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backtothefanfiction · 2 years

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CHERRY BOMB | PART TWO

Summary: So much for a break from the Superhero life.

Word Count : 14.7K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Terrorist Attack, Angst, Drinking, SMUT! Threesome, P in V, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Oral (F+M Receiving), Light Spanking

A/N- I am so happy to be finally getting this one out there. There's a bit more plot here than I'd originally planned for these but I really wanted to touch on some of these things. I am also aware that the smut at the end may not be for everyone but there's still another 10K of story to eat up and you can always ignore it. Also this threesome isn't a regularly thing, it's a one off so if it isn't for you that's okay we wont be going back to that again. Also I do not live in the States let alone New York so forgive me and my google maps searches and if they wouldn't actually work that way in real life. Same goes for legal proceedings. It's a show trial/conference more than anything. Anyway ENJOY!

Go Back To| ONE The Apartment

TWO

Your sleep is disturbed by the feeling of the mattress dipping and moving beside you. You try to open your eyes to investigate but they are groggy, and heavy, and struggling to adjust to the light. You can just about make out a dark figure sneaking around your room in the early dawn light that’s starting to come through the window. You groan, your fingers reaching to rub the sleep from your eyes so you can piece together what’s going on, propping yourself up on one elbow.

“Go back to sleep.” A voice says hushed, before a body looms over the bed and kisses you on the top of your head. You groan again as you flop back into the covers, your eyelids falling heavy again. The sound of a small chuckle sends tingles through your body and your interest is piqued once more.

You sit yourself up again, your eyes slowly adjusting to the image of the room. You look to the window first in an attempt to gauge the time. The sky is a pale grey, barely lit and you surmise it’s just before sunrise. You look over to the tall figure on the other side of the room, who’s now pulling his t-shirt over his head, the memory of the night before slowly coming back to you.

You take a quick look down to your chest to see you’re still in your bra and you groan again, pulling at it slightly in discomfort. “Where are you going? Come back to bed, the sun isn’t even up yet.” You half croak over to Peter.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.” He says softly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek as your eyes continue to squint in tired dryness. Your nose scrunches slightly and he thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “I’ve got to get back across the city for an early lecture.” he continues to explain as he leans in to you, trying to make you understand, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. Your eyes grow heavy with the motion and he smiles as his forehead falls lightly onto yours. “Go back to sleep.” He says, his lips gently pressing against your head again and you pout.

You’re about to concede when a thought suddenly runs through your head, ‘the cutest guy, who you’ve just had an amazing night with, is about to walk out the door and you have no way of contacting him.’

He swiftly leans back, narrowly missing your head colliding with his as you scramble out of the covers, rushing to your feet. “Wait there a minute.” You quickly instruct, your hands outstretched motioning for him to stay where he is. Your brain begins to run a mile a minute as you attempt to remember where you left your phone the night before, hunting around your room completely naked save for your bra.

You soon realise, you’ve left it in your jacket pocket, which is still sitting on the back of one of the dining chairs in the living room. You silently open the door and creep the short distance to the living room area, where you are more than 100% sure that Kate would be asleep on the sofa. She normally crashed on the sofa at your place after a night out and it was still too early for her to crawl into bed with Yelena to be more comfortable.

You watch her like a hawk over the back of the sofa as you begin to root around in your pockets for your phone and have to fight the small noise of victory that wants to escape your lips when your fingers find it. Your lips pull between your teeth as you freeze, continuing to watch Kate and make sure she doesn't catch you in your currently humiliating state.

You quickly rush back to your room, letting out a sigh of relief as you close the door. You begin to unlock the phone and get the new contact details up and ready. When you look up from the phone to see Peter still sitting on the side of the bed waiting for you, you can't help but smile. It's like a shot of sugar has been injected into your body, a completely sickly sweet feeling coursing through your body, as you look at him run his fingers through his messy hair, a bashful, awkward look on his face. It amazed you how he could go from so confident to an insecure mess so fast.

He looks you up and down with a tight lipped smile as you make your way over to the side of the bed to stand between his legs, his hands finding a home on your bare hips, pulling you into him. “Here you go.” you say softly, handing him the phone. Your hands rest on his shoulders as he takes the phone from you, holding it in both hands between the small gap in your bodies, your figure looming over him. He silently hands it back to you and you can't help yourself, wanting to attach a picture of his adorable dorky face to it. You tap the icon at the top to take the picture and lean back, holding the phone in front of him. He knows what you're doing immediately and pulls the most awkward, cheesiest, eyes closed grin for you and you can't help but giggle slightly and melt.

At hearing your giggle, Peter can't help but reach out and pull your face down to his, pressing his lips to yours.

“I really have to go now.” he whispers into your lips when he pulls away, the tip of his nose rubbing gently against yours. You ignore him, crashing your lips back into his as you try to prolong the moment as much as possible. His hands reach out for the bare flesh of your hips and pull you into him again. Your fingers tangle into the hair at the base of his head, clinging on as tightly as you dare, wishing him to stay longer.

You break your lips away from his, your forehead resting against his as his hands relax and trace lines down the backs of your thighs. “Blow off your lecture.” your whispering voice pleads, eyes closed, heart aching for him to stay longer.

“I can't.” he says. “Even if I did, I still have my internship to go to afterwards.”

“Okay then stay a little longer, miss your lecture, have a long shower with me and then go to your internship from here.” you try to reason, peppering him with kisses in an attempt to bribe him.

He captures your lips with his in an attempt to stop you from teasing him. He knows that if he lets you continue you'll easily wear him down. It was all a lie of course, mostly. He really did have his internship at Oscorp to go to, but the lecture was his excuse to go out and do some Spider-Man work for a bit. He already felt guilty about taking the night off before for his birthday and he truly hadn't meant to fall asleep in your bed and stay with you all night.

His hands grow firmer on your thighs and you think you've won him over as he lifts you, flipping you onto your back on the bed as his lips continue to attack yours passionately. He looms over you, pushing you back into the pillows of the bed as you giggle into his kisses, all tight lips and teeth. He breaks away to look down at you fully in your giddy and beautiful state. How could someone half dressed with messy hair and slightly smudged make up, that didn't get taken off the night before, look so perfect; almost angelic like as the early morning light hit the top of your features.

He leans in to kiss you once more before pulling away fully. “I really have to go.” he says again, before breaking and indulging himself with one last kiss. “Go back to sleep.” he commands as he begins to head for the door.

You rush to reach for your phone, shooting him a quick message and his phone pings in his pocket. “Send me a message when you're next free?” It's both an insecure question and command.

“Promise.” he says with a small nod of his head. “Now go to bed.” he smiles, a small chuckle leaving his lips in reaction to your stubbornness.

As the door closes you finally concede, flopping back into your pillows as you listen like a hawk for the sound of the front door closing behind him. It's a bittersweet feeling, but that sweetness still lingers in the corners of your jaw and through your arms and you can't help but smile to yourself as you think over the night before.

—-----------

You wake up four hours later, just after 10 o'clock. You put on a fresh pair of underwear and your Uncle's old trusty ACDC t-shirt and pad down to the living room.

It's quiet save for muffled meowing coming from behind Yelena's door. You head to it, opening it just a crack for Socks to come flying out. You have to step back as the ginger cat, almost runs straight into your legs. You smile to yourself as you peak through the gap in the door at your best friends, bundled up under the covers together. Kate always found it easier to share Yelena's bed and get some actual rest when Yelena was already asleep and couldn't oppose to having her space shared.

You close the door, walking over to the coffee table, placing your phone down and picking up the remote to switch the TV on. Your fingers automatically change it over to the news channel for some background noise, as you go to make a fresh pot of coffee.

'Scenes from Midtown today as 3 individuals attempted to rob a bank on Park Avenue at 8am this morning. The incident was responded to by Police with the aid of the masked vigilante known as Spider-Man. Despite reports of the men being armed and one attempting to hijack a taxi, reports say everyone involved in the ordeal has come away unharmed. This comes just days before officials are due to meet in the city to discuss and re-negotiate the Sokovia Accords.'

You watch the news report from the kitchen doorway as the coffee pours, the familiar smell bringing you peace and comfort, despite the subject matter of the report. You turn away so you can pour yourself a mug, preparing it just the way you like, before padding back to the living room to flop yourself down onto the sofa. You pull your legs up onto the sofa to get comfortable, when your phone begins to buzz.

You check the caller icon before answering 'Star Spangled Iron Man', you thought you were so clever when you came up with that. “Hey Rhodey, what's up?” you ask jovially. It's not completely rare for your Uncle's best friend to check in on you from time to time now that your Uncle is gone, but you have to admit, sometimes it makes you feel like a child having someone check in on you when you're now a grown adult.

“Not much, just checking in.” he says.

“Yeah, I'm good.” you say as you reach to mute the TV. “How's the legs?”

“A little stiff, one of my knee joints is acting up and no one seems to have any idea of how to fix it, so if you know of any engineers who are as good as your Uncle was and could fix it, that would be great.” he says jokingly. Silence falls on the line as you both take a moment to remember Tony in all his glory. “Look I'm not gonna lie.” he finally speaks up, “I didn't call just to check up, I've got a favour to ask.” You stand as you become fidgety, moving yourself to pace back and forth past the window, looking down at the street below. “Now I know you're on a sabbatical or whatever but I wouldn't be asking if- look,” he says changing tact mid sentence. “They're renegotiating the Sokovia Accords at a conference in the city on Thursday and we need someone in the room to talk on behalf of the Avengers Initiative.”

“But Rhodey, I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D Agent, not an Avenger.”

“Well that's not completely true, besides you're a Stark.”

“Yeah and?”

“Being an Avenger is in your blood. You know first hand what it means to be a hero and why the world needs them.”

“Is there really no one else you can ask?” you plead.

“You think I'd be calling if there was.” With your Uncle, Nat and Steve all gone, the debate as to who was left in charge of the Avengers post blip was non stop.

“What about Banner, he's a founding member.” you say optimistically.

“He's refusing to come out of his lab, says his thing is science not politics. Besides with how he's looking right now, with his whole Professor Hulk thing, you think he's gonna be taken seriously.”

“Okay what about Clint?”

“Barton says he's retired.”

“Sam?”

“After everything that went down between him, John Walker and the shield, I don't think now's the time to be getting him up in front of politicians.”

“Wanda?”

“Not a US citizen.”

“Dr Strange.” you say, sure you've got your alternative this time.

“Says it's not his problem.”

“Okay, then what about you?”

“Technically I'm a Government official and work on behalf of the military.” There's a silence between you as you admit defeat. “Besides,” Rhodey finally chimes in again, “the press love a Stark.”

You roll your eyes as you frustratedly run your hands through your hair. “Fine.” you sigh, admitting defeat as you turn your gaze back towards the TV, which is still showing video footage of Spider-Man, helping to stop the bank robbers. “You catch the news?” you ask him.

“Yeah.”

“Where does he fit into all this?” you ask, referencing the hero in red and blue spandex plastered all over your TV screen.

“Don't know.” Rhodey says.

“What do you mean you don't know? No one’s reached out to him at all?”

“Look, half the population was gone, we kinda had other things on our plate. Dude came along and started just looking out for his neighbourhood, thought we'd just leave him to it.” Rhodey explained.

“Yeah, but how has he not got in trouble over the accords yet?”

“Guess he gets out of the way before the police can get to him.”

“No doubt that's why he wears the mask.” you mutter as you continue to watch the phone footage of Spider-Man webbing up the bank robbers to a car. “What time is this thing on Thursday?” you ask as you slump back down onto the sofa.

“Conference kicks off at midday, the meeting starts at 2. I'll send you the details.”

—------------

It's three days later and you are currently stood in your room in a pair of black fake leather pants and a bra, freaking out about what you should be wearing to this thing. You were on a break from all work and hadn't filled your wardrobe with any formal or professional wear; and are now finding yourself staring at a bunch of inappropriate dresses, band t-shirts and a few interesting tops. “Hey Yelena!” you shout through the apartment.

“Yeah?” she calls back from her own bedroom. You grab a slightly oversized white button up shirt from the back corner of your wardrobe and run down the hall.

“Can I borrow one of your blazers?” you half ask, half plead as you stand in her doorway, white shirt clutched in your fingers in front of you as you half attempt to cover your top half.

“Which one? Do you want the grey one or the black one?” she questions as she gets up from her bed, making her way to her open closet and flicking through the hangers. You tentatively step into the room, throwing the already semi buttoned shirt over your head. “I think you should go with the grey one.” she says as she turns back with her slightly oversized grey blazer in her hands.

“What about the black one?” you question as you slide your arms through the sleeves of your shirt before checking yourself in her mirror as you do up the remaining buttons and tuck it into your trousers.

“Yes, but I think the grey will be better.” she says, still holding the blazer out to you. “It adds contrast. You reluctantly take the blazer from her, practically snatching it from her grasp. “You're welcome.” she says sarcastically, eyebrows raised at your somewhat rude action. She secretly knows it's just because you're stressed though.

You slide your arms into the blazer, pulling it over your shoulders and brushing it over your form before hastily turning back to check yourself in the mirror. You begin to fiddle with your hair wanting to look just right. “I look like I've just stepped out of the 80's.” you roll your eyes at her through the reflection in the mirror exasperatedly as you take in the look of your skin tight trousers, white shirt and shoulder padded look.

“I think you look fine.” Yelena replies, rolling her eyes.

“Can I at least try the black one?” you ask turning around to face her,

“No, you look fine.” she says getting up from where she had sat herself back on her bed to stand before you. She grabs you by the shoulders as she makes you stand still in front of her so she can begin preening you, reaching to mess up your hair a little and untuck the shirt so it sits a little messily and more in line with the longline of the blazer. She then undoes the buttons on the sleeves of the shirt and pushes the sleeves of both the shirt and the blazer up to sit scrunched at your elbows. “There you go.” she says, stepping back to admire her work. “Now you have a modern twist. Now go put your shoes on or you're going to be late.”

“Oh shit.” you exclaim as you take a glance at her alarm clock beside her bed before running back to your room. You quickly fall to your hands and knees to root around under your bed for your favourite heeled boots. You stand placing your foot in one before hopping about to put the other on as you attempt to grab the bits you need with your other free hand.

You scuttle back into the living room, trying not to fall over your heels as you dump the last of the bits you need into your bag before throwing it onto your shoulder. “I filled you up a coffee mug to take with you.” Yelena calls out to you. “It's in the kitchen.”

“Thank you!” you shout as you spot it through the doorway and quickly grab the travel mug. “I'll call you later.” you shout out to her as you reach the front door, grabbing your keys out of a bowl by the door.

“Hey relax, would you!” she calls back as you slam the door shut.

--------------

30 minutes later and you are sitting in the back of a taxi in bumper to bumper traffic on the park avenue viaduct right next to Grand Central Station. As you look out the window there is a plaque on the bridge that reads 'On this site in 2012 during the battle of New York, The Avengers first assembled'. You knew there was another one as well placed at the base of the bridge. They had asked you to be there when they revealed it, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it, and now you were on your way to a conference to speak on behalf of the Avengers.

'I wish you were here.' you quietly mutter to yourself as you stare at your Uncle's name on the plaque. You look away, taking a deep breath, your nose sniffing as you look to the roof of the cab, wishing away the tears that now threaten to spill onto your cheeks. You take a moment to be thankful for your quiet taxi driver, who's minding his own business, before checking your phone for the time. 11.49am. You were so gonna be late.

You quickly check your messages. Peter had sent you a brief message to check on you and apologise for being busy the last few nights, but neither of you had made plans to see each other again yet.

YOU| Hey, do you want to do something tonight?

It's only a moment before you get a response.

PETER| Yeah, sure sounds good.

PETER| What did you have in mind?

YOU| A night in? Pizza and a movie?

You watch the small screen in your hands as the three dots show up to indicate he was writing his response, but then they dissapear. You sigh but continue to watch and wait. Suddenly the sound of screams started echoing up from the road below. You frown as both yourself and your cab driver begin to look out the windows curiously.

Then more people started screaming and shouting. People were getting out of their cars up ahead. You watched as your taxi driver, growing curious, got out of the car to get a better look. Your ears started to filter through the chatter of the open car door in the front as you began to work out that somebody was shouting “get off the bridge”. BANG!

All chatter and screaming was drowned out by a large explosion. A big hole emerging in the road ahead of you, the vehicles dropping to the road below as the bridge began to crumble. Your heart thudded in your chest as panic and adrenaline started flooding your body and your taxi driver started running, leaving you stranded in the back of the car.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” you groaned as you realised what was going on. You reached for the door handle but no matter how hard you pulled the door wouldn't open. “Are you fucking kidding me!” you yelled frustrated as people continued to run past you, trying to get off the bridge before it collapsed or another bomb went off.

You kicked the seat in front of you as you grew angry, trying to get out some of the adrenaline so you could at least think straight and think of a way out of the car. The plexi glass dividing the front seats from the back was too strong and the sliding window in it was too small to fit through. If you used your powers you'd just fry the electrics in the car and make your problem even worse. You went to press the button to open the window so you could climb out but the stupid taxi driver had turned the engine off while he was stuck in traffic and now they wouldn't open either. You screamed in frustration. “Uuugghh why did I have to get the one global warming conscious taxi driver on this god forsaken island.”

You were about to turn yourself and start kicking at the window when another loud commotion came from the road below. As the realisation that another bomb was about to go off directly under the car, something heavy landed on the bonnet, making the taxi dip with the weight. You sat yourself up to see a pair of legs covered in red spandex with a black webbing pattern on them. He flipped over the car, landing next to the passenger door beside you quickly pulling it open as a large bang went off under the car. You screamed as the car dropped, his hand reaching to grab yours, pulling you quickly from the vehicle.

Your heart felt like it was in your throat as your body jarred, coming to a stop, hanging in mid air. You looked up to see he had one hand tightly around your wrist, his other hand hanging onto a web attached to something up on the bridge.

Your fingers quickly grasped a hold of his wrist, strengthening the hold as your legs dangled, your heartbeat thumping through your whole body. You looked down to the rubble filled road and smashed taxi below you. Although you were grateful to your rescuer, you couldn't help but have a small existential crisis. “I swear to God, if you drop me Spider boy.” you threaten, as you begin to find your voice, the initial shock subsiding and your work head kicking in.

“It's okay Ma'am, I've got you.”

You could hear people's gasps of amazement from the street over his heroic deed. 'Was this what it's always like?' you began to question.

“I'm gonna toss you into the air and then I'm gonna catch you properly okay?” he began to explain.

“Wait?! WHAT!” you shrieked in disbelief just before he was swinging you up into the air. Your eyes closed tightly as your stomach flipped. There was a sudden slam into your side as his ribs collided with yours, his arm reaching around you. Then your body jolted, before he whipped the both of you into the air.

You quickly opened your eyes, trying to get your bearings, your arms immediately wrapping around his body as you realised he was swinging you away from the bridge altogether. You wanted to scream but your voice was stuck in your throat. You closed your eyes again, pressing your face into his shoulder, trying to breathe deeply in an attempt not to throw up. Suddenly your feet came into contact with solid ground.

You reluctantly broke away from him, your legs wobbling and he held his hands out to balance you. Your eyes slowly began to focus on where you were. You were high, like really high. “Look I gotta go back down there but I'll be back, you'll be safe up here.” he said as he broke away from you.

“Wait! What? What! No!” but it was too late, he was already jumping off the roof top and back into action down on the street. “No! No! No! You have got to be kidding me!” you shouted as the last three minutes began to sink in. You weren't just another hopeless victim, this was your life, your job and suddenly you were being sidelined by a kid in blue and red pyjamas. Your eyebrows furrowed as you began to piece together what had just happened. Either way you needed to get off this roof top. ROOFTOP! He saved your life then dumped you on a rooftop.

You begin frantically searching your pockets for your phone, before you remember you left it in the car, along with all your other things. Desperate, you quickly turn around, looking for a way down. Spotting a door on the other side of the roof and begin to rush towards it. You knew it was a longshot but you just had to try it. Your fingers reached for the door knob but nothing. You turned and you pulled with all your strength but it was locked. You scream again in frustration as you resign yourself to your fate, kicking the door in defeat.

'Oh well.' you mutter sarcastically to yourself as you take a seat on the floor, your back leaning against the door, 'It could be worse, you could have been tasked with speaking at a very important meeting to discuss and negotiate terms regarding the necessities of vigilanties and hero work. Oh wait.' You groan again as your head thuds against the door in frustration.

An hour. That's how long it takes for him to come back for you. As soon as his feet touch down on that roof in his silly little outfit you are on him. Rushing to your feet, you storm over to him, your hands slamming against his chest as you push him. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!” you shout at him.

“What?!” he questions, his voice breaking as he steps back confused, trying to protect himself from your sudden outburst. “I saved your life, your welcome. Hey, hey! Hey, stop.” he says grabbing your wrists stopping you from pushing him or hitting him any more.

“You don't just leave people stranded on rooftops!” you shout at him, as you stare up into his stupid mask.

“I was getting you out of the way. I was making sure you were safe.” he says defensively.

“What by leaving me on a rooftop for just over an hour!” you rebuttal. “You know, I am supposed to be at a conference across town right now defending people like you so you don't get into trouble, because I don't know if you know,” you say laying it on thick behind gritted teeth, “that technically what you do is illegal. AND JUST DUMPING PEOPLE ON ROOFTOPS,” you say your voice rising again as you wrestle your arms away from his grip and take a few steps back “IS KIND OF UNHELPFUL!”

“I'm sorry. I'M SORRY.” he says trying to make his apology heard over your onslaught. “And you're welcome for getting you out of that car in time by the way!” his tone changes, words attempting to cut you.

“Oh my God! I don't have time for this.” you say exhausted, as you turn your back on him, your hands running through your hair in disbelief that you are even in this situation. You freeze as your solution dawns on you. You reluctantly turn back to him. By the look on your face he thinks you're hurt. He begins to panic slightly, stepping forward to check you over properly. He'd done a quick one before he'd left you here to be sure you weren't physically hurt, but he could have missed something. Before he can get any closer though you ask a question, stopping him in his tracks,

“How quickly can you swing me across the city?” you tentatively ask him.

“Well it depends where you need to go?” he rebuttals.

“Look, I need you to get me to the Javits Centre, like fast.”

“Wait? What? You were just in the middle of a terrorist attack. Like the bridge you were on was just blown up-” he exclaims, his arms outstretched as he's trying to understand you.

“Look Spider Guy-”

“-Spider-Man.” he corrects.

“Whatever, I haven't got time. I need to get across town to get to this conference, because no one else is apparently available to do this, and defend the right to do the job that literally has ripped the closest people I've had in my life away from me, for the sake of being able to save people when we have incidents like that.” You ramble and try to reason, tears now stinging your eyes as you fully realise the weight and pressure of your job.

“Hey, Hey Hey.” he says, his hands reaching to rub soothingly on your arms as he sees the growing panic welling up inside you. “It's okay, I'll get you there. It'll be okay.” he coos softly and for a moment you feel like his voice is familiar, but quickly shake it off. You shrug yourself away from his touch, uncomfortable with his sudden affection. You didn't need his pity.

“Look, let's just get this over with.” you say. He gives you a small nod, searching your face for permission before wrapping an arm around you. You have no problem finding your voice and screaming this time as he hooks a web onto a nearby building and your feet leave the safety of the rooftop.

----------

You try to smooth your windswept hair as you rush into the building. The atrium had mostly emptied out, the majority of people having gone to find their seats ready for the debate. “There you are.” Rhodey's voice echoed around the space as he made his way towards you. “Where the hell have you been? I've been trying to get a hold of you.”

“Yeah well my phone is kind of trapped inside a taxi, which is buried under rubble-”

“-Wait, what?” Rhodey cuts you off, a hand on your shoulder.

“What, you guys didn’t catch the news?” you say trying to shrug him off, already aware of how late you already are.

“Woah. Woah. Wait.” he says, walking around you and stopping you in your tracks. “You just gonna drop that little piece of information on me and walk away?”

“Wait, you seriously haven't seen the news?” you say taking a small step back, perplexed.

“Oh no I've seen the news, two dipshits blew up the Park Avenue viaduct. What I didn't know was you were there. Are you okay? Were you hurt-”

“-I'm fine.” you cut in over the top of him as he began to fuss. “The Spider Guy saved me.” you briefly explain, feeling anxious and agitated, you just wanted to go and get this thing over with. “Now are we gonna go do this or not?” you finished, growing short with the man before you.

“Cherry-”

“What?!” you cut him off before he can continue to fuss.

“What would your Uncle say to you right now? You really think he'd just hear that you were-”

“Look around Rhodey!” you exclaim, your arms outstretched. “He's not here. He's not coming! He can't say anything!” There's a pause between the two of you, before you lower your voice continuing, “He's dead. Now, are we gonna stand out here all day debating what's just happened, or are you gonna let me go in there and defend the right he died for?”

The room went quiet as you made your way inside. As the latecomer all eyes were on you. “Ahhh Miss Stark, pleasure for you to finally join us.”

“I'm sorry I'm late,” you started to explain as a sea of camera flashes went off. “I kind of got stuck in traffic, someone decided to blow up the Park Avenue Viaduct.” you say with a small smile and grimace, as you tried to deflect the fact you were actually caught up in the middle of the incident.

You took a seat in the last empty chair at the large conference table in the room that was placed before a group of government officials as well as heads of military organisations, homeland security and the white house. You got yourself comfortable in your seat as the people in the room began to mumble to themselves.

“Hi,” the guy next to you in red glasses, leaned over to introduce himself, “I'm Matt Murdock, um, Pepper Potts sent me to be your legal advisor.”

You look at him conflicted for a moment before shaking his hand. “Thank you?”

“Don't mention it.” He replied, sitting back in his seat and facing forward, ready for proceedings to start. You continued to look at him as thoughts rapidly began to fall into place in your head.

'Matt Murdock. He's that blind lawyer guy right? He said Pepper sent him. Wait Pepper knew? Oh shit, I haven't reached out to Pepper or Morgan in a while. I hope she doesn't hate me. Why would she hate me, she just sent me a lawyer.'

“Right seeing as we are all here, shall we begin proceedings?” The head judge presiding over the proceedings began, drawing everyone's attention to him. A silence fell over the room. “Mr Thompson, would you like to go first?” the judge motioned to an older white man in a suit sat further down the long table. His hair was beginning to grey and his skin wrinkles were reflecting his age.

“Thank you, your honour.” He said as he stood. “As we all know 5 years ago, Thanos snapped half the planet's population into oblivion. The planet was deemed to be in a state of crisis. Many members of the military and law enforcement were included in those missing, meaning The Sokovia Accords went mostly unchecked for the past 5 years, allowing certain vigilantes free reign over certain threats and matters during that time. However as we all know, those who were missing have now been returned. We have fought long and hard over these last 7 months to get things back to some sort of normalcy and get our communities back on track. Thanks to the sacrifice of Tony Stark, Thanos was defeated; however, with no imminent looming global threat we believe it is time to reinforce the Sokovia Accords that were agreed upon. Over the years since the initial blip, the rise of vigilante's has grown. The acts of the Avengers have encouraged others to begin to step up into hero work, interfering with local law enforcement investigations, placing themselves in danger and also placing others in danger.

One may also argue the rise in vigilante's and 'heroes' has only acted to increase criminal behaviour and encourage those who wish to commit criminal acts. They see these vigilante's and think 'if they can act above the law, then so can I'. These people need to see the repercussions of their actions.”

Your eyes roll as a large groan falls uncontrollably from your mouth. You feel Matt Murdock's hidden smirk, burning into your side as you instinctively get to your feet unable to contain yourself any longer. “Your Honour if you please.” you say loudly, cutting off Mr Thompson and his tone of superiority. “The Sokovia Accords have always been obsolete. They were a document rushed with little negotiation regarding the terms that were set out within the original document. My Uncle was the first to sign his name on the dotted line agreeing with all the terms, but the moment a threat occurred there was no call with the President or Secretary of State, he immediately jumped into action to help save those in danger when the moment came, regardless of the accords he signed.

It has been proven time and again within these situations that local law enforcement, government agents and even the army are unequipped for moments that involve superhuman intervention. They lack the strategy, speed, resources and efficiency to help those in danger on the front line in these situations. Now, I am in no way saying the accords should be scrapped and those with abilities shouldn't be held accountable for their actions when the moment calls for it, but a better system needs to be put into place and new terms negotiated.

As for this so-called argument that heroes and vigilante's encourage criminals and increase rates of crime; with more people on the streets bringing criminals to justice and responding to moments of public threat or distress, of course the figures and numbers of incidents are going to go up, because more crime is being seen to.”

“Okay Miss Stark,” Thompson cuts in with his rebuttal, “how about the hundreds of thousands of dollars spent tidying up and rebuilding those areas destroyed by vigilante work?”

“After the Invasion of New York my Uncle set up the Stark foundation and used said foundation to pay for the majority of all damage costs as well as investing back into communities and the people within them. To say that the Avengers initiative comes in and destroys communities and then ups and leaves the clean up of the towns and cities they have effected is just unfounded and actually makes a mockery of his memory.”

The debate goes on for hours with arguments being made for both sides. You feel like you are getting nowhere, both yourself and Mr Thompson going in constant circles. The sun is setting, blinding your eyes as it burns brightly through the large glass windows to the room making you nauseous. As you reach to refill your glass of water, you watch the red patch of light reflecting off of Matt’s glasses onto the table.

He’s currently stood, arguing a point you have all but drowned out with your thoughts. ‘This feels hopeless. This has been going on for hours. I didn’t even want to be here doing this in the first place. Oh how I wish this Judge would just call it a day’.

You close your eyes, taking a deep steadying breath as you sip the now tepid water. You open them again and remove the glass from your lips as you feel the air change beside you and Matt sits once more. Your ears begin to tune in with a small mumbling in the room.

“Hey you okay?” Matt asks, a steadying hand feeling for your shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” you say shrugging him off, but he can tell from the miniscule sound of your eyelids rapidly blinking that you are lying.

“I think we should call it a day don’t you think?” the Judge exclaims into the brief break in arguments and you breathe out a sigh of relief. “Mr Thompson, Miss Stark, shall we reconvene here at noon tomorrow?” he suggests to the room but everyone knows it’s a command. “And maybe we will all be able to turn up on time tomorrow.” he throws in for good measure, flashing a glance in your direction.

You give a tight lipped smile and a small nod in the judges direction in both apology again for your previous tardiness and also confirmation that you will be on time tomorrow.

“You are all dismissed.” the Judge says and you all stand as he leaves first, the rest of the congregation breaking out into mumbled discussions as the room followed suit, rapidly emptying.

“You did good today.” Matt says beside you as he places his briefcase onto the table and begins putting his notes inside.

“Thanks.” you say, your fingers twisting and fidgety. There’s an awkward pause between you before you say, “So I’m assuming you’ll be reporting this all back to Pepper.”

He snaps his briefcase closed and extends his cane. You follow at his side as you join the last dregs filing out of the room. “I mean, I’m sure she saw most of the debate on TV so not much to report, but yes there will be a phone call and discussion about strategy for tomorrow.” At his words it’s at that point you realise the whole thing had been televised. You roll your eyes and huff frustrated, you could really use a drink. Sensing your unease, Matt pulls you to one side when you get out the doors. “Look I know this isn’t easy but when I said you’re doing a good job I meant it. Your Uncle would be-”

“Very proud of me, I know.” you cut in. You’d heard that so much lately it was almost like people were trying to push you into living up to his name, to filling his shoes, but you didn’t want any of that – not right now anyway.

“Hey Cherry!” a voice called down the hallway to you. You turn to see Rhodey cutting through the crowd to get to you. “Mr Murdock.” he says with a nod of his head in Matt’s direction as he comes to a stop.

“Mr Rhodes.” Matt politely responds before turning his attention back to you. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” he says cordially before turning to leave.

“I managed to get you a new phone.” Rhodey says as you turn towards him, his hand ushering the cellular device into your fingers. “It’s the best I can do on short notice. I tried to call round to the team at the bridge to see if they could find your actual phone but they say it could take days of moving rubble before they find it.”

“Thanks Rhodey.” you say, flashing him a small smile. There’s a pause before you say, “Did you know Pepper was sending me a Lawyer?” your eyebrows raise slyly as you fish for information.

—--------

It’s almost 7.30 by the time you get home. Most of the remaining rays of the sun are hidden behind the massive glass and concrete buildings that surround you and a chill is beginning to settle in. You pat yourself down looking for your keys only to be reminded of the catastrophe that had been your morning. You groan in frustration as you slump against the glass door of the apartment block.

“Everything okay there?” came an elderly lady's voice from behind you.

You turn to see Mrs Ryan from apartment 5D waiting expectantly behind you with her shopping trolly. There’s a small mew that comes from the top of the basket and you aren’t surprised at all to find Socks riding on top of the chequered covered trolly. You give her a smile before giving her a brief recount of your day telling her all about how you lost your keys during the commotion over the bridge bombing (conveniently leaving out how you had actually been on the bridge), how you had been late for the Sokovia Accords conference and how you feel like you did absolutely awful at trying to argue your case on the side of the Avengers. “I just-” you falter trying to find the right words to understand why you feel so low. “I feel like everyone is expecting me to fill his shoes, you know. Everyone keeps saying how proud my Uncle would be of me, but the truth is I just feel like I’m letting him down.”

“Are you a lawyer?” she asks as she uses the fob on her keys to open the front door.

“No.” you reply as you follow behind her and her trolly into the foyer.

“Are you an Avenger?”

“I mean technically no.” you say, wincing at the thought of you being a hero in a gaudy outfit at all.

“Then it’s not your priority or problem if you do bad.”

“But what about-”

“I knew your Uncle.” You turn to her, surprised at the statement, as you both wait for the elevator. “And your Mom.” she adds in with a small finger wag. “Hard to believe now, but when they were younger they used to run around this very apartment block.” You look at her puzzled as she steps onto the elevator, the cat still sitting patiently in the top of her basket giving a small mew as the trolly passes over the gaps from the elevator doors. “Ah yes Rita.” she says with a sigh that invited a memory. “She was a Nanny for the Starks back in ‘79. Occasionally she would pop in with them when they were out and about running errands or going to the park.” she recounts as you press the buttons for your respective floors and the doors close. “They used to run up and down the stairs and through the corridors much to young Rita’s dismay. No, no. Your Uncle would be glad of you not turning out like him.” she says definitively.

“I never knew that.” you say slowly, trying to process the information the little old lady had given you.

“Well now you do.” she says as the elevator comes to a stop on her floor. The small bell dings and socks hops off the top of the shopping basket with wheels with a meow of thanks.

“Umm Mrs Ryan,” you say and she stops to turn back and look at you. “Thank you.”

She doesn’t say anything else, just gives a small smile and nod of her head as the doors begin to close behind her. You look down to the cat sitting patiently in front of the doors, watching his reflection in the metal and paying you no attention, and relax slightly with a content smile; as if a small fraction of weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

You make your way down the corridor to your apartment hopeful for someone to be home to let you in. You wrap your knuckles on the door but alas no one is home. It’s at this point you are grateful for hiding a spare key in the hallway.

You check behind the small framed picture that hangs on the wall between your apartment and the one at the end of the hall. Given your affiliation for artwork it seemed like the most logical space to hide it. It slips off the back of the canvas frame, falling to the floor with a tiny clatter and you sigh a breath of relief.

You switch on a lamp and one of the neon signs in the living room as you enter the apartment, dumping the spare key down on the dining table, resigning yourself to putting it back later. You kick off your boots and pad into the kitchen. You immediately open the fridge, searching for a drink, the bottles in the door clinking against each other with the force of the swing.

You swipe the quarter full bottle of vodka from the top shelf before reaching for one of the shot glasses that are drying on the draining board. You kick the fridge door shut behind you with a clattering thunk, as you head back to the living room. You flop onto the couch cushions, using the bounce to sit yourself forward on the sofa. You dump the bottle and glass down on the coffee table and reach for the remote sitting on the tabletop next to the bottle. You run an exasperated hand through your hair as you switch it on, the sound of a news anchor's voice instantly permeating the stale air of the apartment.

‘The total number injured by the attack has now reached 24. In other news, things got heated on the other side of the city today as the first round of arguments over the renegotiation of the Sokovia Accords began. The accords which came into effect back in 2016’

You begin pouring yourself a shot as you try to block out the news report just long enough to have your first drink before switching over the channels.

“The side of the Avengers Initiative was being represented by Y/N Stark, the Niece of the late Tony Stark. Tony Stark also known as Iron Man gave his life-“

You begin flicking through the channels searching for anything else to watch. Passing reruns of old sitcoms and even a few old kids cartoons before you find a channel showing Back to the Future. It was one of those films your Uncle introduced you to and neither of you could resist watching it when it was on TV.

It had just gotten to the bit after Marty first travels back to 1955 and you pour yourself another shot as the jingle of Mr Sandman begins permeating your apartment. You’re about to relax further into the couch cushions when there’s a sudden tap tap tap at the window.

You turn to see Peter out on the fire escape with a pizza box in one hand, his fingertips on the opposite hand resting against the glass of the window, as he waits for you to open it. He flashes you an almost guilty looking smile and you rush to open the window.

“What the? Why didn’t you just use the door?”

“I couldn’t remember which number was yours.” He replies bashfully trying to brush off his logic.

“Oh but you can remember which window is to our apartment?” You step back, placing your hands on your hips looking him up and down sceptically.

“Well I remembered what side of the building you were on and how many floors up it's just basic math. Besides I tried to call.” He adds innocently. “Now are you gonna let me in or?” He waves the pizza around slightly, silently asking if you didn’t actually want it, thus allowing him to have it all for himself; or if you were just gonna make him wait out there until it goes cold.

You roll your eyes and step back further to allow him to climb in through the window awkwardly with one hand, trying not to drop the pizza. When he is finally inside the room his head turns to check what’s on the TV as you take the pizza box from his hand, allowing him to settle in properly.

“Back to the Future.” He says towards the TV as you fall back onto the couch, your legs flicking out and almost hitting the coffee table with your momentum. “I love that movie.” He adds as he shrugs his backpack and jacket off of his shoulders before taking a seat on the sofa beside you. You open up the pizza box to reveal a half and half of plain margarita and the other pepperoni.

“I didn’t know what you liked so I just went for the classics.” He says.

“I like the classics.” You say with a few nods of your head.

You each take a slice and start munching on it as you both turn your attention to the movie. After a few moments you break the silence between the two of you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t pick up your calls, it’s just been a bit of a day and I lost my phone and-“

“It’s okay.” He says. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. We can just sit here and watch the movie.”

You feel grateful for his air of nonchalance not pushing you for any answers straight away. You go back to watching the movie in silence for a few minutes but you can’t help but ask. “Did you watch…?” You can’t bring yourself to finish the question, feeling it too vain as you also turn your head to avoid his eyes.

“Will it make you feel better if I say no?”

“I mean…” you let the sentence hang unfinished in the air, not sure if you’d rather have the truth and talk about it or not.

“I caught the end of it.” he finally says.

“And…?”

“What, you want me to tell you you were terrible?” he asks with a smirk and a chuckle turning his body towards you.

“Yeah actually.” you joke but your tone is more self deprecating as your eyebrows lift encouraging him.

He chuckles before reaching out to you, forcing you to look at him as his tone becomes more serious. “Cherry, I could never think you terrible.”

You allow his words to sink in for only a moment before shrugging them and him off slightly, shifting your body and pulling away from him. You reach for another slice of pizza, your body and gaze turning back towards the movie.

You both continue to watch the movie in silence but the bottle of vodka sits in your peripheral on the table, screaming at you to be drunk. You hastily get up and go to the kitchen to grab another shot glass.

You come back and slam the glass down on the table next to your own. Peter watches you closely as you pour out the two shots and hand him one, allowing him not much say in the matter. He raises his eyebrows at you as he takes the small glass between his fingers.

“Look I’ve had a hard day, I want to drink and if my Uncle taught me anything, it’s that it’s sad to drink alone when with company.”

You clink your glass against his in cheers before knocking it back, the liquid burning your throat and you wrinkle your eyes. When you open them again Peter hasn’t moved, he’s just watching you. You expect pity in his eyes but are met with something else instead. His eyes almost sparkle friendly, yet impressed, as he holds out his shot to you. “You want this one as well?” he asks.

You give out a small breathy scoff as you smile, taking the glass from him. He takes your empty glass from you so you can clink the empty glass and do your ritual again.

“Feel better?” he asks with raised eyebrows and smirk.

“Yeah actually, a little.”

“Good.” he says, taking the glasses and putting them down on the table. “Probably best to wait for those to kick in first before doing any more though.”

You smile and nod as you lean back into the sofa, a small buzz slowly flowing from the tip of your head down through the rest of your body. Peter moves the mostly empty pizza box out the way before leaning back and getting comfortable himself. He reaches an arm out to encourage you to cuddle yourself into his side and you do with a smile playing at the corners of your mouth.

You tilt your head to look up at him, his eyes don’t break from the TV. You reach up to press a kiss against his cheek. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For this.” you say gesturing to the pizza, movie and company. “For not being judgemental.” you finish, referring to the vodka bottle on the table.

“You’ve had a hard day.” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple in return. “We all have our vices for hard days.”

“Really?” you question, leaning your head back with a mischievous look on your face to observe him better.

“Yes,” he says with an eye roll.

“What’s yours?” you say, pressing him further.

“Oh no I can’t tell you that.” he says with a head shake. His eyes become fixed to the TV again for a moment. You don’t stop staring at him though as you wait. “What!?” he squirms as his eyes fall back to yours.

“Is it something weird?” you question, your eyes trying to see through into his brain and pluck the answer out without him having to say it. He remains silent as you begin to guess. “Let me guess it’s a sex thing isn’t it?”

“No, no.” he objects but the way he squirms has you thinking otherwise.

Before you have a chance to press him further though the front door opens and Kate’s voice calls out into the apartment. “HELLO?!”

“HI.” you call back, your eyes still not leaving Peter’s.

“Oh hi.” Kate says from behind you as she realises you have company.

“Hi.” Peter greets her with a small wave.

“Ummm I’ve been trying to message you all afternoon and ask how this afternoon went?” she asks you innocently.

You roll your eyes and slump back into the cushions with a groan.

“That bad huh?” she says reaching for the vodka bottle and one of the glasses off the table and pouring herself one. “Looks like I need to catch up with the mood for the evening then.”

You take one look at Peter, who is almost staring at Kate as she takes the shot, and an idea comes into your head.

“Is there anything to eat?” Kate asks as she puts down the shot glass before shedding herself from her jacket and walking to the kitchen. You keep your eyes on Peter as his gaze follows her from the room.

“There’s a couple slices of pizza left.” you shout her way.

“Nah I had pizza for lunch.” she calls back.

Peter’s attention turns back to the movie, which has almost finished.

“I’ll be back.” you say quietly to him as you use his thigh to push yourself off the sofa. He flashes you a quick smile before he turns back to the film.

“What do you think of Peter?.” you ask Kate in a hushed voice as you enter the kitchen. She’s pulled down a half full bag of chips from one of the cupboards and is snacking on them.

“He’s cute.” she says with food in her mouth. “Why?” It takes her a moment, but the cogs finally start falling into place. You watch as her expression changes with realisation and she coughs as she almost chokes on the mouthful of potato chips. She begins shaking her head at you as she tries to swallow the food.

“Oh come on, please? It’s not like we haven’t done it before. I’ve had a hard day and really just want to have some fun and blow off some steam.” She is silent as she contemplates the offer you’re putting on the table. “Look you couldn’t get hold of me on my phone because I got caught up in all that shit at the bridge this morning and lost it, then I was late for the conference, and don’t even get me started on how that went.” you ramble as you try to explain and twist her arm. “I mean come on, when was the last time you got laid?”

She rolls her eyes as she slams the bag of chips down on the kitchen side. She then creeps towards the kitchen door to peer around the frame to get another look at Peter. “He’s really good at it.” you whisper into her ear.

“It?” she mocks you like you’re a child unable to use words properly.

“Oh come on, you know what I mean.” you sass back almost stomping your foot and playing into her joke that you are a child even more. “Please…” you beg.

“How do you know that’s what he wants?” she asks as she moves back across the kitchen to continue munching on the bag of potato chips.

You hold up a silent finger to her before rushing back out into the living room. “Yo Parker,” you say loudly across the room to him to get his attention, “threesome, my room, you me and Kate, you in?” he’s taken aback for a moment by the sudden outburst.

“Um, uh” you watch him shuffle in his seat on the couch as he looks between you and Kate, who has poked her head out of the kitchen doorway, “uh yeah, Yeah.” he repeats the word with more conviction.

You turn your head in Kate’s direction with eyebrows raised in a look that says ‘see’.

“Fine.” she concedes as she dramatically drops the bag of chips on the dining room table. You smile at her as you take her hand and begin to lead her to your bedroom.

“You coming Parker?” you call out to him where he is frozen in disbelief on the sofa.

“Yup, Yes.” he nervously shoots out as he rushes to follow, almost walking into the coffee table.

You pull Kate around you as you enter the bedroom, a half giggle, half squeal falling from her mouth as her body jolts with the momentum and she comes to a stop in front of you.

You waste no time in pulling her towards you, your hand pushing her long dark hair out of the way, as you bring her soft lips to yours. They are familiar and warm and neither of you waste time feeling shy, both happy to deepen the kiss as your hands begin to trail up and down each other's arms and bodies.

The first time you and Kate had kissed was at a bar when some guy kept trying to push himself up against you. Kate acted as your saviour pretending she was your girlfriend to get him to go away; but you were both drunk and one kiss led to another kiss and then another, until you had both ended up in your bed at the end of the night. They say everyone has an experimental phase in their early 20s when they go to college and although you know you have a preference for dating guys (unsure if that’s just because the societal norm is easier and pretty girls are intimidating or you are indeed straight), you still love spending time exploring your best friend’s body every now and again.

Peter watches frozen from the doorway as you slide Kate’s purple flannel shirt down her arms, it dropping to the floor at her feet. Kate unbuttons the first few buttons on your shirt before pulling it over your head and dropping it to the floor. Your hands grip onto her hips, thumbs ghosting underneath her t-shirt as you lean in to nuzzle at her neck. You can feel her eyes boring into Peter’s over your head, challenging him to come and stake his claim on you but he remains frozen in shock at the turn of events.

Your lips snake back up Kate’s neck and along her jaw to capture her lips in yours again, your tongue dipping freely between her parted lips. The sensation of the tip of her tongue against yours sends shivers through your body and excitement to flutter down between your legs. Your fingers grip the hem of her t-shirt and begin to lift it up her body and over her head. As soon as it's above her head she’s pulling your lips back to her’s. She pulls her arms forcefully from the arm holes before throwing the shirt at Peter. It’s the action he needs to get him moving as his reflexes kick in to catch it.

Kate turns you around so you’re facing Peter as he begins stalking across the room to you both. Kate’s breasts push firmly against your back as she leans over your shoulder to start nibbling at your neck, her hands keeping a tight hold of your hips, pulling your ass back firmly against her body.

Your hands reach out for Peter as he gets closer, your fingers hooking into the belt loops of his jeans and pulling him to you. You tilt your head to look up at him as he comes to loom over you, his eyes dark and heated. Kate nips playfully at your neck and your lips part with a gasp but Peter’s lips are suddenly on yours, swallowing the moan with his own mouth. Kate feels you tremble beneath her fingers at the move and smirks into your neck.

Your fingers blindly fumble with the belt, button and zip on Peter’s jeans as his tongue licks into your mouth. He parts from you to lift his shirt over his head as you begin to pull his jeans down, exposing his boxer briefs and the semi growing within them. Kate’s thumbs hook into your leggings and she crouches as she pulls them down, her teeth grazing your ass cheeks through your underwear as you step out of the pooled fabric at your ankles.

Peter’s hands cup either side of your face as he hungrily pulls your lips back to his and you moan against his mouth. Your arm reaches behind you for Kate, pulling her back to a stand. You break your lips away from Peter. You watch him closely as he looks between you and Kate before he leans in to kiss her over your shoulder. You watch with a smirk of satisfaction.

Your hand reaches below the waistband of his underwear, wrapping around his length and pumping it a few times, feeling it grow in your soft grasp. Peter breaks his lips away from Kate to look at you. It feels so intimate in an otherwise very exposing moment.

Kate takes a step back from the two of you to shed herself of her own jeans as you use one hand to push Peter back onto the bed. His legs part, his hands reaching to pull you to stand between them. His doe eyes look up at you, his fingertips brushing against the bare skin of your thighs. It’s a look that says ‘thank you for this opportunity but you are still my main priority’. You smile to yourself as you lean down to kiss him. You struggle to make your lips relax in your giddiness making the kiss all tight lipped and toothy as you end up nuzzling your nose against his.

“Just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.” he says to you, as Kate flops onto the bed in her underwear beside him.

He watches you closely as you look from him to her and back again. You beckon her closer to you and you lean across him to place a kiss against her lips again, your fingers combing into the hair at the base of her neck to pull her in to you.

You break the kiss to look back at Peter. “I want you to show her what you can do with that expert tongue of yours.” you say to him, your eyes heavy and sultry. He bolsters in confidence at your words giving Kate a look to silently check and ask if that’s okay. “I promise she tastes good.” you say, your eyebrows raising at Kate, boosting her own confidence too, not that she needs it.

You take Peter’s chin between thumb and forefinger, to turn his head back to you so you can kiss him again. Kate begins taking off her underwear as you begin to push Peter’s chest so that he is laying back on the bed. You begin to trail kisses down his chest as his hands reach out to wrap around Kate’s legs as she moves to straddle his face. His stomach twitches underneath your lips as they continue to trickle a trail of kisses down to the waistband of his boxers.

You lift your head to watch Kate’s head fall back and a moan escape her lips as Peter begins to lick into her folds. “Mmm yeah.” she moans as his tongue flicks over her clit, sucking it between his lips.

He feels twitchy beneath you as you begin to pull down the waistband of his underwear, his cock springing free the moment it has the space to. You nibble your lower lip at the sight as he shifts his hips to help you take the garment off of him, your fingers ripping the fabric down his legs and tossing it blindly behind you.

Your fingers rake back up his legs as you settle yourself between them. With his head nestled between Kate’s legs, eyes closed, ears muffled, it only heightens his other senses more. He involuntarily feels himself squirm under your touch and he has to grip tighter onto Kate’s thighs to keep her sex in place over his tongue.

“Oh fuck.” Kate moans again at the change of pressure on her clit and she reaches a hand down between her legs, tangling her fingers in Peter’s hair.

You take his hardened length in your fingers, giving him a few pumps, before you take his length into your mouth. You hear him grunt into Kate’s pussy in satisfaction as his hips thrust up, pushing his length further into your mouth, making him hit the back of your throat.

You gasp for air as you remove his cock from your mouth, fingers twisting and pumping his length. Your tongue reaches out to lick a stripe up the side of him from base to tip, your tongue swirling around the top, before you put his full length back inside. You hollow out your cheeks beginning to bob up and down.

You can hear Kate’s breathy pants and noises coming quicker now, Peter wanting to bring her to a finish as quick as possible, so he could move and start giving you some attention in return. He reaches one of his hands down to rest on the back of your head, guiding you slowly as to not break his concentration.

“Oh Fuck! Yes! Yes! Yes!” Kate’s pants out loudly into the room as her legs begin to shake her finish coming over her. Her hands reach for stability on the bed as she continues to grind her sex against Peter’s tongue riding out her high.

When she is done she collapses onto her side on the mattress and Peter is quick to wriggle free of her legs, lifting your head off of his cock in the process. He smashes his mouth into yours as he pulls you up from the floor between his legs. His tongue licks lavishly into your mouth as he comes to a stand. You break the kiss to turn towards Kate.

“You were right.” she says as she wriggles up the bed to lie between the pillows at the top of the bed. “He is really good at that.”

“I know right.” you giggle as you climb onto the bed. You crawl up the bed towards her on all fours, your mouth coming up to connect with hers in a gentle kiss as Peter stands watching, giving his length a few gentle pulls.

You move from Kate’s lips, kissing down her neck, your fingers moving her hair away and pulling her bra straps down as you continue to leave a trail of kisses down her chest. Your hands move to paw at her boobs through her bra. She shifts, her hand reaching around her back to unclasp the last item of clothing she’s wearing. You move back to kissing her lips while you wait for the restrictive item to be removed. As soon as it’s out of the way you quickly take her breast back into your mouth, tongue licking, swirling and sucking at her nipples.

Peter continues to watch, pulling softly on his cock as he moves to the bedside table to where he knows you keep a box of condoms. He takes out one of the foil packets and moves quietly back around the bed, continuing to watch you and Kate.

Kate watches as Peter rolls the condom down onto his length, taking in his impressive size. She tangles her fingers into your hair pulling you away from her breasts and your mouth back to hers as she gets an idea. She breaks away from you, flipping herself around so her head is laying at the opposite end of the bed.

She shifts herself underneath you, your legs straddling her face. Her soft fingers wrap around your thighs as she guides your pussy towards her mouth. You let out a sigh as her tongue reaches to lick a gentle stripe along your folds, opening them up to her. She circles the tip of her tongue around your clit before sucking it between her lips. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth as you hum in satisfaction, your head relaxing forward between your shoulders.

From this view you can see how her pussy glistens below you and you can’t help reaching for a taste. You feel her moan against your own cunt as your tongue makes contact with hers. She tastes sweet and you can’t help but adjust yourself, your head falling deeper between her legs as you lap at her juices.

Kate’s eyes glance up to Peter from between your legs. Her eyebrows lift suggestively, encouraging him to step forward. You feel Kate’s hands shift on your hips lifting your ass further into the air slightly. It’s only when you feel him press his cock gentle against your folds that you understand why. Kate pauses her ministration on your cunt with her mouth as Peter slowly eases himself inside.

You pull your lips away from her sex, eyes closing as you arch your back, feeling Peter’s cock push slowly inside you hitting every sensitive spot along the way. He pauses a moment to allow you to adjust and that’s when you feel Kate’s tongue reach out to tickle at your clit. You moan at the feeling, a small “ahh yes” falling from your lips.

Kate holds her tongue out as Peter begins to move, allowing his momentum as he begins to pump his length in and out of your wet cunt to help her lick your entrance, giving her contact with both your clit and his length.

“Uh fuck.” Peter grunts as Kate adjusts her head to also lick at his balls as he moves back and forth.

“Oh yeah, just like that.” you moan as your head relaxes, your tongue darting out to lick at the entrance of Kate’s pussy again. She moans and it vibrates your cunt and Peter’s cock.

“You two are gonna kill me if you keep that up.” Peter cautions.

You lift your head to look at him over your shoulder, a smile plastered on your face. “Come on Parker, show us what you’ve got.” you tease. He begins snapping his hips faster with the encouraging statement.

“Oh fuck, fuck, right there.” you say, closing your eyes as your hips begin to rut back into him.

Kate takes her mouth away from your entrance, instead reaching her hand between your legs to circle your clit with her fingers. “Oh my god, fuck!” you shout as your pussy begins to clamp down on Peter.

“So fucking tight.” Peter grunts. “Come on baby, I want you to come all over her face.” he says as his confidence begins to grow even more. He reaches a gentle hand out to Kate’s face between your legs. “Stick your tongue out.” he encourages her, his thumb pushing her jaw open.

You are so close to your orgasm dropping and Peter can feel it. “Oh my god, fuck I’m gonna come.” you moan.

“Come on baby just like that.” he encourages you as he feels you tighten around his cock. “Ready?” he asks Kate and she nods enthusiastically.

She reaches her fingers up to rub frantically at your clit and it sends you over the edge. Peter quickly pulls out and Kate pulls your hips down into her face, her tongue lapping at your fluttering cunt. “Ah Oh FUCK!” you cry out.

Peter smiles to himself as he watches you come undone on her face. He lazily pumps his length as he crouches at the side of the bed to get a closer look.

Kate sucks your sensitive clit between her mouth and it’s enough to make you jump off of her. “Ah fuck no.” you say as you collapse onto the bed beside her, your thighs rubbing against each other, attempting to ride out the over sensitive feeling between them.

Kate smiles and giggles at you, reaching to grab your ankle so she can place a soft and tentative kiss on your calf. She sits herself up onto her knees and Peter reaches over to kiss your cum off of her lips, licking into her mouth to get as much of the taste of your cunt from it as possible.

She grabs his shoulders and pulls him back down onto the bed on top of her, her hand reaching for his cock. They shuffle up together onto the bed before she lines him up with her entrance. You turn yourself to lie down next to her to watch, your hand reaching out to rub at her breasts and pinch her nipples.

Her back arches, head tilting back as he pushes inside her. You reach your mouth to capture her lips into yours. Peter slowly begins thrusting into her, his thumb rubbing slow lazy circles over Kate’s clit. She moans eagerly against your lips, her eyes scrunching.

Peter’s thrusts are slow and long as he rubs against all the sensitive spots inside Kate’s pussy. She breaks away from your lips, her chin resting against her chest watching Peter's cock disappear inside her as she pants and moans. “Oh yeah.” she whines, as your lips reach to nuzzle into her neck.

You part your legs, your fingers playing with the entrance of your pussy. You feel a hand reach out and playfully slap at your thigh. You pull your mouth away from Kate’s neck to look at Peter. His hand reaches out for better purchase on your leg, pulling you down the bed towards him. He swats your hand away from your cunt, his fingers reaching out to penetrate your entrance. You hear Kate moan beside you as he continues to thrust inside her but you don’t dare take your eyes off of him.

“Peter.” you moan, as his fingers twist inside you, curling inwards in a come hither motion.

“I know baby.” he coos to you softly. “I know.”

“Ah fuck.” Kate cries as Peter thrusts into her with an extra sharpness, hitting a new spot and breaking the moment between you.

You break your gaze from him, licking your lips as you turn to lightly kiss Kate’s sensitive skin. She moans, reaching out for you. You stretch up to reach her mouth as Peter continues to slide his fingers in and out of your wet pussy, his thumb rubbing circles against your clit. You moan freely into Kate’s mouth, your hands reaching to cup her face.

Peter can feel Kate’s walls squeezing him, her legs shifting, that coil deep in her belly growing tighter. He reluctantly removes his fingers from you, grasping her thighs and setting in a wicked pace. Kate’s mouth falls from yours as her head falls back into the bed, succumbing to Peter’s rapid thrusts. You roll yourself over, mouth latching onto her breast, teeth grazing her nipples making her moan and body tense and squirm.

“Come here.” Peter encourages you, his hands reaching to get you to move your body on top of Kate’s. He gives your ass a playful smack as you position it in front of him as your mouth goes back to kissing a trail across Kate’s chest.

Kate shifts, her own hand reaching between your bodys to rub circles on her clit chasing her orgasm until it crashes. You watch closely as her mouth falls open, a guttural moan ripping from her throat. Peter thrusts into her a few more times, helping her ride out her high before he’s pulling out of her completely. You watch over your shoulder as he shifts slightly and slips himself inside you. You moan at the feeling of his cock filling you again.

Your breasts hang enticingly in front of Kate and she lifts her head to suck one into her mouth. “Oh god yeah.” you moan, your head snapping back to Kate. You place a hand to the side of her face, tilting her face up to kiss you and feel another playful tap to your ass.

“You both are so pretty. Look so good when you kiss each other like that.” Peter says.

You whine indignantly as you feel his cock leave you again, your pussy fluttering around nothing. He lines himself back up with Kate again and thrusts inside her a few times before returning back to you again.

“Oh you both feel so good.” he says as he continues to keep dipping back and forth between you and Kate.

Kate watches your face closely, her hands clasped either side of your face. She watches how your eyebrows furrow frustrated every time he removes himself from you just as he’s hitting the right spot inside you, teasing you. She watches as you nibble on your lip and she leans up to capture it with her own, her tongue soothing the irritated flesh. He’s in just the right spot that he’s edging you and the next time he does it elicits a frustrated groan to fall from your mouth, your head burying in Kate’s neck to hide the tears that threaten the corners of your eyes.

“Parker, stop teasing her.” Kate’s voice comes out strong and threatening, her hands brushing against your sides soothingly. “Come here Cherry.” she says as she rolls you.

She lays you on your back on the bed, a hand reaching for a pillow to cradle your head. “Fuck her nicely Parker.” she says as she encourages him to take the space inbetween your open legs. She kisses you tenderly as Peter lines himself back up with your entrance again.

The new position makes him rub excruciatingly against those sensitive spots inside you he’s already worked up inside you. You whimper with the sensitivity and it makes him feel bad. Kate moves herself out the way for Peter to lean forward and capture your lips with his. It’s a soft and tender apology. “I’m sorry, I’ve got you, I promise.” he coos into your lips, willing you to relax.

His hips move lazily as he fucks up into you, trying to ease all that tension he’d created.

Seeing the energy change between you and Peter, Kate leans down to whisper in your ear. “I’ll leave you both to it.”

She quietly shifts herself off the bed and collects her things from the floor before creeping out the bedroom and padding barefoot down to the bathroom.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” Peter coos as he looks down into your eyes.

He runs a hand down the back of your thigh, bending it more at the knee and pushing your legs further open. You moan, your head pushing deeper into the pillow as he fucks into you deeper.

“You’re so good to me.” he continues to praise you as his head falls into the crook of your neck, his lips trailing kisses across the skin.

“Uh, you feel so good.” you reply breathlessly.

“Harder.” you say tentatively after a pause. “Please Peter.”

“Oh god.” he growls into your neck in satisfaction.

He leans himself back, his hips snapping faster, thumb moving to rub furiously over your clit. You can feel yourself getting close, the lower muscles of your body pulling tight. “Come on baby, cum for me.” Peter pants, his stamina really being put to the test now as he holds on tight, stopping himself from coming too early. “Please baby please.” he almost begs.

Your hands reach up to cup either side of his face, forcing him to look at you. Your mouth hangs open, just millimetres away from his lips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” you cry on the edge, his forehead pushing against yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him tight to you as you feel the wave of your orgasm taking over you as you cry out, small tears pooling in the corners of your eyes at the sensitivity, as he continues to plough into you; faster harder now, chasing his own high.

“Come for me Peter.” you pant into his mouth, eyes closed as you fight the sensitivity between your legs to allow him to finish. But he doesn’t finish. His arms wrap around you as he pulls you close to him, sitting you both upright so you sit nice and tight on his cock in his lap.

“Ahh Peter.” you squeal with the movement, your arms holding round his neck tighter, your head pressing into his neck, breathing in the comforting scent of him as he continues to grind you up and down on his length.

It’s slow and sensual and makes your clit rub against his stomach muscles, but it’s what he needs to keep you on the edge so you can go over the top with him. His hands reach for your head, forcing you to look in his eyes. “You’re doing so well for me baby, just a little bit more. Just a little bit more.”

He holds you tight, looking deep into your eyes, as your fingers tangle into the unruly hairs at the base of his skull. “I want you to forget about all the bad things that happened today. I’ve got you.” he breathes into you, “I’ve always got you.”

He uses his thumb to wipe at a long tear that escapes from the corner of your eye, kissing the skin better in an attempt to fully erase it. “I’ve got you.” he says again.

“Peter.” you moan breathlessly in just the way he loves hearing you say his name.

“Say it again baby.”

“Peter.”

You feel his hips stutter underneath you before they still. He holds you close, his eyes boring into yours as his cock twitches within you, his seed spilling into the condom inside you. You crash your lips into his in relief. His hands brush soothingly over your hair as his lips melt against yours. “I’ve got you.” he whispers again reassuringly against your lips.

It all becomes too much, too emotional for your sensitive body and your tears begin to flow freely as he holds you close to his chest. “I’ve got you.” he continues to whisper into your hair as you finally let it all out.

-----------

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strawwritesfic · 7 months

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Avengers Guys Taking Care of You When You're Sick Imagines

Hello! I caught some sort of very fun disease doing work-related things last weekend, so I came up with these imagines! I thought I'd post them for funises and because making you think of the dialogue yourself is way easier when there's very little oxygen entering my brain.

Disclaimer: I don't really do imagines, so I'm not even 100% sure that's what these are. They might just be headcanons? Listen, man, I'm an old person on the Internet. I don't know what I'm doing.

Also, I wrote these starting in the middle of the night after having only eaten marginally for three straight days and sleeping about a total of two hours over the course of 48 hours. Also, I didn't proofread them on account of the cinderblock shoved up my nose being very distracting. (But if there's something wrong, do feel free to bring it to my attention, and I will change it.)

Pretend these are in a world where COVID isn't a concern. I didn't feel like dealing with masking and isolation.

Let me know if you'd like to see later phases or groups!

EDIT: I forgot Clint. I blame the cinderblock. He's been added.

Enjoy!

Tony Stark

Let's face it. This guy is not in any position to play nurse. He hardly knows how to take care of himself; you're a different person entirely! Plus, he's not exactly into the idea of catching your cooties. Once you've got the ick, he is out of the bedroom and camping in his lab until you're no longer showing symptoms.

But that doesn't mean you're facing this alone. If this is before Pepper takes over Stark Industries as CEO, Tony's got her and Happy running around making sure you have anything you want--anything. More cold medicine? Done. A house call from your doctor? Called them 20 minutes ago; they're on their way. An authentic pizza directly from Italy? It's yours. If it's after, he will go get everything for you himself; it's just going to take a lot longer, and it'll probably take him five trips to actually get the right thing.

He won't leave you completely alone either. He'll call you up on one of the tablet phones and talk to (or at) you for hours. Heck, if you're bored, he might even set it up so you can watch him tinker on the suits from bed.

James Rhodes

You don't want Rhodey to find out you're sick. He's a busy guy, whether he's working with the Air Force or the Avengers. But he's gonna find out. Maybe he isn't able to call you as often as he'd like, but as soon as he makes contact, he's going to know you're sick from the word "hello."

He hates that you're often sick when he's quite literally half a world away. He doesn't want you to deal with your illness alone--and you won't. If he's still working primarily at the Air Force, you're on base with loads of fellow military officers and their spouses, and soon you've got more casseroles than you know what to do with. If he's with the Avengers, things are a little trickier. He can't ask Dr. Cho to fly in from Korea for a cough, and it's not like FRIDAY can answer the door for Uber Eats. Pepper and Tony aren't going to let one of their best friend's SO suffer, though! They love you, too. One or both of them is going to make sure you've got a house call from a doctor very soon.

As soon as Rhodey is off work, he's back with you. He'll cook dinner--something healthy that he knows you like. Then you'll both head to the couch or bed, snuggle up under a big blanket, and watch old movies until you fall asleep beside him.

Thor Odinson

Asgardians don't get run-of-the-mill illnesses, and any illness they do get is way more spectacular than what Midgardians deal with. Because of this, Thor finds your run-of-the-mill illness fascinating. Like, almost annoyingly so. Although he's fine to leave you to go on missions or the like, he is otherwise right there with you, delighting in every cough, sniffle and sneeze. If anyone on the team points out that you're, you know, sick, Thor is quick to remind them how incredibly tough his SO is. He knows you'll pull through!

Still, he doesn't want you to feel awful, so he's going to seek out advice on what he can do to help you. The results that come from this depend on who Thor decided to ask. Dr. Strange? Probably earn you some decent medications and/or treatments, even if Thor isn't 100% sure exactly how to use them. Loki? Then you're probably going to end up with Thor trying a dozen different things that don't make you feel worse but definitely don't make you feel better either. Hey, Loki's got no vested interest in helping out his brother's SO.

At the end of the day, at least you won't be left alone very often, and there is something endearing about a guy who thinks it's cute when you're so full of snot you can't think.

Loki Laufeyson

Loki is a much less...obtrusive companion than his brother is. Sick Midgardians are boring. They just lay around all day, producing the most horrible liquids from every part of them. He's got better things to do than sit around all day watching that...

...is what he wants everyone to think. He knows you don't like be smothered either. So Loki does go about his day as usual for the most part, but that doesn't mean he isn't checking in quite regularly. He'll slip into your room every few hours or so just to make sure you're resting. He won't wake you if you are. And the things you need have a funny way of appearing on your bedside table whenever you wake up: the remote control, a container of hot tea, even clean pajamas if you aren't feeling capable of walking to the bathroom for a shower.

But just because you don't like being smothered doesn't mean you want to be alone the entire time. Loki knows that. He's probably not going to crawl into bed next to someone who is coughing and sneezing and already warmer than they want to be, but he's perfectly content to pull a comfortable chair over to your bedside and sleep there. And when you get bored of watching TV or just need something quiet to fall asleep to, he's always happy to read aloud to you from whatever book he's reading.

Steve Rogers

Steve may no longer have the ability to get sick, but he remembers being sick when he was skinny, and he knows it's no fun. He also remembers the things that Bucky did for him that helped, and he'll try all of that on you. This leads to a bit of quarreling when Tony reminds him that they live in the 21st Century and have better ways of helping people with sore throats and coughing. But Steve eventually relents, and you get a good combination of things that make you feel better.

He's good at compartmentalizing, so he can put worrying about you aside when he needs to lead the team. The second they don't need him anymore, you're back at the forefront of his mind, and he's headed right to wherever you are. Even if you don't need anything he can provide you, he wants to make sure you're okay.

Since Steve doesn't get sick, he's 100% ready to cuddle. This is great when you have chills, and not so great when you're having hot flashes. He respects you if you ask him to please get the hell out of the bed. He lets you rest when you need rest, and is perfectly happy to just hang out in the room with you, quietly drawing in his notebook so he's there if you do need him.

Bucky Barnes

If Steve remembers getting sick, Bucky remembers being the one to take care of Steve when he was sick (after Steve's mom died). He does not handle seeing you sick well. At all. He cannot stop worrying about you at all. Never mind that all you've got is a stuffy nose and a cough, he's pretty much convinced that you are going to die on him any minute.

He's very reluctant to leave your side when you're sick. Even if there's some world ending-crisis that the team needs him for, he'd rather stay with you. Oh, he'll go to help with the world-ending crisis, but he's going to be thinking about you the entire time. Everybody on comms is going to get real tired of him using any downtime to wonder aloud if this will make [Name] feel better.

If you're lucky, Natasha or Sam or Steve might take pity on you and insist that Bucky take some time away and quit worrying so much. But unless they take him on outing to get you something (food, flowers, medicine, etc.), he's not going to want to go. Unless he's directly looking at you and confirming that you're okay himself, he's just not going to be able to settle. Until your fever breaks, don't expect Bucky to leave your side for very long, if at all.

Clint is a very normal guy wen it comes to his SO being sick. He's not too pushy or too distant. When you wake up with a sore throat, he makes you a cup of hot water with lemon juice in it, brings you a small breakfast in bed, and checks the medicine cabinet before he leaves for work. If there's anything you're low on, he'll make sure to pick it up on the way home. He'll call you at lunchtime to check on you, and if you say you need anything then, he'll pick that up on the way home, too.

If he has to go far away for work, of course Natasha is there to run errands and check on you. And if they're working together far away, you might get a very rare, very strange visit from Director Fury delivering cough syrup. Coulson pops by, too. Clint's got a pretty big support network willing to fill in any gaps he can't when he's working.

When he's at home, Clint mostly leaves you alone. He knows you need rest. There's plenty of work for him to do around the place anyway. But whenever he takes a break, he'll pop into the bedroom and ask you if you need anything if you're awake. He's always quick to tell the streaming service you're still watching, too, just so it's still going when you wake up. And he buys loads of your favorite takeout to tempt you to eat.

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estelior · 5 months

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Without You Here, We Are A Worse Version Of Who We’ve Been

Fic by: @endlesstwanted (endlesstwanted on AO3)

Art by: @estelior (Estelior on AO3)

For @buckybarnesevents ShrinkyClinksDoubleBang2023 💙

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes, James "Bucky" Barnes & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Rating: Teen and up

Word count: 11k

Tags: Shrinkyclinks, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Roommates, Domestic, Physical Therapy, Gyms, First Meetings, Trust, Hair Braiding, Training, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Heart-to-Heart, Flirting, Pining, Families of Choice, Meddling, Blind Date, First Kiss, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Canon Disabled Character, Long-Haired Bucky Barnes, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Therapist Steve Rogers, Minor James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson, POV Bucky Barnes, Inspired by Art, Embedded Images

Summary:

Bucky has to plan how to do his physical therapy when, by chance, he finds therapist and gym owner Steve’s videos on YouTube. Located two blocks away and encouraged by his roommate, Bucky goes and meets Steve, gets the help he didn’t know he needed, and a couple of things more in the way.

Read on A03

Thank you so much @endlesstwanted for choosing my art! All of your ideas for the story were so good, I can't even imagine how you've chosen the final variant! 💙

#stucky #stevebucky #shrinkyclinks #shrinkyclinksdoublebang2023

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draguta · 1 year

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.fairytale of new york | three.

pairing: professor!bucky x fem!reader

summary: a semester in new york. a handsome man in a bar. whiskey neat. to the lighthouse. christmas lights. this is the tale of a whirlwind romance. a forbidden fairytale. college au.

chapter word count: 3532

warnings: smut, 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex, age gap (reader 19, bucky 34), student/teacher relationship

a/n: not me adding in a little smut based on one of my actual fantasies (sex in a library honestly sounds like a dream to me).

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Bucky

Bucky was in an impossible position. His career had always been the most important thing to him, that was why he hadn’t had a relationship in nearly six years. It was the only thing he had ever focused on, always telling himself that everything else can wait. There had never been a point where he’d ever questioned his priority before. But now? Now he had a problem.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. The girl that had fallen into his lap when he had least expected it. The way that their encounter had occurred, the way that the coincidences seemed to simply pile up, made him think that it was something more. He felt drawn to her in a way that he’d never had with any other girl before. Her words spoken in the bar that very first night played on a loop in his brain during his waking hours, and the sight of her face as he brought her to finish on his tongue haunted his dreams each night.

He tried not to think about her, tried to avoid her. He kept himself distracted with work, with his colleagues, but every time he received a piece of work with her name written at the top in curled cursive letters, his mind snapped back to those memories.

He really was in trouble, but not in the way that he had originally thought. Not because there was the chance of them getting caught, but instead because he actually wanted to get to know her. Because he could see himself reading late at night with her cuddled up to his side. Because he could imagine waking her up in the morning with a kiss, making pancakes for her whilst she sat on the counter beside him with a cup of coffee, wearing his t-shirt from the night before.

It made no sense; he barely knew this girl. Sure, they’d had two incredible moments of intimacy together, moments that he would cherish, but he didn’t really know anything about her, besides the fact that she liked to read and that she wanted to be a writer some day. How could he possibly be feeling something for her already, even if it was miniscule.

“James.” The voice pulled Bucky out of his thoughts, and as he glanced up from his morning coffee he found Rhodey, one of the professors that worked under him in the English Department, taking a seat at the table that Bucky had found himself at during his lunch break.

“Rhodey,” he smiled. “Sorry, I was in my own little world there. What can I help you with?”

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Rhodey explained. “Do you have a student named Y/N?”

Y/N

Days passed by, which quickly turned into weeks. You found yourself getting into the swing of college, the nerves that you had felt upon first arriving now long gone. You had finally met all of your roommates, from the quiet and slightly moody MJ who was studying Biology, eccentric and slightly clumsy Kate who was studying Art, and finally Shuri, who had an incredible mind according to her professor, Professor Stark, Head of Physics.

Ever since that moment in Bucky’s office so many weeks ago you had kept your distance from him. You often found yourself sitting at the very back of the lecture hall for your three lectures per week, hid behind your laptop refusing to make eye contact, and went to Professor Rhodes, another professor in the English department if you had any questions about the material. Whilst Professor Rhodes seemed rather confused as to why you would go to him and not your own professor, he was always happy to help.

You were doing well in your classes, and had become close with Yelena and Wanda, who still remained your favourite people on campus. You did everything that you could to distract yourself from him, but nothing seemed to quell the aching that you had for him. It was like nothing you had experienced for a man before, and there ultimately seemed to be no stopping it.

When you had seen him in line at a coffee shop near campus one afternoon you had rushed out of the door without him even seeing you, trying desperately to swallow down the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. You’d caught him one morning outside of the lecture hall laughing happily with a red-headed professor, one that you recognized from Kate’s course brochure as the head of the Art department, Professor Romanoff. He had his head swung back in raucous laughter at something she had said, and you couldn’t ignore the pang of jealousy that rang through your chest at the sight. You had rushed home and emailed in sick that day.

No problem, Y/N. Are you ok? Do you need anything? Let me know - Bucky.

That had been the only correspondence you’d had with him since that day in his office. He had signed it Bucky, an email from his work address, and a small moment of panic came to you, but passed quickly when you double checked and realised that he had replied from his personal account instead.

Around three days after that you found yourself in the school library. Professor Rhodes had suggested the day before that an extracurricular analysis of one of your favourite books was a great way to hone your skills, so you had taken his advice and begun work on it. He had advised handing it into ‘Professor Barnes’ for extra credit but you couldn’t bear the thought of having to speak to him face-to-face again, even if you knew that it would happen eventually.

‘To the Lighthouse’ is Woolf’s most autobiographical work of fiction, drawing on her own childhood and family experiences in the 1890s and early 1900s.

You wrote quickly and carefully, your fingers running over the keys of your laptop as if it were muscle memory. ‘To the Lighthouse’ your favourite book, the copy on the table beside you the same one you’d had since a child, filled with annotations and highlights.

Note that the title, ‘To the Lighthouse’ could suggest a journey steadily progressing towards an end goal, but what the novel actually gives us is a narrative in which that journey ‘to the lighthouse’ is delayed until the end of the novel.

You took a sip of your tea, still hot from the shop on the corner of campus, checking back to the book to compare your notes to your analysis. It was dark in the library, late in the evening, and quiet, with few students still there studying due to the lateness of the hour. But this was where you were happiest, the most at peace.

In the final section, pointedly titled ‘The Lighthouse’, the preposition is dropped, but has the trip to the lighthouse really been achieved? It has, with the lighthouse simply resembling the goals that the children have for the future, not a tangible lighthouse to visit.

“Still working so late?”

It was a familiar voice that pulled you away from your work, away from the words of Virginia Woolf and back to reality. You swallowed but your throat was already dry from the thought of seeing him. Slowly you turned, coming face-to-face with Bucky. He was wearing a button-up shirt under a dark-blue blazer, a laptop bag draped over his shoulder, a pile of papers in his arms. He looked good - he always did.

“Just some extracurricular work,” you explained with a shrug. “Someone told me that it would be a good way to keep myself on track with my work, and maybe get some extra credit while I’m at it.”

He took a step forward, bringing a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “Would that someone be Professor Rhodes?”

He slowly moved forward again until he was standing beside you by the desk.

“How did you know about that?” You asked slowly, your thumbs fiddling with each other in your lap awkwardly, nervously.

“We work in the same department, Y/N. You think he wouldn’t tell me that one of my students has been going to him for advice instead of me?” He pointed out, and you had to admit it made a lot of sense. You opened your mouth to speak, but Bucky beat you to it. “I get it, I really do. And if that’s what you have to do to feel more…comfortable, then I’m ok with that.”

You frowned, taking in the words that he had just said, letting their meaning sink in. He thought that you were more comfortable around Professor Rhodes because of everything that had transpired between you and Bucky.

“You think you make me uncomfortable?” You asked slowly, looking up at him. He shuffled awkwardly before finally perching on the seat beside you, planting down the pile of papers in his hand on the desk.

“T-That’s not what I meant,” he stuttered. “But I would understand if you did.”

A light laugh echoed around the library, quickly followed by a ‘shush’ from the librarian at the front desk. Bucky looked at you with a deep frown, clearly thinking you were completely mad.

“I don’t feel uncomfortable around you Bucky,” you explained. You lowered your voice slightly for fear of being overheard, moving closer to him as you spoke. “I was just worried about you getting in trouble.”

It was Bucky’s turn to laugh, a beaming smile on his face. It was nice, knowing that his smile was because of you, not some red-headed professor. “You don’t need to worry about me, doll,” he beamed. “I can look after myself. Now, let me have a look at this analysis you’re working on.”

The two of you sat there for the next few hours, Bucky reading over your shoulder as you wrote, pointing out errors or sentences that he thought could be expanded on. Your mind drifted back to the very first day of your course, his very first rule.

“One: I am here to support you, not do your work for you. I will not push you to the right answer. If you don’t know the answer, listen and study.”

It didn’t seem as though he was following his own rule as the two of you sat in that library. He was giving you hints, edging you in the right direction, even leaning over your shoulder to rewrite an entire sentence for you, which you were certain was completely against the rules that he had created for his class. But you didn’t care. He was with you again, even if it was in an academic sense. You could smell his scent once more, now close enough for it to engulf you again, the paper, the ink, the sandalwood, tobacco, leather, the vanilla, each one filling your nostrils, almost making you forget about the paper entirely. He placed a hand on the small of your back, leaning closer as he discussed a comparison paragraph between two characters, and you could help but clench your thighs at the contact. What you didn’t realise was that Bucky had noticed it, and a small smirk began to play at his lips.

“Out of curiosity,” he said suddenly after a few hours, leaning forward in his seat and leaning against the desk, placing a hand on the cover of your novel. “Why did you choose ‘To the Lighthouse’?”

“I first read it back in middle school, and I found it fascinating how it completely steered away from all of the literature that I’d read before from the same era,” you explained with a shrug. “Woolf used her own personal memories to create a story that is so intimate and poetic, and I just thought that was incredible.”

Bucky nodded slowly, his eyebrows raised in thought. “That’s a very analytic take on it,” he said, looking at you pointedly. “But what is the personal connection?”

“What do you mean?” You asked, leaning back in your chair and taking a sip of your tea, now cold.

“From experience, when someone has a favourite book, it’s usually because there is some kind of personal connection,” he urged. “Something that makes that story, that book, so important to the person. So what’s yours?”

You paused, shooting him a small smile before looking down at the cup in your hands. “Do you really want to know?” You asked quietly, and from the corner of your eye you saw him nod firmly. “That copy there was my grandma’s. It was her favourite book when I was growing up, and she always talked about it. I never read it, but after she died I found her copy.”

You spared a glance in his direction, but he didn’t speak, sitting patiently waiting for you to continue.

“It was filled with annotations that she’d made, and when I read it for the first time, it brought back so many memories,” you explained. “Every time I reached a part that she had talked about, or a paragraph that she had quoted, it felt as though she was with me at that moment. I began adding my own annotations to the same copy, started re-reading it over and over again to get that feeling back. After a while, it simply became my go-to book, the one that I always pick over anything else.”

You looked over at him when you had finished and found that he was smiling at you. It was a soft smile, understanding and perhaps a little sympathetic, and it made those butterflies in your stomach flutter to life once more. You wanted to pull him towards you, to kiss him and tell him how difficult it was to stay away from him. But you knew that you couldn’t - it was too risky.

“You know, this is my favourite book too,” he said eventually, lifting up your copy and flicking through the pages carefully. “It was the very first book that I ever studied, the one that made me find my passion for English and for writing. I owe my entire career to this book.”

You’d never had a conversation like this with him before, but you found that you were actually enjoying it. It was nice to know that he was someone outside of your professor, that you had so much in common with him.

“Looks like I picked a good book to analyse then,” you smiled, turning back to your laptop, trying to push away the smile that was threatening to spread across your face.

He leans forward to look over your shoulder once more, but this time it’s not the small of your back that his hand goes to. Instead, it finds its way to your thigh, squeezing gently at the flesh there as if asking if it was ok. Slowly you dipped your hand under the table, glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one was looking, interlacing your fingers with yours.

He leaned in close to you, his voice low, his cheek brushing against your shoulder.

“You’re dangerous,” he whispered. “You have no idea what you do to me. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Turning your head slightly you realised just how close you were, close enough that you could smell the coffee on his breath, and if you moved forward even just a few centimetres your lips would be connected.

“If I’m dangerous,” you whispered back, blinking at him slowly. “Then you’re irresistible.”

He twirled his hand around in yours, playing with your fingers, glancing down at your hand intertwined with his before glancing back up at you. You knew what was running through his mind - it was running through yours as well. You nodded, and he smiled back at you, rising to his feet, his hand never leaving yours as he led you away from the desk, leaving your computer and papers behind. He let go of your hand for only a second as you passed by the front desk, with him calling a ‘hello Maria’ to the librarian, before grabbing it again as soon as the pair of you were out of sight. He led you to the corner of the room and up the metal spiral staircase in the corner, one that was rarely used, leading to the section for the older books.

“No one comes up here, don’t worry,” he explained as he pulled you down a corridor, finally finding an aisle to his satisfaction and pulling you down it.

Within a moment he had slammed you against the bookcase, his lips crushing against yours, his hands sliding down to your thighs to help hoist you into the air, your legs wrapping around his waist as if it were habit.

You both knew that you didn’t have long, and so as your hands trailed down to his belt buckle, he did the same, undoing the button of your jeans and hoisting them down your thighs as you pulled his suit pants down to his knees. He was inside you within an instant, and you both groaned at the sensation of being connected once again, his forehead falling to rest on your shoulder as your hand reached out to grab onto the shelves beside you for support.

He began to thrust upwards, rough and quick, his hips snapping against yours in perfect rhythm. His hand tugged at your hair, revealing your throat to him, and he took it upon himself to latch his lips onto the skin just below your jaw, sucking and biting, before kissing it sweetly to null the pain.

“Tell me why I can’t stay away from you?” He mumbled against your skin. “Why can’t I stop thinking about you?”

“Me too, Bucky,” you whispered, gasping as he readjusted your hips, meaning that he hit your spot perfectly. “T-Think about you all the time.”

His thrusts became faster, messier. The bookcase rattled behind you, books falling from the shelves with each movement, but neither of you cared. You were simply chasing your highs, edging closer and closer to the fall. You wanted to fall with him, to feel him finish with you, at the same time. You slid your hand down his arm, finding his hand on your thigh, tangling your fingers with his, sweaty hands clasped together as you got closer and closer to ecstasy together.

“Stay with me tonight.” It wasn’t a request or a question, it was a command. He was telling you that you were staying with him even if you didn’t want to. Little did he know that was exactly what you wanted. You wanted to fall asleep on his chest, your skin sticking together, his spend dripping out of you onto his sheets.

The coil in your stomach snapped at the thought, and you leant forward, your teeth digging into his shoulder slightly as you tried desperately to swallow your screams from the bliss that took over your entire body., causing him to hiss at the slight pain. He finished at the same time, just as you had hoped for, the hot seed filling you up, certain to be dripping down your legs on the way back downstairs. He cursed, mumbling your name against your shoulder as he finished, his hips slowing to a stop. You were able to see his face this time, his lips parted slightly, eyes closed as if he were seeing heaven itself. You had never seen a sight more perfect.

The pair of you stayed like that for a moment simply catching your breaths before he finally pulled away, helping you down from your perch on the bookshelf.

“Did you really mean it?” You asked, buttoning up your jeans and looking back over to him as he tucked his shirt back into his trousers.

“What?” He asked with a frown, satisfied with his shirt, and moving on to wipe the fog from his glasses on his sleeve.

“When you asked me to stay with you tonight,” you explained slowly. It was very possible that he had simply said it in the heat of the moment, passion providing clouded judgement. But he paused, looking at you as if you had just said something idiotic.

“Of course I meant it.” He moved closer, placing his hands on your arms, and you took his glasses from him, slowly sliding them back onto his nose with a smile as he looked down at you. “I meant everything that I said. I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s really becoming a problem.”

“So first I’m dangerous, and now I’m a problem,” you laughed, sliding your hands around his neck as he slipped his own around your waist. “I don’t know if I should be insulted, professor.”

Bucky groaned, his eyes squinting and his mouth curling into a smirk, and you raised your eyebrow at the view. “So, you like it when I call you professor, do you?” You asked, wearing a matching smirk. “I’ll have to remember that.”

You reached up onto your tiptoes, and planted a sweet and tender kiss to his lips, before the pair of you made your way back down the staircase, hand-in-hand.

| @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer | @moonlightreader649 |

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mostly-marvel-musings · 1 year

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Imagine Tony trying different beard styles until he finally settles on the goatee. And then he always asks what his girl thinks of it, if he looks handsome, if that beard style feels nice for her beard burn wise... oh and I'm sure she'd laugh at him if his beard looks too ridiculous. And Rhodes would totally join in to poke fun at Tony with her lol

Trial and error

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader & Rhodey makes an appearance.

Warning: 18+ smut themes? But full of fluff..

“How long is he been in there?”

“About half an hour, maybe more.”

You answered Rhodey and chuckled, hearing something clatter from inside the bathroom where your boyfriend was, shaving.

“I have a feeling this will either be really good or really bad.”

“I bet twenty it will be the latter.” Rhodey snickered.

“Possibly.” FRIDAY chimed in, even thought she was a bot, it sounded as if she too was enjoying herself.

Walking up to the door, you knocked on it twice and called him to make sure he was okay. A tiny crack open indicated he had let you in and you did, throwing a wink to your common friend.

“Tony what’s taking so long—” your sentence was cut short when you saw the man, clean shaven minus a moustache that made him look rather comical.

His eyes bored into yours for a reaction while you tried to keep your giggles at bay that threatened to escape. Covering your mouth with your hand, you blinked a couple of times and tried your best to form words.

“I—it’s different.” You managed.

“Good different?” He looked at his reflection before back at you with expectation.

“Umm..I mean I haven’t seen you like this like ever. It’s—it’s different Tony.” Your face probably did a poor job of hiding the amusement and humour from it as you opened the bathroom door wide open for Tony’s best friend to witness it all.

“What the—” Rhodey had the same reaction that you did, walking closer he too covered his mouth to hide his grin.

“It’s not good, is it? I knew it.” Tony sighed dejected.

“I mean if you were going for that eighties porn star vibe, you have nailed it.”

Rhodey’s comment made you burst out laughing, with Tony looking between the two of you utterly betrayed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as he stormed back inside the bathroom.

You made it just in time, holding the door and forcing yourself in as your giggles died down. Wrapping your arms around the man you loved, you laid your head against his shoulder and stared at your reflection.

“Okay, it isn’t so bad, Tony. I promise.” You pressed a loving kiss on his cheek, already missing the stubble that you were so used to.

The man let out an exaggerated exhale, rested his head on top of yours.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, we can role play. You be the sexy delivery man and I’ll tear open your package..”

You smirked, laughing out loud when Tony pushed you away and huffed. Outside, you could hear Rhodey chuckle knowing he was listening to you.

“Oh get lost you two!”

#tony stark drabble #tony stark x female reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark fluff #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fic #tony stark oneshot #marvel fanfiction #mostly marvel musings

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misery-has-no-company-now · 4 months

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character ask game 15, 18, 20 for New Jersey, New York, Connecticut

Hey, thanks for the ask! Here we go-

Connecticut -

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

I haven't really given this one much thought since I've neither thought of Connie a lot nor do I really go that deep into shipping since it's not the most interesting part for me, but I've read a bunch of Connecticut/Florida fics and so far that's been my favourite one to read (: [Also Flo called Connie Butter-cut in one of the videos 🥹]

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

I really like Flo's and Connie's conversations, of course. Connecticut is always just right at the edge while talking to Flo, who is either confused by them or keeps provoking them, and it's hilarious. Then the little bit of Connie and Rhodey we've seen - love that. But my favourite is actually Connie and Gov's relationship. I can explain.

For example, in the WNY 9/8 pt 1: A Wild Beefalo Has Appeared! video, Connie is just...so patient while explaining something to Gov - or at least patient in comparison to some of the other states we've seen yelling at and insulting Gov while giving him an answer. He doesn't do either of those or makes Gov feel stupid for not knowing the answer or what is going on in the state - he just takes a deep breath and calmly explains the whole 'part bison, part cow' thing to him. I feel like Gov really needs to talk with someone who doesn't get mad at him very easily, and Connie just fits that role in my eyes. Also, I bet that while Gov was still the Continental Congress, he and Connecticut would often get mixed up with each other since they both were called 'Con' for short. Till Connecticut gradually moved to the nickname 'Connie' and Congress started being called 'Connor' more often [then eventually Gov], they used to amuse each other by annoying the other states (Connie was one of the few rare states that Congress was not scared to loosen up and relax around) through answering to that name when someone was clearly calling for the other one (:

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screen time they share doesn't matter?

Rhodey. They both are two peas in a pod - small, feisty, and ready to bite with a whole lotta attitude. They were definitely pirates back in the day and uh... you know what @crazedstoryteller I feel like I should just tag you at this point since many of these headcannons are either yours or developed from yours anyway <3

Also, they both love the Boardwalk and are willing to take down anyone in a fight, no matter their size. They'll call each other in the middle of the night and ask them to join them in a fight - not because they need help but because they know the other one would love to be a part of the fight too. You know like how sometimes you might look at some picture and think "yeah, this friend of mine would want to see this"? Rhodey and Connie do that but with partaking in fights.

New Jersey -

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

Dara, come get your boys again because it's New Jersey/New York (: They're one of the sweetest couples I can think of really.

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

I don't remember which episode it was but there's one in which NJ says he's got to tell RI even Mass (I think?) doesn't like New York coming over. I can just imagine New Jersey and Rhode Island being the gossip queens of the Northeast lmao. And it doesn't hurt that they both are small enough to hide in places to secretly get the tea to spill to each other later...

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screen time they share doesn't matter?

Hmm, for this I'd have to say Nevada for sure. Nevada's a gossip queen too so that's also there. Then they both have large gambling centers that they regularly discuss about with each other. And NJ's one of the few rare states that (and the only one who regularly) allows Nevada to experiment with new hairstyles and make-up looks on him, partially because he's his friend and partly because he likes most of the looks himself too.

New York -

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

New Jersey/New York again, enough said (:

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

You know how in MA joins the table, Mass gives those ventilators to NY because he's not well and "Ain't nobody gonna kill no-how but me."? They're brothers, your honour, I swear. And because I can't stick to one alone; New York and Florida, outside the table, get along well too. NY's like his uncle that keeps visiting.

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screen time they share doesn't matter?

California, California, California, Cal-

They have so much in common - Broadway and Hollywood, loud big cities that never sleep, major economies, technology and the stock market, etc. etc. They hang out a lot and discuss all this stuff. Cali would be going through the script of the latest musical New York is in to see where the lights would need to be switched on and all that while New York is reading about California's next acting role to see the best outfits he should wear at all those show premieres.

This turned out longer than I expected, but I hope you're happy with the answers, anon!

#thanks for your ask!#wttt california #wttt connecticut #wttt florida #wttt gov #wttt massachusetts #wttt nevada #wttt new jersey #wttt new york #wttt rhode island

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ao3feed-irondadspiderson · 4 months

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How to Defuse A Fight By Peter Parker

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52288315 by inkinmyheartandonthepage In no universe will Peter Parker admit that in his excitement about going to Germany with Tony Stark and getting a brand Spiderman suit will he admit that he forgot the mask. No, him appearing in front of the Avengers with his face bare to the wind was totally intentional. Peter will die on this hill. OR The Captain America: Civil War airport scene re-imagined. Words: 1593, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 235 of We Forgot Peter Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Additional Tags: Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Peter Parker is a Mess, Teen Peter Parker, Sassy Peter Parker, Identity Reveal, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, BAMF Tony Stark, BAMF Peter Parker, Peter Parker is Trying His Best, Strong Peter Parker, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Captain America Civil War airport re-write, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Soft Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Peter Parkers Wins, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Tension, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, Fluff and Angst, Complete read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/52288315

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #iron dad and spider son #spider son #iron dad #peter parker #tony stark

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jiabeewrites · 1 year

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Avengers Gender & Sexuality Headcanons, but cleaned up a bit

hello hello! I revisited my old post, and it was messy af and I don't really headcanon a lot of these anymore. SO I PRESENT TO YOU:

The Avengers Being Gay As Fuck

STEEB ROGER ROGER || CAPTAIN AMERICA - ohhhhh boy... - bro is kinda not up to speed with how ✨🏳‍🌈 the gays 🏳‍🌈✨ are treated nowadays - so peter decides to teach him - and at first, he's kinda confused, esp about trans people - because hello, he was born in the fourties - it's kinda non-realistic to expect him to snap to reality just like that - anyhoo, peter ain't having the "how tf do trans people work" bullshit - he, like any good gen z kid would do, creates a shitty powerpoint presentation - after two full fucking hours of explanation, steve starts to get it - he still slips up sometimes... - but he tries his fucking best and honestly that's all we can ask of him - i don't really see steve labeling himself, but if you asked, he'd probably just steer the conversation away from that topic - would still use he/him - fuck that was long

TONY STARK || TIN CAN IRON MAN - bro has fucked and been fucked, taken and given head - by both men and women - cmon. there's no way that this billionaire playboy isn't fruity - pansexual, doesn't care about the gender of the person he loves - he's either in a poly relationship with pepper and rhodey or enemies-to-lovers with a certain stephen strange - he/him - funds the annual manhattan pride - qpr with rhodey

BRUCE BANNER || JOLLY GREEN GIANT - oh poor child - i feel like he is not one for sex - like bro practically radiates aroace energy - doesn't really feel the need for gender conformity. gender is an unknown subject and he doesn't like to meddle with it. end of story - pretty sure he's agender - i feel like he wouldn't care what pronouns are used, but if asked, i think he would answer he/they - bro is a triple a battery fr - prefers to be adressed as dr. banner or just banner

NATASHA ROMANOFF || SCARY ASSASSIN LADY - she/her. nuff said. - asexual. i will die on this hill - the red room taught her to use her body to get what she wants - but she never really wanted that - coughseggscough - i wanna say she's demiromantic & bi - clint is her biggest supporter - started the ace avengers club 🍇🐘👻🐈‍⬛

CLINT BARTON || LEGOLAS - i really can't see a queer clint. i can't - i also don't really see him being that one overinvested ally - he/him, straight, cishetallo - sorry :(

THOR ODINSON || THAT ONE THUNDER DUDE - he comes from asgard, where nobody really sees being queer as different - so when he comes to earth........just imagine his surprise when he finds out about homophobia - he found out when some dudebro was yelling at a girl who seemed like she wanted nothing to do with him - another girl was with them, and she looked like she wanted to kill the guy - thor was confusion - he asked what was going on, and the dudebro said that he caught his sister on a date with another girl - yknow, expecting thor to lash out at the girl - but thor was the exact opposite - he grinned, and congratulated the two on their relationship - WLW FOR THE WIN!! - dudebro started going off on a homophobic rampage - one glare from thor and he nearly shit his pants - and THAT is where thor got his title as protector of lesbians - he/him - tried using thunder based pronouns once but decided it wasn't for him - unlabeled. he thinks human labels are weird

JAMES RHODEY RHODES || WAR MACHINE - is he/him - gay as fucking hell oh my god - literally so gay - GAY MAN OVER HERE - k im done - i'm nearly 100% sure he's graysexual. doesn't really care for sex but if his partner(s) really want it...well, he loves them - probably has to steer tony away from fans all the time at pride - i'm also 100% sure he's down for polyamory. there's too much love for just one person in his heart - qpr with tony

PETER PARKER || SPOODERMAN - TRANS PETER TRANS PETER TRANS PETER!!!!!! - 🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧ - i know it's a really common tumblr headcanon but i FIRMLY support it! FTM - 60% sure that flash bullies peter because he's trans - i mean like it's more believeable than peter being a nerd - prob uses he/him - comes out to tony first, tony buys peter his first binder - may finds out next and she's just so happy. peter asks for name suggestions and she nearly cries - that's how he got his name :) - this kid forgets to take off his binder so often omg - like ned and mj and may MUST REMIND HIM or he'll forget - i feel like he'd be asexual but sex-neutral - doesn't care for it - bi. bi peter parker.

MICHELLE JONES || EMJAY - is enby 💛🤍💜🖤 - ain't no way she's a girl. like ain't no way - uses she/they if asked, but doesn't really give a fuck about pronouns - bisexual with a pref for gals. callin it now

NED LEEDS || NEDANIEL - pretty sure he uses he/they because he like the pronouns - thought that they/them was cool and just decided to use it :D - sweet boi, supports mj and peter sm - buys them pride flags ✨🏳‍🌈✨ - ned literally radiates aroallo energy like cmon - CMON - aroallos are so cool and sexy actually

LOKI LAUFEYSON || LOW KEY LMAO IM SO FUNNY - is genderfluid 💖🤍💜🖤💙 - like this isn't even headcanon fuck off - will use any and all pronouns, at any given time - idk...maybe it's just me but i'm getting MASSIVE asexual vibes - probably sex positive ace - like slay queen - panromantic. like do i even need to explain this

BUCKY BARNES || BUCKET - i will die on they/them bucky hill - and you will see my corpse there - and you will know i was right - unlabeled. doesn't fully understand themself rn, labels will probably make it worse - sam is a huge part of bucky's queer journey - probably uses peter as a queer encyclopedia

SAM WILSON || CHICKEN MAN - gay as freaking hell omfg - that is HOMOSEXUAL MAN RIGHT THERE - he/him - takes bucky to their first pride parade - queer legend - ✨🏳‍🌈✨

VISION || ROBOT MAN - is undecided on gender for now - decides to just use he/him while he figures everything out - i think he figures out that he's asexual real fast. like sex-repulsed - why humans would ever want to have intercourse is beyond him - same, girl, same - but he's definitely omniromantic. he does experience love, albeit a little differently than the rest of society - don't we all...

WANDA MAXIMOFF || WITCHY BITCHY - found out she was a lesbian after a failed date with vision - neither of them felt the attraction that they had before - so yes. gay. sapphic. wlw. - i hate the term but i feel like she would be a lipstick lesbian until she falls for a butch - she/her - has girl nights with her twin - hmm gay - ❤️🧡🤍💖💜

PIETRO MAXIMOFF || SPEEDY BITCHY - they/he/she - genderfluid, is particular about pronouns - like ik people don't really headcanon it but... - cmon. pietro is LIQUID GENDER. - (this also probably stems from my belief that every single fucking speedster is genderfluid no matter what fandom) - sees a pretty dress? will buy two. one for them and one for wanda - he really does slay stilettos tho - i think she's probably gay (mlm) - stfu pietro can be a gay man if they want to - fuck you

T'CHALLA || CATMAN - gay. GAY - he/they icon - wakanda is a safe place for EVERYONE - besides, all the dora milaje are wlw - probably homosexual, like what else would he be - nakia? 99% sure nakia is trans and they're in a qpr - AROACE NAKIA AROACE NAKIA - *aroaces every single character* - fuck yeah gay t'challa

SHURI || GENIUS GIRL - she/xe - sapphic asexual - shuri x riri is the hill i will die on - leaning towards women and fem aligned genders - started first wakandan pride parade - i'm 99% sure she officiated ayo & aneka's wedding - change my mind

STEPHEN STRANGE || DR WIZARD - agender, doesn't see the point in gender most of the time, so they/them/he/him - believes there are three sexes but an infinite amount of genders - demiromantic, demisexual - fight me - is most likely gay 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 - had a qpr with christine before the incident

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

{\__/} ( • . •) / >🏳‍🌈

HAPPY LESBIAN VISIBILITY WEEK!

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pandagirl45 · 19 days

Text

Kurt: dad there is a spirit in the puddle

Steve: do we ask loki or strange?

Rhodey: hrm... it could be mutant

Kurt: *stares more looking hypnotized*

Steve: *holds kurt up* uh, just call Xavier, strange, and loki

Rhodey: *already calling them*

Kurt: bring the chocolates *squirming to bring chocolates*

#imagine the chaos the marvel parents deal with #is it eldritch?#is it mutant?#is it asgardian eldritch?#who knows!!#steve rogers #james rhodes #kid kurt wagner #kurt wagner #warshield #steve rogers x james rhodes #steve rogers x james rhodey rhodes

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aurumacadicus · 2 years

Note

Ok, so random but I went to a yarn group today (I cannot crochet just embroidery but I thought it’d be fun to go) anyways!! I am now imagining Tony picking something like this up (crochet, embroidery whatever) and being in one of these groups could be an AU or maybe he picked it up to have something to do with his hands when bed bound because of getting hurt. Like someone literally just brought him the stuff “you are driving me insane learn how to do this and stay in the damn bed” kind of thing?

Anyways!!! So he’s in the group and for some damn reason Bucky (I’m leaning Bucky) didn’t know he did this, and some older ladies who are in the same group convince him to come after meeting him at a park or something (it’s therapeutic!) but tony is out of town or some reason? So Bucky goes to a few of these meetings, and these ladies won’t stop talking about sweet little “Anthony” and Bucky is sure someone’s talking about a grandson, gotta be someones grandson and how Bucky would get along with him so well and he’s like “oh someone is trying to set me up with their grandson.” Except these women know who Bucky is. Of course they do, he’s been on the news and stuff (if going with superhero’s). But manly because Tony won’t stop talking about him so they know tony has a crush on him, but won’t ever, ever say shit because “oh he hates me” so like old ladies getting them together.

A bunch of getting together shenanigans. Old ladies making it happen. Neither man knows these ladies are doing this. All the fun shit that comes with it you know?

I feel like I didn’t put this together well so I hope it makes sense?

It's perfectly understandable! And it gives me everything I crave, which is: Tony and Bucky being oblivious idiots, and fiber arts.

The Stitch and Bitch adopted Tony during physical therapy. He'd been urged to take up something to get the use of his hands back after his accident, and his Rhodey had dropped a hank of yarn and some sticks in his lap, and an hour later Mama Rhodes had arrived to teach him how to use them. She took him to a coffee shop where old ladies people met weekly to show off what they were working on and give advice when they struggled. Tony made a really ugly, lumpy scarf that Rhodey still wore proudly, and also found himself sort of bullied into continuing to attend so he could make better, beautiful scarves.

He figured he was there to stay when he started learning how to make lace shawls.

Tony didn’t get to go the meetings as often as he’d like, but he was always welcomed back with open arms when he could. They especially liked hearing about him vent about the rest of the Avengers, because, "Coffee grounds! In my garbage disposal! Bucky, at least, isn’t a neanderthal and puts them in the compost bucket where they belong." It’s very humanizing for the entire team.

Also one time Tony came in steaming mad because "I thought I had finally house-trained the team but apparently Natasha has just been stealing the coffee grounds to turn her hydrangeas blue and she’s on a mission for the next week and THERE ARE GROUNDS IN MY DISPOSAL AGAIN. I AM FIRING THE TEAM. No, Agnes, I didn’t know she kept hydrangeas, I am absolutely fucking boggled by how she snuck them in when they’re like fifty pounds what do you want from me."

Of course, everyone noticed that one James Buchanan Barnes was carefully left out of Tony’s extensive bitching. "Why would I complain about the only other member of the team who knows what’s compostable," Tony had scoffed when they brought this up to him. Then when they tittered about the fact he was blushing, he just sank in his chair and sighed, frowning down at his motionless needles as he said, “It doesn’t matter. He hates me anyway. He probably only composts because he’s scared I’ll yell at him like I do everyone else.”

“Anthony, why are you so obsessed with compost,” Myrna asked to take his mind off it, because he got this kicked-puppy look that everyone hated when he went into one of his forlorn moods.

“I’m not fucking obsessed with compost,” Tony snapped. “I’m obsessed with the fact that my entire team apparently thinks they live in a frat house. If I find another half-scrubbed plate in the cupboard again, I will blow the team clear out of the tower.”

“As you should,” everyone agreed, nodding.

.-.

Bucky was adopted into the group when some of the members noticed him watching them at the park. He had sort of a resting bitch face, but they figured that just meant he was made for a Stitch and Bitch. They tried him out with knitting, but he hated the way the needle felt in his metal hand, so they swapped his needles for a hook and taught him to crochet instead.

He powered through three washcloths and a blanket before he discovered plush toys, and the rest, as they said, was history.

“You should come to our weekly Stitch and Bitch,” Myrna told him sweetly. “We think you’d be a great match for our little Anthony.”

Bucky sincerely doubted it, because the average person was not made to deal with a semi-brainwashed, dangerous former assassin. “I don’t know.”

“Just think about it,” Agnes said gently, remembering what Tony had said about Bucky not reacting well to orders and having to word everything as suggestions. It was best not to push too hard, he’d said. “I think our little Anthony would just enjoy having someone around his own age to talk to.”

Bucky did not say he was not Anthony’s age, he was almost a hundred, but he sort of wanted to, just to see them squawk. “He’s on the younger side then, huh?” he said instead.

“Oh yes,” Agnes and Myrna assured him.

Bucky still wasn’t sure about meeting ‘Anthony’ and the group at large, so they promised him that the next Stitch and Bitch would just be the main group; Anthony would be out of town for work, so they would be able to ease him in. “Everyone is very friendly, and you can always bitch about how the boy you like doesn’t notice you to fit in,” Myrna added.

“He’s not a boy,” Bucky said, scowling a little.

“The man you like who doesn’t notice you,” Agnes sighed, rolling her eyes.

Bucky scowled a little more. “Will everyone make fun of me like you two do?”

“James,” Myrna moaned, frustrated, before Agnes cheerfully added, “Of course!”

“Pass,” Bucky said, but somehow got wheedled into it with some judiciously wielded Grandma Guilt.

#ask meme #write a blurb meme #winteriron #blackstar1602

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jinxquickfoot · 8 months

Text

@badthingshappenbingo prompt: Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

Find the fic on Ao3

“Sir? The hotel staff have a message for you.”

“Isn’t that what I built you for, JARVIS? To listen to useless messages so that I don’t have to?”

“The message was left by Cadet Staff Sergeant Rhodes, Sir.”

“Oh, he’s been promoted already, has he? Did I get him a congratulations gift?”

“I picked out something I felt was appropriate.”

“And what did he say?”

“Thank you, JARVIS. You have good taste.”

Tony collapses back on the hotel bed, working his tie loose and throwing it to the ground. He wants the suit off too, wants to bury his head under the power shower and drown himself, but moving feels like entirely too much effort. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” He wrinkles his forehead, trying to remember. “Was there a ceremony or something?”

There’s a delicate pause. “Yes, Sir. You were unconscious from intoxication and therefore stayed home.”

You’re so selfish, Tony. Everything is always about you.

“That also sounds correct.” Tony stares at the brand new bottle of top-shelf whiskey that’s filling the role of his plus-one to the Malibu Beach Inn. He’d slipped past the paparazzi crowding his front door demanding a statement, fully intent on stashing himself away without a word. “How does Rhodey even know I’m here?”

“I alerted him, given your current state.”

“There’s no state. I just wanted some peace and quiet, is that so much for a man to ask for?”

I asked for one thing. One night. But as always, you put the spotlight on you.

Tony reaches for the whiskey bottle.

“Shall I play the message?”

“Just think of an appropriate reply, J. That’s the whole reason you exist.”

“I would like to think I exist to ensure your well-being, Sir. Cadet Staff Sergeant Rhodes has called hotel reception several times asking if he should fly in to visit you.”

Tony freezes with his hand on the bottle lid.

I’m always bending over backward for you. I’ve never seen you even try to do that for me,

I’m sorry, Ty.

“Tell him he’s overreacting, he’s not my babysitter, and that I am fine. It’s just a break-up, relax about it.”

“If I may—sixteen months is considered a long relationship for someone in their late teens. It is an appropriate reaction to be distressed.”

No wonder no one else puts up with you. I can’t believe I stuck it out for this long.

I’ll try harder.

I wish I believed that, Tony.

Tony cracks open the bottle.

“Sir, if I may—”

“JARVIS, set a reminder for the morning for me to build you a mute button.”

“Duly noted,” JARVIS replies, and Tony is sure he isn’t imagining the disapproval in the AI’s voice. That’s new. “For now, I’ve had the liberty of having room service sent to your door.”

“You—what? When did I program you to do that?”

“You programmed me to be self-learning, in order to cater to and anticipate your needs.”

There’s a knock at the door.

“For god’s sake,” Tony mutters, burying his face in his hands. He doesn’t want to think about what he might look like—red-eyed with tousled hair, like he’s some little kid and not a full-grown adult who had just completed their second Master's degree.

Jesus, don’t cry about it. You’re the one who made me look bad.

I’m sorry I didn’t come to the party, Ty. I just—

What? Had better things to do?

“The room service attendant has departed. If you would please open the door, Sir—the delivery is rather time-sensitive.”

“What, did you deliver me a bomb? Do I look that much like I want to blow myself up?”

“I do not find those sorts of remarks amusing, Sir.”

Your friends hate me, Ty. They make it clear they don’t want me around.

Don’t be stupid. It’s not their fault you can’t take a joke.

Tony bangs the bottle back on the bedside table, forcing his body into action. He checks the peephole first, making sure the corridor doesn’t contain some front page chaser ready with a camera. When he’s sure the coast is clear, he cracks the door open and hastily swipes the small silver dish that’s been deposited on the carpet.

It’s not working, Tony. I’m sick of making all the effort. None of the other post-grads wanted to hang out with some kid, but I took a chance on you. I took you to parties, I introduced you to my friends. I did so much for you.

I said I was sorry—

Sorry that you’re losing your one meal ticket to a normal relationship. I’m done, Tony. We’re done. I don’t need you hanging around, always wanting more. It’s exhausting and it’s pathetic. I don’t know what I saw in you in the first place.

“JARVIS? What the hell am I looking at right now?”

“According to several sources I located, ice cream is the most appropriate food to consume while dealing with heartbreak.”

Tony slams and locks the hotel room door, still staring at the bowl. “You ordered me ice cream.”

“Yes, Sir. While eating to deal with unpleasant emotions is not recommended on a regular basis, I do believe in this instance it is preferable to consuming a dangerous portion of liquor.”

Tony is suddenly all too aware of the bottle that’s been calling his name since he isolated himself. “I’m allowed to have a drink.”

“Technically, you will not be allowed to drink alcohol for another two years, Sir.”

“Like that’s ever stopped me.”

Tony perches on the end of his bed, torn. “Several sources, huh? So girly magazines? What to do when Mr. Right goes sprinting for the hills?”

There’s a moment before JARVIS speaks, as though he’s weighing his words. This is definitely not in the original programming, and Tony resolves to take a look at what the hell kind of self-learning code he’s built in the morning. Or, late afternoon. Or evening. He feels like he could sleep for a month. “If I may be forward,” JARVIS says finally. “I have measured what I could observe of Tiberius Stone’s behavior during your relationship and compared it to multiple academic publishings on the signs of healthy dating habits. I have to say, I highly doubt he was your ‘Mr. Right', Sir.”

Tony watches a pool of melted ice cream start to form at the bottom of the bowl. “It’s not as though I’m ever going to find anyone better.”

“That too, I highly doubt. Please note that, if you do decide to drink past the recommended alcohol intake tonight, I have the hotel paramedic’s number on standby.”

“This place really does think of everything, huh?” Tony picks up the spoon, dipping it into the first scoop of ice cream. “You got quite the selection.”

“Apologies, Sir, but your favorite flavor is not on file.”

Tony swallows past an unexpected lump in his throat. He can’t remember the last time someone asked him his favorite anything. It was always Ty’s music, Ty’s foods, Ty’s friends. “Chocolate,” he whispers. “It’s chocolate.”

“I have recorded that information.”

Tony clears his throat. “Thanks.”

“This is my purpose, Sir.”

“Right.” Because this isn’t a real person giving a damn whether Tony drinks himself into a coma or not. It’s not actually Edwin Jarvis, pulling him away from his dad’s drunken shouting and taking him for a long drive where Tony could play any music he liked. And Tony’s aware that it’s pathetic that he’s had to build someone to be around him, because no human except Rhodey seems to want the job, and no way is Tony calling him away from the Air Force Academy for something as stupid and self-centered as this.

Well, at least he knows JARVIS isn’t going to leave. He’s an AI, his code completely in Tony’s control. He’s doing this because he was programmed to.

The TV screen flickers to life, making Tony jump. “Apologies, Sir. I have also read that favorite movies can be a helpful activity during this time. I see the hotel has some of the classic Captain America films on file?”

Tony recalls being five years old, curled up under a blanket, watching Captain America beat down the Nazis. They were the only films his dad wouldn’t yell at him for wasting time watching. “They got the one where Cap finds the time machine?”

“Captain America’s Roaring Twenties Adventure. An excellent choice, Sir.”

The black and white credits start, the corny, upbeat theme filling the otherwise too-big room. Tony settles back against the headboard, balancing the ice cream in his lap. He’d save the whiskey for another day. “Thanks, JARVIS.”

“Anytime, Sir. It is what I was made for.”

Knowing this day was coming doesn’t make it any easier.

This has to stop, Tony. And you’ve proven to me that this is the only way.

He still keeps a bed ready in the Compound. Pepper had offered to move out, but Tony had turned her down. She could keep the house. She could keep whatever she wanted. He’d leave.

This doesn’t change how I feel about you, Tony. But I can’t live like this. It’s too much.

No one has questioned why Tony has barricaded himself in his room at the Compound, and Tony doesn’t blame them. The team is busy, both with training, taking on old and new threats, and with their own lives. Over the past year, Tony has talked to them less and less, if at all. Wanda doesn’t trust him. He barely even knows where Sam Wilson appeared from. And something has fractured between him and Steve after Ultron, something neither of them have been willing to acknowledge, let alone fix.

Only Rhodey knows the truth, and Tony had implored him not to tell the rest of the team. He and Pepper had agreed to keep it out of the papers, too. After the mess of Sokovia—his fault—the last thing the Avengers need is more bad press.

Which is why he’s alone in his room with a whiskey bottle when Vision phases through the door, a small box in his hands.

Tony startles, almost just managing to keep himself from spilling his drink. “Geez, Vis, give a guy some warning.”

Vision looks back at the door as though he’s only just remembered it’s there. “Right. Knocking.”

“Yeah. Knocking.” Tony sits straighter in bed, suddenly all too aware that the bottle is already a quarter empty. “We got a mission or something?”

“Not a mission, no. I’m just here to check on you.”

“To what?”

“To check on you,” Vision repeats, sending a pointed look at the bottle. “It’s 10 am, Tony.”

“Yeah, well it’s been rough… all the hours before that.” He sighs, flopping back against the bed. “I really just want to be alone, Vis. No offense.”

“None taken. I just wanted to offer my condolences regarding you and Pepper.”

“How did you—”

“I overheard a conversation between her and Rhodey. Completely by accident—no one else knows.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” Tony eyes the box. “Is that something I should be worried about?”

“Not at all.” Vision holds the box out.

Tony has to put the bottle down to take it. It’s oddly cold, as though it’s been in a freezer recently. “Please don’t tell me this is another body part I’m expected to sew back on, because that was one time and I am not doing it again even if—’’

He breaks off when he opens the lid.

“I do hope I’m not overstepping,” Vision says. “But as I recall, we once agreed ice cream was the preferable break-up comfort over alcohol.”

Tony stares down at the tub. “Chocolate?”

“Of course.”

“That’s…” Tony swallows, hard. “You remembered that?”

“A part of me, yes. Accessing those memories is… odd. Almost like recalling a dream. But I’ve scanned enough of them to pull out the important parts.”

Tony clears his throat. “Might want to reconsider what is deemed important there, Vis.”

“No, I don’t think I do.” Vision takes another step into the room. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Tony shrugs. “Not sure there’s much to talk about. I promised I’d hang up the suit and give Pepper a normal life. I broke that promise. Pepper left. The end.”

“I’m very sorry,” Vision says softly. “It must be hard to try and balance this life with romantic relationships.”

“Maybe. Not like anyone on this team has a successful love life. Unless you count Barton, of all people.” He looks up just in time to catch something in Vision’s expression. “What?”

“A passing thought,” Vision replies, a little too quickly. “And perhaps not the right discussion topic for this moment.”

“Yes, let’s not talk love lives right now. Unless you have anything to share, in which case—”

“I do not.” Vision looks towards the mounted television, changing the subject. “Perhaps you would like to watch a movie? Captain America’s Roaring Twenties Adventure, if I remember correctly?”

Despite the aching chasm Pepper’s absence has left, Tony feels his lips twitch. “There’s no way I could watch that in this building without Romanoff somehow finding out about it.”

“And that would be bad?”

“Sometimes I forget you were created post-Tower days. Yes, she would never let me hear the end of it.”

“I understand. Perhaps a sitcom? Wanda has introduced me to some excellent ones.”

Tony’s fingers are turning numb against the cold box, but he doesn’t mind. “You wouldn’t rather be watching funnies with her?”

Vision hesitates. “If you would like me to leave, I will. I didn’t mean to intrude.” Still, his eyes linger on the whiskey bottle.

Tony reaches for it, screwing the cap back on and rolling it under the bed, out of sight. “Show me what our resident Sabrina has been teaching you, then.”

Vision instructs FRIDAY to put on something Tony is sure was old before he was even born, but he doesn’t protest. The black and white images fill the screen, FRIDAY automatically dimming the lights.

They’re two episodes in before Tony mutters, “Thanks. I know… well, I know you’re not JARVIS. You don’t have to do this.”

“No, I’m not, and I don’t. But the best part about being here, about being me, is that I get to choose to do whatever I want, and whoever I want to do it with. I hope it’s helping.”

Tony’s world is still imploding as he pictures a morning when he wakes up without Pepper at his side. But it’s feeling a modicum less hopeless. “Yeah. It is."

#bad things happen bingo #bthb card #whump writing #unhealthy coping mechanisms #tw emotional abuse #tw alchoholism #tony stark #tiberius stone #jarvis #vision #mcu #marvel #fanfiction #ao3 #iron man

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lotusthewriter · 11 months

Text

Some day, when your head is much lighter

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: T

Relationships: Peter & Tony, Peter & Nebula, Peter & Morgan

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Nebula, Morgan Stark; MINOR - Pepper Potts; MENTIONED - Guardians of the Galaxy (minus Gamora), Happy Hogan, James "Rhodey" Rhodes

Summary: As they all celebrate Tony's return home, Peter feels like an outsider.

Nebula may relate a bit too much to the feeling.

Word count:

AO3

A/N: Heads up that on AO3 the fic is split in two chapters, but here I published the whole story in one post.

I bet a fic like this exists already, but I think Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 inspired me, so I ended up writing this thingy. Well, besides my dad treating me like shit as usual, resulting in a clingy and needy author writing paternal affection to soothe their lack of it. And I once again ended up writing 5k of self-indulgent hurt/comfort.

Also kind of a salt fic, mainly because we were robbed of more Nebula and Tony - and better yet, Nebula and Peter. They all deserve happiness!!! They deserve to be friends!!! To be family!!!!

Anyway, the Guardians are buddies with the Ironfam because of Nebula, while the Rogues/Avengers should stay as far away from Tony as possible, lmao.

Please be aware of the trigger warnings listed below.

TRIGGER WARNINGS - past canonical character death, suicidal thoughts/ideation, grief, implied past child abuse and depression.

Hate will be blocked. P/roship DNI.

Parties were never really his thing.

This one is different, though.

After practically two months, Tony Stark, the savior of the universe, is back home with his family.

His real family.

Aunt May couldn’t come due to all the housing issues they’ve been facing since returning from the Snap, so for old times’ sake, Happy went all the way to Peter’s current apartment to take him to the peaceful lake house the Potts-Starks have decided to retire in.

The trip felt… uncomfortable.

Happy of all people tried to get Peter to talk, in the most awkward way imaginable. Eventually, Happy would only shoot him sad glances, not at all grumpy, until Peter quietly asked him to give him some privacy for now (of course, not rudely). The boy didn’t even listen to music while he delved into New York City. Save for new stores and buildings, for the most part it didn’t look so awfully different to the human eye.

But Peter knew better than that. He sees more than the average person did. And that’s a curse.

It certainly is with Peter here, in this party that he should actually care about.

The teen gets to see Tony with the biggest smile on his face, despite the scars and the metal arm he built himself. He gets to see Pepper and Morgan, now relieved that Tony is not trapped in a hospital bed anymore. Even the… Guardians of the Galaxy have come along, like they’ve been Tony’s friends this whole time, despite the events that initially brought them together, and those that separated them as well.

Everyone is fine.

They’re exhausted and hurt, but they’re fine, because for now they celebrate.

Peter, however, has nothing to celebrate. When he should have.

This feels like Liz’s party, but at least back then Peter had Ned with him. At least things were easier. Not better , but easier .

What makes this all worse is that everyone is trying.

Like Happy did in the car, Morgan is constantly taking his hand and grinning at him with her adorable dark eyes, trying to lure him into her antics – she’ll whisper in his ear to beg him to be Spider-Man and grab all the juice pops for her –, and then Pepper immediately finds them and she will reassure Peter he doesn’t have to do anything the little “burglar” says, so Morgan will pretend to be innocent and she’ll run somewhere else. After this, Pepper is sweet and attentive towards Peter, smoothing his brown curls like she’s always done this, like he’s been her child from the moment he was born. While Rhodey likes joking with Tony, the former is incredibly soft and patient with the boy, telling Peter he can always tell everyone to stop smothering him, half-joking, half-meaningfully. Finally, the Star-Lord, who’s apparently also named after Peter, tries to sound like his cool older brother/cousin figure, only for him to end up sounding even more unaware than Uncle Ben, since Quill hasn’t been to Earth in forever. Everyone laughs when Peter accidentally implies that Quill is an old man since he has no idea how smartphones work, for a guy that has a spaceship and everything.

Admittedly, talking to the Guardians of the Galaxy kind of helps Peter get distracted from his haunting thoughts, since he ends up acting like a guide to them, in cultural terms. So you’ll basically find a teenager showing a group of aliens – and animals (as Peter eyes the walking raccoon that does not like being called a raccoon) – random memes. Drax doesn’t get the majority of them, and he demands explanations. Honestly, nobody but Groot gets it, even if all he says is “I am Groot”.

Peter never had a chance to know these guys better, as they all had to face Thanos and save the universe, so… this is nice.

That is, when Morgan steals Peter again – as well as the blue girl with black eyes, Nebula, if he’s not mistaken – to beg him to know when they’re going to play and get the juice pops. Suddenly, all the Guardians tune in and Drax “the Destroyer” is all for doing justice for the “Iron Daughter”, which draws Pepper’s attention, Tony’s and Rhodey’s laughter, and Happy doing his best to not let chaos rule the house, even if he might be secretly laughing as well.

And Peter is just… there .

He has been just there from the very beginning and… there’s nothing left for him to do.

This shouldn’t be upsetting. Peter should be laughing with them. He should be happy that Tony is alive. He should be grateful he’s here with him and everyone else.

But he isn’t.

He can’t keep pretending.

Peter flees the scene when he’s sure no one will notice, so he’s outside by the lake, facing the distant buildings he’s grown up with. The teenager already wonders how in the hell he’s going to leave without asking Happy, because he certainly doesn’t want to cause any more trouble for them. Peter does have his homemade suit with him, since it’s a habit he’ll never grow out of, but again, there aren’t any buildings in this area, and trees aren’t exactly stable enough for web shooting. Not to mention how expensive a cab would be to leave such an isolated place.

In the middle of his overthinking, a presence approaches, somehow undetectable by his enhanced senses at first.

“You’re leaving?”

It’s… truly not the voice you’d expect.

Peter turns around to find Nebula, who observes him with a knowing look… yet not judgmental. She doesn’t look confused by him leaving, either. She just pointed it out.

He opens his mouth but he only makes weird noises instead of words, hiding his cell phone since he’s already been caught, and fidgeting nervously.

“I- I-I dunno,” Peter manages, “I just…”

The arachnid teenager truly has no idea what to say. Every excuse he can come up with only sounds more and more dickish.

Nebula hums.

“Although you smiled the entire time, and were even socializing well with others…” Her eyes are deep like outer space. “All you wanted was to escape.”

Peter bites his lip. Nebula doesn’t sound like she knows the whole truth. Once again, she just observes and wants to confirm her suspicions.

“I-I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

Nebula shakes her head. “You don’t need to apologize for wanting to escape.”

Peter frowns, looking down.

“I-I don’t want to be ungrateful, I know everyone wants me to be here and- and you’re all trying really hard to make me feel comfortable, but…”

The cyborg crosses her arms, yet again, not in a way to make him feel bad.

Peter sighs. “I just feel like I don’t belong.”

His voice sounds wet and broken. Honestly, he’s been wanting to cry the moment he stepped here.

“These past few months have been so hard for me,” the boy opens up, despite Nebula being basically a stranger to him. “I already have to deal with the fact I turned into dust and woke up five years later. I have to get home and realize nothing is the same, I realize how much I’ve lost. People have moved on from me. And yet I have to go to school and be a normal boy like none of the things I mentioned ever happened. A-And then, I almost lost Mr. Stark, and he was isolated in the hospital this entire time… the staff told me I had to be his actual family to visit him.” Peter sniffs, drying his eye with his sleeve. “And even though I know Mr. Stark and Mrs. Potts would do everything to include me in their family, I still… never went after that. It doesn’t make sense, does it? I’m hurt that they didn’t let me see him… but I also didn’t have the heart to tell them I was hurt. Not to mention seeing him in that state… I don’t think I could handle the sight.”

Peter doesn’t look at Nebula at all, though he’s aware she’s listening in silence the whole time. She seems to have stepped closer to him, but they keep a fair distance from each other. He half realizes Nebula seems to have… glitter on her face, probably thanks to Morgan. He would have laughed if he weren’t breaking down.

“Like, even the Guardians are way better at this than me! At being their family!” Peter resumes. “It’s like they’ve been Mr. Stark’s friends since forever, like they weren’t dead for FIVE YEARS or the fact that they barely know him!”

He hates how childish he sounds right now, how needy and spoiled he is for being upset about all of this; especially after just admitting that he never bothered to tell Mr. Stark what he wants.

Peter dries his tears because he doesn’t want them to be seen, to be discovered, even if Nebula looks like the best person to keep secrets.

“S-See? The problem isn’t them, it’s me,” he says, angry. “They want me to matter, but it’s pointless. I’m not worth anything, ‘cause I can’t do anything right.”

He only remains cleaning his face meaninglessly with his shirt while Nebula is quiet, maybe shocked or sympathetic, he doesn’t really know. Peter also makes sure nobody else is watching them, which thankfully seems to be the case.

Either way, the boy dries the water and snot until his eyes shut up… besides Nebula finally saying something for once.

“... you are not the problem.”

Peter frowns. “What?”

“You’re not the problem,” Nebula repeats patiently.

“Why?” He’s too distraught to apologize for the slight lashing out.

Nebula, however, is unfazed by the reaction.

“I… never had anything,” she starts. “Thanos stripped everything away from me. And when he killed half of the universe… somehow I managed to have less than nothing. But then… I had Tony.” Nebula is the one looking away, staring at the lake. “We were the only survivors.”

Peter watches her not shed a single tear.

“It only lasted a few days, but they felt so long. We were out of food and gas. Even still, he made sure to look after me. We even played games together. He… praised me. Tony barely knew me and yet… he liked me,” Nebula contemplates. “And he was going to die. I knew I couldn’t do anything… but I did what I could.”

She pauses.

“After we were saved, I thought he’d be better off without me. I knew he had a family,” Nebula admits. “But whenever I was available, I’d find myself getting repairs and updates the most carefully I have ever witnessed. I’d find myself drinking… hot chocolate. And sometimes babysitting Morgan. So… I ended up being part of his family, I guess.” She shrugs affectionately, a shy smile even surfacing there. “I never thought I’d be part of a family. The Guardians didn’t convince me otherwise, not at first. It was Tony’s.” She stops again. “It might not look like it, but to this day, I still believe I don’t deserve to be here. I don’t deserve to be taken care of. I don’t deserve Tony loving me the way my father never did.” Now her voice is the one which breaks.

Peter watches her this whole time, without breaking down again. Nebula seems to be tough, but at the same time she’s being very vulnerable right now. She ends up letting out a deep sigh.

“What I mean is… you have every right to feel hurt or alone, or out of place. That does not make you a bad person. That is not your fault,” Nebula reassures him. “And most importantly, you deserve help for that. You deserve love.”

Peter looks at her with his well-known puppy eyes, like Tony would call them.

He wants to say something – he should, but not sure what it’d be.

The blue cyborg stands awkwardly next to him, probably feeling the same way, especially after the two of them opened up so deeply like that. Nebula likely believes that she might have not helped much, hence why she’s going back to the house without a lot of certainty (or she’s really not the best at socializing, given she’s, you know. An alien).

When she’s about to leave, Peter finally lets out:

“Hey, Nebula?”

She merely turns around.

“Th… Thank you,” Peter smiles, “for looking after Mr. Stark.”

Nebula’s expression manages to soften even more. If she weren’t a cyborg, Peter is almost sure her cheeks would be red.

She nods, not saying anything. She doesn’t have to for Peter’s grin to widen.

Now, he’s rather unsure what to do. Maybe he’ll stick out here for a while, throw rocks to the lake with his super strength and see how far they can go. He doesn’t get to decide with Morgan coming back… only she’s on Tony’s lap.

“Petey! Aunt Nebula!” The little girl smiles. “Where were you? You should’ve seen Mr. Drax falling asleep in just three seconds! Without any bedtime story!”

“Mantis had to stop the big guy before he ripped our fridge apart,” Tony explains, smirking.

“Are you okay, Petey-pie?” Morgan asks, worried.

“O-Oh.” Great, that question. Why is he so obvious? “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, Morgan.”

“It’s okay. Daddy says everyone needs some good cry every now and then. And at least you weren’t alone!”

“Yeah,” Peter sniffs as he briefly smiles at Nebula.

He feels too embarrassed to look at Tony back, knowing the older man is staring at him with those big concerned eyes of his.

Due to the heavy silence, Nebula suddenly walks to Tony to talk to Morgan, her low voice softening and even sounding playful. Just vaguely.

“What do you say we prank Drax while he’s asleep?” Nebula suggests. “We could put some glitter on his face, too.”

Morgan gasps, excited. “Yeah! He’s a Guardian of the Galaxy, so he needs to shine reeeeally bright!”

“That’s right,” Nebula smiles, picking the girl up.

“Are you coming, Petey?” Morgan wonders.

Before the boy can even open his mouth, Tony speaks for him.

“We’ll be right back at you, Morguna,” he winks at her. She returns the gesture, so Morgan hugs Nebula, who seems completely alright with the affection. When Peter first met her, he never thought the cyborg would be so sweet with children.

Only for the teen to realize, he’s alone with Tony. Perhaps the first time in so long. They feel like strangers even if Tony tries not to leave that impression.

The last time they were together… Tony was dying in front of him, and all Peter wanted was to hold onto him, because he couldn’t handle losing someone else. It had felt like losing Uncle Ben all over again, and Peter wanted to push everyone else away to save Tony, to cry and mourn, and beg him to stay, to not leave him.

Peter can only understand how Nebula must have felt when she also thought she’d lose the only person that ever made her feel loved.

Tony is back.

Then why isn’t Peter happy?

“Pete?”

He can’t even look at Tony.

Peter is so ungrateful.

“Hey, buddy… you don’t need to hide your tears from me,” the man says softly. “You don’t have to be fine for my sake, or anyone’s sake.”

Peter knows that, and it only makes him want to cry harder.

When Tony approaches him, while still not directly touching him, Peter smells wood, which is… quite new for him. That and a shampoo that screams “Dad” shampoo. However, he smells the same oil and coffee that brings Peter back to their lab days. It brings him back to the nights the boy stayed over at the Compound, watching movies with his mentor, accidentally falling asleep on the hero’s shoulder, and not realizing it until he was wrapped up in a blanket and too tired and comfortable to move. It reminds Peter of when Tony put a hand behind his neck, his fingers running through the former’s curls, as the teen was being crushed by the weight of his grief, the weight of bullying and loneliness. It reminds Peter of when he felt loved despite the entire world telling him otherwise.

Everything has changed so much now, but in the end… Peter can still find some of the old smell of home.

He’s… home.

It doesn’t look like it, at all.

But he’s home.

And he loses it.

Unlike in the battlefield, Peter rushes to Tony’s arms before anything bad happens to separate them again. Before anything and anyone can take Tony away from him.

“I’m sorry!” Peter sobs, “I’m sorry, I missed you, I thought you’d–!”

“Hey, hey, hey… it’s alright, Peter.” Tony just soothes his back up and down. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Peter weeps, “I’m sorry.”

“Shhh… you have nothing to apologize for. Nothing, do you hear me?”

Tony sounds so incredibly patient that it only has Peter cry more in his shoulder, at this point too out of it to apologize for wetting Tony’s dad-looking sweater. Peter just buries himself in his mentor’s shoulder, wanting to be wrapped up in his home again, to feel like he belongs somewhere again. He’s missed this so damn much…

“I missed you,” Peter whispers, voice high like a child’s. “So much…”

Tony laughs wetly, squeezing the teenager in his arms, and kissing his head many times. “I missed you too, kiddo. You have no idea.”

His right arm is a little more solid than the rest of his body, but it’s still the same arms that have always loved Peter. The arachnid isn’t hugging the armor this time. They’re not fighting an evil overlord. They’re home again.

Tony just calms him down and never once complains about how long it takes. He’s willing to stay forever if Peter needs it. Truly, he doesn’t know what he did to deserve… a father like Tony Stark.

Although he’s grateful, the black hole in him aches again, absorbing his joy. That’s how his life feels most of the time.

“I’m sorry,” Peter repeats.

“Peter…” Tony sounds pained.

“N-No, I mean it. You were all doing everything to welcome me, and I just… didn’t say anything. I just left.”

Tony just looks heartbroken, his flesh and mechanical arms wiping some of Peter’s tears for him.

“I thought…” Peter gulps. “I thought of leaving without anyone knowing. I didn’t feel right staying in there. Ever since I came back, nothing has felt right, but it feels like I’m expected to live like I didn’t literally die . A-And even though you’re trying to help me feel less alone… I still feel alone. And that’s not your fault.”

His mentor looks like he’s about to hug Peter the same way he did when they reunited, only for the boy to say more.

“I-I guess I’ve always felt like this, but… I still felt like I had something, before this all happened. But now, I don’t have anything and I feel like everyone has lived on well without me. You might try to include me, but… I can see it. I see how you guys interact. How… better you are without me.” He sniffs grossly. “The Guardians were gone for five years too, but they’re having so much fun, celebrating your return. I know I should be, too. I-I’m so relieved you’re back home, Mr. Stark,” Peter insists. “B-But I don’t feel like… I’m home. It’s like I lost it. Forever.”

The boy lowers his head, staring at the dirt, the ground reminding him of his own demise. He’s stepping on it like… he belongs there.

“I-I f-feel like… like…” Peter cries, scared of Tony’s reaction, “like maybe I shouldn’t have come back.” He feels so much like a little kid. And it makes sense, doesn’t it? Peter didn’t grow up with Tony. He’s stuck in a teenage body when he should be a young adult. “M-Maybe I… I should have just stayed dead.”

With the way Tony’s hands stop gently touching Peter’s face, the latter is sobbing furiously again.

Maybe now, he should leave.

Leave and never return.

Peter never wanted to admit these thoughts to anyone, because they just make him realize how much of a horrible person he is.

When his instinct tells him to run and hide, and never – ever – return, Tony’s left hand stops him, grabbing his arm firmly but not to the point of hurting it. If anything, it seems to shake silently.

“M-Mr. Stark, l-let me go,” he begs.

“You’re not better off dead.”

Tony is quiet and gentle, yet he appears to be close to breaking down, too.

“I-It doesn’t feel like it,” Peter bites.

“I know.”

The way Tony speaks… the way he’s rubbing Peter’s arm…

The boy wants to reject it, but he can’t.

“Let me help you, Peter,” Tony quietly pleads.

“Nobody can help me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Then why hasn’t it gotten better? Why do I keep losing everyone and- and everything? Why does life just get worse every time I think it’s going to get better?”

“Because it sucks. I know it does.”

Tony is behaving a lot like Nebula right now. They both speak from experience. Only here, Tony doesn’t explain where it comes from. Maybe because, right now, it’s not the focus.

“I’m…” Peter lowers the defenses. “I’m so tired, Tony.”

“I know, Pete.”

Like this, Tony is hugging him again.

“You can rest now,” he promises.

Peter cries once again, and it only hurts even more. Yet somehow, the crying is less desperate and loud. It’s more… here , if that makes sense.

He knows more than anyone that this is not enough for the black hole inside him. Nothing is enough for the black hole.

Still… Tony is able to quiet it down.

With just this one hug.

So, Peter just holds onto it.

It's true, then. That sometimes, a hug is really all you need to know that things will be alright.

They don't even notice the time pass until the Guardians come to say goodbye, though they almost retreat in respect, seeing that Peter and Tony were having a moment. Peter is the one who reassures them it’s alright. Each of the Guardians comforts the teenager in some way. Quill even suggests they should cruise in space some of these days, whenever he feels like escaping Earth. Obviously, with the glare Tony gives him, Quill ensures that Peter will have all the resources needed, including some great taste in music, or so he says. Either way, it… doesn’t actually sound like a bad idea.

Nebula promises she’ll keep visiting as well, or at least make video calls in case she’s stuck out there. She also tells Peter to keep in touch with her whenever he needs. He smiles and raises a hand for her to shake. She returns both gestures, and hopes he gets to feel better soon.

Rhodey and Happy still stick around the lake house while the spaceship flies away, mostly so they help Pepper clean the house. Peter would’ve helped, but Morgan takes his hand to show him his room. Not her room, but… his . Tony sighs dramatically that she ruined the surprise, but he joins the duo to what appears to be an untouched bedroom.

Morgan tells him to close his eyes and not peek.

“I have enhanced senses, Morgan,” Peter gently reminds her.

“Then turn them off!”

The boy giggles. “Okay, okay.” He even covers his eyes with his free hand.

Obviously, he can’t turn his senses off, but he keeps it up for her.

The room smells… very clean.

“O-kay, you can look!” Morgan instructs him.

When he sees…

He gasps.

Besides the exact same Star Wars posters he had at the Compound – and some new –, there are hand-made drawings of Spider-Man shooting webs. They’re all signed with Morgan’s name, and some appear to include Nebula’s as well. There are a couple colored lightbulbs, red, blue, and yellow gold, hanging in the ceiling, and then… Peter notices a few pictures by the other wall, most of which feature Peter and Tony in the lab, or whenever Pepper or Rhodey were able to capture them sharing a sweet moment.

But what really has Peter laugh and almost cry again is a photo of a small Peter Parker in the Stark Expo, Uncle Ben picking him up and laughing like his nephew was his whole world. The little boy, his true identity hidden behind an Iron Man mask, is pointing his toy repulsor at May, who took the picture while she also laughed like an angel.

“What do you think, kiddo?” Tony asks.

Peter laughs more, quietly. “I-It’s… It’s perfect.”

“I’m gonna design my own suits for you!” Morgan states rather determinedly.

“Oh, I would love that, Mo,” Peter squeezes her in a half hug, making her giggle. Meanwhile, Tony is looking at his kids with the proudest gaze he’s ever given someone.

Tony eventually leaves to help Pepper and the others, allowing Peter and Morgan to interact more properly. She shows him the books, comics and graphic novels she helped her father pick for Peter. Some of them were also hand-made stories about Spider-Man and his adventures, including his antics with Iron Man. As Morgan reads them to Peter (she sits on a chair next to his bed), the latter is very much invested. He knew that Tony probably told Morgan those stories, since they were all specific and familiar to Peter. Her comics bring the biggest smile to his face.

It feels like the day will never end, in the good way, when Pepper arrives (only she doesn’t interrupt them just yet, also looking like she probably took a picture of them like this, since she has her phone in her hand) to tell them it’s Morgan’s bedtime. Tony is next to his wife with curious eyes while the woman asks Peter if he’s going to stay overnight, as Happy is ready to leave and take him home if he wants.

As he lies in his bed, Peter… shakes his head.

“I’m already home.”

Tony looks like he’s about to cry at any moment, while Pepper and Morgan smile affectionately.

“You can come home whenever you want or need, okay?” Pepper touches his hair softly again.

“Okay.”

“Now, say good night to Peter, sweetie,” she tells her daughter.

“Wait! Can I kiss Petey good night?”

“Sure you can, Mo,” Peter smiles.

Thus, Pepper helps Morgan reach his forehead, her little lips touching it like it’s precious. Peter returns the affection with a smooch on her cheek.

“Nighty-night, Petey-pie,” Morgan says.

“Good night, honey,” Pepper kisses his head next.

“G’night.”

As the two leave, Tony comes in, silently, wearing a… Mandalorian hoodie. Mainly one where he’s protecting Grogu, if Peter is not mistaken. Tony doesn’t come to kiss him good night just yet.

“She read you the stories of Petey-pie?” He teases.

Peter snorts. “She’s the only one allowed to call me that.”

“You don’t have much of a choice here.”

They don’t really engage in further with the snark competition, not as Peter holds the blanket as if someone is going to take it away from him.

“Y-You’re not going to bed?” Peter asks.

“Yeah… but I still felt like my kid needed me. Guess you’re not the only one with Peter Tingles in the family.”

Peter rolls his eyes affectionately. Even then, Tony always sounds so… certain when it comes to the boy.

“This… might sound stupid, I dunno,” Peter gulps, “but… I d-don’t wanna wake up and… lose this, y’know?”

He expects Tony to reassure him that Peter won’t lose anything… only to come across the most tragic expression in the universe.

“... me neither,” the man whispers, likely something not even Pepper and Morgan know.

Peter doesn’t know what to say… other than shyly scooting over to the side.

Tony smiles sadly.

Once again, they haven’t cuddled in forever, and Peter forgot how good it felt.

“I missed my clingy spider-son,” Tony sighs in relief.

“Like you’re not clingy yourself.”

“Remind me again who’s the one being literally stuck right now?”

“Hmmmph,” Peter grumpily replies. Tony’s laugh feels contagious.

The former hesitantly touches the latter’s metal arm, then his brown eyes find Tony’s hairless right side, burnt skin now dark red, somewhat dead. Peter wonders if it hurts.

Tony, as usual, notices.

“Hey, you’re the one who needs attention here, bud,” he reminds him softly.

Peter looks away. “It’s different.”

“And it’s still valid.”

“Y-Yeah, but…”

Peter shakes his head.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, kid.”

“No, it’s not, I keep–”

“You keep being your best self, that’s what. And I’m very proud of you, Peter.”

The teen has lost count of how many times he’s wanted to cry today. He has cried since coming back, but never like this – maybe because Peter wasn’t even allowed to cry, or he didn’t feel like he was allowed to.

Peter clutches the older man’s hoodie, afraid of what just came to mind.

“What?” Tony questions.

The boy shrinks.

“W-When… When you…” Peter swallows. “When you snapped your fingers… d-did you want to die?”

Tony doesn’t tense at the question. If anything, he… relaxes?

“No. I didn’t want to lose Morgan, or Pepper… I didn’t want to lose you again. When I saw you crying for me… damn, kid. I felt like throwing Thanos far away to the other side of the galaxy, just to tell you I wasn’t going anywhere,” he replies, not sounding snarky in the slightest. “But there were many moments where I should’ve died. Moments where I thought… dying was the only option.”

Peter contemplates.

“What made you… not die, then?” He wonders.

Tony hums. “I never actually wanted to die.”

Something in the boy aches while hearing that.

“I was taught to believe my life was worth nothing. Even when I became Iron Man… they all told me I had to die to make peace,” Tony continues. “I still thought that when I was in the hospital. But every time I saw Morgan and Pepper, and Rhodey and Happy… every time I remembered Nebula was there for me in my darkest moment, and every time I remembered you were finally here and we could be together again… it gave me more strength than anything. It made me realize… that was the whole point. That’s the point of living. You get to live with people you love. You live to become someone you love, too.”

Peter remembers when Tony took away his suit, the way he was more disappointed than angry.

“That’s not a road that ends, nor is it an easy one. Mine began late in my life, but it’s worth every single mile.” Tony cups Peter’s face so they look at one another. “I’m sorry yours have been this bad, kiddo. I promise I’ll do what I can to help make it easier for you. I hope you get the breaks and support you need. Please, remember that you can count on us, for anything, even when it doesn’t feel like it.”

The moment Peter sniffs, Tony is cradling him like in those nights the boy had nightmares and needed to be comforted. Peter can only cling back with everything he has.

“I’m sorry,” he says either way.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Tony never gets angry. “One day, you’ll see that you don’t need to apologize for being you. One day, the emptiness will be easier, and calmer.”

At this point, Peter knows better than to get his hopes up.

But then…

Tony kisses his forehead and adds, “We’ll be here to help you see that day.”

And just those mere words seem to take away the tensions and calm the hungry, angry black hole in him.

Peter knows it’s just going to bite him back and make him question everything. But right now? He wants to believe Tony. Because it’s Tony Stark, because he’s a genius and a hero, and…

“... I love you, Tony,” Peter mumbles, muffled by the Mandalorian hoodie.

Somehow, the hero manages to hold him even closer.

“Love you too, kiddo.”

And just like before, Tony’s cuddles are the only way to make Peter sleep.

#peter parker #tony stark #irondad #morgan stark #ironfam #nebula #mcu nebula #death tw #suicide tw #suicidal thoughts tw #depression tw #grief tw #abuse mention tw #long post #fanfiction #hurt/comfort

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