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late-to-the-party-81 · 10 months

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Daddy's little cumdump

Request: Been toying with the thought of a dom!Tony lately, maybe he’s the readers boss or just with some DBF! energy? 😌 They definitely fuck! With a bit of slapping or spanking, hair pulling too and maybe just a little (or a lot) degradation 🫠😩❤️

AN: @lauratang - you asked for filth and here it is. I do not apologise for this one iota….

Beta’d by @mxaether

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and banner by me

Masterlist

Summary: A summer internship with your Dad’s boss and friend, with the man you’ve had a crush on the past 4 years? What could possibly go right wrong?

Relationship: Boss and DBF! Tony Stark x Intern Reader

WC: 2k

CW: Age gap (reader early 20’s, Tony mid-late 40’s), power imbalance, forbidden relationship, Tony has BDE (and a BD), spanking, hair pulling, rough sex, unprotected sex, blow jobs, vaginal fingering, degradation, Daddy kink, cum play, pet names, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, mention of sex toys, mention of exhibitionism.

Smack!

The heavy hand came down on the meat of your right asscheek and you let out a noise halfway between a shriek and groan. All the time he continued to plough into you from behind, his thick cock rubbing against your walls in the best way.

“You’re just dumb for it, aren’t you sweetheart? You’d let me do anything I wanted, wouldn’t you, as long as I promised to stick my dick in you somewhere.”

His grip was harsh in your hair, holding your head back, and making you bend into a bow shape. The pain was a delicious counterpoint to the pleasure shooting through you.

Smack!

Another slap to your ass, the other side this time.

“I didn’t hear you answer, babygirl. Use your big girl words for Daddy. Agree you’re a dumb slut.”

You let out a low whine, your pussy somehow getting even wetter at his words.

“‘M a dumb slut, Daddy. Want your dick in me all the time.”

He snorted in amusement from behind you.

“Now, there’s a thought. Wouldn’t it be nice to have you sitting on my lap, bouncing up and down when I’m in a meeting. In front of everyone. Even your father…”

Oh fuck! Your walls clenched, as a mixture of arousal and shame rushed through you, and you heard him chuckle.

Tony Stark. Your father’s best friend and colleague, and your boss for the summer.

You’d met him for the first time when you were 19, home for the summer from your first year of college. While you’d been away expanding your mind your father had scored a new job in the R&D department of Stark Industries.

It hadn’t meant much to you at first, other than a bit of fan-girling over the fact that your father actually saw Tony Stark regularly. However, the charismatic face of the company had decided to hold a company picnic for 4th July weekend, and it was there that you’d been introduced to him.

You’d been shy, ducking your head and trying to hide behind your hair as your heart had been beating loudly in your chest, you swore that your parents would hear it. You knew what Tony Stark looked like, of course, had seen him in the media, but meeting him in the flesh was altogether a different thing. He’d been dressed down, in scruffy jeans and an AC/DC t-shirt, but he still managed to knock all the air from your chest with one smile.

He’d been convivial, taking your Mom’s hand, kissing it, flattering her just the right amount to make your Dad beam with pride. Then your dad had introduced you, waxing lyrical about your college achievements so far.

Tony had shaken your hand and then smiled at your Dad before bumping his shoulder.

“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree then. Careful, bud. She might run you out of a job if she keeps on.”

All three of them had laughed out loud, your Dad reminding him you were studying marketing, and therefore no threat to him, and your Mom giving you a jovial shoulder hug, but you’d just wanted the ground to open up and swallow you, because the sinful thoughts you’d been having were gonna send you straight to hell anyway. You’d somehow gotten through the day, sticking close to your mom as much as you could, and pretending not to notice the man who was goddamn Iron Man, because your body had been pulsing with a hereto unknown level of desire.

Luckily, or unluckily, you didn’t see him again for a full year, until the next corporate picnic. You’d hoped that with the passing of a year he wouldn’t affect you so much, but you’d had no such luck. His effortless charm and handsome face had been as distracting as previously, and you hadn’t known whether you’d wanted him to pay you attention or ignore you entirely - when he’d spoken to you, you’d barely been able to get a word out past your suddenly parched lips, but once he’d gone, circulating amongst his guests, you’d hadn’t been able to take your eyes off him. The cycle had continued for a further two years until you’d finally returned to live with your parents again, having gained your Bachelors degree in Marketing.

Getting a job was the next hurdle for your life, but you’d frozen in panic when your Dad had gleefully announced that he’d managed to organise for you to have a summer internship at S.I., assisting Tony directly, no less. Which is what had led you to where you were now.

Within a week he’d cornered you in his office, and let you know he knew how you felt, had been watching you watch him over the last few years, and said if you wanted to do something about it, all you had to do was ask - he was captivated by you too. Your internship wasn’t at risk, and neither was your father’s job - he’d made that clear. The ball had been fully in your court.

You’d dithered for a few days, not feeling as though what was happening was real. He was older than you (although not as old as your Dad) and was, obviously, exceptionally powerful. You weren’t a shy virgin, having had a boyfriend in senior year of high-school and had a few dalliances while at college, but you’d have been the first to admit that the sex had never been as mind blowing as you’d been led to believe it would be. To be honest, it was that thought which had decided you on your path, because if sex could actually feel the way it was described in books and movies, then you’d had no doubt that Tony would make it feel that way.

Monday morning of your second week had rolled around and as Tony had returned from his first meeting, and flashed you a smile as he’d walked past your desk, you’d gotten up, followed him into his office, shut the door and dropped to your knees in front of him.

“Aren’t you an eager little thing?”

The condescending drawl had gone straight to your pussy as your fingers had fumbled with his belt and the fly of his Armani suit pants. When you’d freed his cock, you’d come to a grinding halt, the thick warmth of it lying in your hand and your mouth open in a small ‘o’. Tony had titled your chin up with his index finger and when you’d looked at him you’d seen he was smirking.

“Don’t be intimidated, sweetheart. I’m sure you can manage it, a clever girl like you. Come on, give it a go.”

You’d done so. You’d licked up and down his length, before swirling your tongue around his tip and then taking him in your mouth. He’d tasted wonderful, and as you’d bobbed your head up and down, jerking the lower half of his cock with your hand, Tony’s broad hand had stroked over your head and his lips had started to spew filth.

“That’s it, baby girl. You take what you want, what you need. And you do need it, don’t you. Aah-aah, not too fast. Savour it. Savour it. It’s not a race. Take your time.”

You’d done as he’d told you, slowing your movements, and, fuck, it had done something to you. You’d felt every ridge, every vein, as his cock had moved through your lips and over your tongue. Without realising it, you’d let out a little moan, when you’d tasted the drops of pre-cum that had leaked from his tip. You’d heard a thunk, and a glance up had revealed that Tony had let his head fall back against the wall behind him, but your attention had returned almost immediately to the task at hand.

“That’s it. Isn’t that better?” He must have looked down at you, because he’d chuckled again. “You gone dumb on me already, sweetheart? No thoughts in your head at all now apart from having my cock inside you. Just… aah… think how good it will feeling when I’m deep in your pussy… fuck. Yes… come on… you’re gonna swallow it all, like a good cumdump, aren’t you? Swallow all of my cum. Don’t waste a drop…”

He’d cum with a groan, flooding your mouth and you’d tried your best to comply with his demand. You’d licked all over his softening cock, cleaning him up, and when you’d finally tucked him away you’d realised that your pussy was throbbing with need. Tony had seemed to immediately know what you’d needed. He’d pulled you up, and spun you both so your back was now to the wall. He’d swiped his thumb at the corner of your mouth, and then pressed it between your lips. You’d sucked on it automatically and he’d smirked.

“Told you not to waste any, baby girl. Now, let Daddy help you out. You must be drenched and aching after that.”

His other hand stuck its way up your skirt, deftly pulling your panties to the side and sinking one finger straight into your soaked pussy all the way up to the third knuckle. The thumb in your mouth muffled your moan, and you’d sucked on the digit harder as he’d pumped his finger. Within a few strokes, one finger became two, and then became three. Your hands had clung to Tony’s suit jacket as his fingers had filled you. When he’d taken his thumb from your mouth you’d whined, but he’d covered your lips with his own, kissing you, claiming you, and you’d cum on his fingers as his tongue had tangled with your own.

That had been three weeks ago, and nearly every day the pair of you had fucked in the office. You’d also had your theory proven correct - it wasn’t sex that hadn’t been as good as you thought, it had been those you’d been doing it with. Tony, however, could turn you on with just a touch, and could drag wave after wave of pleasure from you. It was addictive. He’d also unlocked kinks within you that you didn’t know you had. You called him Daddy, the taboo nature of it sending a thrill through you every time the word left your mouth, and his sweet but condescending degradation left you soaked and in need of new underwear.

Today you’d managed to keep your hands off each other until lunch time. Tony had buzzed your desk from his office at 12.30, and you’d picked up your notepad and pen as cover before heading inside and closing the door behind you.

He’d pulled you into a deep kiss, hands popping the buttons of your blouse and groping at your tits, before he’d roughly spun you and bent you over his desk. Your skirt had been pushed up and your panties dragged down your legs, which were then kicked apart to allow him access to your already dripping cunt. His plunging fingers had stretched you out quickly, before he’d sheathed his cock in you to the hilt, and set up a punishing pace.

Now here you were, agreeing you were a dumb slut.

He’d already wrung one orgasm from you, the evidence coating your thighs and you knew you were close to another. He never edged you, preferring instead to make you more and more delirious from overstimulation. At least today he wasn’t cupping a bullet vibe right over your clit - you’d had to spend the rest of the day sitting at your desk after that one…

The tension in your body and the clenching of your pussy gave you away to him, and he chuckled darkly.

“You gonna cum again, baby girl? Gonna cum on Daddy’s fat dick? Yeah, you are, aren’t you? Come on. Milk it. Make me cum too. You’re so greedy for it. Need your pussy full of cum to keep you happy when it’s not full of cock.”

“Yes, Daddy. Need your cum. Cum in me. Please!” You broke off with a whine, your pussy spasming, your own cum rolling down your thighs and your vision going black. You heard Tony’s own cry of completion, felt him continue to pound into you as he filled you with rope after rope of cum until it too was leaking out of you, mingling with your own.

You didn’t like to think about what would happen when the summer came to an end. Would Tony still want to see you when you were no longer a convenient fuck? And what would your parents say if they found out?

Your worries disappeared though, driven from your head, when Tony pulled his cock from you, but immediately replaced it with his fingers, pushing your combined cum back into your puffy cunt.

“You’ve got another one for me, haven’t you sweetheart? Gotta stuff that cum deep into you so you don’t lose any later on when you’re taking the meeting notes and your panties are in my pocket…”

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark fic #late writes #fic request #dbf!Tony Stark #Boss!Tony Stark

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respect-the-hyphen · 7 months

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So is Mr stark nice? I'm trying out for interning for stark industries and I'm curious!

Also when I said I was a sheep I lied lol I just really like sheep.

I'm going for the R&D department or perhaps PR management! I'm double majoring after all!!

(this is all rp and not true information about me ofc)

-📜

yeah!!! he's super nice!!!! you'd love an internship there I promise (but I don't really know what it would be like in R&D or PR cause I don't really work for him)

also good to know you're not a sheep lol

double majoring??? cool!!!! what majors?

#marvel mcu #mcu #spiderman #marvel cinematic universe #marvel spiderman #spider man #marvel #peter parker #queue #spider speaking #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #iron man #iron dad #irondad #tony stark

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ironfey-42 · 1 month

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Finding a Way to Get a Full-Body Massage [PHOTO EDIT]

IronStrange Spring Fling

AO3

@ironstrangehaven

When you massage someone,

the levels of oxytocin go up in the brain,

and oxytocin is one of the chemicals that drives attachment.

~ Helen Fisher

This is Post Endgame, canon divergence where Tony is alive. He’s let go of the reigns of being Iron Man and passed it to Harley. He’s still inventing for Stark Industries and hanging out with the others in the R&D department. He’s actually learning to relax and not be as stressed out 100% of the time.

He’s taken to going on spa days with Pepper as one does with their best friends getting pampered. Tony loves the massages he gets from the place. It got him so relaxed that he fell asleep the first time it happened, and well let’s be real he always ends up falling asleep every time they have a spa day together during the massage part of the spa day.

Tony’s noticed that Stephen has been getting stressed from all the superheroing and being a magic teacher thing, he plans with Pepper and Wong to get Stephen to relax and have some “Me Time” getting pampered cuz heroes need their “Me Time” too. Tony makes an “IOU” gift for Stephen for always indulging Tony in the things he does.

Stephen finally gets a spa day with Tony this time because Pepper knows it’s important to have some relaxing moments with your significant others (I lowkey ship Pepper/Happy/May). Having finally relaxed so much and getting pampered, Stephen just falls asleep and Tony finds him adorable sleeping like that on the massage table. Tony has the biggest smile on his face.

#ironfeyworks #ironstrange #fanwork #iron man #tony stark #marvel cinematic universe #doctor strange #stephen strange #magitech #strangeiron #iron's AUs

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ravarui · 2 months

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A box has appeared out of nowhere, it seems - it's covered in red paper, wrapped with a sparkling golden bow that's made of magic, very obviously so, and just sits there, on Tony's desk, waiting to be found.

Upon opening the box, Tony will find a small selection of chocolates inside. However, as ordinary as they appear, they are not; Each one will taste differently, magically adapt itself into whatever flavors Tony enjoys the most, no matter what it might be. Next to them sits a small bottle filled with a sparkling, silvery liquid, a small label attached to it reading 'drink me' - and, if Tony does take a sip, the drink will spread across his tongue, transform into his favorite beverage...

But that's not the most interesting part. Because what that drink truly does is to fill him with emotions, warm ones, comfortable ones, feelings that Stephen experiences when he looks at Tony, takes in the sight of him: Excitement, affection, desire, a spark of heat, a hint of giddiness, a deep thankfulness for the man to still be here, to have trusted him when it counted the most---

A thought will appear after, and it is spoken in Strange's voice, echoing within Tony's mind:

'I looked through fourteen million six hundred and five futures to find the ones where we defeat Thanos. Upon asking me, I said there was only one where we would be successful in doing so. ...I lied. There were multiple.

However, there was only one where you survived. That's why I kept looking through so many - I didn't want to have a future happen where you had to sacrifice yourself.

I'm so glad I kept looking, so glad I found the one future we live in now. Thank you for trusting me, Tony. Happy Valenine's day."

Valentines Shenanigans Accepting @mistrdctr

The tie is the first thing he rips off, throwing it somewhere without care as he runs his hand through his hair. While he had cut back on his responsibilities and was usually only called in for emergencies within the R&D department of his company, there were some meetings he simply had to attend. Not that Pepper couldn't handle these assclowns, that were currently trying to strike a good deal with Stark Industries, herself. But when it came to technological expertise his own knowledge was more than helpful. Tony hadn't even tried to hide the sharp smile that had appeared on his face as all colour had drained from their face upon him following Pepper into the meeting. But despite everything it had been exhausting and Tony had had half mind to curse them out in Italian.

His waistcoat and jacket follows next, as well as his shoes that get kicked into a corner as he makes his way into the bathroom. He needed a hot shower before heading down into his workshop to tinker and relax a little bit.

Upon arriving in the shop he's first greeted by his bots and it takes him a moment until he notices the box on his desk. He's sure that one hadn't been there before. There is only one person that comes to his mind that has the ability to make things appear out of nothing inside his home. Sneaky bastard.

When he opens the box his eyes are immediately drawn to the silvery bottle that reads drink me. He reaches for it first, looking at it from various angles before opening it. "If I drop dead from this one, you bet your ass I'm going to haunt you for the rest of your life Stephen." It's mumbled to himself before he downs it in one go.

The taste is a welcome to surprise and it makes him regret not savoring it more. The sudden voice in his head however makes him jump and he places a hand over his heart. "Goddammit!"

The words however were not what he expected at all and they struck something deep in him. He remembers the fight. How can he forget it any time soon anyway? It left it's marks on him quiet visibly. He regards his arm made out of nanites for a moment, yeah. He really had changed. But Stephens words. The fact that the man had kept on looking just to make sure that he survived. He wonders just what he had seen all these times. And then the last part hits him. Happy Valentines Day. Shit...that was today.

"Happy Valentines Day, Stephen." He doubted the sorcerer could hear him right now. Or maybe he could, with him one never knew. "And thank you....for saving my life back then." Because he wouldn't have survived without him and his portals. It was only thanks to him that Tony had gotten the immediate medical attention he had needed, or he would have died on that battlefield.

#answered ask #mistrdctr #Vday Event 2024 #i am iron man - tony stark #//THIS TOOK A DIFFERENT TURN SUDDENLY #//I DONT EVEN KNOW WHY #//but thank you for sending this #//this ask was so sweet #//I love them so much

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invncibleiron · 8 months

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@xgoldxnhour liked this for a starter

"What do we got?" Tony leaned back in his chair so far it was in imminent danger of falling over--in fact, it would have done, if he hadn't built the chair to withstand the gravitational force of The Incredible Hulk. That, like perfecting his newest smoothie recipe and building the stray cat that had entered Avenger's Tower a tiny Iron Man suit, were the only sort of projects Tony seemed to be able to put his mind to in weeks. To everyone else, when asked when the new designs were coming in and what his next "genius" invention would be, Tony smiled, winked, and told them all he didn't want to ruin the surprise. Only El--and JARVIS, of course--knew how dire things really were. The board of investors was going to be knocking on their door in less than twenty-four hours, the R&D department had pitched Tony nothing better than a new phone update that moved the charging port to the opposite side, and all the sketches across Tony's desk now featured a pizza donut hybrid and nothing at all tangible that Stark Industries could put on the fall market.

Tony crumpled up the latest design into a tight paper ball and tossed it into the nearby trash can. It landed, giving him the slightest reassurance that he could do something right--as long as it wasn't something important. He did not want to admit that top-of-the-line, cutting-edge tech company she'd joined was at a standstill, that her "genius" boss was throughly stumped. He glanced at the clock and swore. It was nearing midnight. "What are you still doing here?" he asked. He wanted her here, of course--as a friend, as a confidant, as...something--but not as his employee racking in way too much overtime. HR was going to murder him. "Go home, El. We'll pick this up in the morning."

#xgoldxnhour #v: avengers assemble #[queue] i will explain it when we get back; i will draw pictures; i will use puppets

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catierambles · 1 year

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too much tiktok and an overactive imagination

Elena Stark is the illegitimate child of Tony Stark and a woman he had fling with. She didn't ask Tony for money, try to blackmail him, or even demand that he be in Elena's life, leaving it completely up to him how involved or uninvolved he wanted to be in his daughter's life. For the first couple years, he didn't want anything to do with her, but then his parents died and it put a lot of things into perspective and he strove to be in her life as much as possible.

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree and Elena has a genius level intellect, excelling in mathematics and engineering just like her dear old dad, something they bonded over much to her mother's joy. When her mother dies of breast cancer, she goes to live with her dad in Malibu even though by this time she is grown and has a prominent position within Stark Industries in their R&D Department. After Tony joins The Avengers, she takes up residence in Avenger's Tower, working with her dad and Dr. Banner on projects to better Earth's defenses.

She gets along well with the other Avengers, becoming almost like a little sister to Steve Rogers and Thor, but has a semi-flirtatious relationship with Bucky. (yes, I took liberties with the team make-up, sue me)

curveball time

Tony gets a call from a professional contemporary and Elena is sent on loan to Wayne Enterprises to work on one of their clean energy projects. She's gone for months, but does eventually return much to everyone's excitement. She's not back long before a reporter shows up at Avenger's Tower.

"Did you schedule an interview, kid?"

"Sure didn't. Tell them to get lost, Jarvis."

"Yes, Miss Elena."

"Wait...what's their name?"

"Clark Kent, ma'am."

"!!!!"

Tony watches through one of the security cameras as Elena races down to the entrance hall, running into the man's arms and embracing him happily. He quickly realizes that this is not just a friend as he watches his daughter kiss this man, holding onto him tightly. She then pulls him up the tower to meet everyone. He's quiet, courteous, and polite and gentlemanly almost to a fault. Tony, being a dad, has Jarvis dig up everything there is to know about him, not that there's much to find, but Tony has a digging feeling that Clark is hiding something and he'll be damned if he lets this farm boy from Kansas hurt his little girl.

Clark ingratiates himself to the other Avengers, quickly establishing that he's in town for as long as Elena wants him to be.

Since returning from Gotham, Elena is plagued by nightmares that has her avoiding sleep for sometimes days a time, much to everyone's worries. She doesn't want to talk about what happens in the nightmares and all Wanda sees and hears when she goes poking at Tony's asking is a strange machine and Elena screaming in pain, Clark's voice calling out to her in panic before it all goes dark.

Elena flat out refuses to talk about it and Clark refuses also, saying that it's not his place and he will not go against Elena's wishes to keep it private. The rest of the Avengers are concerned as well, but they can't force Elena and Clark to talk about what happened and Bruce Wayne isn't saying anything either when Tony calls him for answers.

#henry cavill #superman #clark kent #tony stark #ehhh *hand wobble*

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music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul · 2 years

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#ironstrange #izzy makes edits #ironstrangespringfling

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illeaadante · 2 years

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What if a Majority of Stark Industries was magic

I love the idea of a Tony Stark who can’t do magic, but 100% knows that it’s real, and just doesn’t say anything about it because that’s none of his business and everyone else already knows anyway, right?

Like, he has no idea the magic is supposed to be secret and there are these laws prohibiting people from being told or whatever. He was a tech genius at the dawn of the internet, he knows why certain communities choose not to engage.

The first time he talks about “the magic happening at SI R&D” he is being completely serious, and the SI magic users are having a collective heart attack until they realize that no one believes that Stark is being honest, they just think it’s effusive praise and the hyperbolic speech businessmen are known for.

And once word got out that, yes, people are using magic at work, no, Stark isn’t going to lock you away or experiment on you, yes, his AI will delete that footage if you ask as long as nothing was damaged and no one was hurt, and no, you don’t have to use your magic/abilities if you don’t want to, I’d like to think that SI became an unofficial safe haven for magicals/enhanced people who, for whatever reason, decided to live and work in the mundane world.

First magical he ever ‘officially’ meets is Mama Rhodes, who is a kitchen witch. This makes it even funnier when the big reveal comes and Rhodey has no idea that magic is real. Like, Tony looks Rhodey dead in the face and calls up his mom, puts her on speaker, and tells her that Rhodey doesn’t know that he is also a kitchen witch. Mama Rhodes on the line like “Jim, I thought you had grown out of this phase.”

“What phase, not believing in magic?”

“Exactly.” Mama Rhodes nods. “You are the strongest kitchen witch in the Rhodes family in five generations and I can’t believe you’ve been wasting it all this time.” She shakes her head. “Well, I suppose I shoulda known when you didn’t ask for the King Cake recipe to find Tony when he got kidnapped.”

“...What???”

and, just, it’s great.

Imagine Tony going down to R&D to see what the wizards are doing, figure out how he can do the same/a similar thing with his tech, and get them to sling spells at their newest inventions as a magical stress test.

Basically the entire accounting department is vampires, except for Ted, who’s a dryad, and any employees that donate blood during the monthly blood drive for the accounting department gets three meals that month comped by the company.

Stark industries’ head of HR is a clairvoyant, among other things, and she keeps her department full of magically sensitive people and also werewolves so that they can tell what accommodations that new hires might need. They were convinced that Pepper was a vampire for a while just from her aura, but before extremis she was a baseline human who also didn’t believe in magic.

All of the magical/enhanced people working at SI were a bit wary when Pepper took over as CEO, just because it was someone new, but Pepper doesn’t bother to micromanage and doesn’t step in personally unless there are issues with the numbers or a lot of personnel complaints, so it’s really business as usual.

#Tony seeing magic not as a danger but as a challenge #the magicals are in awe of tony because this mundane human *built a soul*(JARVIS) and doesn't seem to realize that shouldn't be possible #I just really want someone to go up to tony #fully expecting that he would be scared of/disbelieving of magic #to find out that he knows that 79.6% of SI is magical or enhanced #he encouraged it #there is a *reason* he put accounting in the basement with R&D #Tony Stark #headcanon #I just think it would be neat

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sayahs-corner · 2 years

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Chapter One: For Your Consideration

Tony was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Which was, he thought with a bitter twist of his lips, the understatement of the year. Over the past three months things had seriously began to fall apart for the former CEO of Stark Industries. At the age of 31 he had been at the helm of his father’s company for nearly a decade. It was a sad start, to be sure, taking over a multi billion dollar company after both his parents were tragically killed in a car accident. But the young Stark had managed to do it in stride. To some he was America’s golden boy, but most people considered him a playboy. He drank too much, he partied too hard, he was too wild and unpredictable. His early twenties had been a string of bad press. When he wasn't making a splash across the headlines with his latest scandals, he was buried in work.

Work that he had to keep his involvement in a complete secret. There were a few reasons, decided upon by both Howard and Obie years ago, but the fact of the matter was that Tony Stark was an Omega. Omegas, he had been told since the time he was knee high, had no business in weapons manufacturing. Nevermind that Tony was an absolute genius, whiz, and could even give Howard a run for his money at the age of 14. Pretty early on his path in life had been decided. To the world he would act the Alpha. His Omega orientation would be kept secret by conditioning and suppressants that would hide his scent and Omega urges. He was never to reveal his true nature to anyone, and any work he did on behalf of the company would be done in secret and under an alias lest his true orientation be discovered and his omega status ruin them all. Because Omegas simply did not build weapons. Who would trust a rocket launcher dreamt up by a soft hearted omega? It was bullshit. Omega rights had made great strides since Howard and Obie’s time, but they had both been stuck firmly in the past.

He had all but single handedly taken over the R/D department at Stark Industries and stunned the world and delighted the United States Military with his tech. Tech that might have had his name on it, but none of the credit was given to him. Perhaps that was what had rankled most. It was his genius that was keeping Stark Industries from failing, from going under. It was his tech that was wowing the world and winning contracts with the government. And yet the only accolades he was given was People’s most handsome man of the year award (two years running, thank you very much).

Tony found freedom in his lab that he lacked everywhere else in the world. The freedom to simply be himself, his music blaring and new inventions coming to life beneath his fingers. Everything had been going swimmingly, if he did say so himself, until his old mentor and God father had tried to murder him and in the process put his tech, his weapons, into the hands of enemies. American soldiers being gunned down by black market Stark Industries weapons. Innocent lives lost and towns destroyed. No matter which way you sliced it, Tony was at fault. It was his weapons that had taken the lives of countless innocents. His name emblazoned on the side of those weapons that were killing the American Soldiers they were supposed to protect. He had been too wild, too carefree, too sure in how own genius and by far too trusting. He should have known better.

Putting Potts in charge as his acting CEO was probably the best move Tony could have made after he came back from Afghanistan and disbanded weapons manufacturing at SI. After everything that had gone down with Obie (the man who used to sneak him candy as a kid had literally tried to rip his heart out) Tony was finally able to focus on making the world a better place. Of course there was fall out with the press, backlash in the media, SI stock plummeted there for a bit, but Tony had been held back for years from choosing the projects that he thought would be most successful and with Obie out of the picture and Pepper at the helm he was free to work on what he deemed best for the company. For a while it was glorious. Tony could spend days, weeks, down in his workshop with the bots and Jarvis. He could focus solely on the things he was best at -which certainly had never been toeing the line and rubbing elbows with the upper echelon of society. He had no patience for his peers, no tact in the boardroom, or the endless press meetings that he was called to attend. Let Pepper deal with that shit. He could focus on trying to make the world a better place. Trying to redeem himself for the lives lost through his carelessness and naivety.

Things had been going well, at least in his mind. With Potts at the helm of Stark Industries they had been able to steer the company away from weapons development and towards more humanitarian technologies.

That is, until the late Obidiah Stane’s last will and testament had revealed that Tony Stark was indeed an Omega. It went to show that Obie couldn't go to the grave unless he was sure that Tony had been utterly and completely ruined.

The press had a field day with that one. He had been raked over the coals. His every action when he had been CEO called into question. The merchant of death an Omega? Everywhere he turned his face was blasted across the media. The board of directors had been outraged. Even though it was the twenty-first century and Omega rights had come a long way from where they had once been, no one wanted an Omega in a position of power at a fortune 500 company. Omegas were supposed to be soft. They were teachers, nurses, artists, poets and creators. The only thing that Tony had created was death and destruction.

It didn't take long for his rights in the company to be stripped from him. Pepper tried her hardest to defend him, bless her heart, but the board of directors and their investors were relentless. They wanted Tony gone, or under control. Their lawyers had dug around and found some antiquated laws. Because Tony had lied to everyone about his second gender, he could be convicted in a court of law of breaking about a half dozen antiquated laws that the Omega Rights Movement had not yet been able to overturn. The board had given Tony a choice. Go to jail, or pick a mate from one of the list of bachelors the company had provided.

Tony ground his teeth together until his jaw ached with the stress of it. He couldn't afford to go to prison or to be locked away in some Omega facility. There were things that he still had to do, people that needed him, and he could not put himself in a position to let them down. So Tony had swallowed his pride and taken the list of Bachelors.

He knew that the board approved list of potential mates were all willing to work with Stark Industries to hobble the wayward Tony. His Mate would have his vote on the board, Tony’s personal fortune (which was nothing to sneeze at) in his hands, and be able to either force Tony to create more weapons for Stark Industries, or stop him from creating anything at all.

All of his options were terrible. Tony went home after that ultimatum and straight into the bowels of his lab. He looked at the familiar and worn tables with the clutter of old coffee mugs. The scatter of papers and reference books that contained FIRST DRAFTS of potential projects. With a heavy heart Tony did what had to be done to years of his life. His work. His purpose.

He destroyed it. Once Stark Industries got their hands on his personal lab and notes, there would be too many conclusions they could draw that would lead them to places Tony wanted them nowhere near. He didn't want the bastards to have any of his tech. He couldn't afford for his weapons to once again fall into enemy hands. Jarvis and DUM-E were the only things left unscathed. Jarvis was incorruptible. And DUM-E? Well, Tony didn't have the heart to hurt the little guy, annoying as he was.

He had one shot at not completely ruining his life. He knew that there were at least 6 Alphas on the list that would use their right as his mate to strip him of his money and work. He'd find himself being put in charge (maybe) of the household and his only purpose in life would be to pop out little Alpha babies. But there was one name on that list that the board had put on there probably as a cruel joke. One name, one shot, of not having his company turned over to a minion of the board. One man who would never let Stark tech fall into the wrong hands. Captain Steven Rogers aka Captain America. There was just one problem.

Steve Rogers, rightly, hated his guts.

https://archiveofourown.org

#steve rogers #tony stark #steve x tony #omegaverse #angst fic #enemies to lovers #bullying #abuse #wip #crazy chickens

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yes-i-am-happyaspie · 4 years

Text

"Peace. It's all about the peace. Right, Big Guy?"

Artwork by happyaspie

Click for better quality

#happyaspie art #tony stark #bruce banner #hulk #science bros #dum e #stark industries #stark industries r&d department #marvel #mcu #iron man #digital fanart #marvel fanart

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spideyspeaches · 3 years

Text

Roller-coaster ↬ p.p

gif’s not mine

A/N: My take on What if Peter was in Wandavision? But with a twist ;) Beta read by my wifey @stars-aligning 🥰🥰

Warnings: canon typical voilence? mentions of death. Also the timeline doesn’t really make sense, just pretend everyone is of the same age. OH and Wandavision spoilers :)

WC: 9k (longest one shot I’ve ever written 😭)

Pairing: Peter Parker x ex!Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

"Ben? What's wrong? Why are you looking at her like that?"

"I- I don't. I don't know. She seems familiar."

"Familiar? Familiar how?"

"Like her and I don't belong here. Like we're from another world."

Working with Tony Stark as his intern, then head of the R&D and now working in the labs as the head of the department felt surreal, a fresh breath of air every time he looked at his desk, with his name written on it. It had been Peter’s dream to meet Tony Stark, maybe work with him too.

And then he got bit by a radioactive spider, giving him super strength, super eyesight and apparently super luck too, because though he liked to think that he was working in SI due to his intelligence, the spider bite did play a role in becoming his mentor’s favourite intern, without which he might have not had a chance to meet him hands on.

Tony kept reminding him that even if Peter had not been bit by the spider, he would have still secured a high position in Stark Industries, with his disarming intelligence that rivaled Tony’s own and charmingly trippy personality.

Peter begged to differ. But then again, he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in it’s mouth. Ever since he was a bushy haired, rosy cheeked jittery teenager, he had always worshiped the ground Tony walked on.

Peter remembers the day he got an anonymous letter, which turned out to be SHIELD's handiwork, asking him to join them in their base in New York, even if he insisted that he wasn't interested in being a superspy wannabe. He was skeptical at first, why would the most paranoid of paranoid agents send him a letter in mail? Him, twenty three years old Peter Parker, who lives in a shitty one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn with termite issues and smokes weed like the government is going to ban tobacco and is barely able to take care of himself with the overload of work.

Maybe it was just his Parker luck, or the fact that he was a freelance vigilante who looked after New York in a skintight spandex suit, because the safety of the people was apparently second in priority to the government. They'd rather have people die than have an illegal protector.

Yeah so Peter was salty, and what about It?

Slinging his satchel higher, he saw the sleek black car in confusion, trying to get a look at the number plate before the lift binged on arrival, walking into the open door. He swore he was either hallucinating or in midst of an intense flashback of the events that lead to what people dubbed as the 'Civil War', back to when he had been shaken out of his mind watching Tony Stark eat his aunt’s homemade walnut date loaf that had more salt than sugar.

His thoughts were put to a halt when he entered his and his aunt's old apartment in Queen’s after a long week of Spidey on mission and nearly getting (illegally) fired, footsteps coming to a pit stop. It's not like it's everyday you come face to face with Agent Coulson, Nick Fury and your ex not- really- girlfriend, somehow all in one day all together.

"So… um. What are you- What are you guys doing here again?" he asked, folding his hands on his chest defensively, leaning into his aunt's side as he whispered, "how long have they been sitting here?" from the corner of his mouth.

Fury raised a non-existent eyebrow, looking at him with a dagger for eye, making Peter shift nervously. Agent Coulson looked uncomfortable and You, You looked strangely in your element, sitting on the couch with one leg over the other, a neutral expression on your face.

Back when he was still in high school, when he'd first met you, he used to be in awe of how outgoing you were, seemingly adjusting in whichever situation you were thrown in. You had always accommodated to your surroundings, but with a start he realised that he had never seen you so… You in a while.

Not during your visit to the Avengers tower, not during the first time you came into his bedroom, all alone. Not when he had seen you take down a mugger on your way home from your first date without even as much as batting an eye.

"They were here ten minutes or so before you came home. It's creepy, as if they knew you were visiting," May answered with a whisper, wearily eyeballing them before moving towards the kitchen, leaving Peter unattended to Your and Fury's piercing gazes.

"I'm sure they know my monthly schedule before I do," Peter said, turning to look at the aforementioned agents. "So... you like, work for SHIELD, too?" He asked, wringing his hands to abate the tension in them.

"Yes, she does, but that's not what we're here for, Mister Parker," Fury said in his gruff voice, sitting back with a sauve expression. Peter gulped as Agent Coulson looked him in the eye, finally noticing the thin file he held in his hands.

"Well what are you here for?" Peter asked, mustering up some confidence as he tried not to look at You or the eye that Fury had that wasn’t covered by the patch.

"We need you to come to Westview, New Jersey with us," You said, a final no nonsense undertone in your voice. He shuddered when he heard you, remembering how soft and sweet you used to be. But that was before you disappeared out of nowhere, and apparently that nowhere was with SHIELD.

"Me as in Peter Parker or Spider-Man?" he asked, looking behind his shoulder to make sure May wasn't listening. It's not like she didn't know about his… nightly whereabouts, he just wasn't comfortable with making her worry. She already had too much to deal with, with the nephew by day and vigilante by night thing he had going on.

It was also a little concerning that the three in front of him knew that he was visiting her today. He wondered if his apartment was bugged (well, more than the daily roaches and ants) or if SHIELD had been keeping an eye on him after he had denied their offer, instead opting to stay in SI.

It was probably the second one, although the first one was entirely a possibility. He was going to need to talk with Mister Stark about debugging his shitty one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn.

"We need Peter Parker and his tech skills for this one," Fury said, before shoving the file in Peter's hands and crossing his own, “and my offer still stands.”

"For the last time, I'm not joining your little murderous boy band," Peter grumbled, scrunching his eyebrows as he looked at your twitching lips, as if holding in laughter. "I'm perfectly content with working with Dr. Connors in his little laboratory in SI."

Fury didn’t look convinced and opened his mouth to probably threaten Peter, when Aunt May came in with a tray of cookies. They smelled amazing, too good to be made by her, she probably brought them from Delmer’s.

“Oh- Were you…? I just thought you guys might want to eat something,” She said awkwardly, looking at Peter with pleading eyes.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, May! I would love to eat some of those, I’m famished,” You butt in, taking the tray from her with a smile.

“Um, May, you can um- you know?” Peter gestured, shifting on his legs, hoping that May would get the message before she stood for a minute too long. He didn’t like the way Nick Fury’s eye was looking at him, his tranquilizer gun suddenly visible from his leather jacket.

“Don’t be rude Pete, here May, I’ll help you get that.” You smiled, winking at him and dragging May by her arm, who was mouthing “she’s such a sweetheart” behind her shoulders.

"What if I told you that his man accidently got evicted due to some legal issues? And that now you're legally unemployed with severe financial issues that need to be looked after because the government suspects something illegal brewing?" Fury continued, looking him dead in the eye.

"Are you seriously blackmailing me? Threatening to unemploy me after all that shit you put me through with Mysterio?" Peter defended, raising a disbelieving eyebrow, watching you strutt back into the room, distracted by the sway of your hips in your mom jeans. He tried to shake the image, rolling his head to crack some tension that had built at the base of his skull.

"Mysterio was a mistake, Parker. This one is not; and we really need you for this one. Besides, remember that you're still a vigilante that hasn't signed the Accords of Sokovia."

Peter stiffened that the mention of the Accords. He thought the government was over it after the second amendment after the arrest of Thaddeus Ross, but apparently not.

"You said that last time and I almost died! My ex-girlfriend almost died, my best friend nearly died, heck half of Europe almost died because you Director Fury, apparently trust some superhero wannabe in a green and purple costume and overlook facts that could potentially harm someone. So the answer is clearly no!" he retorted, flopping the file on the table as he resisted the urge to sit on the floor flat on his back.

The three agents were looking at him with an unreadable expression, making him uncomfortable in his skin.

"Well, it's all up to you then." His voice had a finality to it, one that irked him to no end.

"Do I have a choice?" He sighed after a beat, looking at the three of you with a forlorn expression.

"Get your equipment ready, Mr. Parker. We'll be leaving for the camp tonight. You can read the details in this file." He heard Agent Coulson say (he was pretty sure his name was Phil), trying to make sense of how fast everything was going past the chronic tinnitus in his ears.

"It's Dr. Peter Parker," he muttered fruitlessly, blushing under your raised eyebrow.

***

"So, I didn't know you got a PhD. I knew you were smart, still are, considering that you're a PhD at twenty two," You said, sipping on your virgin mojito, and placing the mug in front of you.

Peter had taken you to a cafe after the confrontation, wanting to know more about your whereabouts and how he had not noticed that you were a superspy all of his high school years. You had retorted with a simple "I'm a spy, that's why,” which he found pretty badass.

"Well, yeah, I did my undergraduate and PhD together." He shrugged casually, looking out of the window to avoid looking at you.

You had always been beautiful, but somehow, you had become even more beautiful than the last time Peter saw you.

"That sounds brutal. Only you can manage that," You joked. You weren't going to admit it, but you had missed being with Peter, joking with him and watching his beautiful side profile as he blushed under your scrutinizing gaze.

"So, um. This thing, what is it about?" Peter asked, snapping you out of your daze.

"Huh? Oh it's a long story. Like really long, if this was a TV show it would take five episodes for me to explain." You gestured, dismissing his scowl. "Okay, so you remember that time when that super high security facility was broken in back in december 2019?"

"Which super high facility? There are a lot of break ins happening in high security facilities in America, and it's more than concerning, considering they're supposed to be super high security." He said, fiddling with his own drink.

"Okay, Yeah that's true. It was a S.W.O.R.D facility, and long story short, Wanda Maximoff kidnapped her corpse husband to reenact the dad-knows-best suburban lifestyle with an entire town held as her hostage." You said, looking over your shoulders to make sure no one was listening.

"Wanda stole Vision's corpse? Wait, is this about Westview? 'The Town that ceased to exist'? Is that what happened? Is this some sort of mind control thing? Cause I know she can make people believe what she wants them to..." Peter whispered, leaning in to show that he was interested. You took a moment to admire his front profile, his broken nose and dimpled chin, rosy lips and sharp cheekbones, accidently zoning out on his theories.

Leaning forward, you brought a hand up his face, pushing a stray curl behind his ears, cutting him short of his rambling.

"W-what?" He stuttered, his breath hitching, making the table shake with a wince.

"You have nice hair." You commented with a smirk, caressing his hair one more time.

"You said that in the senior's party too, and well, there's no sex happening anytime soon." He said, rolling his eyes, sitting back in his hair with his hands folded on his chest.

"I like being optimistic." You rolled your own eyes, heart beating a mile a minute at the reminder of your relationship- ex relationship with Peter, "so what were you saying about Westview? I kind of zoned out."

You watched him roll his eyes again, trying not to let your eyes wander around his biceps and the little bit of his collarbones peeking from his shirt, unbuttoned from the top, also exposing the thin chain that he always seems to be wearing. With a start you realised that it was the one you had gifted him on his eighteenth birthday.

"So this town, Westview, it just disappeared right? Behind a barrier of sorts? Is it like, coming from an energy source? Was it created by Wanda? " he asked, ever his inquisitive self.

"Yeah, apparently she's created an alternate reality, sitcom style, with the people of Westview trapped in it."

"So she's basically starring in a fanfiction alternate reality of sorts but a sitcom format? Wouldn't blame her, poor woman's been through a lot." He nodded, shifting in his seat. He could feel your eyes burning a hole in his skull, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "Are you staying in a hotel? Or a shield facility?"

"Nope," You answered, leaning back on your chair. "Am I still allowed to stay in your room? With the doors open?"

He watched you with narrowed eyes, tilting his head with a smirk, replying to you with a nod, "alright."

***

"Did you pack your mittens? The extra warm ones with a built in heater? You know you're susceptible to frost bites-"

"May! I packed my mittens." Peter murmured, ducking his head in embarrassment as he raised an eyebrow at your amused smile.

"Okay, okay, that's great. Socks? Painkillers? Extra pair of glasses?" she asked, fumbling around the room like she did whenever he went on field trips.

"Yes, May!"

"Great. Stay safe, okay?" Her eyes softened, holding his cheeks in his hand like he was a seven year old, living with them with a knowledge of death no seven year old should have. Sighing, he leant into her palm, holding his own hand encompassing her small one. Giving her a smile, he kissed her cheek. “Ti amo, May. I’ll call you once I get there, okay?”

She nodded, pulling him into her embrace, though she knew full well that he’s going to forget to call her, too excited to be in the vicinity of multiple certified geniuses and other figures of authority.

***

"Is there anything I should know about? Like anything unexpected?" Peter asked, looking at the camp in awe as the jeep pulled over makeshift gates, a bunch of soldiers surrounding them.

Peter was used to seeing the hustle and bustle of camps, considering all the missions he had gone through with the Avengers, back when Steve wasn’t retired and the newer generation of avengers hadn’t entered.

“Your blood’s radioactive, right?” You asked, turning to face him with a smile.

“Yeah. Why? Is that relevant?” he replied, raising an eyebrow as he saw someone carrying his bags before he could protest.

“Well, Dr. Lewis found out about this hexagonal anomaly, no one really knows what it is, but the source seems to be emitting huge amounts of radiations,” You said, getting off the jeep, pulling Peter out with you. Walking towards the crowded camp, you came face to face with the tent where everything was set up.

“Doctor Darcy Lewis?” Peter said, looking at the place in awe. It wasn’t extravagant, but the technology surrounding the tent, the vans and what seemed to be a broadcasting antenna were all way beyond the regular one used in tech companies, which is funny, considering he’s been working with Mr. Stark his whole teenage life.

“Yup, that’s her, nerd.”

“So, what exactly is this Hexagon? Is it, like, a barrier of sorts? Can everyone go in?” He asked, looking around with glinting eyes, lips twitching in a smirk as he saw the barrier in question. His super hearing caught the static sound it emitted, wincing at the sharp noises. His boots crunched under the snow as he felt the thing pull him towards it, your voice muffled by the noises of the hex.

It was something he had never seen before, like the static of a TV with a lost signal, glowing red in places as if reaching out to him. His senses seemed dull, the world greying around the way it had before he was bit by the radioactive spider. The spider bite had enhanced his vision in a way that he saw colours not visible to the human eye, a technicolour wonder that even Bruce couldn’t solve.

He felt a tug, looking down at his shoes, wondering if he had just imagined it.

“Mom and dad have been, not fighting, just like different.”

He swore he felt a white light flash in front of him, his spidey sense buzzing at the base of his skull, tingling all the way to his spine as he straightened up to dissipate the feeling, shifting awkwardly.

“Only Captain Rambeau has gone in and come back intact so far. It’s emitting a colossal amount of cosmic microwave background radiation, also known as CMBR, and once you get into it, your mind doesn’t really stay your own, so no one has volunteered other than her. Everyone knows the risk,” You said, startling him, a sharp contrast to the voices that seemed to have suddenly accumulated in his brain.

“If you’re going to break the sound barrier, please just take your brother with you!”

‘Sound barrier?’ he thought, looking back at the hex as it flashed red, the tug strong enough to make him stumble in his place. You looked at him weirdly, asking if he was okay, but he wasn’t listening, turning to ask you what the red flash meant, distortion evident in the barrier.

“Captain Rambeau? The daughter of the director of SWORD?” he asked instead.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“Damn.” He sighed, running a gloved hand through his hair, and dragging it down his face.

Walking inside the tent, Peter was hit with a face full of cold air, and the hundreds of monitors nearly gave him a sensory overload. The people running around didn’t help, either. “Where do I keep this?” He asked, pointing to his bag full of equipment that Fury had asked for.

“You can set up over here, newbie,” A new voice said chirpily. Turning around, he came face to face with the Darcy Lewis, eyes widening as he took in her smiley presence, another human who he didn't recognise standing behind her. “Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself! I’m Doctor D-”

“Darcy Lewis, I know- I’m a fan!”

“Aw look at you, you have a fanboy at your hand,” Captain Monica Rambeau said, strutting in and keeping a hand on her shoulder, confidence radiating off of her every pore.

"And… You are?" he asked awkwardly, looking pointedly at the FBI agent. He saw Darcy hide a snicker behind her hand, patting his shoulder and shoving him forward.

The man fell forward, steadying himself on the table before he flicked a card seemingly out of nowhere. "Agent Jimmy Woo, FBI,” he said proudly, a smile on his cute little baby face. Peter was left staring in awe, wondering how he had done that.

"Wait, can you do that again? How did you do that?!"

"It's cool, isn't it? I could teach you if you want."

"Yes, of course, but how did you do it? It appeared out of nowhere and if you take in consideration the law of conservation of mass, it can neither be created nor be destroyed and it just seemed to have accumulated-"

"It's a trick of illusion. You see, when I opened my palms, I-"

"Peter, let's set things up shall we?" You interrupted their session, a smirk on yours and the other women's faces, shaking your head.

Ditching the bag on the counter, he nodded, willing his heart to stop beating out of his chest. This was the coolest thing that had ever happened to him next to Tony Stark sitting on his aunt’s old futon. And the magic trick.

“This is the coolest day of my life,” he whispered, shrugging when you chuckled at his excitement. “Ned’s going to freak out.”

“Wait until you see the schematics and control panels.” You smirked, making him raise an eyebrow as he blushed, the flush apparent from his neck to his ear. The others scattered just as he finished setting his station up, fidgeting with the radio, when the voice of Hayward boomed across the cubicle.

“Ah, Mister Parker!” he says, a faux smile on his face as he looks at the station, making Peter shift uncomfortably. The weird tingling of his spidey-sense came up again, his hand automatically reaching there to scratch at the itch.

“Here we go again,” Darcy muttered, patting Peter’s back, her eye roll loud enough for him to glance at her.

“It- It’s doctor,” he muttered, hearing a “he gets me” from Darcy.

“Very well, Doctor Parker it is, then. I’m Hayward, welcome to SWORD.”

“SWORD? I thought this was a SHIELD thing?”

“...Fury didn’t brief you?”

“He did! He was just very vague, hence why I’m asking. What exactly have I been called here for?”

The silence that took over was palpable, with you shifting awkwardly as Hayward eyeballed them all, looking at the five of them morosely before saying, “Brief him Monica,” and leaving.

“God, is every higher official such a dick here?” Peter grumbled, watching him retreat, shaking his head as he threw the ball of paper he hadn’t noticed he had been fidgeting with.

“See? He agrees, I like him.” Darcy nodded, pulling him with her towards the briefing table.

“This all started when the town of Westview disappeared after the second blip,” Monica said, pulling up holographs that showed the image of people reappearing from the snap, his breathing increasing in pace as he remembered vaguely of his own reappearance.

The whole situation was fucked up. After stealing Vision’s corpse, Wanda had basically resurrected him, holding and controlling thousands of people, an entire fucking town. Looking at the list of all the missing people, his eyes zeroed on to one particular face. He racked his memory to remember who exactly it was, mouth hanging open when he realised who exactly she was.

“Is that… is that Agatha Harkness?” Peter said, pointing at the woman who had no name written under her photograph.

“You know her real name?” Darcy asked, looking at him with raised eyebrows as he nodded, wringing his hands around.

“Yeah, Wanda told me about her, she’s the witch from the Salem trials!”

“How is she significant to the plot, though?”

“She... she mentored Wanda, before she went to the dark side."

In the time he knew Wanda, she had been the sweetest person ever. She was like an older sister he didn’t know he needed, empathising with him on a cosmic level. They had come close before the events of Thanos happened. She was his person, and they shared a lot of secrets, this one being one of them.

“That’s one connection to her. What about the others? She keeps telling Vision that she doesn’t know what’s happening, but when the drone strike happened, she looked straight at the camera, like she knew,” Monica intervened.

“He tried to deploy a drone strike? In front of her children, after knowing very well that she saw her parents die in the Sokovian attack when she was ten? Is he fucking insane?!” Peter seethed, nearly crashing his fist on the table hard enough for cracks to appear on it.

“Peter, hey, calm down! You breaking things is not going to make the situation any better, okay? He already tried to chuck us out of this, you don’t go around breaking things now!” You said, holding him still as his body shook. You had never seen him this angry, and frankly, you would never want to see it again.

Peter was a sweet person, respecting people’s boundaries and always so understanding. He was the embodiment of good, even after living a fucked up life, he never projected his trauma on the other. He wore his emotions on his sleeves, and your heart clenched every single time, seeing him in pain.

"Listen, that's my sister in there, and she has no idea what she's doing. She needs our help and I'll do anything to help that woman and if you guys even think of hurting her I will make sure each of you regret it," Peter hissed, staring daggers at the silent team members of the room.

“Is there any way to reach there?” he asked, more softly than before. Darcy exchanged a look with Agent Woo and Monica, opening her mouth before knowing better and shutting it. “What?! Is there a way to communicate with her?”

“Follow us,” the brown woman said, breathing deeply as she looked at the other two silently.

"Where are we going?" Peter asked, fidgeting with your fingers. He hadn't noticed himself holding your hands, your lips twitching when you realised he had done that unconsciously.

“Trust me, I don’t know half the things these ladies do,” Woo whispered, and Peter nodded along seriously.

“Whoa, I feel like there’s a secret underground base here! Is there a secret underground base?”

“Well, it’s not underground, and not really a secret anymore,” Captain Rambeau said, unravelling a curtain, revealing a small space with a million monitors and a wooden desk littered with laptops and too many empty coffee cups.

“This is so cool,” You whispered, watching in awe as Dracy lit up the screens, revealing various codes and stuff you didn’t really understand. Peter was already invested, babbling about codes and addresses and hidden files within hidden files, things that flew over your head at the speed of Darcy’s fingers on the keypad.

Leaning on the table with one hand, Your eye caught a flat round metal looking thing on the ground, picking it up and tracing it with your fingers. “Is this… a bullet?!”

“Yeah, it was hit on that suit, which turns out to be 87% kevlar. That happened when Captain shot at it,” Jimmy answered, giving you a smile as you dropped your jaw.

“She went in wearing a bulletproof vest right? Wanda just… manifested a dress made of kevlar?” You wondered, your words interrupted by Peter’s yelp.

“So, remember how Director Douchebag ordered a drone strike on Wanda?” she said, contemplating her words next as everyone turned towards her. “Turns out he’s been planning something else.”

“What’s that?” Jimmy asked, pointing at the screen, which displayed two boxes full of what seemed like cells.

“That’s Monica’s blood work, he’s been tracking it the whole time. The first time you travelled to the hex? It changed your cellular structure on a molecular level, twice.” She said.

A sombre expression took over the older woman’s face, pursing her lips. “He thinks I’m gaining powers.” Monica nodded.

“I may not be a genetic engineer, but from what I’m seeing here, he’s most likely right,” Peter interrupted, a silence taking over everyone. “He’s keeping track of the enhanced, if I’m not wrong.”

Shaking his head, he clenched his eyes when he heard another voice. You watched him weirdly, reaching to ask him if he was okay, before retracting your hand.

“Chill out sis, it’s not like you can kill your dead husband twice.”

“You’re right. He’s been tracking everyone who’s enhanced, including Vision.” Dracy said, typing something on the screen to show you the map of Westview, pulsing red and blue dots appearing in your sight.

“Do you know what his endgame is?”

“Yeah. Rebooting Vision.”

Peter inhaled sharply, trying not to let his face show the anger inside him as he looked at Monica with wide eyes, both of them looking at each other dangerously, both of them realising same thing.

“Then, I’m going in. Someone needs to tell her,” he said, looking at the others for affirmation.

You took a step back, gulping in anticipation of his words. Reaching out with a hand, you stared at him, hoping he wouldn't lash out. "Peter, you have to know, the hex is a dangerous place. You won't even remember who you are so there’s no point in you going in. You won’t be able to convince her to magically leave her hostages, she’ll just see you as an outsider and throw you out-"

"Captain Rambeau went in and she was able to get out!" he argued.

"Peter, I was tossed out because she saw me as a threat. She might not do that to you but going in that thing is dangerous, especially with your mutations-"

"I don't give a fuck about my mutation! You of all people should know how it feels like to lose family, Monica," Peter said, looking at her. The fire in his eyes spoke volumes. No one dared to intervene.

"Peter, your mutation could potentially kill you. You know the risks of going past the barrier due to your enhancements. The radiations are altering DNA to a molecular level, your cells-”

"-are already metastasizing! My spider DNA is going to get me killed some day because my body won’t be able to handle it anymore, so I don't care, I'm going and that's final." He nodded, puffing his chest to show that he wasn't going to step down.

"Fine, I'll come with you then," You said, looking at him as you said that. A lump formed in your throat as you realised that he was so willing to sacrifice himself, and blood pumped in your veins as determination set in along with a rush of adrenaline.

"Do as you please." He shrugged, pursing his lips, but his eyes were a different story. You felt sick, insides tearing themselves up as you took a good look at him and his pallor, the artificial lights illuminating the scar tissues on his face. Ones that you knew were inflicted by his years of being the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man.

***

“Maximoff is never gonna negotiate with us,” Hayward said, circling the table as Monica looked at him with disbelief in her expression. “We’ll need all the guns we have here to stop her.”

“We can’t outgun her, but what we can do is try and talk her out of this. Antagonising her is only making things worse. If Wanda is the problem, she has to be our solution!” Monica argued, looking forward.

“She’s already killed thousands during the Sokovian attack. How do you guarantee that she won’t kill another person she finds threatening?!”

“She was guilty about it. It wasn’t her fault, do not bring that into this.”

“Yeah? Well, the guilt isn’t going to bring back the dead children is it?”

"The dead children aren't coming back, but those people trapped in Westview? They can, if you fucking let us!"

"Fine. But someone will be monitoring you."

Negotiations with your boss and commanding team of SWORD concerning the ship was a tough feat. you had finally convinced them to let you and Peter go across the border, but Darcy and Monica were to be on the radio in case everything went amiss.

Sitting in the (illegally acquired) van, you watched Jimmy, who was trying to teach Peter the card trick, invested in the trick yourself. Leaning forward to get a better view, you tried not to let the rush of blood in your cheeks get to you at the close proximity with Peter, heart pounding with every step you took closer to the hex.

“I did it! I finally did it, Y/N, look!” Peter said, showing you the trick, smiling at his childlike enthusiasm.

“That’s great! You should show it to Morgan, she’ll like it.”

“How do you know about Morgan?”

“I know everything.”

You may have been bluffing, but he seemed to have caught on your cue, the awkward tension reappearing as he shifted in his seat, twisting and turning and going back to the magic trick. You tried not to smile, but your mouth never did coordinate with your brain.

“We’re here,” the driver said, parking the van.

“Okay let’s go through this again: Captain Rambeau and Dr. Lewis will be on the radio while you try and get in, stay near a radio as much as you can so we can try and communicate, and do not try to meddle with Wanda,” Jimmy said, going over your checklist.

You were skeptical of the plan, thinking about how successful your mission was going to be, considering how powerful she had become in her own little sitcom. You had heard of her expanding the borders just after you had started driving near it.

“You ready?” Peter asked, taking your hand as you nodded, and wrapped your fingers around his knuckles, before taking a deep breath.

“I’m ready.” You nodded, looking over your shoulders to see the FBI agent giving you a thumbs up, muttering something into the comms. Looking back at Peter, you felt dizzy with the buzzing anxiety, the pull of the barrier strong.

Stepping close to it, you felt electricity buzz in your veins, shuddering at the chilling sensation and sudden exposure to stimuli, your gut twisting the more your hand went in the hexagonal anomaly. You swore you felt your physical being tear apart, your life flashing in front of you in a white hot light, your brain was practically mush with how much force you needed just to get in.

"I thought we would be able to get in easily!" Peter shouts, his screams echoing in your eardrums, mixed with your own screams.

"She's becoming more powerful the longer she stays inside, and so is the hex," You replied, gasping for a breath as you tried to move forward.

With a final scream, you closed your eyes at the static sound bombarded your ears, you couldn't fathom how loud it must be for Peter, sending a look towards him. His eyes were scrunched, hands curled around his head and ears to stop the sound. Before you could comment on his state, your own vision doubled, bright green and magenta lights appearing out of nowhere, the coiling of your gut intensifying, and before you knew it, the strong force pulled you inside, throwing you off on the hard concrete of the road, and everything went dark.

***

“I’m okay. I’m okay. Everything is alright,” Wanda said, repeating the phrase like a mantra as she sat on the couch.

She repeated the phrase like clockwork, just like being a mom to two half synthezoid pre-teens and the gatekeeper of Westview. Snapping out of her daze, she felt something in her brain stir, realising with a start that something had been messing with the barrier-- or, rather, someone.

Closing her eyes, she willed her powers, similar to the ones Tommy had, to look past the barrier, opening her eyes with a flash when she saw a familiar face.

“Peter,” she muttered, the brown eyed boy who she had come to think of as a brother materialising in front of her, dropping on the carpet with a thud as his unconscious form fell on top of Yours. Wanda remembered you from all the stories Peter had told her about.

Crouching down, she reached out to touch you both. Her eyes glowing red as she held a finger to your and his forehead, scrunching her eyelids as she navigated both of your heads.

A lonely young girl was seen sitting on a rock, the wind blowing wisps of her dark hair along with her dress. Suddenly, the noise of clucking of horseshoes could be heard, a woman coming into view as she got off her horse.

“Feeling lonely and afraid at the middle of the night when you’re a young and beautiful teenage girl?” the woman in the cowgirl shoes said, holding her hip as the girl nodded. “Well, don’t worry, every young girl must have a sword at her disposal!”

“A sword?” the young girl asked, tilting her head as she took the object in her hand.

“Yes, a s.w.o.r.d, my dear. Fear not, for the sword will protect you from all the hexes around you.”

The girl smiled, looking at the camera with the cowgirl’s hands on her shoulder. “A sword to protect the young!”

Buy now at your nearest convenience store, terms and conditions apply.

“What are you two doing here and not at school?” Wanda chortled, startling the two who were now very much conscious. The boy moved, fisting his eyes, and he curled his hands to stretch the kinks that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, the varsity jacket scrunching underneath his fists.

“Babe?” the boy groaned, messing up his hair, looking at the general direction of the girl.

Putting on a smile, Wanda folded her arms, biting her lips at how adorable the two of you were.

“Ben? Is that you?” the girl asked, looking at her disheveled frock with a confused expression, finally noticed the woman standing in front of her. “Oh my god, babe, I swear we were at the bleachers not long ago. Did you manifest teleportation powers now?”

“Miss Maximoff! You’re Billy and Tommy’s mom! Babe, we’re in Billy and Tommy’s house!” The guy, Ben said, his voice rising up an octave as he looked at his surroundings.

He couldn't remember much about the Maximoffs, except that his neighbours talk about the weird mom and dad almost everyday in the gossip sessions. Whatever, he wasn't interested in them.

"She turned them into teenagers."

"Well there goes our plan. Do we still have back up ready?"

“That’s right, kids. Now, what were you two naughty children doing out of school?” Wanda asked, helping the two kids get up as the boy blushed, stuttering an apology.

“We- we weren’t ditching, I swear, Miss Maximoff! We were just-”

"-Doing homework! Because… because Ben's a nerd and he doesn't like that he gets behind because of the baseball team!" the girl said, stuttering as Ben nodded along with her.

“Yeah! We weren't making out or anything! Even if we're totally dating."

Their relationship wasn't exactly your normal relationship. It was more of a… mutually beneficial relationship.

Well, so far they had the entire town fooled, having them all think that a guy such as Benjamin Fitzpatrick would ever date a girl like her, who liked her books more than her siblings.

"Hmm, well, thankfully, I'm a cool mom and I will not tell your parents about this… thing. Whatever it was. Anyone want cheesecake?" Wanda smiled, clapping her hands once as she looked at the two teenagers.

Ben's stomach growled at the thought of food. "You don't have to do it, Miss Maximoff, but I would love some," he said, sheepishly looking at the ground, and wincing at another growl.

Wanda chuckled, patting the boys back kindly. "Oh honey, it's alright. Come on, don't be shy, the both of you!" she said, looking over her shoulder and saying, "and it's just Wanda! Miss Maximoff makes me feel old, you know."

They followed her to the kitchen, taking in the interior of the house. Ben's eyes caught something from the corner, it was almost as if it was… flickering? Shaking his head, he dug his fingers in his eyes, wondering if he was still feeling the effects of the time he had hit his head during the baseball practice.

"You okay?" the girl asked, keeping a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"Yeah, probably the aftereffects of a concussion." He nodded, burrowing his brows in confusion.

"Hmm, should probably get that thick little noggin of yours checked by the nurse." She snickered, hitting his shoulders playfully. Her heart was beating fast, he noted, wondering how he could hear it so clearly. The thought that he would have to leave her after she gets a date for prom made him sad.

They may be faking their relationship, but he had caught on very fast and realised that he wanted it to be real. As real as the town of Westview.

Wait, what?

"You know we don't have to pretend anymore, right?" Ben said, looking at the girl as she came to a halt. Miss Maximoff was nowhere in sight, the house eerily silent with her heartbeat echoing in his ears.

"This is the best ship SWORD could ever make."

The awkward silence was interrupted by the opening of the front door, a loud jingle as Agnes came strutting in, a big smile on her face. It made Ben's neck sting weirdly, slapping his hand at the base to nullify the feeling.

"Hello, children! What are you doing, skipping school like the little troublemakers you are?" She grinned, pinching each of their cheeks as her voice took a baby-like tone to it. Ben took a step back, grimacing as she continued pinching his cheeks.

"Um, we weren't- we have no idea actually-"

"Agnes! Oh, what great timing! Were you here for Billy and Tommy?" Wanda came in, a plate full of cheesecake and crackers in her hand.

"Oh, Wanda, Wanda, Wanda! Your little troublemakers are already in my house, or did you forget?" She chuckled, the sound of her laughter taking a higher pitch.

Wanda furrowed her brows, opening her mouth to say something, before closing it, a grin taking over. "Right. Yeah, of course! They really love it there with you, huh?"

"That's right, everybody loves Auntie Agnes!"

Ben looked at his girlfriend again, feeling strangely out of place between the two women.

"Um, Miss Ma- Wanda? C-Can we go now? I feel like-"

"Oh, Ben, don't be ridiculous! Why don't you sit down and take a breather? You look pale, hon." Wanda smiled, setting down the plate and ushering the two kids on the table, both of whom looked at the table with hunger in their eyes. Well, it had been long since lunch break.

"Thank you for the cheesecake Mi- uh, Wanda, we appreciate it," the girl said, promptly digging in after the affirmation.

***

Vision knew something was wrong the moment Agnes showed signs of knowing what was going on. The first time it happened, he was sure his paranoid wife would do something, but she had continued to act as if nothing was wrong with Agnes' behaviour.

Walking down the road in his ridiculous costume, he nearly sighed in resignation, before he realised that he wasn't capable of such human actions.

One more thing that perplexed him to no end was his strangely human behaviour. It was as if someone was forcing him to act more human, some weird force that was so unlike Wanda's warm presence, something more foreign and way out of his realm (like the gum incident. He sure did remember Wanda chastising him for doing this atrocity, surely she couldn't have been the one controlling him? Right?).

His mechanical heart ached for his wife. She had gone through a lot, from what he had read from her thoughts; losing a brother (twice, if the absence of Pietro was anything but a confirmation), and then him (it didn't bother him much. He was a synthezoid, there was entirely a possibility that he could be revived).

He just really missed her, he realised. Their relationship had been strained ever since the boys were born. He didn't blame the drift on his boys, of course. He loved them to no end, would sacrifice himself for them, but he couldn't help but notice the change it brought in Wanda.

The arrival of Pietro 2.0 didn't help either.

His thoughts were interrupted as his feet halted their movements, and with a snap he realised that he had somehow made it to Ellis avenue, the border's static buzzing through his entire being.

"You look lost, buddy," a strange man said.

Looking at the man, Vision tilted his head, looking through the database of Westview to see that the man seemed to be nowhere in the records. How had he made it here?

"I- I'm sorry, who are you?" He asked, leaning against the car door to peer inside, the man sitting rigid. It was only then did he realise that the man's eyes seemed… glazed, almost like he wasn't aware. Looking back at the barrier, Vision gaped at the view in front of him.

The man's car was half inside and half outside the barrier, the slow moving particles seemed to be disintegrating the vehicle, watching in awe as sparks flew the closer the barrier came to the man.

"Listen, you have to get out of here before that thing destroys you." Vision tried shaking the man, but to no avail. His attempts were in vain as the man simply grunted. "Listen! Can you hear me? What's happening? Why is the barrier moving?"

He tried opening the door, but it was shut firmly. Groaning, he punched the door, nearly falling to catch the falling man, who was mumbling some incoherent mumbo jumbo.

"Wanda, what are you up to...?" Vision muttered to himself, realising with a start that the barrier was expanding and the man had come from outside the barrier.

Looking at the muttering man, he quickly moved them both away from the barrier, propping him up against the grass.

"I'm sorry," Vision said, his hands gliding yellow as he touched the man's forehead, his own circuits being bombarded with incoherent noises.

"Oh god! I'm sorry, please save me! Please, this hurts, this- you- you're the Vision!" the man screamed.

"Yes, I'm the Vision! Now, can you stay still? I'm trying to help you!"

"-Please! She's in my head!"

His hands lit up again, the yellow light smothering the man's forehead as he went still again, as Vision retracted his hands regretfully. Opting to leave the man there, he stood up again, startling once again that day when he heard a shrill cry, the body of… Geraldine? Appearing out of the barrier. Shaking his head, he was convinced that he was hallucinating, if that was even possible for a droid, and turned around to walk back home.

(Agatha gave a satisfied chuckle, purple sparks erupting from her fingers as she turned back to Wanda, pretending that that didn't just happen.)

***

"Do you think our school is a little… solitary?" Ben asked, inhaling a puff of smoke from the blunt in his hands. His girlfriend and him were sitting on the rooftop of Westview high, their feet swinging against the edge as she clutched at Pe- Ben for dear life.

Peter? Who was that?

"Did you see that?? Peter was right, that was Agatha Harkness and she's been the one manipulating the people, it never was Wanda! It was meant to be a plot twist, but I totally predicted it."

"Um…"

"What? I'm invested."

Peter?

Y/n? Can you hear me? Please say yes if you can hear me.

She noticed the static sound of the radio speaking to someone. The static noise increased, and Ben didn't seem to have noticed the small portable radio malfunctioning. Shrugging it off, she went back to passing the blunt from her boyfriend.

Boyfriend. The word ignited a flame in her chest. Ben, who she faked her dates with once upon a time, now was her actual, real boyfriend, who she was ditching homework to smoke a blunt with, uncaring of her nearing curfew. Her parents would have her head if she found out.

"Do you hear that?" She asked, exhaling the stale air from her lungs. She knew it was more of the deep breathing than the weed, but it made her feel serene.

"I've been hearing a lot of things lately." He croaked, clearing his throat, sniffing the air as he leaned back, his Adam's apple bobbing with every gulp. His glasses were sliding off his face. She reached to push them back up, smiling at the flush of his face.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, slipping her fingers through his, rubbing a hand on his back. His life had been difficult, she knew about him being an orphan, but she didn't know he was having a hard time with life at the very moment, her heart aching for the poor boy.

"I don't know, I keep hearing these voices in my head. Children screaming, people crying, and this… this buzz at my neck, I can't ignore it anymore! I feel like I'm going insane and I can't keep them quiet! I've tried, but it's like they're trying to communicate with me."

Her eyes softened, hands running through his thick, straight hair as he leaned his head on her shoulder. Suddenly, the height at which they were sitting on didn't matter, she had him in her arms.

"He broke the fourth wall. He's been hearing things, just like Billy."

Wiping away his tears, she kissed his forehead, rubbing her hands gently on his back.

"It's gonna be okay. You're okay, they'll go away soon." She reassured, folding her legs to get up, and pulling him up with her. "It's getting late, and mom will have my head if I'm later than curfew."

"You've broken curfew before." He chuckled, stepping closer to Her, his hands on her hips.

Moving forward, she enclosed her hands around his shoulders, intertwining her fingers at the nape of his neck. Standing on her highest tip toes, she crashed her lips into his, their bodies swaying with the cold wind.

"Awww, they're so cute! Exes to lovers, I like it."

"I agree. Didn't see the fake dating coming though."

"Right?! Wanda should start a production company."

"If Agnes lets these people go."

***

Meanwhile, Monica had managed to find an abandoned shack in the backyard of Wanda's neighbour's house, her body buzzing with a familiar tension.

Opening the shack, she saw the trails of purple, vein like thing running their tracks until they reached somewhere she couldn't see. She didn't notice another person creeping up on her, too busy looking at the trails.

"Snoopers gonna snoop," the voice said, making her jump out of her skin, and keeping a hand on her heaving chest to stop her from hyperventilating.

"Pietro?!" She startled, looking around to see if anyone had heard her. The neighbourhood was eerily silent, leaning against the wall, before deciding against it and squared her shoulders, looking at the man in front of her.

"Yeah, that's me. But who are you? And what are you doing in Margie's backyard?" he asked defensively. She would have found the expression comical if it wasn't for her racing heart and adrenaline filled brain.

"I could ask you the same thing," she said, folding her arms to show a defensive stance.

"I'm here because… I live here?" he muttered, borrowing his brows as his eyes glazed over again, "Yeah, wait, no... I live with my sister! Who lives two houses from here! What am I doing here?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

"God, this is so weird. First Wanda was being weird, now I am."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

***

Billy was afraid. He knew that he should be stronger and braver, if not for himself, then for Tommy. His momma always told him that the only thing to fear was fear itself, and he didn't know what that meant, but he knew that he had to be braver to get back to his mom and dad.

"Billy, I'm scared," Tommy whimpered. "I'm hearing voices again."

"It's gonna be okay, Mom and Dad will be here soon," he reassured, just as scared as his brother. They were only twelve minutes apart, but he still felt a responsibility for him.

Mom said that they both reminded of her own brother- Uncle Pietro.

Hearing the door open, he felt a chill crawl up his spine.

"She's here! Billy, she's here!"

"I know! I know! Shh!"

Her footsteps came closer, the cackling of her laughter making his heart pound. His brother buried himself in his shoulders, both of them huddled next to each other, as if the inevitable could be avoided.

"How are my best boys doing?" Agnes' shrill voice rang, making Billy breathe faster.

"We want Mommy," Tommy whimpered, sounding as small as Billy felt.

"Oh, I'm sorry honey, that's not happening anytime soon." She tsked, sounding as apologetic as the villains in the action movies his mom forbade him from watching.

"Why's that?" Billy asked, squaring his shoulders as much as he could.

"You didn't hear? Mommy's dead."

And his world crashed, his brain crowding with darkness.

A/N: Lemme know what you think! 😁😁

#wandavision #wandavision au #wandavision spoilers #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x stark!reader #peter x reader #dark!peter parker #wanda x vision #jimmy woo #darcy lewis #monica rambeau #spideygirl writes #queue tea

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h2obased · 2 years

Text

Another Word For Surveillance - Part One

Summary: You asked Bucky out. He said no. Cool. So how do you move on from that? Ha! You don’t.

Notes/Warnings: Bucky x Reader | Fluff, swearing, innuendos, canon typical violence (a smidge), light angst, pining | I do not give permission for my work to be copied/reposted/translated anywhere. I only post stories here and on AO3.

Word Count: 2,369

Series Chapters

Another Word For Surveillance - Part One

It sounded like an accusation, the way your colleague said “Bucky Barnes likes you.”

“Of course he likes me, I do his paperwork.” The keyboard rattled as your fingers flew over the letters. Red squiggly lines scattered across the page with increasing frequency, but you refused to stop and edit typos. A pause was all your work wife needed to launch an interrogation.

You didn’t feel like elaborating on the topic because you knew for a fact he didn’t like you that way. You’d rather not get into how you found out about it either.

“Eh.” Claire Chavez could sniff out a story a mile away because she’s a great analyst. That and her four-year stint with you at the Department of Defense. No detail got past her and sitting at the cubicle next to you in the Operations wing gave her full access to everything happening at your workstation.

She looked pointedly at the unopened pack of Snickers bars and a roast beef sandwich from Bucky on your desk.

The Avengers visited your office area often for briefings with analysts like you. It’s not unusual for Clint Barton to nap on one of the empty chairs while waiting for his meeting or for Steve Rogers to return case files with his comments scribbled on post-its. Man loved his yellow post-its.

Bucky’s tall, imposing figure standing over your shoulder as you highlighted cells on a spreadsheet and explained why Tuesday noon was the best time to order a salmon sandwich from Vic’s Deli was a common sight. The super soldier worked in your unit for nine months.

That’s right, the dark-haired, unassuming guy who could take out 10 armed men in close combat with a hand tied behind his back was assigned a desk job following his return from Wakanda. He occupied the table by the window. Nobody wanted that corner spot because it received direct sunlight from 9 to 11am, effectively warming the area the entire day, but Bucky didn’t seem to mind.

You often saw him staring out at the sprawling field across Grid 3 in the Avengers compound. Each grid contained offices and other Stark Industries facilities. Most admin and support function offices were in the first two grids. Operations staff and R&D teams worked in the third and fourth grids respectively. The Avengers’ living quarters in Grid 5 sat at the farthest edge of the property to give occupants as much privacy as possible.

Bucky glared at the view outside your office building like he couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong with the grass. There was a meditative quality to his silent judgement of lawn maintenance. You quickly learned how to distinguish Bucky’s resting face from his actual “I’m surrounded by fools” face.

Although he had been cleared for field work more than a year ago, Bucky continued to visit the analysts in G3. A few times a month, you found him at his desk, which remained unoccupied since he vacated it. Sometimes he’s there to study reports away from Sam Wilson’s chattering. Other times, he was there to check in with your unit head. Your boss’ grandfather served during World War II; she had a lot of experience speaking with grumpy war vets and Bucky had a lot of experience with war.

He has this thing where he’s automatically nice to military families.

Nobody blinked when Bucky approached you about an op update today, but when he tossed Snickers to your desk, a discreet hush fell over the room. You didn’t have to look around to know everyone within 20 feet turned their attention to you. Analysts not minding their own business shouldn’t come as a surprise. You and your esteemed colleagues on this wing were employed to find, study, and interpret data after all.

“Sweets.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of his voice. Regret consumed you instantly because why would you just assume he was talking to you?

Something whizzed past your nose and landed on your desk.

Bucky frowned. You hoped he didn't notice how fast you turned to him. Maybe he was just unhappy about nearly decapitating you. He reached out, deftly moving his hand above yours and repositioned the pack of chocolate so the front cover faced up. He pulled his arm back just as quickly as if your desk was on fire.

The analyst in you had long observed that Bucky wasn’t completely averse to human contact.

He enjoyed the solitude offered by his overheated corner desk, but he didn’t seem to mind when people lingered around his cubicle to look out the window. While he wasn’t much of a hugger or toucher, he’ll indulge Sam with the occasional high-five. Bucky and Steve Rogers put each other in a headlock on a weekly basis.

When the engineering lead fainted in the hall, Bucky caught her in his arms without hesitation. The entire floor wanted follow suit and swoon too.

After a facility-wide duck, cover, hold earthquake drill, he offered his hand to assist Claire off the floor. When it was your turn to scramble from under the table, Bucky rapped his Vibranium knuckles on your desk instead, urging you to hurry. What was the rush? He wanted to know if you had any Kit Kats left.

“Eat a banana,” you grumbled as you got on your feet without his help. “Take two,” you added when he only dubiously looked at the bowl of fruit by your desk monitor. You dusted your knees and watched him tear a banana from the cluster.

You thought he chuckled softly before he replied, “Yes boss.”

When it came to getting your attention, Bucky relied on office supplies. He rolled sheets of paper to nudge your arm or he tapped you on the shoulder with a folder. One time, he flicked a paperclip across the conference room table. It landed in your coffee, which made you yelp and interrupt Tony. Bucky raised his brows, a picture of innocence, while you pretended to have a question for the billionaire genius about jet propeller functions at high altitudes.

These were things that shouldn't occupy significant storage space in your head. Space you could use to remember decidedly more useful information like how to deal with a clogged sink or use a gun. You really should learn how to shoot or at least learn basic self-defense.

You eyed the Snickers pack, wondering how he knew you’d just run out of supply. “Thanks Sergeant Barnes, but you didn’t have to.”

His nose flared at the use of his military designation but he caught the slight tilt of your head, letting him know he had an audience. He sighed like a tired parent but the corner of his lip curled.

You ought to be suspicious, but the butterflies in your stomach wouldn't let you focus on a single train of thought.

“Fine but when you see the incident report, remember that’s what you said.” He jerked his head, tossing it back a few times to get rid of the stray locks stuck to his cheek.

As if on cue, a bell alerted you to a new email. “Do I want to read that?”

The gorgeous, steely-eyed super soldier shrugged. He wasn’t smiling but that didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling smug about knowing something you didn’t.

It wasn’t fair, those eyes. That pouty mouth. The way his brows shot up when he talked about landscaping machinery.

You cleared your throat and it was not because you were about to read highlights from the email. “Let’s see here… Six-car pile up, seven if we count the truck that turned on its side, confirmed minor injuries, two GSWs, road damage. Public Works recommends closures… for at least three days, which means… one week? Geez Bucky.” You checked the location pinned on the report. “Oh and it’s just off the Alexander Hamilton Bridge. The city’s going to love that.”

You barely got past “six-car pile-up” when Bucky started talking too, with raised hands, his low voice weaving between your stress-induced higher pitch. “Look, the important detail, which I’m sure the report notes, is that we got the bad guys. Witnesses, all safe. Check the report; gotta be in there somewhere. We got the bad guys.”

He moved closer and an electric pulse ran up your spine. The only way to hide your reaction was to fake indignation over the report. “Bad guys.” You hummed and pretended to skim the email again. “I can confirm the report mentions ‘bad guys’ a grand total of... zero times. I feel like we’ve had too many chats about why we don’t write 'bad guys’ in field reports.”

“You haven’t even read through the whole thing. And I stopped doing that because you asked me to.” Bucky crossed his arms. It was impossible to ignore how jacked he was, even under the hoodie and leather jacket.

You were done. So done. He could pass gas and you would giggle like a person with a crush, because, well that’s your affliction. A terrible case of having the hots for James Buchanan Barnes. You shouldn’t, but who gets to just pick who to like?

“I’m a fast reader.” Your ability to look him in the face and maintain motor functions was worthy of an Academy Award and an Olympic gold medal. Minimum.

He mistook your narrowed eyes for annoyance. “Fine, shall we call them unscrupulous businessmen in clear violation of Wakandan laws and at least two international treaties?”

“Alleged.”

He scoffed. “Please, not when I catch them red-handed.” He tried blowing the hair off his cheek this time. “Always making a run for it. Always get them in the end.”

People were used to the back and forth you’ve got going with Bucky. It was the only time they heard Bucky speak beyond what was required to communicate something.

You scrolled through paragraph after paragraph on your screen. “You couldn’t just ask them nicely to return whatever they stole? I’m going to be wading through this until after lunch.” The arms inventory alone had to be 20 pages.

Bucky had the decency to look sheepish. He nudged the Snickers pack closer to your hand before stepping away. You glanced just in time to spot it - the split-second rounding of his baby blues, conveying an apology for the hours it’ll take you to work through the case documentation.

He returned before noon with the sandwich.

“Do you want my lunch? I have to drive downtown with Sam and Steve.” He placed the take-out container on your desk without waiting for a reply.

Claire wasn’t even pretending to be busy. She spun in her seat to greet Bucky. “Hello again Barnes.”

You acted like you cannot see her watching you and Bucky, with a know-it-all smile and chin resting on her hand.

“Oh, um, thanks Bucky.” He just saved you a 30-minute trip to the cafeteria. “So what’s in the city today? Alien invasion? Unexplained noises at Bleecker Street?”

“Pizza. Crown Heights.” Bucky gave you a funny look, like aliens and sorcerers didn’t exist. He pointed to the sandwich. “It’s roast beef by the way, because it’s not Tuesday, I remembered. It’s from that deli with the angry old guy.”

He handed you an old man joke on a platter and you couldn’t resist. “You own a deli?” The quip stopped him at the door, where he glowered at you, but you could have sworn he broke into a smile before jogging down the hall.

As soon as he was out of earshot, and you hoped he was out of hearing range, Claire rushed to your desk to deliver her theory: “Bucky Barnes likes you.”

“Of course he likes me. I do his paperwork.” Your remark came quickly. Too quick for your own good. Your silence only encouraged your friend to proceed with her breakdown of the facts.

“Eh.” She dismissed the explanation. “He called you Sweets.”

Maybe Bucky meant the chocolate. Come on. You wanted to be cool about it, to not care, but the ambiguity bugged you. It banged on the door of possibilities and that’s a door that needed to be bolted shut for people dealing with unrequited feelings.

You shot your friend a look. “Chavez. He obviously meant the candy.”

“Oh honey.” She pitied you and she didn’t hide it. “We’re not going down the ‘just friends’ line. We’re friends and I don’t give you candy on a regular basis and the only snacks you ever send my way came from Barnes in the first place.”

“Girl, I wish. This is just bribery by junk food.” You waved your hands over the items on your desk and thought about last week’s Skittles from Bucky that Claire didn’t know about. Yet. “Trust me. Steve Rogers has more feelings for post-its than Bucky does for me.”

Claire didn’t look convinced, but it didn’t matter. It was the truth, one that chipped into your heart with every rare grin, or look of mock confusion whenever you asked him why heavy objects seemed to get lodged into concrete surfaces in operations he's assigned to. Or every time that blasted lock of hair refused to cooperate and cuddled his jaw line instead.

You could only guess why it’s called a crush - with all the heart-crumbling, stomach-lurching, and ego-shattering that came with it - and lordy, crushing on Bucky was a special kind of torture.

For the record, he wasn’t into you and that’s been made clear months ago. That’s not the sad part, not really, because people faced rejection all the time. You weren’t in a unique position.

Conventional wisdom said move on. The sting of liking someone who quite frankly only saw you as a friend would fade. Eventually it’d be a memory you’re supposed to be able to laugh at.

But for reasons that haven’t been made clear yet, this crush evolved into actual feelings, emotions bottled as you and Bucky went about your days, arguing about how many doors he and Steve kicked down that week and who ate the last chocolate bar hidden in one of the desk drawers.

Therein lies the soul wrecking and emotional torpedoing that came with falling in love with Bucky Barnes.

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I hope you liked the chapter. Thanks for taking time to check this out.

Part two

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