back up, careful to keep his fingers still. “We’re on your time, sweetheart. Take as long as you want.”

Peter locked eyes with Tony’s patient ones, feeling his anxiety ease as he did. The older boy really was just waiting, one hand gently massaging the sensitive skin of Peter’s inner thigh and the other exactly where he was told to leave it. Peter took a deep breath, actively convincing his muscles to relax and realizing that the pain was absent when he remained calm. So he breathed a quiet, “You can move them.”

And Tony nodded, wordlessly moving to squeeze more lube at Peter’s entrance before pushing his fingers in the rest of the way. Falling into the same steady pattern as before, attentively watching as Peter relaxed around the gentle finger fucking. And once Peter felt loose enough, Tony added more lube and another finger. This time, it was a painless stretch.

“Baby, you look so fucking gorgeous right now,” Tony praised as his eyes glanced across Peter’s pliant body. “You’re doing so good, you're taking my fingers so good.”

Peter’s entire body reacted to Tony’s words – even his waning erection twitched at the sound of them. “It’s for you,” Peter breathed out, his voice low and airy.

“Hm?” Tony asked, his brow slightly furrowing.

“I’m doing good for you, Tony.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you can’t talk to me like that. It’s gonna go to my head, make me lose my patience.” Tony gave a sly smile as he started curling his fingers, slowly prodding upward, searching and seeking, like he was trying to find something and – fuck.

An unexpected jolt of pleasure hit Peter so hard that, as he moaned, his voice cracked and the sound he made came out like a strangled whimper. The intensity of the feeling left him dazed, unable to process just how good it felt because Tony’s fingers were suddenly colliding with that spot again. It was almost overwhelming; a pleasure that operated somewhere between his typical orgasms and some fictional unattainable euphoria. Yet, judging by the way his hands clawed into the sheets, and the way his back arched, and the way he couldn’t exhale without a whine, this pleasure trended towards the latter.

Tony playfully grinned, unrelenting in his assault on Peter’s sensitive bundle of nerves. “Is it good, baby?” He asked as he upped the ante, bringing his free hand to stroke along his boyfriend’s stiffening length.

“ Tony !” Peter’s hands shot down, clutching at Tony’s wrist, urgently pulling his hand away from his erection. “W-Wait, I’ll come-!”

“That wasn’t an answer, sweetheart.” Tony clutched the base of Peter’s dripping length and massaged his thumb across the wet tip, syncing his teasing with each thrust of his fingers.

Peter released a gasp that quickly morphed into a harsh moan. The heady feeling left him frantically squirming backward, trying to evade the fervent pleasure but finding himself propped up on the pillows, trapped between the headboard and his boyfriend’s torturous hands. “It’s good!” He choked out, all teary-eyed and desperate. “Tony, I- ah! Can I c-?”

“I want you to beg for more,” Tony interrupted, slowing his hands before pulling away entirely, watching with a smirk when Peter’s hips flinched to chase the contact. “Will you do that for me, baby boy?” He asked as he leaned forward, holding himself steady with one hand and placing the other against his boyfriend’s throat, squeezing just enough to make his breaths come out shallow. “Will you beg me to fuck you?”

And Peter, whose eyes were blown from the stagnant bliss, immediately did what was asked of him. “ Please .” His voice came out slightly hoarse, strained by the pressure against his neck. “Please fuck me.” He begged, keeping his eyes trained on his boyfriend’s face. “I-I want it...your dick...inside me, please .”

“Fuck, I want to fucking ruin you,” Tony whispered, using his grip on Peter’s neck to guide him into a harsh kiss before pulling away and releasing his hand. “And I don’t think you understand how much.” Then he took a deep breath and smiled. “You’re such a good boy for me, Peter.”

Peter’s heart was racing and his face was warm and his erection was aching; Tony just had that effect on him, especially when he spoke like that. “Tones, please …” He whined, eager and pouty, like he couldn’t wait another second.

Tony laughed low, excitedly moving to pull off his boxers before returning to his place between Peter’s legs.

And just like the first time he’d seen it, Peter had to actively prevent his jaw from dropping. Tony’s dick was big, thick, hard – basically everything Peter wanted when it was being shoved down his throat. This, however, was much different. A shiver ran through his body at the thought of it in his ass. “Is it going to hurt?” He asked on impulse.

“Maybe a little.” Tony was honest. “I stretched you a lot but it could still be uncomfortable,” He explained as he rolled on a condom and slicked on some extra lube. “But I’ll be gentle,” He said as he positioned himself at Peter’s entrance. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

With a small push, the tip slid right in, popping inside without resistance like Peter’s body had been used to it forever. The feeling was hot and tingly, but Peter remained calm, attempting to keep his muscles from going rigid as Tony kept going. Halfway in was more of the same but beyond that was an uncomfortable pain. Not a sharp or stinging kind of pain, but a dull and throbbing one that left Peter flinching and sucking air through teeth.

“You okay?” Tony asked as he stopped his advances, dragging a tender hand through Peter’s hair. “Is this too much?”

“No,” Peter shook his head, reaching to hold Tony’s hand. “Don’t stop, keep going, I can take it.”

Tony’s breath hitched, his resolve to be gentle faltering under the weight of Peter’s tempting words. “You want the rest of it, baby?” He asked, squeezing Peter’s hand before he pulled away, hooking his arms beneath Peter’s thighs and gripping at his waist.

“Yes,” Peter murmured, moving to clutch at the pillow above his head, bracing himself.

So Tony pushed forward again, quicker than before, plunging deep enough to rip a loud groan from the younger boy. And then he held himself there, indulging in the pleasure of his boyfriend’s tightness, his voice strained, “How’s this?”

Peter felt like the wind was knocked out of him. The swift thrust left him tremoring around the thickness, panting like Tony’s dick had stolen his oxygen and replaced it with the strangest blend of pleasurable pain. The drag of the shaft against that bundle of nerves was what did it; he was sure, especially when Tony moved to pull out and the sensation was enough to make him feel like he was going to come. “I l-like it, Tones. It feels g-”

Peter couldn’t finish his sentence as Tony started pushing back inside. The thrust was just as fast as before, leveraged by his tugging at the younger’s waist and fueled by the ecstasy buzzing within them both. So Tony repeated his thrusts in quick succession, pulling out halfway before rolling his hips and burying himself back inside, occasionally pulling out until just the tip remained so Peter could catch his breath.

And Peter could tell with one glance that Tony was melting in the sensation; his eyes were half-lidded, his hands were gripping bruises, his forehead was beading sweat. The way his body flexed was pornographic, making Peter’s already stiffened length even stiffer, and the force of his motions was eager, overexcited, indulgent. Yet, none of that could compare to the sounds he was making. Peter had never heard Tony moan like this; so unbridled and honest. It left him leaking pre all over his stomach.

But Peter couldn’t come – not because Tony had not given permission, but because he couldn’t. The pleasure was there but orgasm still felt far away, like all he needed was just a little more. Just a little .

“Hey!” Tony grabbed Peter’s wrists, yanking them above his head and pinning them there with a single hand. “Who said you could touch yourself, hm?”

Fuck. Peter was so wrapped up in the feel of it all that he didn’t realize his hands had started moving toward his erection. “S-Sorry, I just...it wasn’t enough.” He blushed, his heart racing at his boyfriend’s strength.

“What?” Tony gave a mischievous grin, shifting his weight against Peter’s crossed wrists and bringing his free hand to Peter’s throat. “You want more?” He asked as he squeezed, laughing low when Peter gasped. “I’m not going to be gentle anymore, Peter,” He whispered, “Let me know if I should stop and I will.”

And when Peter nodded, Tony let loose. Keeping his grip at Peter’s throat steady as he slammed all the way to the base, pulling out almost entirely before driving back in. Besides the amount of force, Peter thought it would feel the same. He was wrong . So fucking wrong. This pleasure was different – different enough to leave Peter screaming – and the only changed variable was the angle. Tony wasn’t just rubbing against his prostate anymore, he was practically brutalizing it. Each thrust hitting it so directly Peter wondered if pleasure was even the right word anymore because, for him, it felt euphoric.

“This enough for you, baby boy?” Tony teased, loosening his grip on the younger’s neck as he continued his fervid assault.

Peter wanted to be playful, challenging, witty, but the only words he could manage were coated in a desperate need for release. “ Yes , T-Tony, can I- please, can I come? P-Please, please .”

“Sure, sweetheart,” Tony finally gave in, releasing Peter’s wrists and using his hand to stroke at the neglected cock. “Since you asked so nicely,” He rubbed his thumb against the head, keeping his thrusts steady. “You can come.”

And Peter did. He came harder than he ever has. All shaking and screaming and teary-eyed as his cock pulsated, shooting thick lines of cum against his stomach and twitching when Tony milked out the rest. The aftershock had him dazed and sensitive, even Tony’s touch burned with an agonizing bliss. All he could do was lay there, trembling around Tony’s dick, which remained buried deep inside of him.

“Look at you,” Tony breathed out, grinning sly as he smeared his hand through the cum. “You think we’re done?” He shook his head, bringing his wet hand against Peter’s face and rubbing it across his cheek and lips. “All that talk about wanting me to feel good, but here you are, looking fucked stupid.”

“I’m not done,” Peter exhaled, tongue darting out to lick the mess on his lips, challenging his boyfriend despite his body urging him to reject more pleasure. “We stop when you say stop.”

“Big talk,” Tony gave a light laugh and then, without warning, he lifted Peter by the waist and flipped them over. “Let’s see you back it up,” He said as he ran his fingers up the younger’s thighs. “Ride me.”

When Peter felt the gravity keeping Tony’s dick buried inside, his body screamed with overstimulation and, judging by the smug grin plastered across his boyfriend’s face, it must have shown. He didn’t care. Instead, with the goal of making Tony come at the forefront of his mind, he pressed his hands against the older’s chest, lifted his hips halfway up, and dropped them back down.

“ Fuck ,” Peter muttered under his breath, wincing from the overwhelming spark of pleasure. “Like this, Tones?” He whined as he repeated his motion, moaning and letting his hips fall into a rhythm.

“Yeah,” Tony groaned out as he skimmed his fingers to the sides of Peter’s thighs, which would tremble after each drop. “Just like that,” He assured, his eyes flickering between Peter’s lust drunk face and his diligently working hips. “Tell me how you feel, baby boy.”

It wasn’t a question – Peter knew that – but his focus was on keeping stable, fighting through the sting of breathtaking stimulation as he vigorously bounced his hips. So, instead of obeying, he took a page out of his boyfriend’s book and talked.

“Are you going to come inside me, Tones? Are you going to give it to me? Fuck, I want it so bad. I want your cum, Tony. You feel so fucking perfect. You stretched me so well. Look how good I fit around you now.” He managed to say it all confidently, despite his slightly ragged voice.

And it paid off because, soon after, Tony was coming. Peter could feel the warmth of his climax filling the condom inside. It was a strange but gratifying feeling, only improved by Tony’s blissed out expression.

Peter carefully lifted himself off and collapsed against the sheets. He was covered in a sheen of sweat and panting. The aftermath of his orgasm still imprinted on his senses. His body felt floaty and, if he even thought about the pleasure he had experienced, a wave of chills would quake through his body like a visceral reaction to being so utterly pleased. “Is it always like that?”

Tony breathed a short laugh, looking just as wrecked as his boyfriend. “Fuck. I hope so.”

Peter giggled as he scooted closer, draping his arm across the older’s torso, “So you liked it?”

“Yes,” Tony answered without hesitation. “Holy shit, baby, of course, I did.” He stressed as he eased into the cuddling, wrapping his arms around Peter’s waist. “Did you?”

“Yes!” Peter exclaimed but quickly lowered his tone, blushing at his overexcitement. “It was good. Really good. You’re really good. Like almost too good.”

Tony snickered, “I’m glad, especially since I ticked every box but the one.”

“What?” Peter was confused and then he wasn’t as he remembered his drunken list of wants. “Oh. Oh! ” His blush deepened as he nervously shook his head. “You don’t have to check that box if you don’t want to. We have plenty of time to say it later. Honestly, it’s okay.”

“But I want to and you deserve it,” Tony whispered. “Because you mean everything to me, Peter.”

Peter was stunned by his boyfriend’s candid words and his heart pounded in his ears as he responded with a quiet, “I do?”

And Tony just nodded and leaned in for a kiss, pouring his emotions into the gentle contact and, as he pulled away, he whispered it . So perfect and meaningful that Peter almost burst into tears as he shakily reciprocated. The soft laughter that followed kept him grounded as Tony said it again and again and again. The moment was special. Precious.

And it was theirs, and theirs alone.

#starker #peter parker x tony stark #badboy!tony au #nff #obligatorywrites

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