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espinosaurusrexex · 11 months

Note

*intensely thinking of final answer*

*game show waiting music*

I think I'm going with miscommunication with Bucky.

*presses button to log it in*

*game show celebration music* congratulations! You have a Bingo!!! 💗 This was fun. I'm hoping it counts as Miscommunication because, technically, it's only one-sided. But I loved it so much I had to write it. Anyway - enjoy! 🥰

summary 'cause it's a little longer: You’re the new recruit with mind-controlling abilities and Bucky hates it. But after avoiding you for a while and being responsible for several dangerous situations because of it, Bucky is asked to resolve his issues with you. He’s not amused, but amazing things can happen when people are trapped in elevators and it makes Bucky realize that, maybe, you’re not as awful as he thought.

Miscommunication (Bingo Game)

!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!

BuckyBarnes x Enhanced!Female!Reader

word count: 3.3k

warnings: enemies to friends (for now?), grumpy!Bucky, angst, swearing, sassy reader, arguing, and me trying to be funny

“Can you make people cry?”

“Sometimes.”

“What about making them dance real good.” Another man chimed in. You remembered him introducing himself as ‘The Falcon’.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Are you a good dancer?” You smirked.

“Is that a challenge?” He raised his eyebrows.

“What about farts, can you make people fart,” The ant guy asked with enthusiasm.

“I... I haven’t tried that yet.”

“Well, it would be a great prank.”

“I guess?” It wasn’t the weirdest thing you’d been asked before - you’d never forget that day your niece brought you to school for your magic talent... kindergartners asked the most unexpected questions. But hearing them from an adult was still a little unusual.

“So you can just make people do things?” The youngest of the group asked.

“Pretty much.”

“How?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

His eyes lit up. “Woah, so you could make Mr. Falcon go and get me a bowl of popcorn right now?”

“Careful, spider boy.” The man - Sam, you believed - warned.

“I could, yes.”

“I’ve never had this much power!” Peter rubbed his hands with a bright smile - his name was easy to remember with all the questions he fired at you.

“You still don’t, kid. Keep it down a little will ya?” The goatee man tapped his shoulder with the twitch of his brow.

“Oh, yes Mr. Stark. Sorry, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony,” he corrected.

“Right. Mr. Tony, sir.”

You’d been here for thirty minutes and everyone was all over you. You didn’t mind, really. On the contrary, you enjoyed that the people you would work with were actually interested. Well, all except for one. It didn’t go past you that one person had been watching you from the corner the whole time, not losing a word, simply staring ahead broodily with his arms crossed

“Alright, everyone,” Tony clapped once, “last question. I still have to show the rookie the rest of the compound.”

“Oh me, me, me!!!” Peter raised his hand and almost picked Tony’s nose.

“Barnes, do you have anything? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“I don’t need to know shit, Stark.” The brunette pushed himself off the wall, revealing a couple more inches to his height you had not noticed before.

“Don’t be rude, Mr. Barnes,” Peter pouted; he seemed to be adoring you already.

“I’m not rude. It’s just a stupid power that no one needs. It’s fucking dangerous and shouldn’t be part of the Avengers,” he exclaimed and proceeded to leave the room, making you feel a little sad and the rest of the team look baffled.

“Well... okay.” Tony turned to you, rolling his eyes as Peter’s desperate noises reached his ears again. “What’s your question, Peter?”

“Miss, I don’t think your power is stupid. It’s super mega awesome and I seriously wish I could tell Flash about it, he would be so jealous!” You laughed.

“The question, kid.”

“Oh, yes... can you make animals talk?”

-❁-

That had been about four weeks ago, and Bucky had been avoiding you ever since. He had heard what you could do the first day you got introduced, and thanks to Peter he had more than enough knowledge about how vastly your power reached.

Mind control. That was the fucking last thing they needed on the team. How fucking ridiculous. Bucky didn’t want to have anything to do with it, or you for that matter. It was enough that Wanda had the ability to read minds, he didn’t need someone controlling them on top of it.

So Bucky didn’t like you or your power or the danger that came with it, and he put a huge amount of effort into showing you his disdain. When you entered the room, he stood to leave. When you were assigned on a mission together, he tried to switch with someone else - earning him weeks worth of laundry duty for Sam and dishwashing chores for Nat - but that was worth it. And when he wasn’t able to, he communicated with you as little as possible, earning a couple of scoldings from Stark and Fury for not warning you of threats in time - but really, nothing bad ever happened, so Bucky didn’t know what the problem was.

And soon, much to Bucky’s relief, you started reciprocating the hostile behavior he displayed toward you on a daily basis.

Constant bickering, dangerous situations, and death stares were your new M.O. but Bucky knew it only meant for you to finally back off. Because you had tried to be nice to him in the beginning, and Bucky felt a little bad for making you sad, but it was nothing to how sorry he would be if he ever let you in.

A gunshot sounded through the crackly speaker.

“Fuck!”

Followed by a round of grunts and hits of which a fair amount landed in Bucky’s ribs and face.

“Oh right, there’s a hostile headed your way. Sorry, must’ve slipped my mind. I’m a little ‘careless’ at times.”

Yep, that one had hurt. But he’d rather pack a punch than retract his comment about your being careless. Because that’s what you were - or rather your ability. Careless and dangerous.

Bucky watched as Steve crossed his arms after pausing the recording, his captain stare in full force as he watched his best friend lean back in his chair unimpressed.

“Buck, you know I don’t want to do this but it's also my job to make sure my team is conducting missions safely. So, what’s wrong? You don’t usually act this way - even with people you don’t like - so don’t even try.”

Bucky just huffed, crossing his arms as well. He didn’t feel the need to respond. This was ridiculous; everyone should see how dangerous you were.

“You got a chance to solve this the easy way here. Help me out a little, pal. If you don’t cooperate, I need to apply official protocol. So tell me, please, what’s the problem?” Steve’s eyebrows were raised in anticipation, but Bucky was too sulky to help. To hell with this ‘I’m your friend-‘crap - he should go ahead and apply official protocol, maybe they’d see that your ability alone probably violated six paragraphs of the Avengers’ Oath.

He bit his tongue before losing another comment swirling in his head, looking out the window to distract himself from the unfortunate situation he found himself in. Bucky hated when Steve became all professional with him. It was stupid.

“You’re putting yourself and the team in danger,” Steve tried again, “there must be a reason for your behaving like this. Let me fix it. Let me help-”

“I don’t need fixing!” Bucky snapped, his eyes finding Steve’s in a heartbeat as he leaned forward in his chair.

“Then what is it? Do you like her? Is that why you're being so...” The blonde’s hand flailed in the air as he tried to find the words to describe Bucky’s behavior.

“Fuck no.” He leaned back again.

“Language,” Steve warned, only to earn a side eye from his friend.

Bucky knew exactly why he avoided you. And so should Steve. He was his best friend for fuck’s sake. This was the most unnecessary conversation he’s ever had. If anything, Steve should have his back and not try to ‘fix him’.

“You should talk to her.”

“Funny.”

“I’m being serious. What’s the issue?”

“You know damn well what the issue is, Steve!” Bucky rose from his chair but Steve didn't flinch. He merely scolded him for his cursing again.

But after a minute of blank staring at each other, Steve broke the silence again. “You’re scared.”

And Bucky exhaled a long breath before training his eyes on the ceiling. “Of course I’m scared, Steve! There is nothing worse than not being in control.” He looked at him. “Im gonna hurt people. I have before. And being close to her... It just makes the possibility of the winter soldier returning a lot more likely.”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

“You don’t know that. She’s had no training; it could happen accidentally.

Steve was quiet for a while, just looking at his friend, assessing his comment. Bucky could see the wheels turning behind his eyes and after a while, he just stared out the window again until the blonde would present another righteous monologue to him.

“You should tell her,” Steve finally said and Bucky wondered why it had taken him so long to come up with a sentence he’d already said.

“I don’t need to tell her shit. Just keep her away from me.” He rolled his eyes, but he was desperate at this point. Bucky just wanted to go - leave and stop being bothered by everyone.

Steve just shook his head in defeat - Bucky had done it again. Successfully shaken the unavoidable for today. He smiled to himself as he turned to leave the conference room. But before he could reach the last chair on his way, Steve held him back one last time.

“She’s a very nice person, you know? And your attitude towards her is affecting everyone on the team. Maybe, if you could look past your issues with her... You’d see how nicely she fits in with us.” Steve cocked his head to the side with a small smile. “I’m sure you’d get along if you just took the time to get to know her...”

But Bucky only replied with a bitter ‘shut up, punk’ before averting his eyes again. He didn’t like this at all.

Steve sighed. “Just promise me you’ll do something.”

Bucky shot him one last look before turning and leaving without another response.

-❁-

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Bucky looked at you through hooded eyelids upon your entering the elevator.

You just ignored him. You had tried to be nice long enough, tried to make him your friend one too many times, each one teaching you just how vain the attempt had been. Because if you had learned one thing about Bucky Barnes over the past month, it was that he hated your guts and that he was not willing to try and be civil with you. So, you saw no reason to be nice anymore.

“Don’t act like it's my pleasure either.” You turned and faced the door after pushing the buttons to your floor.

Bucky just huffed behind you and you held your head a little higher, trying to let the seconds pass until you could leave again. It’s only an elevator ride - how hard could it be? But time seemed to pass slower than usual, and the unsteady rattling of the glass chamber going up the tower made the whole ordeal that much more unpleasant.

That was until it suddenly stopped, a screeching sound echoing through the small space until the elevator halted abruptly, making you lose your balance for a brief moment.

“What the-“ you muttered and pressed the floor button another time. Then again. And again. But nothing happened.

You tried the emergency call button, but again, nothing. You were stuck. Several hundred feet in the air with Bucky Barnes. Great.

You took a deep breath, there were worse things, you tried to calm yourself, but upon stealing a glance over your shoulder, only to see Bucky glaring at you, that attempt disintegrated. Still, you chose to ignore him. You’d get out of here eventually. Someone would notice you were missing and look for you, check the security cameras, maybe - do something and finally break open these damn elevator doors.

But then Bucky began to shuffle behind you, his steps clicking on the tiled floor of the lift, and uneven pace interrupted by the confines of the small room and it agitated you. It was enough you were stuck in an elevator when you had work to do. Now you couldn’t even concentrate.

“Would you stop pacing?” You finally snapped and turned around only to see Bucky staring at you with wide eyes.

But he caught himself quickly. “What’s it matter to you?”

“It’s annoying. And as much as I hate to be stuck in here with you, we need to find a way not to kill each other until someone comes to help.” You turned back around taking another deep breath and enjoying the silence.

It didn’t last long though because the shuffling picked back up again soon. You waited another minute, but when Bucky made even more noise, a thudding sound coming from behind, you whipped around again to yell at him.

But you stopped in your tracks as you saw him kneeling on the floor, his head tugged beneath his arms as his shoulder heaved rapidly.

“Wha-“You moved forward to help but-

“Stay away from me!” He spat with fire in his eyes and then his head was back between his knees.

You took a step back and assessed the situation. The posture, the heavy breathing, the slight shudder in his hands, the constant rocking. He was scared. He was having a panic attack.

And as much as you wanted to avoid him, you were not cruel. When someone needed help, you helped. “Bucky-“

“I said stay the fuck away!” He crawled back into the corner.

You held your hands up in surrender, carefully trying to speak again. “I just want to help-“

“Well, I don’t need your help. Just back off!” The elevator shook with the boom of his voice, making your breath hitch.

That was it, the last straw. All the pent-up anger of the past weeks bubbled to the surface, desperation and cluelessness balling up in frustration. You could barely feel it crawl up your body before you opened your mouth and screamed back. “What's your problem Bucky? I want you to feel better! What did I do that makes you hate me so much?!”

Your chest heaved in anger, your hands balling into fists as you watched Bucky get up slowly - eyes darker than you’d ever seen before. His arm whirred but he didn’t move it. He merely stepped a little closer to you, towering over you when his husky voice mumbled into the space between you.

“I don’t hate you.” You swallowed and stared up at him, he was intimidating. “I’m fucking scared to lose control and-“ his vibranium arm shot up towards you but you stopped it in its tracks. Bucky’s fist was hanging in the air above you, your power holding him off and it took a fair amount of strength to do so. His eyes shot from his fist back to you, jaw tensing.

“I would never do that.”

“You’re telling me I’m irrational?” He hinted towards his arm still held back by your control and you immediately let it fall back to his side. “...that it couldn’t happen by accident?”

“You underestimate me, Bucky.” You pressed with spite, willing him back a step to leave you space to breathe again.

“I don't know you.”

“And who’s fault is that?” That shut him up.

Bucky flexed his vibranium fingers, testing his own control again before his eyes found you again.

“Let me show you.” You tried softly. Maybe this was the gateway to a start-over. At least now you knew the issue, now there was only solving it left.

Bucky looked at you questioningly.

“Let me show you why you don’t need to be scared.” You smiled and somehow it softened the tension around you.

Bucky’s shoulders relaxed when he stood up straighter. “And why would I want that?” He was stubborn.

“I’m offering an olive branch here. And after all that you have pulled, I suggest taking it. Because I cannot guarantee I’ll feel this nice again if you don’t.”

Bucky watched you carefully for a moment. As if he was trying to detect a joke in your statement, he analyzed every inch of your body suspiciously. And then after another minute, he sighed in defeat.

“Then we need to get out of here.”

-❁-

Bucky was still a little wary now that you had dragged him outside. The sun was shining in the bright blue sky but having you stand so close to him was still making him nervous. He had no idea what he had just signed up for.

There were a few people outside as well, all going about their days and when he turned his head to you, he noticed you watching them intently.

“I can feel their energy,” you stated, making Bucky check if anyone was behaving as though he was influenced by you in any way - they weren’t.

“And, yes, I can make living beings succumb to my will, but when I do, I feel their pain, their mental wars...” You looked at him and Bucky could feel your eyes pushing through to his deepest fears. “I wouldn’t make them do anything I wouldn’t want to endure myself... unless, of course... it’s necessary.”

Bucky thought back to a mission a while back. You had been utilized to make a hostile talk using rather unorthodox strategies. This time you actually had to hold them in place - position their limbs in places they shouldn’t be. He closed his eyes when he remembered your death cries. They had been hunting him for days. But other than you, the hostile had been killed.

“You’re mentally linking with them,” he whispered almost ashamed for not noticing it earlier. Everyone on the team probably knew it already - he had just never taken the time to listen.

“Yes.” He swallowed thickly, watching as you turned to him fully and he mirrored your action.

“If I were to make you- if I..,” you trailed off, took a deep breath, and shook your head. “I wouldn’t do that.”

And that’s when Bucky finally understood. All this time he had avoided you, fought with you, and despised you for thinking you’d be cruel for fun. He felt awful.

Your name slipped from his lips for the first time, calling your attention to his sorrowful eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

You nodded. “It’s okay. I understand it’s scary. I was scared of it, too, when I first found out... But I had a lot of time to learn. And now... I actually know how to utilize my power - control it. It even has some perks.”

Bucky’s eyebrows raised intrigued. A silent question to which you only responded by carefully reaching your hand out so his flesh one.

“Can I?” You asked before actually taking it and Bucky just nodded while watching you carefully.

He felt a lot calmer than he had before. And when you finally touched his calloused fingers, there was no urge to pull away like there had always been. You smiled at him and then nodded up to the sky, urging him to follow your stare.

“Look,” you whispered, and then Bucky felt his spine tingle. All of a sudden, it felt like his feet were lifted off the ground - smooth and subtle - almost comforting, he was engulfed by the feeling of floating - no - flying.

His eyes followed the birds in the sky, which were now rounding effortless constellations several feet above his head and Bucky just knew that they were feeling the same - exactly the same. It was amazing, and even though it was a little strange and scary, your hand holding his made him feel unusually safe.

After a while, Bucky felt the feeling subside, the birds in the sky stopped flying above him and continues their journey east again. Your hand left his but he still felt lighter than he had ever before.

His smile found you. “That’s actually pretty amazing,” he beamed before looking at the birds passing him and then back to you again.

“Yeah... it is.” You smiled as well and Bucky felt all his doubts about you float away with the feeling this extraordinary experience had brought him.

Maybe mind control wasn’t as ridiculous and careless as he had thought it to be...

if you liked this fic, please tell me - it means so much 💓

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yes-i-am-happyaspie · 4 days

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OK OK BUT JOY, the prompt: “If you die, I die. Don’t you get that!” Between Irondad?! Either way! ASDGHJKL ANGST

AHHHH!!! Mini-fic time?? Yes. Yes, Mini-fic time.

Here it is, at 997 words. A lot of action, leading to a short panic-induced argument... and a hug. Because of course, there is a hug. :D Enjoy!! [click here for a reversed use of this prompt]

If You Died...

Peter hadn’t meant to get in over his head. It was just- he needed to keep his neighborhood safe, and he had powers. It wasn’t like he could see a problem and just walk away. But he had been careful. He’d used his tools and his abilities to access the situation. He’d asked his AI to run facial recognition on everyone involved and had cross-referenced their information through several databases; just to make sure he knew what he was up against.

Three regular guys, selling regular drugs inside a regular empty warehouse. That was it. Nothing about it had been alarming or ominous. So, taking them out should have been easy. And technically it was. It was the swarm of armed individuals that had flooded in after that had been the problem. He had that too for a while. Then the big guys came in. Three of them, with large shoulders and enhanced strength that matched his own. He was having a difficult time dividing his attention between the projectiles and the hands being aimed at his face.

“Karen?” He dodged, while shooting webs that never seemed to hit their mark. When they did, they never held for long. The big guys busted right out of them. “A little back up would be nice.”

“Of course, Peter. Contacting Mr. Stark.”

Peter ducked and slid beneath one of the large men’s legs. “Wait! Isn’t- Is Captain America available?” He spun around, sending his foot into the guy's knee cap. The impact made no difference; like a child kicking a fencepost. “Maybe Black Widow? Hawkeye?”

There was no debate. “Mr. Stark is already in route.” Three dots appeared on his HUD along with an ETA.

Peter wanted to fret over his mentor's imminent arrival but there wasn’t time. Whenever he thought he had one of the men restrained, they broke free and he had to start over again. One down, two to go. Two down, one- no, still two to go. It was a vicious cycle.

Ten minutes later a blast came from the right. A hole appeared in the wall and Iron Man, gauntlets ablaze, flew through it. Peter looked up. The momentary distraction allowed enough time for a football sized fists to make contact with his stomach. He flew backwards, through a spray of ammunition, and landed in the wall.

The comms crackled to life. Peter wished they hadn't. Pain was already radiating from the back of his skull down and down his spine. When Mr. Stark shouted his name, his ears began to ring. Dazedly, he looked up. Mr. Stark was swooping around the room. Metal clanked and repulsors whirred. Peter struggled to get to his feet to help. Mr. Stark’s voice was back in his ears.

“Stay down, Spider-Man! You’re done!”

Peter blinked. He took stock of his body. The blow had hurt, but he had enhanced strength and a healing factor. He shook out his limbs and demeaned himself well enough to continue. “I’m good. Just a little-”

He didn’t get to finish. Mr. Stark flew by, lifted his faceplate and scowled. “I said you’re done!”

The tone gave Peter pause. Reluctantly, he slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. “I’m really okay,” he whispered, despite his throbbing head.

“And I’m really not discussing this will you,” Mr. Stark quipped. “I’m just about done here. You stay put. Capice?”

Peter nodded and looked around. Most of the little guys had fled. And only one of the larger men remained standing. Clearly his webbing needed an upgrade. Maybe taser webs with a manual detonation. A range of fifty to ninety thousand volts would probably do it. Could the suit handle that without increasing the power? He was unable to finish the math before Mr. Stark was in front of him.

“Let’s go.”

Peter allowed himself to be lifted to the top of a nearby water tower. He pulled his mask off and ran a hand over his sweaty forehead. “Mr. Stark, I-”

“Do you have any idea who those people are, what they’re capable of?” Mr. Stark gestured wildly toward the warehouse.

Peter shifted his feet. “I didn’t-”

“Didn’t what? Didn’t know? Of course you didn’t. Did you even stop to ask?” Mr. Stark wrapped his fingers tightly around his wrist. “There were two dozen lacheys and three giant bruises in there! What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t- it was three normal guys when I started!” he half-shouted. It wasn’t his fault, but Mr. Stark didn’t look keen to listen. “The others just- showed up!”

Mr. Stark took a step forward. “You could have died in there, Peter!”

“I wasn’t going to die!” he defensively shouted. “I have super-powers and I did call for back-up!”

“Your AI said you had been going at it for over an hour before you called! Peter-” Mr. Stark looked frantic with his hands running through his hair. “Peter, I don’t know how to explain this to you any more clearly. I-” His face dropped, all blood draining from his face. “What if you had died? Then what?”

Frustrated, Peter gritted his teeth. “It’s on you.”

Mr. Stark blinked. “No. No, bud. That’s not- geez.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, his breaths increasing as he spoke. “Pete. If you die, I die! Do you get that? If you die- I will never recover. I will-”

Peter’s brows furrowed with realization. Mr. Stark was having a panic attack. “Are you okay, Mr. Stark?”

Mr. Stark’s head shot up, his eyes wide and pupils dilated. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” Peter stepped closer, his hand going to the back of his hair. “My head hurts but that’s it..”

Without warning, he was pulled into a tight hug.

“Just- promise me you won’t wait so long to call for help next time. Because- Peter? Peter, I can’t lose you.”

Eyes closed tight, Peter nestled his face into Mr. Stark's chest. “I promise, Mr. Stark. You won’t lose me.”

#thanks for the ask!#happyaspie mini fic #peter parker #tony stark #irondad and spiderson #iron man #spider-man #marvel #mcu #light angst #peter parker gets a hug #panic attack #irondad

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supercap2319 · 8 months

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In the communal shower in The Avengers locker room Uncle Steve spots a bite mark on Y/A Stark after a training session.

Y/N enjoyed spending time with his uncles. Even though technically they weren't his uncles by blood, they were his dad's best friends and he considered them family. He bonded with each of them differently. Archery with uncle Clint. Chemistry and science with uncle Bruce. Slamming coffee cups on the ground with uncle Thor. And workouts with uncle Steve and uncle Bucky. Sometimes together, and sometimes separate.

Today was separate. Y/N and Steve were hitting the sand bags as he watched his super-soldier uncle send a bag off its hinges and hit the wall. They watched it fall with a thud as Steve looked at him and blushed. "I think that's enough for today, don't you think?"

Y/N laughed. "Yeah. Dad will never know who was responsible for this." Steve blushed again.

Another thing about his uncles is that they could shower with their pesudeo-nephew and not make it weird. Nakedness had no effect on him, but he did get embarrassed when his uncle Thor examined his manhood to make sure he was developing right for his epic conquests in the bedroom.

So, to see his uncle Steve all bare and wet was nothing shocking or wonderful, but he was big everywhere. He can understand why uncle Bucky married him. Y/N would have been fine without getting caught in his sexual activities with Peter Parker, but he forgot that the prick bit his ass this morning and the bite marks were still present as Steve looked at his nephew's ass and frowned when he saw the purple marks.

"Y/N? Did someone bite your butt and leave hickey marks?"

He instinctively put a hand to cover his butt cheek, but it was too late. Steve saw. He blushed and opened his mouth to lie, but he was cut off by his uncle's military stare. "The truth, son."

Y/N blushed. "It's from Peter Parker."

Steve blinked. "As in your dad's intern?"

"That's right. And when I told uncle Bucky, he was like–"

"Wait, you told your uncle Bucky, but you didn't tell me?"

"I'm sorry, but I wasn't planning on telling anyone. It just happened. And I was embarrassed to say anything because I despise this guy, and it's like every time we have sex, he makes my heart melt a little bit, and then he goes back to being an ass and then we argue and then it leads to hot, passionate gay sex." Y/N said in one breath.

Steve nods. "Enemies to lovers."

"You're not going to tell my dad, right?"

"No, but you should. You need to be honest with him."

"I will. Just... Not yet. Not until I figure out how I feel about Parker."

"How long has this been going on?"

"About three months."

"Three months?!" Steve's eyes widened.

Y/N nods and blushed hard.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #steve rogers #captain america #chris evans #mcu captain america #uncle Steve #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #tom holland #tom holland x male reader #spiderman #spiderman x male reader

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pellucid-constellations · 2 years

Text

A Million Reasons - Three

Pairing: College!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes, with all his trust fund money and family connections, gets assigned community service. You, as someone that’s technically part of the community, now have to put up with him. Every day. And he won’t stop killing your plants.

Warnings: Awful men, discussion of family issues, tensionnnn

Word Count: 4.6k

a/n: Thank you for sticking around and waiting for this one :) I hope you enjoy!!

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Your choked words echoed into the phone receiver, making you cringe as you thought about poor Peter on the other end of the call. You knocked your head back against the headrest of your car seat, bringing your sleeve up to your dampened cheeks.

“I’m not even that upset, I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“Hey, you can cry if you want,” Peter comforted. Sounds popped through your speaker as he moved around. “Tell me what happened?”

You sniffed, adjusting the temperature dial to blast more heat through your car. “Wanda had Natasha set me up on a date.”

“Okay… Why?”

“I don’t know! I never know what’s going on in her head,” you lied, unwilling to share the real motive behind Wanda’s antics. “But it doesn’t really matter because the date was terrible and I never want to date anyone ever again.”

“Oh, c’mon! Don’t say that. Wait, give me a sec—” you heard him call out to someone, rustling papers and loud footsteps filling your ears until, “I’m so sorry, y/n, but I’m next up for Stark’s office hours and if I don’t go in he's gonna kill me.”

You breathed out a rough sigh. “That’s okay. Go ahead, Pete, I’ll be fine.”

“You want me to meet you after? I can be quick.”

“No… No, I have to stay in the greenhouse with Barnes. I’ll be okay in a few minutes, promise.”

“You sure?”

Your mouth twisted into a frown, frustration and embarrassment still gnawing at your stomach as time ticked by. You were almost ten minutes late for Bucky’s start time and you had a mountain of work to do; you’d have to suck it up for now and stop reliving the awful coffee date Wanda had insisted on.

Because she had insisted. Relentlessly.

She had gone on and on about this being good for you, giving you an in-depth speech about distractions and rebounds as if you hadn’t been single for the past however many months. All it took was one fleeting comment about your weird feelings for Bucky, and she was on a rampage, landing you in some cafe with a man from Natasha’s jiu jitsu class.

And what an awful man he was, all of his cruel words and uncomfortable touches still making your skin crawl. But you could almost catch Bucky’s figure lingering in front of the greenhouse, right on time as he had been for the last couple of weeks, and you felt bad for wasting his punctuality.

It wasn’t as if he was ever doing anything after he arrived—other than texting and playing mobile games and poking mercilessly at your plants—but at least he was never late. That was more than you could say for yourself right now.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” you assured Peter, taking a steadying breath and straightening out your hair. “You go meet with Stark, I’ll call you later.”

The line went dead after a few more parting words and you struggled with the mirror in your sun visor as you attempted to fix the puffiness in your face. Your eyes were still red and dimmed with tears and anyone looking at you for longer than twenty seconds would definitely be able to tell you had been crying. You sighed, gave up on your appearance, and silently prayed that Bucky would have some pressing matters on his phone this evening.

The outside air felt nice, at least—a tiny reprieve from the awful day you’d had. It was tinged in a floral scent from the surrounding garden and made sweeter by the setting sun; cool against your tear-stained face and light as it whispered reassurances in your ear.

And then you saw Bucky leaning against the greenhouse and all that comfort turned to lead in your stomach.

He glanced up from his phone, frustration furrowing his brow, and called out, “About damn time! I get that you’re running this show, but some people have places to be. And I have hours to fill.”

You chewed the inside of your lip at his tone. Normally, you didn’t let the slight condescending lithe bother you, but today it was pulling at a weak thread. You’d already been berated during your date; you weren’t sure if you could hold up against Bucky’s light taunting.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes glued to your keys as you brushed past him. “I’ll sign off on the full day.”

He didn’t respond to that, the slight shift in his stance marked only by the soft sounds of his jacket. His phone locked and he shoved it in his pocket as you tugged at the door, but he didn’t say anything else. You were grateful for the small silence.

You deposited your bag on the floor by your desk and shrugged off your jacket, already over the evening. The air in the greenhouse was especially stagnant today, and there was a pipe that kept creaking although you couldn’t figure out which one. A few of your books tumbled out of your backpack when you dropped it to the ground, effectively breaking your spirit just a little bit more.

And then there was the headache you were sporting, a mixture of crying and cruel words replaying in your mind being the root cause.

A girl that looks like you must put out, huh?

God, do you ever stop talking about that project?

Like hell I’m paying for this. Want a tip? Try smiling more.

“Your books are gonna get all soggy if you leave them there.”

It was easy to forget Bucky was here when you were on the verge of spiraling.

You let out a long breath through your nose, bending at the knees to pick up your things and set them away from the water damage. You readied yourself at your table, but Bucky simply continued.

“I could just buy you new books if you needed. Or I could ask one of the professors to just give me some.”

He was usually less blunt than that.

You ground your teeth together. He sat on the stool in the corner of the room, making it groan and slide into the wall. His heel clicked against the ground as he crossed his leg over his knee—a haughty posture that you could just sense from your peripheral.

But it didn’t grate at your nerves as it usually did. Today, you were just trying your best not to show how emotionally exhausted you were.

“No thanks,” you replied, voice small.

The notebook in front of you was blurring and you were beyond frustrated with yourself. With your back turned to him, Bucky wouldn’t be able to see if you started crying, but you could feel his eyes burning on your skin. If you so much as brushed your hand against your cheek, he would see it.

His stool creaked, sliding against the floor as he leaned his forearms on his thighs. “What, no comments today? Nothing about my shoes? Maybe my sweater? I tied it around my shoulders just so I could hear you complain about it.”

Why did his voice sound so gentle? It was making you feel sick. You would’ve preferred his mean tone because at least then you could’ve been angry at something.

The pit in your stomach grew, and you fought against your tears with a grimace. “You look fine.”

Your eyes were starting to get itchy, pleading with you to blink and let the tears free. You dug the eraser of your pencil into the palm of your hand and pushed yourself further into the table, hoping the movement would’ve distracted Bucky from the weird crack in your voice. It didn’t.

“Oh I look fine, huh?” he questioned, a lightness that didn’t match his words. He stood. “Well I think you look terrible, if I’m being honest.”

You knew it was a ploy to rile you up; in your few weeks together, Bucky had never made one comment on your appearance. He always kept his comments to your plants or the silly ringtones on your phone or your department’s low budget. He loved to annoy you, but he never seemed to want to poke fun at you personally.

So you knew he didn’t mean it, but today, after everything, that didn’t matter.

You sniffed, cringing as a tear made its way down your face.

His shoes clicked against the ground again. “Hey, look at me.” You definitely didn’t want to look at him. “C’mon, y/n, turn around for a sec.”

At this point, your charade was up. There were multiple tracks now staining your cheeks, and looking up at the ceiling didn’t seem to be slowing them down. You could try to wipe them away, but he was standing so close again—the scent of him and the warmth at your back making this so much worse.

So you turned, your embarrassment now your defense. “What, Barnes?” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.

He looked startled by your tears in a way that didn’t make much sense to you. His brows came together at a sharp point and his head shook as if to undo something. His lips parted, and he took another step forward.

“Hey, I didn’t mean that, alright? You don’t look—”

You scoffed, but the sound was far from biting. “It’s not about that.”

“Is it about those Marigolds?” he asked, his words fast and his tone unfamiliar. “Because I really didn’t mean to kill ‘em. If it ruined your project you can blame it on me.”

You were surprised he even remembered the name of the plant he prodded to death; the guy in the cafe probably couldn’t even do that, and you were supposed to be on a date with him.

“No, it’s… it’s nothing, okay?” you cemented. “Just leave it, I’ll be fine.”

Bucky didn’t look like he wanted to leave it. Something about you crying was making him very restless, and he didn’t appear to be sitting down anytime soon.

Instead, he pressed, “Does it have something to do with why you were late?”

“Why? Are you going to hold that against me for the rest of the week? Make me sign off on extra hours to make up for it?”

“Y/n,” he stressed. He stepped forward again, leaning his side against your table and getting so close to you that your chest tightened when you looked up at him from your chair. “I’m bein’ serious. What’s up?”

You felt your face crumble, all plans of keeping a strong, annoyed front flying out the broken door. You were supposed to have this conversation with Peter—get all the tears and the mean words out of your system and get on with your day. But Peter was busy, and Bucky was right here with his oddly kind eyes and that stupid sweater tied around his shoulders.

And then his hand came down on your shoulder—wide and comforting and warm—and you were suddenly speaking more than you wanted to.

“It’s dumb,” you began, trying to brush off so many tears. “It’s really dumb, it’s just… I went on this date earlier and the guy was a total jerk. He called me boring and ugly and told me I talked about plants too much. Then he skipped out on the bill and took my coffee with him and I just… I know I’m really focused on school, but I hadn’t been on a date in a while so I just thought—”

“Hey,” Bucky softly called. He crouched down in front of you and you didn’t have the time to be shocked before his hand slid down to rest on your knee. “That’s not dumb. If someone called me boring and ugly and I probably woulda punched them in the face.”

“But if he was telling the truth…”

“He wasn’t.”

You raised your brows, tilting your head to the side and doing your best to look accusing despite your puffy eyes. It almost sounded like he was complimenting you, and that certainly wasn’t the norm in your relationship—whatever that actually was. Prison guard and prisoner? Babysitter and unrelenting toddler?

It didn’t really matter; Bucky swiped his thumb along your knee in a soothing gesture, and your brain felt fuzzy.

“You know I kinda like it when you talk about all these plants in here?” he posed, nodding his head toward the back of the greenhouse. “You get real excited. Makes me laugh.”

“I don’t talk to you about the plants.”

“No… not exactly. I don’t think you do it on purpose. Sometimes you just start mumbling stuff about symbiosis or whatever and then you go off. I’m pretty sure you write it all down after—I just get the sneak preview.”

You felt your face heat, pressing a hand to your forehead in an attempt to quell your embarrassment. “Oh god, I am boring.”

Bucky chuckled, so soft it made you feel warm. “Pretty sure I just said I liked it.”

Your crying had stopped, the need hide away in your sadness shadowed by your need to catch your breath. Bucky eyes hadn’t strayed from your face as he crouched before you, and you hadn’t stopped trying to find an interesting pattern in your jeans—well, a pattern in the material not covered by one of Bucky’s hands, that was.

He squeezed your thigh when you got too lost in your head again, and you glanced up this time. His cobalt eyes blinked back at you. You felt as if you were drowning in something foreign.

“Your pants are going to be covered in dirt,” you informed him, the only thing you could get out when he was barely a foot from your face. “I bet your dry cleaner's going to have a fit.”

“There she is,” he grinned, standing up and dusting his knees off. You hated to admit that your leg felt cold. “Get up, I’m taking you somewhere.”

You sniffed, trying to clear the remaining blurriness from your eyes. “What? No, I have things I have to get done in here.”

“Are your plants gonna be gone in the morning?”

“Well, no. But I have to make sure—”

“Then let me make you feel better. Just for a little, Daisy. C’mon,” he pleaded, knocking his head back in feigned exasperation.

You held your breath at the nickname, the sound of someone remembering something about you making your heart hurt. Someone that definitely didn’t have to be nice to you or spend the last ten minutes trying to get you to stop crying. Your eyes trailed from him to the notebook still flipped open at your desk, and Bucky was quick to speak again.

“It won’t be boring,” he promised.

The sun was setting and you shouldn’t.

“Fine.”

The crickets sounded off from the foliage surrounding the parking lot, the only sound between the two of you as you stood and tried to school your face into a neutral expression. It was proving difficult; Bucky kept glancing over at you in confusion, and each awkward movement of his hands threatened to send you into a laughing fit.

“Are you gonna get in the car, or…”

You bit into your lip, hard, and finally met his eyes. “What is that thing?”

“What’re you talking about? My car?” he asked, offense clear in the shake of his head. “You gotta be kidding me, right?”

You shrugged, offering him your own clueless head shake. He scoffed at you, spinning his car keys on his finger and raising his brows in disbelief. This car certainly didn’t look common, and the fact that he was acting so surprised was making your tears feel like a thing of the past.

“This is a 1950’s Jaguar. Barely driven. Brand new refurbished engine. It’s worth like—” You shot him a look that immediately shut him up. He raised his hands, walking over to the passenger’s side and pulling the door open. “Okay, I’ll keep the price tag under wraps. Just get in, will you?”

“It’s not going to like… explode, right?” you questioned, eyeing the foreign car. “Seems like this thing is more fit for car shows and less fit for, well, driving.”

He rolled his eyes, motioning to the open car door yet again. “Hey, don’t diss my car. And I thought we already established that I won’t let you die.”

“Yeah, on campus maybe.”

“What was that?”

You sent him a smile to cover up your mumbled words, sliding onto the seat. “Nothing!”

“Uh huh,” he jabbed sarcastically, closing the door behind you and jostling the car as he got in.

The interior was stiff and expensive looking, but the lack of a roof made it feel more inviting somehow. You glanced up at the sky and the emerging stars as Bucky started the engine, tucking your hands under your thighs to combat the chilly air. The radio flipped on for a second, static disrupting the night, but Bucky clicked it off, bringing his arm up around the back of your seat and looking over his shoulder.

“Where are we going?”

Bucky threw you a smile, his broad chest on full display as he backed the car out of the parking lot. “Somewhere that’ll make you feel better. It works for me, promise. Do it all the time.”

“It better not be some country club,” you threatened, the teasing words doing little to calm the deep thud in your chest.

His smile morphed into a pointed glare, and he turned back around and started driving.

The car drove nicely, you supposed—not that you had much experience with cars from the 50s. It didn’t go very fast, but there wasn’t exactly a rush when you weren’t even supposed to be out in the first place. It went over potholes smoothly and the brakes didn’t squeak.

But more than the car, you felt the fresh air as Bucky drove through the town—the way it brushed against your skin and felt cool on the tears dried there. It nipped at the edges of your jacket and left you blinking at the force of it. It made you feel calm and lit you up at the same time.

“You too cold?” Bucky called over the engine as he stopped at a light.

“No,” you almost laughed. You weren't sure why you wanted to laugh.

The side of his mouth turned up in response, and you were left wondering if he felt this strange exhilaration as well. You looked away from him to get a view of the street, poking your head around as if you weren’t still by campus and you hadn’t seen this road a thousand times. But it felt different with no windows and low doors; it felt different being in a car with Bucky Barnes.

A honk startled you away from your gaze at a storefront. You whipped your head around to find a green light and Bucky only just taking his foot off the brake, a jesting reprimand on the tip of your tongue.

“You are going to get us killed if you don’t watch the road.”

He tilted his head to the side, the wind whipping through his hair—carefree and featherlight. “Sorry,” he chimed, but he didn’t look sorry in the slightest.

Bucky took you to the coastline and up its many side streets. He stuck his tiny car in between narrow roads and let the sky get its darkest shade with no apologies for the dim streetlights. You were distracted for the longest time by the novelty of the bracing wind and the clear view of the scene; it was charming and enticing and every other word you couldn’t think of as restless seagulls flew up from the road.

But after another circle in a neighborhood he didn’t live in, you were getting suspicious. “We’re not actually going anywhere, are we?”

“I told you we were going somewhere to make you feel better,” he replied, slowing the car to a pace that allowed his words to be heard. “Doesn’t have to be one place.”

You blinked, sliding your palms down your thighs and keeping your gaze on the side of his face. He looked bright, especially with the moon still fresh on the horizon and pale white. He looked happy. Driving did make him feel better, and even though it was in an incredibly expensive car—and even though that sweater was still tied around his shoulders—you felt better here as well.

And you were grateful for Bucky Barnes, you realized; your chest felt light and you were grateful for the man that forced you out of that grim greenhouse and drove you around New Haven, Connecticut as if it were Rome.

Maybe you were more than grateful, because Bucky was consistently making you feel annoyed and angry and short-tempered, but he was also making you feel a myriad of things you had never experienced before.

But also, maybe a label wasn’t necessary—wasn’t feasible.

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky sent you a casual glance as he pulled closer to campus. “Don’t gotta answer, I was just thinking about something.”

“Sure,” you shrugged, holding the seat belt at your neck.

He shifted the car into park, letting the motor run in the now empty parking lot. “Why were you so bothered by that guy? You’re not really the type of girl to humor crap like that. Not like you’re ugly either—that part’s obvious.”

Your lips parted, blinking back at him as he started with a sincere expression. Did he just… compliment you? A full-on compliment? “Uh, I—”

“Not that you were being dramatic or anything, guy sounded like a dick. But c’mon, y/n, you had to know he was lying.”

“Well, I guess I just figured—”

Bucky cut you off again, clicking his seatbelt away and throwing a hand in the air. “Can’t believe he didn’t pay and he took your coffee with him. You shouldn’t waste your tears on assholes like that. I know I’m an asshole, but god, to think you were sad about a guy that—”

“Barnes,” you pressed, catching his rant as he slapped his hand on the bench seat next to yours. “It wasn’t just about… him.”

“What do you mean?”

You sighed, weighing your next words carefully. There was always a chance that spilling the truth to Bucky Barnes in his million dollar car would lead to a lifetime of embarrassment and the memory of his taunting laugh, and after the day you’d had, you were sure it’d make you cry again. You had a hard time believing that he would be able to relate to the real reason you had been so upset earlier; he would probably find it trivial, if anything.

But he had tried so hard to make you stop crying earlier—coaxing the truth from your tear coated lips and driving you around until the wind wiped away the damp evidence. Sure, he had been a jerk to start, but the comments he was making had you questioning if that was all part of his weird plan as well: get you pissed off, and then get you to insult him.

And it had worked, to an extent.

“It was the boring thing. And the plants,” you admitted, avoiding his eyes. “My family never really…cared about the things I was interested in—my dreams, I guess. I grew up the oldest of a lot of siblings and money was always tight. My parents only ever listened to me when I talked about getting a job straight out of high school. Anything else and I was practically talking to a brick wall. “

You bit the inside of your cheek for a long, painful moment, and the continued, “When I got a full ride to Yale they were mad at me. I had long since given up on sharing things with them, but I had to tell them I was moving out. It sounds terrible, but I was excited to be something other than a glorified babysitter for once, you know?”

He didn’t know, obviously, but Bucky still furrowed his brows together and nodded his head when you finally met his gaze. You felt a whisper of his fingers by yours on the seat, so faint you almost missed it, but the fluttering in your chest proved it was real.

“Anyways,” you sighed. “College was different. People—professors really—were actually listening to me for once and it felt nice. They didn’t make me feel like an idiot for talking about something other than a bank job or a receptionist’s salary. I haven’t talked to my parents in a while, so I guess I just wasn’t used to all those… those words.”

A silence fell over the car, blanketing you in insecurity as the seconds ticked by and Bucky still hadn’t said anything. You knew he wouldn’t understand the pressure you were under and the feelings that still lingered from the years of the same treatment. He probably had people begging him to go to college; tutors and nannies and friends that all hung onto his every word.

Embarrassment twisted in your gut. “I told you it was dumb.”

“Hey,” Bucky chastised, his hand jutting out to cover yours now, fully. “It’s not dumb. I just feel like a dumbass for thinking that you cared about superficial stuff like a jerk stealing your coffee.”

“I was also upset about the coffee,” you laughed lightly, losing your breath when his fingers squeezed yours.

“I’ll buy you another one.”

“You can’t just keep offering to buy me things. Doesn’t work on me.”

Bucky shrugged, his smile boyish with wisps of his hair curling around his face. “Worth a shot.” He grew a fraction more serious, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand. “I meant what I said earlier—about your little symbiosis speeches.”

You clicked your tongue, rolling your eyes as your face heated. “You can stop lying to make me feel better. I’m fine now.”

“Well, that’s great. Wasn’t lying though.”

Something in you squeezed, a pang of an indescribable emotion hitting you in full force. It made it hard to breathe for a moment; Bucky looked windswept and charming as he kept his eyes locked on you, and your blood was thumping under your skin.

You’d felt pieces of this before, but never with such a weight. It was odd and exhilarating at the same time, hopeful and peaceful and neither of those things as well. Because this was Bucky Barnes, and he was holding your hand and looking at you as if you meant… something to him. You weren’t sure what implications that held, but there was a large part of you that simply wanted to bask in that look and pretend it meant nothing other than what you wanted it to.

But you knew you had to look away, because, in the same sense, this was Bucky Barnes. Incredibly rich, possibly engaged Bucky Barnes, and the latter was actually the smallest reason why his gentle gaze couldn’t mean something more.

“Um, I should leave,” you stuttered, pulling your hand away and curling it into a fist. “Thank you—for the drive. I’ll see you later.”

Bucky gaped. “Wait, uh, your bag.”

You followed his finger and snatched up the bag you were definitely about to leave in his car, shouldering the door open and briefly shutting your eyes as you went. It was meant to ground you, but really it just made your heart beat faster. Bucky’s hand was still on the seat when you turned back around.

“Thanks again.”

Bucky sent you an unsure smile. “Text me when you get home?”

You nodded, but you’d forget when you got home. You had to forget, because texting him would’ve been a terrible idea.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #college!bucky #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction

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mrsstruggle · 8 months

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The Lost Child - Epilogue // Teen Wolf x Marvel AU

Summary: Y/N Stark was taken from her family when she was three years old. It's fifteen years later and her family believes she is dead. Then how is she living in Beacon Hills?

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Death/Injury/Grief/Torture, Possible Grammar Mistakes (please let me know if there is anything else)

Pairings: Derek Hale x Reader, Steve Rodgers x Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner x Natasha Romanoff, Vision x Wanda Maximoff

Previous Pairings: Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, Scott McCall x Allison Argent

Words: 5.8k

Note: There is only an epilogue left and that should be posted tomorrow!

Additional Note: While this is a Teen Wolf x Marvel AU, not everything is true to the shows/movies/comics. I had to change things for the story.

One Last Note: Y/N was adopted by Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. I did this so more people can see themselves in this story.

***I do not own Teen Wolf or Marvel or any related characters. This is a work of fanfiction and is meant for entertainment purposes only.***

Masterlist

The Lost Child Masterlist

Previous Chapter

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One Year Later

Y/N hums to the song playing in her car as she drives up to the newly renovated Hale house—technically it's Derek's and her house, but she likes just calling the Hale house. Derek planned on renovating the house himself with a few of the other pack members but he ended up renovating with pack members and the Avengers.

Tony wanted to use his money to pay a team to renovate the house as quickly as possible, but Derek wanted to be a part of the renovation considering it was his house. He also didn't feel comfortable with Tony paying for everything. They ended up compromising by letting Tony pay for half but they had to renovate it themselves.

Derek was surprised the first day Tony showed up with a few more Avengers in tow. He couldn't say he was very pleased seeing them either. He was hoping to renovate the house in peace with the occasional forced conversation between himself and Tony or ordering the pack to do a few things. He was even more surprised when he didn't hate them being there. It was a pretty good way to get to know Y/N's other family.

It was also a good way for Y/N to get to know her Avengers family. Although Tony built another Avenger's headquarters just outside of Beacon Hills to be closer to her, she still had a job she had to go to and they weren't her only family. Tony offered her jobs with the Avengers multiple times but she turned them down every time. He even offered her a position to be a part of the Avengers but she wanted to work on controlling her powers before she potentially used them to save people from aliens or whatever else they fight.

Three times a week Y/N would drive up to the house to help out—well, her version of helping out. She let Derek and Tony handle all electrical and plumbing details while she sat to the side and talked about her day or gossiped about people from work. She also helped Steve, Bucky, and Sam make a few furniture pieces by watching them do all the hard work and then adding any details she wanted on them, such as paint or accessories.

Pack members would also come by to help tear things down or build things up. None of them knew what they were doing but Derek would teach them and everything turned out okay. Stiles was like Y/N and didn't do much to help but he would be there. He and Peter grew closer as Y/N's brothers and found out they actually have a lot in common. It took them a few weeks, but they eventually stopped being passive-aggressive to each other and became friends—but they still bicker like an old married couple.

Once rooms were built, she, Lydia, Kira, Wanda, and Nat would paint the rooms and go out and buy things for them. They've definitely come back from a shopping trip or two with too many things but Derek can't complain when he sees how happy Y/N is.

He also can't complain when his business is thriving so money is not an issue. It wasn't an issue before—thanks to the money he inherited from his family—but now he doesn't think it will ever be an issue. Since he's dating 'the Y/N Stark,' people like to drive out of their way just to bring their cars to Hale Garage in hopes of possibly meeting him or getting a glimpse of Y/N.

He also started restoring old cars and motorcycles and selling them. It started with a few motorcycles someone abandoned in front of the garage and now he's selling vintage cars in big shows all over the state.

He has also somehow gotten a little fandom of his own. He has no idea how because he doesn't have any social media nor does he willingly put himself in the public eye. He can always tell if someone specifically requests for him at the garage if they're doing it because of his relationship with Y/N or if it's just because of him.

If it's because of him, there is typically a nervous client, possible flirting, and giddy giggles and conversations with their friends when they think he can't hear them. Someone even asked him out once but he shot that down very quickly. That client won't be coming back anytime soon—especially since Malia overheard the whole thing and started laughing so hard she almost fell out of her chair.

On days that Y/N wasn't at the Hale house, she liked to spend her time with her other dad—the sheriff. She knows he wishes he could've also contributed to the rebuilding of the house. He just didn't have the means financially nor the time to help. On top of his regular sheriff duties, there was a lot of paperwork and stress that came after the big fight against Kate and the Hunters.

On nights that he worked late, she'd bring him dinner and talk about their days. On nights he wasn't working, he'd go by the loft to have dinner with her, Derek, and Stiles. Tony and Peter would sometimes join but they didn't want to intrude too much. Tony could tell that he made the sheriff a bit uncomfortable due to who he was but he never said anything to him. They got along but they weren't going to be best friends any time soon.

She's spoken to some of the other Avengers, like Clint and Thor, but she doesn't see them very much. She's only met Clint a handful of times because he likes to keep to himself on his farm. The most time she's spent with him was when she and Derek stayed at his farm for a weekend as a little get-to-know-you thing. They had a lot of fun, and they text now and then, but it's nothing too serious.

She also doesn't see Thor much since he spends most of his time on Asgard—she's also pretty sure he avoids her as much as possible. He still blames himself for the night she was 'taken' by Hydra even though she has told him multiple times that it's not his fault—Pepper would've still done what she did whether he took her to bed or not.

As Y/N drives past the new gates at the front of the property, she can see several cars parked outside of the Hale House. She smiles a bit to herself as she realizes what's going on. Pulling in front of the house and getting out of the car, she can hear people on the other side of the house. Walking through the house and to the backyard, she steps back outside to all of her friends and family setting up tables and birthday decorations.

"Spiderboy, lift the right side of the banner a bit while you're up there! It's a bit unev–hey! Happy Birthday!" Stiles awkwardly shouts as he notices her. Everyone turns to Stiles before shouting 'Happy birthday' at the sight of Y/N standing near the backdoor.

"Why are you home so early?" Derek asks, walking up to Y/N and trying to block her from looking at the scene behind him.

"I'm happy to see you too, babe," Y/N playfully rolls her eyes before giving Derek a quick peck on the lips. "My boss let me leave early since it's my birthday. Well, second birthday, but she understood."

"I still don't understand why you didn't just take the day off."

"That's because I used up my vacation days putting in time off for our little vacation in about a week. I'd much rather take time off to spend two weeks naked on the private island we're going to then have a few free hours this morning." She can hear some of the people behind Derek pretending to gag letting her know that they're listening in on their conversation.

She squeals and laughs as Derek bends down and throws her over his shoulder. Walking into the house, Derek lightly slaps her ass as he walks her up to their bedroom. Entering their shared bedroom, he throws her onto the bed before hovering over her and staring lovingly into her eyes.

"Why are you throwing me another birthday party? You already threw me one on my April birthday." Y/N questions. Not only did she gain another family, but she also gained another birthday. She has the birthday she celebrates which marks the day she arrived at the Stilinskis and now the birthday she was with the Avengers.

"I'm not the one who planned this. This is all on Tony. I also think this might be more for them than it is for you since it's the first time they get to celebrate today with you." Derek says. The only thing Derek did was reel Tony in. Tony wanted to throw a massive party and invite as many people as possible but he knew that would be way too much for Y/N. He knew she'd like something at home with her friends and family. "Now, I need you to change out of your work clothes and I'm going to go back downstairs and see why in a group of superhumans and wolves, no one heard you get here."

"You didn't hear me either," She teases.

"That's because I was trying to be a good son-in-law and listen to your dad tell me about a new case he's working on. He wanted my advice."

"Son-in-law?"

"Mhm, now get dressed and try to act surprised when you come back downstairs," He leans down to press a kiss on her cheek before standing and walking toward their bedroom door.

"I'll try!" She yells as he walks out of the room.

Y/N gets up from the bed and walks to her closet. Stripping out of her work clothes, she changes into something a little nicer. Walking out of the closet, she touches up her hair and makeup before walking downstairs toward the party.

Opening the backdoor, her family and friends all turn to her and yell, "Happy Birthday!"

"Oh my god! I had no idea!" She feigns shock.

"Shut up," Lydia rolls her eyes before pulling Y/N into a hug. "Happy Birthday and make sure to open my present first."

One by one Y/N goes around greeting everyone and thanking them for the party. She's not sure whose idea it was but she'll ask Derek after everyone leaves.

"Nice to see you two again. What has it been? A week?" Y/N teases, walking up to Steve and Bucky.

"A week too long," Bucky teases back, pulling her into a hug.

"And you leave in a week too," Steve says, pulling her out of Bucky's arms and into his own.

"Yes, well then we'll have to have another game night before we leave," She smiles up at him. After they got to know each other a bit while working on the house, she and Derek would invite Steve and Bucky over once a week for a game night. Sometimes they don't even play games, sometimes they'll just work on a puzzle and talk.

It's helped her a lot speaking to someone who has also had personal experience with Hydra. While she can't remember every single thing that happened to her there, she sometimes gets dreams—no, nightmares—that seem more like memories.

It's also helped her become a lot closer to them, as well as them becoming closer to Derek. She knows that they sometimes meet up with some of the other wolves to go for runs through the forest. They've even been to a few car shows with him.

"We're holding you to that," Bucky says.

"Well, Uncle Bucky, Uncle Steve, thank you for being here but I've got more people to go around and thank so I will talk with you some more later," Steve and Bucky's smiles get impossibly wider at her calling them her uncles. It's something that started two months ago and they get happier every time she says it.

Walking over to Scott and Liam, she pulls them both into a tight group hug, "Thank you both for being here. I'm sure you have better things to do with your day."

"Not really," Liam groans, pushing Y/N away from him.

"Do you really think Stiles would let us not be here?" Scott asks, pulling away from Y/N.

"I feel so loved," Y/N pushes Scott in a teasing manner. "Now I'm going to talk to some more people and if I look over here that means I need you to rescue me."

She pats them both on the back before moving over to Natasha, Wanda, Bruce, and Sam.

"Happy birthday future falcon," Sam says, pulling Y/N into a hug.

"Future falcon?"

"Yeah, we just need to get you a pair of wings and you can be just like your favorite uncle!"

"I don't think getting me a pair of wings will make me just like Bucky," Y/N teases, smirking at the look of shock on Sam's face.

"You take that back."

"I'm going to pretend that you just said my name instead," Bruce says.

"Even if you were her favorite uncle, why would she want to be like you when she could be like her favorite aunt?" Natasha smirks, pointing to herself.

"And you think that's you?" Wanda asks.

"Who else would it be?"

The smile on Y/N's face never leaves as she watches them bicker back and forth about who's her favorite aunt and uncle. Honestly, she doesn't have a favorite. She's definitely closer to some than others but she could never tell you who she'd consider her favorite.

Natasha has been teaching her some more hand-to-hand combat as well as how to use a gun. She can't say that using a gun is her favorite thing to do—especially since she's been shot several times by them—but it's nice to know if she ever needs to use one as a last resort.

Wanda has been helping her learn how to control her powers—even though Wanda isn't in the most control either. She's also been working with Stiles to awaken the magic within him. He can't do a lot just yet but Wanda thinks he could be really powerful one day.

With Sam, he helped a lot with the renovations and he likes to bring Y/N lunch at work at least twice a week—he even brings Melissa lunch from time to time. He will bring her lunch and they'll talk about what's going on in their lives or get into heated debates about their favorite shows. They once spent her entire lunch arguing about who's the better Winchester brother.

Y/N's probably the least close to Bruce—he's actually closer to Lydia than her. The work that he does really fascinates Lydia and she ended up getting an internship with the Avengers to work with him. Y/N will sometimes tag along when they are working on things outside of things for the Avengers, like hospitals. She doesn't understand everything like they do but it's nice to at least spend time with them.

"Right Y/N?" Sam's voice pulls her out of her head.

"Um...right?" Y/N looks between them with a confused look on her face.

"Were you even listening?" Natasha asks.

"Um, what's that? I think someone's calling for me." Y/N turns around and quickly walks away from them before they can say anything.

"Y/N, will you tell Stiles that there is no such thing as mermaids?!" Y/N looks over to where Peter is calling for her. He's standing next to Stiles while Derek is sitting on a wooden table next to them with his feet propped up on a chair and an annoyed look on his face.

"Y/N, will you please tell Spideyboy here that mermaids exist?! If werewolves and aliens exist, then so do mermaids!" Stiles yells.

Y/N walks over to them and sits on the table next to Derek, "Why are we fighting about mermaids?"

"They started talking about vampires and somehow the conversation turned into this," Derek says.

"What do you think Derek? Mermaids, real or not?" Stiles asks, annoyed that Peter thinks he knows supernatural creatures better than him.

"Why don't you go to the ocean and find out?"

"Y/N?"

"I'd like to believe there are," Y/N says.

"Not you too," Peter groans.

"What? After watching H2O as a kid, my biggest dream was to become a mermaid. You're not a scary monster if you're a mermaid."

"Damn, now I feel bad for saying they don't exist."

"I don't think you're a scary monster," Derek nudges her with his shoulder.

"I don't think you're a scary monster either," Y/N smiles, leaning in to press a kiss on Derek's lips while Stiles and Peter groan in disgust at their affection. "So, where's the other Peter?"

"He's at the garage. He should be closing up soon."

Y/N looks around at the other people in the yard and sighs, "Okay, I guess I should go say hello to the others but I'll be right back."

"I'll be here waiting," Derek smiles at her as she gets up and walks away.

After saying hello and thank you to Kira, Mason, Thor, Clint, and Loki, she walks over to Melissa and the sheriff, "Are you two having fun?"

"So much fun," Melissa says, pulling Y/N into a hug.

"I'm surprised you were able to get the night off, Dad. I thought you had a big case you're working on?"

"I do, but it's your second birthday so I took the night off. They should be able to survive one night without me." Sheriff Stilinski says.

"I don't know. This is Beacon Hills so you never know." Y/N teases.

"Well, then let's hope they can at least last a few hours without me."

"Is Chris coming?" Y/N looks over at Melissa.

"He said he and Isaac were busy with something so they won't be making it," Melissa says.

"Good. We can finally get through one dinner without Scott and Isaac being completely oblivious to each other."

The sheriff snorts out a laugh at her comment, "Instead we just have to deal with you and Derek."

"You love Derek!" Y/N yells in defense.

"Yes, but I don't love watching him feel up my daughter."

Melissa looks at something past Y/N before looking back at her, "I think you have one more person you have yet to speak to."

Y/N looks over her shoulder to see Tony looking at her before quickly looking away when he notices her looking back at him.

"Go, we can talk more later," Sheriff Stilinski says.

"Okay," Y/N wraps her arms around the sheriff and hugs him tight, "I love you, Dad."

He hugs her back just as tight, "I love you too."

She unwraps her arms from around him and makes her way over to Tony who's sitting by himself at one of the tables, "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," Tony pulls out the seat next to him for her to sit in. "Are you having fun?"

"I get two birthdays, of course, I'm having fun!"

"Good, I'm glad you don't mind us doing this."

"You're also my family and you celebrate my birthday today so we will also celebrate today," Y/N says, not noticing that the smile on Tony's face gets bigger when she calls him family. "Have you spoken to Morgan recently?"

After a few deep conversations with Tony, Y/N convinced him to try to mend his relationship with Morgan. He wasn't a very present father to her since he resented Pepper getting pregnant after Y/N was 'taken.'" Morgan isn't his biggest fan and was very close to her mother until the truth about her came out. Tony was quite shocked when she reached out to him and said she wanted to get to know him more—Y/N thinks she feels responsible for something that is not her fault nor was it ever.

Morgan hasn't spoken to Y/N yet, but Y/N's grateful that she hasn't. While Pepper is the only person to blame in the situation, there are a few thoughts in the very back of her mind that make her resent Morgan just a little. Y/N hates that those thoughts are there but it's natural for her to have those after everything Hydra put her through. She tries to tell herself that without Hydra, she wouldn't be where she is today, but she thinks it's stupid that she had to go through something so traumatizing just to end up where she is. If Pepper didn't want her, she could have adopted her out to the Stilinskis with no trauma necessary.

"Not recently, but while you're on vacation, Peter and I are going to go to New York and spend some time with her," Tony replies.

"Thank you for giving us the vacation by the way."

"You say that as if you don't thank me every time you see me."

"That's because I'm really grateful for it." Y/N smiles back at him.

Tony rolls his eyes at her, "Just make sure when you come back I'm not a grandpa."

"Trust me, that is not going to happen," Y/N laughs a little at the thought.

"Good. I'm way too young for that."

"Aren't you lik–"

"I'm too young!" Tony cuts her off quickly.

"Got it," Y/N laughs lightly at his antics. "Thank you for the birthday party...dad."

Tony can feel tears well up in his eyes hearing her call him dad for the first time since they've reunited, "Anything for you." He throws his arm around her shoulders and pulls her into a hug, "Happy birthday, Petal."

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Might right a bonus smut chapter...let me know what you think!

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sam24 · 4 months

Text

Minivans And Pawnshops

Summary: You were out on a mission for a week, and when Tony, your self-appointed overprotective bodyguard, notices your Greek god of a boyfriend acting weird, he makes it his personal duty to figure out why. By asking Steve what was going on? Hell no. By slipping a Stark Tracker on him and shoving 11 people into an 8-seater Honda Odyssey to follow him.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

*****

“Take a left.” Friday’s monotone voice rang out.

“Take a left here, Happy,” Tony instructed, looking up from the Stark Map on his phone.

Happy rolled his eyes, mumbling something along the lines of I know, the robot already told me.

“This isn’t necessary, Tony,” You repeated for about the hundredth time. “Steve is not cheating on me.”

“My evidence says otherwise,” Tony urged Happy to drive faster, earning a grumble from the latter. “He’s acting very suspicious, always going out and coming back late every time.”

“Actually, I can vouch for Tony on that one,” Clint adds from his squished place in the last row of the mini-van, practically sitting in an annoyed Natasha’s lap. “He’s been acting pretty weird.”

“Doesn’t automatically mean that he’s cheating,” You defended. “He probably has other reasons.”

“Fine. Cheating or fight club. Which would you prefer?” Tony cocked his head at you, and you shoved it back.

“If he is bedding another woman, I will make sure he cannot bed any woman ever again!” Thor declared loudly into your ear, Wanda also wincing on the other side of him.

“You mean cut his dick off?” Sam piped in from the back, who was purposefully shoving into Bucky with every turn the car made.

“Um, indeed. I think so,” Thor shrugged. “I am not sure what I meant either.”

“Uh Mister Stark?” Peter turns around from the passenger seat that he was sharing with a very uncomfortable Bruce. “Did you really have to bring all of us? I have a lot of math homework to finish.”

Tony waved him off. “I have like 30 assistants back at the tower, kid. Someone will do it for you. Plus, all of us have to catch Rogers in the act and publicly shame him.”

You turned back to Tony, remembering what you both were initially arguing about after the ringing in your ear settled down. “You didn’t have to sneak a damn tracking device on him! You could have just asked what he was doing like a normal person.”

“Fuck being normal. At least be grateful that I waited for you until you came back from your mission to catch him red handed.” Tony smirked. “Or should I say cum handed.”

Everyone gagged.

“Actually, I don’t think that’s how it works,” Vision frowned, basically underneath Wanda. “The semen technically would not be in the Captain’s hand, unless-”

“Vis, honey.” Wanda just shook her head.

“Plus, I already asked Cyborg over here.” Tony pointed to the back at Bucky, who was still glaring at Sam. “He went uhh, I don’t know and ran away,” Tony said in his best dumb jock voice.

“Nothing is going on, Tony.” Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Just turn the car around.”

“I agree with Barnes.” Natasha kicked Tony’s seat from the third row. “Turn around, Happy.”

Bucky looked past Sam and Clint, who were hitting each other’s knees with their own. “Steve told you too?” He asked in Russian with a raised eyebrow.

Natasha shook her head with a smirk. “No. I’m just smart like that.”

“Too late, buddy,” Tony ignored their secret conversation, flashing a fake smile over his shoulder. “Like the great John B once said, ‘We didn’t come this far to get this far’.”

Peter whipped around once again, his eyes lighting up at the quote. “Mister Stark, I’m really glad that you’re watching my TV show recommendations, but I’m pretty sure someone else said it before he did-”

“Happy, take another left here.” Tony called out, mimicking the AI who just said it seconds before.

You rolled your eyes, the red dot in the center of Brooklyn on the phone screen catching your attention. You had no reason to doubt Steve’s loyalty toward your relationship. He loved you and you loved him and you knew that he would never do anything to hurt you. But, you were curious as to why Steve was apparently acting weird while you were gone, and what the hell he was doing in Brooklyn.

“Trust me, Tone. He’s not cheating. I’ll just ask him when he comes back, it’s probably just some stuff he has to take care of.”

“C’mon guys,” Bucky pressed. “Let’s turn around. I need to pee or something.”

“Hm, sounds like you're in denial.” Tony said to you, ignoring Bucky once again. “Don’t worry, the next step will be coming soon. Anger,” Tony announced with a grin like it was some kind of flashy news headline.

“Tony, why the hell does it sound like you want my boyfriend to be cheating on me.”

“Aw come on, it’s not like that,” Tony gestured at Happy to take a right. “I’m just looking out for you.”

You rolled your eyes once again, rubbing your wrist, remembering the death grip Tony had on you earlier as he dragged you into the light blue Honda Odyssey packed tight of Avengers in the back of his garage. He was saving it for his future family, he had claimed when you asked why Tony Stark of all people owned a minivan.

“Stop!” Tony yelled, and Happy quickly stepped on the brake, sending everyone flying forward. You heard Bruce and Peter groaning in the front. “This is it. The big reveal,” he announced.

You immediately scooted ever closer to Tony as he pressed his forehead to the window.

“He’s having an affair with . . .” Tony paused with a frown, his sunglasses sliding down the slope of his nose. “The owner of Vintage Pawn Shop?”

Pawn shop? Didn't Steve say something about a pawn shop a while back?

Identical confused eyebrow furrows made their way onto everyone’s faces, except Bucky’s and Natasha’s, as you spotted your unmistakable 6 foot 2 super soldier through the glass littered with fingerprints.

He was describing something to the old lady working in the store, looking hopeful and tired, like he had been searching for it for days. She nodded and raised her finger in a one minute, honey type of way and started rummaging through some things behind the counter. She pulled out a small box from somewhere, opening it and gently placing it in front of Steve.

You squinted your eyes, accidentally shoving Tony’s head into the window of the car as you craned your neck closer, trying to read the woman’s lips.

She said something along the lines of This might be what you’re looking for, sweetie, and Steve’s eyes lit up, a clear wave of nostalgia crashing over him. With gentle calloused fingers, he lifted a ring out of the box, admiring it with a soft smile.

“Friday,” Tony called out, face still squished between you and the car window. “Connect to the store’s CCTV.”

Before you could ask since when the hell Friday could do that, the Stark Map with a You have arrived at your destination adorned on its screen quickly was replaced with the live footage from the store’s cameras.

“Did this belong to someone that you knew, honey?” The old woman’s kind voice grainily made its way through the speaker of Tony’s phone as she noticed Steve’s eyes glistening with tears.

Everyone tried to move closer to the phone for Steve’s reply in the overcrowded car. “Ow!” You heard Clint yell, probably at Sam. “That was my foot, dumbass!” He was immediately shushed.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, still smiling at the ring. “My ma’s.”

Multiple gasps were heard throughout the car, Happy’s being the loudest.

A weeks old, sleepy memory that was buried deep into your brain immediately flooded back.

You and Steve were wrapped around each other, your ear pressed to his heart, slowly lulling you to sleep with a familiar beat.

“Y’know, you remind me of my ma.” Steve randomly declared against your hair, and you peered up at him to meet the soft currents in his eyes. “Beautiful. Kind. Doesn’t take shit from anyone.”

He pressed a kiss to your lips as you smiled, cupping your face to pull back and look at you. He stared lovingly at you for a while, settling into a comfortable silence.

“Everything okay?” You turned your head to kiss his palm. The last time he had looked at you for this long without talking, it was right before he burst into tears after you had almost died on a mission.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Just thinking.” He pulled you back into his chest, placing another kiss on your forehead. “She would’ve loved you.”

After a little bit of silence, he spoke again. “Her ring was beautiful.”

“Oh?” You hummed.

“Yeah.” He nuzzled his nose into your cheek, a slight Brooklyn accent slipping through as he talked slowly, his words laced with sleep. “Don’t know where it is, but I wanna find it for you. I’ll look through every pawn shop in the state. And when I find it I’ll propose when the time’s right under the stars and you’ll say yes because you’re just like my ma, and Ma loved me more than anything in the world.”

If Steve had brought up the topic of marrying you during the day when you were wide-awake, you probably would have had a stroke of happiness.

But right now, it was night.

It was night and you were half-asleep, wrapped up in Steve’s warm arms, feeling more at peace there than you ever had anywhere else.

Nothing but peace.

So you just drowsily grinned into his bare chest, your hand snaking up to rest on his cheek. “She loved you more than anything in the world, huh?” You repeated. “Well then I guess your Ma and I are pretty similar.”

You looked up from the screen and back at the window, staring at the ring in Steve’s hand with wide eyes. The sunlight bounced off of it and the jewel sparkled in the light with an elegant touch. Steve was right- it was absolutely gorgeous.

A smile crept onto your face, matching the one on Steve’s.

“Why the hell are you smiling?” Tony’s voice interrupted your daze. “He’s gonna propose to the side chick!”

#marvel fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #tony stark is dumb #but we still love him

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fetusgooseandjuice · 1 year

Text

Better Boyfriend

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha has been in love with you for years. The only thing preventing her from being with you is your toxic boyfriend, but she knows she can treat you better.

Word Count: 1,477

TRIGGER WARNING: Domestic Abuse

Stark!Reader

Second Person POV:

Arguments between couples are normal, but these were far from the normal couple arguments. He would get mad when food wasn't cooked for him, when you stayed out too late, and especially when you didn't tell him every detail of where you were going.

This would result in verbal and even physical abuse from him. Whether it was calling you lazy, or pulling your hair and slapping you across the face, he would turn around 30 minutes later and tell you how sorry he was and how much he loved you. And you found ways to believe and forgive him because you thought you loved him too.

Your dad, Tony Stark, was skeptical about Hayden. He knew that something was off because you're his daughter and he pays attention to your body language and facial expressions whenever you're around Hayden. But he didn't know the extent of what was happening, so he kept it to himself.

You weren't technically an avenger like your dad, but the team considered you one because you were an inventor like he was, so you spent a lot of time at the compound making contraptions and technology that could benefit the team during missions.

During the time you spent at the compound, you've grown close with the whole team. Clint, Bruce, Thor, and Steve being uncle-figures to you. While Wanda, Natasha, Kate, and Yelena were your best friends. They all thought of you like family and they loved you so much.

Which is why you were currently sitting in the living room, participating in game night with the team to celebrate Kate's first mission as an official avenger.

Your POV:

"Oh come on that's not allowed!" Thor yelled as Peter just 'won' the game.

"You're just jealous that you lost so you don't get to choose the movie for the next movie night." Peter bragged as he relaxed back into the couch with his hands folded behind his head, feeling accomplished.

"We're not jealous, we just don't wanna watch another Star Wars movie for fourth time this month." Kate said as she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah no I swear we've seen like every single one at this point." I agreed as everyone laughed.

My phone then started to blow up with notifications as their conversation about Star Wars continued. I flipped my phone over to look at the screen to see who was texting me. It was Hayden.

"Where the hell are you?!"

"You didn't tell me you left Y/N."

"I want you home right fucking now. I did not say that you could leave."

Were only some of the messages he was sending me. I clicked my phone off and turned it back over, trying to ignore the dings hoping that he would eventually stop.

"Wow sounds like someone really wants to talk to you." Wanda said from next to me.

I just gave her a quick small smile and looked down as the notifications kept coming.

"Are you gonna answer them?" she asked.

"I will later, it's probably just one of my friends. They'll be fine." I told her hoping that she'll just let it go.

That was until my phone started ringing, indicating an incoming call. I knew at that point, there was no letting this go. I picked up my phone and walked into a different room as I answered the call from Hayden.

Wanda's POV:

I could see Y/N's face visibly drop when her phone started ringing. She even looked a little nervous as she got up and left the room.

"Hey Nat have you noticed how odd Y/N's been acting recently?" I asked her as she was sitting beside me.

I knew that Natasha liked Y/N more than friend. She has ever since they met almost 4 years ago. So she was heartbroken when Y/N introduced us to her boyfriend. There were times when Natasha would sit in my room late at night ranting to me about her love for her and I would just listen.

"Have I noticed? How has it taken you this long for you to notice?" she responded.

"I mean I've noticed it before, but I thought it was just me. This is the first time I've brought it up to someone." I told her.

"Almost a month after she started dating that douchebag of hers is when it started." she said with certainty.

I'm not surprised that she knows that because for one, she's a former spy. And two, she's been in love with that girl for 4 years, so she pays a lot of attention to her.

"Do you think if we asked her about it she would talk to us?" I asked her.

"Probably not. If it really does have something to do with Hayden, then she won't want to bring us into it." she said and I nodded understandingly.

Just as she finished her sentence, Y/N came back into the room and started reaching for her shoes to put on. Both Natasha and I could tell she was crying even thought she was looking down and trying to wipe the tears away.

"Y/N are you okay? What happened?" Natasha quietly asked her so she didn't draw any attention to us.

She looked at us as she wiped her eyes, "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine I just have to go. Hayden wants me home." she said.

Nat and I looked at each other knowing that there's more to the story.

"Actually can we talk to you real quick, before you go." I asked her trying to get her to stay and talk to us about what she's going through.

"Guys I really-" she started but Natasha interrupted her.

"Y/N, please." she pleaded.

She looked down at her phone before looking back up at us, nodding her head.

We all stood up and walked into kitchen. Nat placed a comforting hand on Y/N's back, leading the way.

We sat her down in a chair and thought about how to we should approach this for a few seconds.

"Is everything okay. You know, with you and Hayden." Natasha asked her.

"Yeah everything's great." she quietly said with a small smile that we both knew was fake.

"We only ask because we've noticed you've been acting off recently." I added.

"Really guys I-I'm fine. Can I go now. I really need to get home." her voice was wavering and we could tell she was nervous.

"Y/N if you need help you can tell us. Whatever it is we'll help you." I said.

"I don't need help, I need to leave before-" she started, but interrupted herself.

"Before what?" I asked, but she stayed silent like she was trying to come to with something to say, but couldn't.

"Y/N is Hayden hurting you." Natasha asked, tired of beating around the bush and seeing Y/N so unlike herself.

"What?! No, no he would never. I-I mean sure he gets mad sometimes a-and we argue b-but-" she stopped and looked at us knowing that we weren't buying any of it.

"That's a ton of bullshit. I know he hurts you. Y/N, every time you're around him when you're with us you look just flat out scared. And this makeup-" she started as she leaned forward and wiped her thumb under Y/N's eye, smearing the makeup and partially revealing a bruise under her eye.

"I know you might have hid it well from some people but I care about you Y/N, okay. I notice when something wrong and there was no hiding that from me." she told her softly as her voice started to shake like she was about to cry from seeing the girl she loves like this.

Y/N was at a loss for words. We knew she was scared, but we could only help her if she let us.

"Let us help you, let me help you." Natasha pleaded to her.

"I'm fine and I can help myself." she said, holding back tears as she got up to grab her bag and tried to walk out of the door, but Natasha stopped her before she could.

"Y/N wait-" Natasha said as she grabbed Y/N's arm which made her flinch.

"I- Y/N...You know I would never do that to you-" Natasha told her, speechless yet softly.

"I'm sorry." Y/N said as she turned around to open the door and leave, leaving Nat standing there in shock.

Part 2 coming soon...

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romonova #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff #natasha marvel

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mae-i-scribble · 10 months

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I’ve been thinking so much about how ASTV goes out of its way to set up Miles and Gwen as both parallel and directly opposing each other throughout the entire film and going just a little feral so now I am subjecting my essay upon the internet.

First off we have the direct comparisons that can be made between Miles and Gwen as people, the way they both use that awful fake low voice to disguise themselves. Both of them have fathers that are in the police force who were at one point staunchly against spider-man and to whom they have to conceal themselves from. Both of them started out as superheroes around the same age. Both are established as people who despite having support groups around them who support them (miles and ganke plus his parents, gwen with her band and her dad (here on a technicality)) to be desperately lonely people because they can never discuss who they are in full with anyone, and who in turn feel a special connection with each other because of all these similarities in their unique situations. Both of them are also painted as anomalies, with Gwen being a Gwen Stacy who exists outside of the ‘girlfriend who tragically dies’ role given to her other universe counterparts (this may change in BTSV based on some creator statements but for now its all we have to go off of). And Miles, the kid who was never meant to become spider-man but who excelled at the role. Both of them are extremely skilled superheroes who keep up with the older veterans despite their age too.

And then we have some of the hard hitting differences. The polar opposite relationship these two have with both their fathers and with family in general. Even as spider-man, Miles has kept a good rapport up with his father and the police, if met with a little more annoyance from the police. Gwen on the other hand, has been hunting down like a criminal for most of her vigilante life, doubly so by her own father who even when confronted with the fact that his daughter is spider-woman, tries to lock her up anyways. Something we know with absolute certainty Miles’ dad would not do. Gwen’s dad is also the only family she has left, and even before that it seems that her support group was very small and limited to Peter and Aunt May. On the other hand Miles has both his parents and a lot of people he can at least call acquaintances (we see this in the first movie as he has always been a bit of a people person, well loved at his old school). We also see a stark difference in how they would have handled being told they couldn’t use the watches to visit. Gwen, clearly afraid of losing the one safe space she has left, keeps in line regardless of her own feelings because she cannot risk it. Miles, on the other hand, had he been put in a position to join spider-society before Gwen, would have gone to see her by any means- he was already trying to see both her and Peter from his own dimension.

There are some other scenes and visuals that also continue this trend, screencaps and explanations of those below the readmore.

First off we have the visual contrast between Miles and Gwen’s respective dimensions. Gwen’s world is a blur of color, the cityscape blends together only to focus on the things Gwen cares about. It’s painted together.

Miles’ world, on the other hand, while having a slight blur that is reminiscent of older comics, stands out much more sharply. And while not as distinctly colorful as Gwen’s world, its a much brighter take on our everyday reality (mostly this one shot is not the best example).

When Miles and Gwen first meet and start talking on the bank building, this shot happens. As Gwen sits with a backdrop of shadows we pan up to see Miles standing, the archway giving him the bright backdrop of sky. Right here, as they talk about what could happen if Miles’ were to reveal his identity, visually they are on two opposite sides of one story to reflect how ideologically separated they are on this topic. There’s a physical divide between them. This is coupled by the way ATSV uses the imagery of people being oriented in different directions to show their separation. It’s used in the promo art for Miles vs spider-society, and twice in relation to Miles and Gwen specifically.

But despite their vastly different experiences, the way that their lives have played out so differently, they still have a connection, shown by the way that Miles gets down to match Gwen’s perspective. He literally meets her at her level, and by doing so they get a view that only the two of them can share. Miles is what brings them back onto the same parallel track by orienting himself to match Gwen. That divide doesn’t exist anymore.

This one is less meaningful I just kinda thought it was cute how they essentially had the same reaction to watching the Spot’s plan play out.

The most meaningful shot in this scene though once more brings back the separation via oriented in opposite directions though. The backdrop behind them is open, connecting them together, and they’re on the same level face to face. However, Miles is upside down. Rather than Gwen being the one in strong disagreement, now Miles is with the fact that Gwen would choose to abandon him without telling him anything. And unlike Miles, Gwen doesn’t have the chance to try and see it from his perspective.

The last point I want to bring up is two paralleled shots in the movie. The first being when Miles catches Gwen with his web when she falls in Mumbattan. Here, the only thing that makes the web snap is when Miles’ starts glitching, literally the only thing the could have made him drop her is the universe itself interfering.

Vs when Gwen returns the favor in Nueva York. Only this time it isn’t about the universe interfering, it’s about how she’s lost Miles’ trust so completely, so utterly, that he would rather break off this connection himself than have Gwen save him.

All these things come together to just break my heart over what’s happened to their friendship- I really want some solid resolution to just how much both Gwen and Peter have hurt Miles in the next movie. But also the levels this movie goes to show just how these two are connected to make their intense bond over such a short period more believable is just superior film making at its best. If anyone has more examples I didn’t point out here please let me know I would love to see them.

#ATSV #atsv spoilers #across the spiderverse #miles morales #gwen stacy #analysis #if you can't tell im going fucking feral over here in my corner #its so good you guys its so fucking good

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ask-ursa-tonypeter · 14 days

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Oh man, okay so that Peter snatching ask, I feel like I neeeed more of that. How would Tony even explain Pyrite!Peter’s new situation to him? Would he even tell Pyrite Peter about DB!Peter? Aksdkfniend I don’t know if you want to go more into detail about this because it’s technically not a fic of yours so feel free to ignore this ask if this isn’t the direction you want to go with these, I’m just infinitely curious about the scenario written in that ask and figured it didn’t hurt to shoot my shot here, so to speak.

[[in reference to this ask and then this ask-- not only did it not hurt to shoot your shot, I wrote a whole-ass fic about it, lmao. CWs for abduction/long-term captivity, gentle noncon and general very 💖loving and tender💖 emotional abuse, and all of the psychological trauma that goes with it-- but there's a hopeful ending! (Also, daddykink, which I can apparently only tolerate if one of the characters in question hates it, lmao.)]]

This older Tony told him that he was picked because he's special, but Peter isn't stupid. In the brief glimpse he was allowed to see of the other Peters out there on that monitor, he noticed that most of them were older. Stronger. Actually special.

And he sees the way that this Tony looks at him. Peter wouldn't have noticed it before, probably, but it was the same expression that his brother wore when they were… together. Dark, heated, focused. Peter had loved the attention from his brother, but it scares him from this man. He's constantly on edge, waiting for the moment that petting hands or a tender kiss might slip somewhere unbearable, like being prepared will somehow give him a way to stop it.

He knows it won't, of course. He knows he can't.

He can't stop anything.

This Tony wants Peter to call him 'Dad.' Peter tries to protest, tries to say that he already has a dad, that it's strange when his own Tony is his brother instead. But Tony insists– says that he'll be a better father to Peter than Howard Stark ever was, that Peter doesn't need a brother when he has a father like Tony instead, that his brother was never any good to him anyway.

It makes Peter regret every single time he's ever complained about his dad and every single time he ever felt ignored by his brother, and he tells Tony that, that he loves his family even if they're not perfect and he misses his mom and that he wants to go home.

But this Tony doesn't care about his tears, and Peter is afraid of him, so Tony gets his way.

That's always how it goes. Peter cries, he begs, he asks to go home. When he's at his most desperate and selfish and awful, he asks for Tony to take someone else instead. And Tony holds him and pets him and coos and hums and murmurs that everything will be okay, and he just needs time to adjust, and that he's perfect. That Tony could never let him go.

Peter knows that he means it, and Tony never seems to realize that it only makes him cry harder. But in the end Peter always ends up leaning heavily into his arms, sniffling and exhausted and cried-out, so maybe it's his fault for sending mixed messages.

He does try to make the best of it, after all. He knows it makes him a coward, and that he should fight and scream and try to make this Tony's life hell until he does give Peter up, like rehoming a bad dog. But he can't, because he's not brave, so instead he sets the table and makes suggestions for dinner and smiles at Tony's jokes and picks out movies to watch from under the arm of this man who is not his father and not his brother but who he still calls 'Dad.'

"Good choice, baby," Tony says with a smile when Peter picks out Die Hard for movie night, and Peter hates the warm, pathetic glow of satisfaction that swells in his chest at the praise. But it's better than being scared, so Peter will take it, even if it makes him feel just as cheap and slimy as the actual sex.

It doesn't take long for that to start, though it's longer than Peter expects. A few weeks, maybe, though Peter's sense of time isn't great anymore. Tony had already slipped into his bed even as early as that first night, with the excuse of comforting Peter while he cried– "oh, sweetheart, don't cry, you'll be okay," he'd crooned, pressing kisses to Peter's hair while he flinched, "you'll love it here, you'll see,"– but then he never stopped, even once Peter stopped crying himself to sleep.

So one morning it happens, inevitable. Tony's wrist brushes too low when he's untangling himself from Peter as they wake, and Peter can't bite back his gasp at the pressure against his morning wood, and before he knows it there's a hand around him and lips against his neck and a warm, morning-rough voice muttering, "Let me take care of that for you, sweetheart."

Peter tries to stop it. He does. He does.

But when he gasps, "Dad, wait, please stop," Tony only murmurs, "Shh, relax, honey," and in the end it's like everything else.

Tony is always gentle with him. It's a strange contrast to his brother, who called him filthy things and teased him until he was so red he thought he might pass out and could be rough with him when Peter asked for it. Peter liked that, yeah, but he had always wished that his brother would kiss him sweetly and tell him he loved him, too.

It's disorienting to have those daydreams come to life in the form of this other, twisted version of his brother. Peter tries to close his eyes as Tony moves inside him and take what comfort he can in the soft touches and endless praise, and sometimes it works, and sometimes it puts a pit in his stomach to think he ever wanted this from his brother at all.

Even outside of bed, it messes with Peter's head the way that Tony's so nice. It makes it too easy to sink into the lie sometimes, when he's allowed to wander the familiar penthouse suite of Stark Tower instead of being locked in some basement, when Tony remembers all of his favorite treats and movies, when Tony spoils him rotten and tells him he's perfect and never, ever loses his patience.

(Even when Peter does. Even when Peter has one of his embarrassing episodes where he loses his mind and beats his fists against Tony's chest and scratches and bites until he tastes blood, Tony just holds him and sighs "I know, baby, I know," until Peter is spent. He never even raises his voice.

But he does cry sometimes. It makes Peter feel guilty, and then mad at himself for feeling guilty, and then he gets so confused that he just lets Tony bundle him away for a nap like he really is a tantruming five-year-old. Every time he wakes up he's mortified, but Tony never scolds him like he deserves. He's just sweet and gentle and forgiving, and he lets Peter sink right back into the comfort of the lie.)

Peter wonders if Tony was kind to the other Peter. He resents him sometimes, even though he knows it's not fair. It's not the other Peter's fault that he died, or that his dad is… like this. It's not the other Peter's fault that Tony picked Peter out of all the options. But even still, sometimes he thinks 'if you were still here, then I wouldn't be,' and there's some satisfaction in having someone to blame who he doesn't have to share a bed with.

But mostly– mostly he wonders about the other Peter's life. Sometimes Tony will cling to him and apologize over and over again like he can't hear Peter at all, and Peter wonders if he was mean to the other Peter while he was alive, or if he was sleeping with his actual son, too, or if he blames himself somehow for the way that he died. JARVIS won't tell him what happened, and he's too afraid to ask Tony.

But it wasn't a secret, he knows. Even if he can't find any mention of the original Peter Stark's death online, other people have to know about it, because none of Tony's employees can stand to look at him.

He wonders what they know. Do they think he's some kind of Frankenstein's monster? Do they know he's been kidnapped? Do they think he's just an uncanny lookalike, or do they know about the machine in Tony's personal lab?

(Or do they just know exactly how close their boss is to his son, Peter thinks sometimes, and it makes him want to never come out of his room.)

Or maybe they're just afraid that if they look, Tony will see something on their faces that he doesn't like, because–

He may always be gentle with Peter, but Tony is not a kind man.

He still rarely raises his voice. When he's angry with someone, his voice goes flat and ice-cold and the room gets so quiet it feels like even breathing would be too loud.

He always sends Peter out of the room before he kills someone. It's the only time anyone will look at him, their eyes wild and pleading for Peter to stay like that would save them, but by then it's Peter who can't bear to look.

Peter hates himself for the way that he shakes for hours afterward instead of doing something. He hates himself for the way that he crawls into Tony's lap once they get home, the way he tips his face up for a kiss, all so he can hear Tony say–

"I'm sorry, baby." Rough stubble prickling at Peter's temple, his cheek, his chin. "You know I would never hurt you, don't you? Never."

"I know," Peter whispers, and by the time they're done and Tony has made him come at least twice and told him again and again that he loves him, that he's perfect, that he's the only thing that matters, it will almost feel true.

(Peter thinks about the other Peters on that monitor, and how so many of them were strong and brave and stood up to people just like Tony, and he wonders how the other Peter died.)

He does save someone though, he thinks. Just once. He can't know for sure, because it's not one of the men that regularly comes to meet Tony at the tower, but he thinks maybe he helped.

The man is making excuses. He's in charge of one of Tony's projects, and he says that Tony gave him permission to take time off to take care of his mother after a surgery, and that's why the project is behind schedule. Tony doesn't remember and doesn't care and he gets angrier with every word out of the man's mouth, and eventually he stands, those silver tendrils exploding out of his suit to grapple the man down over his desk while he wails and pleads.

Tony takes a breath, and Peter knows he's going to tell Peter to leave the room, and he abruptly can't stand it.

"Daddy, don't," he says, the babyish word coming out in his desperate horror without him meaning to say it, and he hugs Tony around the waist like that means anything, like he can stop anything, like he's a version of himself that's actually strong.

Tony freezes, and for the length of what feels like a hundred rabbiting heartbeats Peter is terrified. He's never stood up to Tony in front of his men. He's barely stood up to him at all, and it never leads to anything anyway, and he suddenly doesn't know why he stuck himself out for this stranger who Tony is probably just going to kill anyway but this man has a family and Peter misses his mom so much he can barely breathe and he can't keep doing nothing he can't he can't he can't–

Tony turns gently in his grip, because Peter can't stop him, and Peter keeps his face buried against Tony's shoulder. He can still hear the sound of the man whimpering quietly from where he's pinned to the desk by Tony's tendrils, and he flinches when the weight of Tony's hand settles on his hair, gentle.

"Oh, sweetheart," Tony breathes, his voice strange– revelatory, tender, almost delighted. "Did Daddy scare you?"

The room is quiet. Peter is painfully aware of every other person listening– the guards by the door, the man on the desk, gasping in shaky breaths now instead of whimpering.

He can feel the weight of something important shifting, shifting, shifting when he nods his head, and the finality of something new settling into place when Tony wraps his arms around him.

"Get out," Tony says over his shoulder, and there's a clatter of noise as the man scrambles to the door. Tony adds, "You too," to the guards, and when the door clicks closed they're alone.

Peter shudders in Tony's arms, his body not able to reconcile the combination of relief and deep, primal fear coursing through his veins, and Tony clicks his tongue, pressing a kiss to the top of Peter's head.

"You really don't like coming to work with me, do you," he sighs, rubbing Peter's back. "I'm sorry, baby. You told me that, and I didn't listen."

He reaches to cup both sides of Peter's face, so Peter finally has to look up at him. He looks perfectly sweet, warm and fond and apologetic, and the contrast from his anger moments earlier is dizzying.

Tony strokes his thumbs tenderly over Peter's cheeks, and sighs one more time before he says, "All right, sweetie. If you promise that you'll be good, I'll let you stay in your room while I'm gone, okay? If that's really what you want."

It's so unexpected that it takes Peter a moment to understand that this is a compromise. Tony has never offered one before, and Peter had learned to stop asking a long time ago.

He rushes to gasp, "Yes– yes, please," and then, spontaneous and uncertain and thinking, adds, "Thank you, Daddy."

Tony smiles, and the chill it sends through Peter is anticipation just as much as disgust. Tony takes him upstairs to the penthouse then, and takes the entire rest of the day off work to make up for scaring him. It's almost nice, really, and if Peter doesn't like it when Tony tells him 'Daddy's got you' and 'that's right, let Daddy take care of you' in bed, it's still worth it, because–

The next day Peter gets to have four whole hours to himself until lunchtime, and then another four whole hours after that, and he can't remember the last time he didn't spend the whole day with Tony.

Things change after that.

Before, any protests Peter made would get shushed and brushed aside, Tony always gentle but never permissive. He would say that he knew best, that Peter would be okay, that Peter's way wouldn't work, and he would go on like Peter hadn't said anything at all. Requests were usually easier, Tony happy to bury Peter in gifts, but as for experiences– Tony's sense of what was too risky for Peter was broad and paranoid and stifling, and now–

It's shocking having a way to get Tony to listen to him, and Peter tries not to let it go to his head. He's careful. He doesn't ask for too much. He sprinkles in petty requests to throw off the scent of when he really, really wants something so it can't be used against him.

He acts like he really is all those dirty things his brother used to call him, and he bats his eyelashes and pouts and fawns, and he says "Daddy, please?" and "Can I, Daddy?" and "Daddy, I don't want to," and he gets what he wants.

But he knows just that won't be enough for what he really wants. Not by itself. He can't just stick out his bottom lip and simper his way into where he wants to go, so he'll need to add something else.

And Peter will give Tony this: for all that his obsession with his "son" is twisted and wrong, he really does seem to care more about making Peter come than himself. He always takes Peter in his mouth like it's a treat, but the first time Peter slides to his knees in front of him, he looks so shocked that it honestly seems like he hasn't even thought about it before.

"Petey," he says, ghosting his fingers over Peter's hair while Peter draws him out of his pants. "You don't have to do that if you don't want to, sweetie."

Peter knows it's part of why Tony is so sweet to him, but it irritates him sometimes when Tony acts like he actually buys the whole innocent lamb act, like he doesn't fuck Peter at least twice a day himself. Tony knows about Peter's brother, he knows Peter's done this before; Peter's even pretty sure it's part of why Tony picked him.

Peter takes a breath and pushes it all down, down, down, and he reaches for the part of himself that means it when he says, "I want to, Daddy."

He leans in, and if it's more bitter than he remembers– well, the aftermath is what's sweet.

It's hard to keep the request behind his teeth while Tony fawns over him after, showering him in kisses and praise and making him come so many times that Peter finally has to protest, "Daddy, no more," sluggish and sensitive and overheated.

But he wants Tony to think it's his idea, so he waits until finally, finally–

Tony chuckles and nuzzles in to kiss Peter's cheek, and he murmurs, "Okay, okay, baby. I just want to make you feel good after you were so good to me. What else can I do for you, hmm?"

Peter bites his lip and looks away, and it's not all playing shy. He's nervous, and he's really not sure how Tony is going to react, and if Tony squashes his hopes here– he can't think about that.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Tony croons, pushing back Peter's sweaty curls and kissing his forehead. "You can tell me, Petey; I know you've got something in mind."

"Can I–" Peter hesitates, and he'd like to say he's playing it up, but the way his eyes go wide and desperate and shiny is all real. "Daddy, can I… can I please see the monitor again? Please? I want… I want to see Grandma."

He doesn't know if it's a step too far and too false to call her that. Maria Stark would be his grandmother if he was actually Tony's son, and he's trying to– give a show of good faith, that even if he's still thinking about his real family he's accepted the false reality that Tony's made for them. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits to find out, and–

Tony sucks in a breath, staring at Peter in shock for the second time that night, but this time his expression resolves into regret and apology.

"Honey," he says softly, and Peter wants to scream, "I don't know if that would be the best thing for you. I think it'll make you sad, sweetheart."

No, Peter wants to say, but contradicting Tony will just make him dig in his heels, so instead he says, "I-I know, I know it will, but that's okay. It'll make me happy, too. Like getting older, right?"

He throws it in, a last-minute ad-lib; Tony jokes all the time about how sad it makes him to see Peter get older even though he's glad that Peter's growing up so sweet. It's a hit– Tony smiles, rueful, and Peter presses his advantage. He links his arms behind Tony's neck, cuddling close, all entirely-real doe eyes and quivering lips when he asks, "Daddy, please let me. Please?"

Tony sighs, and he leans in to scatter kisses over Peter's face when he murmurs, "You're getting too sweet for me, baby. All right, if you're sure that's what you want."

Peter's heart soars, and when he pulls Tony into a kiss he doesn't even have to fake enjoying it.

They go the next day. Tony is still reluctant about it, but he doesn't try to back out, and so they make their way to his private lab after breakfast.

It hits Peter harder than he expected. He knew it would make him sad, but he was imagining his mother bright and vibrant and happy. He barely recognizes the haggard woman on the screen, grayer than he left her and exhausted with grief, and it makes him cry so hard he can barely breathe.

"I told you, sweetheart," Tony sighs, rubbing Peter's back and stroking his hair, but he doesn't try to rush him out of the room early. "This is too hard for you, baby."

"I'm okay," Peter forces out between tears, because he can't lose access to this. "I w-wanted this. I'm s-so happy to see her. Thank you, Daddy."

It's going to be hard to play at being cheerful the rest of the day, he knows, but he'll have to if he wants Tony to ever let him come back to this room. Because even despite his tears, he did get what he was actually after: he watched how Tony selected a universe from the massive, awe-inspiring constellation of choices, and he memorized the coordinates that Tony punched in to pull up his true home.

And if he's ever going to get an opportunity to use them, he needs to get back in that room.

He makes it work. He's extra-sweet all day long, enough to curb Tony's concerns about the effect of their field trip on his mood, and he keeps it up after that. He pulls Tony into kisses and buttons his shirts for him in the morning. He pushes Tony back to ride him after work, their hands clasped together between them. He gets on his knees, he wakes Tony in the morning with a warm hand or slick mouth, he waits for Tony at lunchtime wearing one of his dress shirts and nothing else.

He's afraid at first that Tony might be put off by his new boldness, or at least suspicious, but Tony swallows the bait whole. He seems delighted that Peter is finally settling into his new life, eager to believe that Peter really has just grown more comfortable and mature in their relationship over time, and he even starts to trust Peter more. It's not even something that Peter asks for, but a week or two into his change of attitude, Tony gives him permission to access the rest of the suite while Tony's at work.

And that's not Peter's goal, but it does have some potential.

He does get to go back to the private lab. Peter doesn't ask for it every time, or even every other time, but Tony doesn't even hesitate to say yes, now. Peter plays up his excitement of the idea of the multiverse and of Tony's genius for making the machine; he plays up his interest in the other Peters; he checks in on his family.

And he watches the way Tony uses the monitor. He examines the construction of the machine. He pays attention to what features Tony uses when he navigates the 'verse map, and more than that, he pays attention to what features Tony avoids ever using in front of him.

He figures out slowly that his first plan won't work. As far as he can glean, the machine isn't built to have a way to send people back, and he knows he's not smart enough to figure out how to build that feature. He's smart, but even though the year on the calendar isn't even a full two decades ahead of Peter's actual universe, the technology may as well be a century more advanced– if the machine can only pull people to this universe, he isn't going to fool himself that he can change that by himself.

But still, every time he's in that room, he watches, and he thinks. He watches how Tony grows less attentive to his every move, more complacent in the idea that Peter is happy with their life. He watches how every day Tony gets closer to giving him permission to go to the lab by himself– it's not like he can use the machine to leave, after all. He watches how JARVIS sometimes lets him get away with things for a beat longer than he should, if Peter can make it look enough like an accident.

And he still watches the other Peters on the monitor. The ones that are older. The ones that are geniuses. The ones that save their cities from men like Tony. The ones that save the world.

Peter's not strong. He's not brave. He's not special.

He can't stop anything.

But he thinks he knows who can.

#fic: double blind #fic: pyrite #pyrite: peter #double blind: tony #prompt: multiverse #multiverse: kidnapping au #fic response #ursa interlude:#this is quite possibly the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written #we are truly getting to CLAMP levels of masturbatory multiverse drama here but I love it #ANYWAY. UM. ENJOY?!

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ironspiderfics · 7 months

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definitions are changed

by @iron--spider for @meilz

Rhodey hasn’t been able to get a hold of Tony all day.

And he’s dealt with that in the past. Plenty of times. Too many to count.

It isn’t an immediate red flag, like it might have been in the old days, but it gives him pause. Almost everything Tony does gives him pause. Because he’s always doing some shit.

But Rhodey goes about his day—does some paperwork, attends the virtual visit with his doctor, finishes filing the new entrants for Stark’s Displaced Blip Persons program—and he doesn’t really worry. He doesn’t really think about it.

…he does think about it…but not actively. Passively.

And when he realizes he isn’t worrying, he starts worrying. Like an on and off switch flipped by an iron hand.

He sits down in the living room and tries Tony’s cell again, gets the same three rings and snarky answering machine.

Rhodey clicks his tongue.

Tony’s probably fine. Rhodey thinks about calling Pepper, or even Peter, but he tells himself, once again, that he’s probably fine.

Probably.

Tony nearly died after all the bullshit, and Rhodey could say that about various moments of Tony’s life, sure, but this last one was the closest they’ve ever come to losing him permanently. And Rhodey knows what that’s like—on a smaller scale, but still. World nearly ended, Tony nearly gone along with it, and he’s been—calmer, since the dust settled. More behind the scenes, on most things. Not risking life and limb as much as he would have before everything went down.

“So where are you?” Rhodey says to himself, looking at his phone.

It isn’t like they had plans. They live together, technically, at the new facility, and he normally knows where Tony is and where everybody else is, but he’s overthinking this. He’s definitely overthinking this.

And he continues to do that.

He checks Friday’s list of who’s on the grounds. Just to be sure.

Happy’s here, at Security Central. Pepper is not here, but the calendar says she’s in Jersey today with Natasha, which tracks. Bucky and Sam are here, Thor isn’t here but he’s scheduled to be here tomorrow, but no Tony, and…no Peter.

Red flag.

Rhodey clicks his tongue again, seeing both of their names grayed out.

Correlation.

Chaos.

Rhodey can almost hear them laughing. He can almost feel the destruction in their wake. Peter is like a little version of Tony, and just as insane, if not more so, and he makes Tony more insane than he already was, in a different way, and Rhodey always thought a lot of things blew up when he worked with Tony, but Peter and Tony? It’s outrageous, it’s—it’s always something—

They’re sweet, sure, if sweet is a fireball cascading through the sky and Iron Man flying after it and Spider-Man trailing after him shooting webs at the fireball—

Rhodey sucks in a breath. Tries to turn his brain off.

Maybe they’re out to dinner? Maybe they’re at the workshop in Queens? Maybe they’re playing Mahjong with May, sometimes they have those weird tournaments. Maybe Tony’s touring MIT with him again. But Rhodey would probably know about that, he went with them last time. Maybe they’re—working on something—

Maybe they’re not even together. Maybe they’re both off being normal somewhere separately.

Rhodey bristles, for a minute.

Then he picks up his phone and texts May.

Seen your nephew today?

He doesn’t know why his brain is jumping to conclusions. He isn’t the one with the Spidey Sense, that’s the damn kid—but maybe he has a Tony sense, after his years of experience, and maybe it’s been heightened since the kid came into Tony’s life, since the kid was unceremoniously yanked from Tony’s life, since Tony spent a year and a half running himself ragged trying to move time and space to bring him back.

And he did it, didn’t he? Twisted the fabric of the universe to bring the kid back, and everyone else along with him.

And he hasn’t really let him out of his sight since…

He’s my kid, Rhodey. He is, not my blood, but he is—like you’re my brother, that’s my—that’s my—he’s like my son, he is. I can’t—there can’t be a world without him. Not while I can do something about it. Not while I can still try.

Tony likes to bury his sentimentality sometimes, but it works its way out with the people he loves most.

He’s a big marshmallow.

May answers and Rhodey grabs his phone. Not since this morning, he was on some mission with Tony. He didn’t tell you?

And Rhodey doesn’t have a second to process that before someone is literally bursting through the main door.

And that someone is the tiny, previously mentioned spider person, and he immediately falls flat on his face, on top of the door, which is no longer connected to the wall. He scrambles a little bit, briefly, as if he’s forgotten how to move his limbs, and Rhodey jumps up before Peter even braces his hands on the ground. Or on the door.

“What the hell?” Rhodey almost yells, weaving around the couch to get to him. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Peter is all dirty and dusty and his mask is only half on and his hair is sticking out in tufts from underneath it. He’s moving like a brand new baby giraffe, like he can’t pull himself back up, and Rhodey reaches him and hauls him up by his arms.

The kid looks around, his eyes wide like he doesn’t know where the hell he is.

“You destroyed the door,” Rhodey says, glancing over his shoulder. “Did you forget how to use doors, Parker?” He shakes his head, holding onto him. “It’s on the ground now—where’s Tony? What have you two been up to now, Jesus—”

Peter blows out a breath, looking around, and he finally meets Rhodey’s eyes.

He grins at him. “Hey. Hey! What’s up?”

Rhodey’s eyebrows furrow. “What’s—what’s up? Did you just ask me that? Don’t tell me you’ve been drugged again. That would be upwards of eight times this month—hey, earth to Peter—”

Peter blinks at him. “Not, uh—um, Rhodey. I need—we need…your assistance, just a small bit of your assistance—” He takes one step and nearly collapses, and Rhodey catches him before he can fall again.

Rhodey is getting a little worked up. What the hell is going on? “We, okay, we, I heard we—”

Peter shakes his head. “I’m not even that messed up I’ve just been running for a long time and my legs are sort of jelly, I ran out of webs a little bit ago so I had to like, run, a lot and for a little bit—a while—”

Rhodey takes him by the shoulders, ushering him over to the couch, and he sits him down on the arm of it.

Peter blinks. “I shouldn’t be sitting.”

“You need to sit,” Rhodey says, standing in front of him and keeping him there. “Okay, speak.”

“Speak?”

“You forgot the meaning of the word?”

Peter nods, and shakes his head, swaying. “We need your help, we, meaning—”

“You and Tony—”

“Yup, me and Tony, we uh, well—”

Rhodey narrows his eyes. “Pete, I’m gonna need you to focus here, where is he? Where’s Tony?”

Peter looks at him. He grimaces. He smiles, he laughs, breathlessly, and he glances off towards the open doorway that he opened when he destroyed the goddamn door, and this face journey isn’t giving Rhodey any indication as to where Tony might be.

“Peter—”

“Okay, uh. Okay, The story—the story is—”

There are way too many low level bad guys in the new world. Peter likes to call it the new world—the post-blip world, the world Tony and the rest of the Avengers saved, the world Tony brought Peter back into with a snap and a breath he thought he would be his last. Peter doesn’t like to cry in front of people, especially in front of super people, but he collapsed against Tony on that battlefield and cried and cried when he thought he was gonna die, and Rhodey had to pull him off and get him back together.

But Tony didn’t die. There were bedside vigils and close calls and so many whispered promises and it all added up to something, and he didn’t die.

And now they’re in the new world.

And Tony mostly stays behind, on Avengers missions. The voice in Peter’s ear, when he’s with the team, and they cut off onto private channels plenty so Tony can talk just to him, and Peter bounces back and forth between getting distracted by Tony’s presence and being coached by him. But either way, Tony usually doesn’t come on missions in the flesh unless he’s really worried something is gonna happen. And Peter doesn’t wanna sound selfish, or like he thinks he’s fancy or anything like that, but usually that fear Tony has is something happening to Peter.

Which, like. Fair.

It grates on him sometimes, but more often than not it’s nice, that he cares so much. His words echo in Peter’s ears, and he knows why.

I can’t lose you again, alright? So if I think you need me, I’m gonna be there.

And Peter takes that to heart. And he’ll protect him too.

But the new world has a lot of new jerk bad guys festering underneath all the rebuilding and relocation and integration, and there’s an entire syndicate of enhanced morons coming together to form their own anti-Avengers in Queens. In Peter’s own backyard! It makes him a little insane, how close it’s all happening to May and MJ and Ned, especially after everything they’ve been through. None of these guys are anything like Vulture, not anything like Thanos, or even the fishbowl guy that terrorized the Stark campuses across New York a couple months ago, but they’re still—a threat. They can still cause a lot of damage. They’re getting too organized, they’re helping each other, they’re giving each other resources. They rob banks, they hit FEAST centers, and they aren’t above hurting civilians to get what they want.

Peter knows firsthand what they can do.

And once Peter found it, Tony insisted on going with him to sabotage their hidden home base.

And it went fine, at first. They’ve been monitoring their movements and they know when there’s nobody around, and when they went in it was just their security on duty, which are just a couple NYU frat guys who have no real idea what’s going on and what they’re getting paid for.

They were able to override the cameras for the areas they’d be working in. Just like in Speed. Peter’s idea. Except they did it better than in the movie. No disappearing purse.

“You’re just walking along in the suit,” Peter said.

“We’re in a hallway. You want me to fly?”

“I mean, you’re clomping. You’re just. You’re clomping down the hallway.”

“You’re skipping!” Tony said, gesturing to him. “You’re skipping in a bad guy lair. Does that seem inappropriate? Sources say yes.”

Peter snorted, and Tony grinned at him.

(— “and we were on our way out, we were literally leaving” —)

They kept walking. Peter knew the layout of this place like the back of his hand at that point, and they were only a few turns away from the spot they came in at.

“You got the cluster bombs going off right now, right?” Tony asked.

“Yup,” Peter said, and Karen gave him all his stats. “Few more in ten. And the scramble is already happening, so all the information should be wiped by—”

“Looks like midnight to me,” Tony said.

“Karen says we’re synced,” Peter said. “And the frat guys just got the burger delivery and they’re distracted by the driver so we’re—good on that front too—you didn’t need to come with me on this one, you know? It was pretty, uh—free and clear, with all the research we did, and we knew none of them would be here because they’re out there trying to—cause antics—”

“And Bruce is monitoring them to make sure no actual antics are caused,” Tony said, and he smiled at Peter again. “I didn’t want you going in it alone, just in case something went wrong or—one of them came back, or if you needed help. I know most of these guys are lame as hell, but some of them are, uh—and you know the one in particular—”

“I know, I know,” Peter said, because he did know. Personally. And he didn’t like to think about it.

“So I wanted to back you up,” Tony said, nodding at him. “Just in case. Make sure it’s all good.”

And Peter knows Tony wants to back him up, and protect him, especially after the shit that's happened, but sometimes it still shocks him to be in it, to be faced with it. He closed his eyes and laughed a little bit, continuing to walk. He was glad he had his mask on because he knew his face was red, and he wished he could stop being surprised by how much Tony cared about him because they literally spend most of their time together and it’s pretty normal and commonplace but here he is, tearing up over it again—

“Well, that’s uh, that’s—I mean, it was easier, to set the traps and stuff, with you here, but that’s uh, that’s—that’s really—”

And Peter glanced over at him and he was gone.

Gone!

(— “oh so he disappeared is that what you’re telling me he disappeared into thin air that’s what we’re dealing with” —)

“Tony?” Peter asked, spinning around on the spot. “Tony?”

How? He was alone, all of a sudden, when seconds before—and was this something more sinister than—Tony was in an entire Iron Man suit that isn’t exactly inconspicuous—was it aliens was it one of the guys was he invisible and following them—

(— “okay I don’t need to hear your entire thought process where was he did you find him why are you here without him come on Peter” —)

“Tony?” Peter asked again, and he heard a crash. A crash that sounded like it was below him somehow, and he stared at the ground. “Uh. Tony?”

“Peter!” Tony’s voice yelled. From. Somewhere.

Peter just stood there. He spun in a circle like a cat, looking around, glancing—around, and below, and around, and—

“I fucking fell! Through the goddamn floor!”

He sounded so far away, and Peter started looking down. Why did he have to be looking away when this happened? He could have seen where he went but nooo—

“Which floor?” Peter asked, his eyes wide.

“Which—the floor!” Tony yelled, and Peter tried to follow his voice. “The floor we were walking on!”

“I don’t see any holes—”

“There wasn’t a hole there was—one of the panels must have—I don’t know I didn’t have time to analyze the situation as I was falling into the abyss—”

“Karen do you like—see any of the panels that sticks out like the things in cartoons in the background like the thing that looks different and is drawn different because you know it’s gonna move—”

“What are you saying?” Tony yelled, and he sounded closer. “What are you talking about?”

Karen highlighted the panel Peter was standing on top of. Peter kneeled down and started banging on it. “Hey! Hey! I’m on top of you!”

“Do not say that,” Tony said, and he sounded very far away even though he wasn’t really far away. Was he?

“Karen how deep is it?” Peter asked. “Is he in danger? Well, we’re in a bad guy place—is he in imminent danger—”

“Peter, step back!” Tony yelled. “I wanna try something. Step back, step—take a bunch of steps back—”

Peter sighed, and stepped back, trying to keep a mental note of which panel is the right one. And he stepped back and stared and waited. And he might have heard a couple little noises but they didn’t sound like anything.

“What are you—wait, why can’t you connect through coms to talk to me?” Peter yelled.

“Not working—repulsors not working either, some of my—some of my suit capabilities are being blocked—can’t fly out—”

He was yelling and yelling louder and Peter felt antsy, because this was easy and then it wasn’t. He rushed over and laid himself out and started trying to peel up the panel.

“Can’t fly out—still trying to fly out can’t fly out—Friday stop—stop updating me on the weather—”

“They must have—some kinda something some kinda—blocker or something on that level—you’re in—” Peter was pulling and gritting his teeth so hard that it felt like they might bust, but the panel wasn’t budging.

“What are you doing?” Tony yelled. “Don’t hurt yourself. Pete! Don’t hurt yourself. Jesus I shouldn’t even be using your name—”

“I’m not hurting myself I’m just trying to—”

He pulled so hard that he lost his grip and flew backwards, hitting the wall. He was starting to panic, and he tried to relax, but that’s impossible sometimes—he almost feels better when he’s the one that’s in trouble, because when Tony is in trouble Peter never feels capable enough to fix it, even though he has to fix it or he would go nuts, and Tony being in danger is worse than Peter himself being in danger because he’s Tony and how can Tony be in danger—

(— “Jesus Christ, Peter” — )

Peter scooted back over and tried to start prying again. He wished he had some grenades or something.

“Spidey, scan the area, make sure they aren’t back yet—”

Peter could hear the coms trying to connect, Tony’s voice trying to come through, and what the hell was going on? Why was there a blocker underneath the floor? They got in and out easy as pie, nobody detecting them—

But maybe this was detection—

And that would mean they know—

Peter checked the stats. “Nobody’s here yet and those guys are still out front talking to the drivers,” he said, gritting his teeth again and trying not to lose his grip this time.

“Can’t believe I fell through the goddamn floor like we’re in a Looney Toons episode—okay, kid, we gotta figure this out—”

Peter knew they were gonna be back soon—

“Okay, so we have to go get him,” Rhodey says, clapping Peter on the shoulder.

“You didn’t let me finish—”

“What else happened?” Rhodey asks, fast. “Big grand goodbye? Did he tell you to come get me? Did anybody ambush you?”

“No, it was—I mean, yeah, we said goodbye, it was—it was scary and upsetting, it sucked, he couldn’t get it—I don’t even know how he got in or if it was on purpose I don’t even know it just happened out of nowhere I don’t even know if it was a trap—he said he loved me he said be careful—it’s still crazy to me when he says he loves me I mean obviously we love each other like family you know but still it’s sometimes like whoa—that’s Tony Stark—”

Rhodey scoffs at him, and he’s trying to plan in his head. “Yeah, right, we know he loves you—so nobody ambushed you, why are you so dirty and messed up?”

Peter glances away. “I mean, like I said that was just from—I ran out of webs, I came a long way back and like I got tired there’s a lot of emotions at play here and I was running and emotional and I almost got hit by a bus and—”

“Okay,” Rhodey says, still holding him by the shoulder.

He knows about these guys, Tony has talked to him about these guys and how concerned he is about them and how they’ll affect Spider-Man. Rhodey thinks he remembers Tony saying one of them was…a Rhino guy? A bunch of goddamn misfits and they’re gonna kill somebody, whether on purpose or by accident. Tony tries to act nonchalant, but Rhodey knows how worried he gets. Peter tries to take on more than he can handle. A lot like…someone else.

Rhodey clicks his tongue. “I’ll transfer the information from Karen to me, you can stay here—”

“No,” Peter says, leaping to his feet. “No, I’m not staying. I’m not staying here.”

Rhodey huffs at him. “Kid, you’re messed up—”

“I’m not messed up. I’m not.” He’s shaking his head, and he always looks young to Rhodey, but with that look on his face, and his hair all wild, he looks like a child in a costume. “I’m just dirty, I’m just—I was just—”

“You destroyed the door. You knocked it down.”

“I mean sometimes I’m just running, sometimes I’m just moving fast and things get knocked over, sometimes that happens, sometimes people get knocked over, good thing you weren’t standing there—”

Rhodey closes his eyes, hangs his head. “Peter, what the hell is Tony gonna say when I roll up back into this bad guy lair with you with me after you already escaped—”

And Peter is taking Rhodey by the shoulders now, as if he thinks he’s got the upper hand. “We did not escape because we were never captured—we invaded them—and I know Tony’s still there I know I know but honestly I wouldn’t even classify this as him being captured but anyway you’re gonna help me yay okay let’s go we’re wasting time let’s go—”

He brushes past him before Rhodey can even look up, and Rhodey moves after him and grabs his shoulders and spins him around so Peter’s facing him again. He did it almost on autopilot, like Tony’s spirit possessed him briefly and imbued him with fatherly instincts.

“New suit, Mr. I’m Just Running. Mr. I’m Moving Fast. Gonna go in there completely useless, Jesus, new web cartridges too, Christ—”

Peter nods, a little manically, and Rhodey wonders if they did get into some shit and he’s leaving it out. But he shakes his head and follows him in the direction of the workshops.

“Is this how you and Tony get around? You use him as a surfboard?”

“Only when I’m out of webs,” Peter says, perched on Rhodey’s back as they fly in stealth mode.

“You are not out of webs. You just restocked. You’re up to your eyes in webs.”

“Since we’re in stealth, can people see me? Are you completely invisible? Does it look like I’m walking on air?”

This is something Tony’s talked about. When Peter says things that are random and silly but also, what the hell is the answer? Rhodey knows he’s not completely invisible in stealth, but to people who are looking—but does he want that to be the answer—

Peter sighs, and he shifts so he’s literally sitting on Rhodey’s back and his legs are hanging down.

“Kid, this is—this is strange, you’re—I mean, what if I have to change trajectory—”

“It’s fine I’ve got good balance,” Peter says. He kicks his feet a little, and Rhodey narrows his eyes. “I’m worried. I’m worried about Tony.”

“We’re gonna go get him,” Rhodey says, setting his jaw and glancing at the time to their destination. “It’s gonna be okay. This is nothing for him, the shit we’ve gotten into? This is nothing. Just a little break.”

“I just—it’s just—it’s just like, when it’s me that’s hurt or lost or stuck or whatever it’s like okay, sure, makes sense, I’m younger and I’m always learning—I am expert level at a lot of things, most things, but I’m still learning—”

Rhodey finds himself smiling a little bit. “Uh huh.”

“But when it’s Tony…I don’t know, he’s—he’s just—I know he’s not invincible but he feels invincible and I just, it just—”

“I know,” Rhodey says, hit with a wave of sentimentality. “I know. It’s hard to, uh, see him in trouble. He’s like a little brother to me, like a dad to you, either way—”

“You shouldn’t see your dad hurt,” Peter says, and his voice is rough, like he’s tearing up.

“It’s fine,” Rhodey says, fast, because Peter’s gotta get his head in the game, because he might not be focusing properly if he’s getting emotional about it. And if he starts getting too emotional, Rhodey might, and that’s not good for anybody. “He’s probably just lounging around in there. He’s not hurt, it’s fine. We’re gonna get him.”

And Rhodey does get it. He gets all that. He loves Tony to the ends of the earth, he drives him insane but he never wants anything to happen to him. And maybe he underestimated just how much Tony means to Peter. He knew, he knows, but maybe it’s deeper than he realized. He knows what happened to Peter’s father, his uncle, and how close he was to his uncle. He knows he almost lost Tony, too.

They’re on the same wavelength. At least with this, anyway.

“The guys are back to their little evil lair,” Peter sighs. “Little, midsized, I don’t know—”

Rhodey narrows his eyes, and Peter’s AI, Karen, is quiet for a second.

And then, after a moment, the information comes through on Rhodey’s HUD.

“Looks like they haven’t found him yet,” Peter says. “Maybe they won’t, maybe that’s—I mean, they’re not super smart, maybe this is just an actual like, problem—that piece of tile opens up into—maybe it’s not an actual trap—”

“I doubt that,” Rhodey says, looking at the blueprints they have of the compound. “It definitely sounds like a trap—”

“And I still can’t connect to him—which I guess is probably good because it probably definitely means that they haven’t found him yet—”

Rhodey gets the indication that they can’t connect to Tony, a few long moments after Peter mentioned it, and he narrows his eyes. “Do you have some kind of backdoor code that allows you to get information before other people—”

Peter shifts into a perch again on Rhodey’s back. “Um, hm, you know, I don’t know—”

“Peter.”

“Yeah, yes. I do, I did that. So I can take care of things if I’m the cause of the problem—that sounds a lot more, uh, martyr—martyr-like—that’s not the purpose, I’m—”

“It’s incredibly dangerous,” Rhodey says, scoffing. “Peter, you’re—ten years old—”

“That’s a massive exaggeration—”

“Someone else, one of your other team members, in this instance me, could be more equipped—oh shit—”

The cloud comes out of nowhere, and he twists and avoids it, and clouds always fuck up the stealth and usually he gets indications when he’s about to fly through a bigger one and he was avoiding them fine and he wonders if Peter’s little time delay had anything to do with missing it and he hears Peter fall off and into the open air, yelling, and his heart nearly bursts out of his chest—

“Oh shit—”

And Rhodey is about to rocket down but Peter shoots a web and latches into Rhodey’s ankle.

“Are you good?” Rhodey yells, a little too loud, into their com connection. He looks down, sees the kid twisting around and spinning like an actual spider. “That was stupid. That was so stupid, I’m sorry, I knew you were there, I didn’t think—”

“Killer cloud!” Peter yells, trying to climb his way back up the web. “It’s gonna kill us! Red alert, code red!”

Rhodey rolls his eyes, and takes off a little faster. “Stay down there. Your surfboard privileges have been revoked—”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, I was just existing—”

“And don’t tell Tony about that, what just—what just occurred—”

“Oh I’m gonna tell him and he’s gonna be mad—”

Rhodey sighs. It’s bad, because he knows it’s true.

“Stop stomping.”

“I’m not stomping. You need to respect your elders.”

The place is overrun with assholes. They’re dealing with the aftermath of what Tony and Peter did to their place, which was essentially exploding a bunch of their weapons and scrambling their hard drives, and Rhodey guesses that was a good plan, maybe a lead-in to making it easier to catch them. He feels stupid right now, because a bunch of these dickheads who have been causing problems are here right now, with a bunch of their powerless employees (probably hangers-on, wanting to have powers, and they are probably giving themselves powers and that’s probably why half of their powers are shitty and why half of them are landing in the hospital asking to speak to Bruce Banner—Rhodey remembers Tony telling him that story—)

And Peter rushes out in front of Rhodey, and looks both ways, and then he’s running away from him—

“Okay, dummy, you came and got me for a reason, you can’t get him out without me, that was the entire purpose—”

But Peter isn’t saying anything, just rushing out ahead trying to get to the spot where Tony is first, and for what reason, Rhodey doesn’t know.

Rhodey keeps looking at the map they’ve got, every time Karen pings another guy to keep track of and avoid, and he keeps wondering if Peter has a more updated version of events.

Friday is still unreachable. Rhodey knows these assholes aren’t Thanos, or even the Mandarin, or Whiplash or anybody else Tony has faced, but he’s still filled with dread and the kind of anxiety that Tony is normally known for, not him. Is it because he hasn’t heard Tony’s voice? Is it because Peter is bounding out ahead of him like a golden retriever puppy? Is it because he knows if anything happens to Peter in Rhodey’s care that Rhodey would hear about it from Tony for the rest of his life?

“It’s right here,” Peter hisses, like someone is close by and listening, even though Rhodey knows Tony and Peter’s traps destroyed most of the security cameras. “I think. Wait. I marked it with a little web.”

“Because that’s not obvious—”

“It’s little—” He’s crab-walking along the floor like a lunatic, but then the eyes on his mask get all big and he slams his hands on the ground. “Here it—Tony! Tony, it’s me! It’s me and I’m back and I brought Rhodey!”

Peter is already trying to peel at the side of the floor panel, like he didn’t try that before and knows it won’t work, and Rhodey rushes over, quick as he can, and he’s definitely stomping now.

He hears Tony’s voice.

“Rhodey? Don’t let him fall in too, kid, this is a trap for us iron people—”

“I’m not gonna fall in too, you moron,” Rhodey says. He hears Tony laugh, which lights a fire under him, and he starts burning around the edges of the panel. “Find a good spot in the middle somewhere, I’m gonna drop this panel on your head—”

“Oh, nice, just what I wanted—”

“I need one of these little burner guys in every single one of my suits from now on—”

“Pete, step back, come on—”

“Okay okay—”

And Rhodey burns around the entire outside of the panel, reaches the beginning of his line, and it falls in.

And there have been plenty of moments in Rhodey’s life when a lot of things are happening at once. And a lot of those moments involve Tony, and his chaotic energy, going all the way back to MIT and shit exploding before it ever had a right to explode, but he guesses Tony touching anything gives it a right to explode—

But this one startles Rhodey, for some reason—maybe because getting Tony back was so built-up in his head because Peter’s anxiety is big and ballooning all around them—

But there’s a spray of bullets, and the lights flicker, and there’s—sparks of electricity? And a rolling wave, and some other shit, because somehow the two of them were so focused on finding Tony that they didn’t realize the conglomeration of dickheads were converging on their location, with their mishmash of powers and assholery—

And Peter cries out, slipping forward a bit and nearly falling into the newly opened panel—

And like a phoenix rising, Tony shoots out of the ground, grabbing onto Peter on his way out, and he flies down the hallway.

“Shit,” Rhodey breathes, a few bullets ricocheting off of his suit as he follows in Tony’s wake—

“Rhodes, can you make a big old hole in the wall there for me—”

“Coming right up,” Rhodey says, and he aims with both hands and fires two high caliber repulsor blasts at the same spot, and the wall blows out, lending them a new exit.

And they fly out, spiraling into the air like two comets finding their way back into the sky.

“Peter,” Rhodey says, hearing the last vestiges of the assholes firing at them and yelling obscenities. “Shit, uh, we should probably send someone—”

“A bunch of someones are coming,” Tony says, and when Rhodey looks over, he’s clutching Peter close. “I don’t know why the hell we were even playing spy games, we should have just—”

“They’re not all there right now,” Peter gasps, and he groans, wrapping his arms tighter around Tony’s neck. “Rhino’s not even—they’re not all—that was the thing, we were gonna—we were gonna take them out in stages, and it would be harder after—after the first stage—”

“Well, now the first stage is a bunch of explosions and a rescue—Friday, tell me what’s going on with him—”

“I can tell you what’s going on with me, I got shot—”

“He’s not wearing one of the bulletproof suits?” Tony asks, and he’s got the nerve to glance over at Rhodey when he asks it.

“I didn’t dress him,” Rhodey says, speeding up a little bit. “He was ready to run out guns blazing in his other suit, which he somehow shredded just coming home all freaking out—”

“I didn’t mention that—when I was coming to get you—some of our traps went off early and maybe on my way out I ran through some of them—”

Rhodey scoffs, rolling his eyes so hard that it hurts. “Yeah, okay, there you go, there we have it, the truth comes out—”

“Rhodey, he’s been shot—”

“Okay, so, he still did something stupid, and lied, and he knows which of his suits are bulletproof and which ones aren’t—”

“We were moving quickly,” Peter says, and he coughs a little bit. “I was worried, I know you were worried, not as much as me though—”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Tony says, and Rhodey sees him kicking Friday into the highest gear. “I was relaxing—”

“What did I tell you?” Rhodey asks. “What’d I say?”

Peter coughs again, laying his head on Tony’s shoulder. “Losing a lot of blood. Definitely dying.”

“You are not,” Tony says. “Friday?”

Rhodey can’t hear her response, and he sighs.

Peter better not be goddamn dying. Not after something stupid like this. He’s done stupid shit in his life but this particular thing was really stupid, and if Peter died at the end of it, Tony would never forgive himself. Tony doesn’t forgive himself when Peter gets a goddamn hangnail, so this would be—worse than that. By far.

And Rhodey wouldn’t be happy about it either.

“Pete, hang on,” Tony says, and Rhodey sees him cradling the back of Peter’s head. “We’re not too far—”

“Did you know,” Peter says, “that Rhodey made me fly the entire way hanging by a web that was attached to his ankle—”

Rhodey scoffs again. “Wow—”

“Rhodey, come on—”

“Wow—”

“He’s fine,” Rhodey says, standing shoulder to shoulder with Tony outside of Peter’s med bay room. “He’s fine. Right as rain.”

Tony glances at him, his eyes narrowed. “He got shot in the back.”

“In the shoulder—”

“He uses his shoulders a lot.”

“Who doesn’t?” Rhodey asks, raising his eyebrows. “Maybe if someone didn’t fall into a hole like the fucking Wily Coyote—”

“It’s Wile E. Coyote, the ‘e’ is his middle initial—listen, this was a lot more Bugs Bunny,” Tony says. He sighs big, and looks back over towards the closed door, where Helen is talking to Peter.

Rhodey sighs too.

“You should have just let SHIELD take care of that place,” he says. “You didn’t need to go in there with this multilayer three-pronged attack on this week’s episode of the Iron Man and Spider-Man show. I mean yeah, there are a bunch of them, and it’s concerning, and I know how you feel like you need to take care of shit on your own sometimes, but this is the new world. I know Peter calls it that, and I’ve started calling it that too, because in the new world Tony Stark is more cautious. I get a lot less ulcers now, knowing that most of the time you’re on a couch or behind a desk. Or at worst, behind a computer screen. When I see Peter rolling up knocking doors down because you fell through the floor in some cartoon situation on a side mission, it feels a lot like the old days. And you’ve been through too much shit to be reverting back to the old days. This nearly-dying situation was different than the other nearly-dying situations.”

Rhodey tries not to speechify, but that one got away from him. He sighs again and leans against the wall, and Tony looks at him.

“He knocked a door down?”

“He did. Living room on the fourth floor. I haven’t done anything about it yet. Happy’s probably seen it by now.”

Tony nods. He cracks his jaw and looks down at the ground. “Uh, couple months ago, remember when I went to the lakehouse with the kid and May?”

Rhodey does. They were gone for almost a month, Pepper was ferrying back and forth up there, saying things were fine. Rhodey was busy, and he asked a couple times, but all he got was fine, yeah. It’s all fine. “Yeah,” he says, tentatively.

There’s new tension in Tony’s shoulders. “Well, uh—that Rhino guy, that’s one of the members of that asshole club we just blew through—he nearly broke Peter’s back.”

Rhodey feels chills go through him. “What?”

“Pete didn’t want to tell anybody, and he didn’t break it, it was just a nearly, but he was really hurt, and emotionally, uh—it wasn’t—it wasn’t great, it was—it was hard for me, to see him like that. And then as soon as we get back, he starts going after them harder, and we had a couple blow-ups, because it was insane to me, that he was doing that after what just happened to him, and yes, I know, me, me, me, mini-me, but still, I just—yeah, it felt personal, with me and this place and this guy—and he wasn’t even fucking there tonight for the strike team to get—but maybe I wasn’t thinking, maybe I was thinking a little bit too much, but I’ll always remember how hurt Peter was and the pain he was in and I knew he was just gonna keep running at them anyway and I wasn’t gonna let him do it on his own. Not him. Not—my kid.”

Rhodey nods at him, and almost doesn’t know what to say. He feels a little sick about it, but he tries to stay present.

“And don’t get on me about not telling you, I was gonna, eventually, but things just, you know, things happen, they keep happening—”

“Yeah, I sure know that,” Rhodey says. He watches him, the way his eyes search the ground, avoiding his gaze until he looks up again. “He’s okay now, though. It was essentially a graze.”

“It was not a graze,” Tony snaps.

“You woulda called that a graze in the past—”

“Yeah, okay, well, yeah, for myself, maybe—”

“But when it’s a spider baby, things are different, huh? Definitions are changed?”

“Definitions are changed,” Tony says, definitively.

Rhodey snorts. “The two of you are truly two peas in a pod. He was all worried about you on the way in, all antsy about it—”

“Oh, you weren’t antsy about me being stuck in an enemy lair? How the tables have turned—”

“I knew what was going on,” Rhodey says, knocking him on the shoulder. “It was truly some Looney Toons shit. Probably some old trap they didn’t even realize was there—”

“You didn’t know that, none of us knew that—”

“But it was true, right? I had a feeling, when Peter described it to me—and his narrative detail is great, by the way, we should do Spider-Man Story Time for kids at some of the local bookstores—they’d eat it up—”

“I’ve thought that,” Tony says, smiling fondly. “That’s so funny, I’ve thought that, and now you’re saying it, so it’s a sign we need to set it up—”

“Yes—but the way he described it I knew you were fine. Not great, but not injured, not in imminent danger. I know some of these guys are genuinely dangerous, like the Rhino asshole you’re talking about, but it feels like the vast majority of them are morons.”

Tony blows out a breath, nodding. “I know Pete gets worried. I know. I get worried. We’re both worried, and it’s just—”

“It’s sweet and I like seeing it,” Rhodey says. He shakes his head. “I mean. I don’t like seeing you worried. But the two of you—I like that you have—I like that you’re in a dad position. It’s nice—”

Tony cracks his jaw. “Pep and I just never—”

“I know,” Rhodey says, stopping him before he can get into that, “but you’ve got it with Peter. And he needed it and you needed it and it’s nice. You put up a front and a lot of people take that at face value, take you as that, all your quipping and dumb one-liners—”

“They aren’t dumb, they are carefully crafted—”

“Yeah, I know, I’m well aware, but a lot of people just see that, and think that’s who you are, when really you’re marshmallow fluff. Completely and totally, and especially for certain people—considering I’m one of those people—but I know Peter loves being one of them too. And it’s sweet. As annoying as the two of you can be.”

Tony scoffs, pushing off the wall. “He’s annoying.”

“You’re both annoying. And maximum annoying when you’re together.”

Tony glares over his shoulder, and he knocks ever so slightly on the door before he’s pushing it open.

“Jesus, what if he’s changing—”

“He shouldn’t be changing, he should be in pajamas, in the bed, right, Peter—”

And when they walk inside, Peter is halfway out the window. He’s wearing Tony’s hoodie, and a pair of jeans, and Helen isn’t even in there at all. Tony makes a small noise, like he’s been shot, and he glances at Rhodey as if he’s making sure he’s not insane, and then he looks back at Peter without getting confirmation because he already goddamn knows.

“What are you doing—”

“Why are you up—”

“Are you out of your damn mind—”

“After everything we just went through—you just got shot—”

“Peter, honestly—”

“And where is Helen?” Tony yells, his hands on his hips, and Peter is just frozen there, one knee in the window frame. “Where did she—what did you do to—”

“I didn’t do anything to!” Peter yells, getting down. “She left through the interior door,” he yells, gesturing to it. “And then I got up, and put some clothes on, and I—”

“And you were gonna leave, and escape, and go live on Governors Island—”

“No, no, I was just going to go around, and go up a floor, and come back down so you didn’t see me, because Tony—”

“Eventually, I was going to see you, Peter, this plan was flawed—”

“A lot of that going around lately,” Rhodey says, before he means to, and Tony shoots him a look. Rhodey clears his throat.

“May can’t keep coming here and seeing me in the med bay,” Peter says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Like, we had a whole talk, about the new world, and being more careful in the new world, and now here I am, again, and this one is so stupid, and MJ is coming with her this time and she said if I keep getting hurt that she’s gonna start a rumor that she’s Spider-Man and that’s gonna put a lot of scrutiny on her that I don’t want her to have and I know she’ll do it.” He swallows hard. “So.”

“We already told May something happened,” Rhodey says, throwing his arms up.

“But not—not—I mean, something could be anything, doesn’t have to be like—I mean, something could be the roof caving in, and me being a hero—”

Tony scoffs. “We can’t—quickly cave in the roof just to back up a bullshit story—”

But Rhodey knows he would, if it came to that, and he knows that for sure.

Peter rushes over, and grabs Tony by the arms. He doesn’t even look that bad, only a little pale, but Rhodey knows even the slightest bit of paleness is enough to win Tony over. Especially with their whole heart to heart in the hallway, and Peter getting hurt at all—the odds just aren’t in his favor.

“Please,” Peter says, the final nail in the coffin. “Let’s just—come up with something—no med bay, let’s meet her in like—the lounge—nowhere near the door, the broken door, which I’ll fix, let’s just—come up with something—”

“There was a chemical leak,” Tony says, almost deadpan. “That you discovered, and you saved a whole pool of interns. We can meet May and MJ in the living quarters upstairs and we’ll—order pizza. No med bay.”

Peter takes a tiny moment to process that he actually just won this battle, despite trying to escape through the window, and his face breaks out into the most beautiful, shiny smile. Enough that Tony smiles too, and Rhodey finds himself smiling, even though he’s almost nauseated by the ridiculousness of them.

Peter hugs Tony tight, and Tony hugs him back, careful of his right shoulder. He pats his back, closing his eyes, and Peter pulls back, still grinning at him. “Thank you thank you thank you. I’m gonna go up there now and set the scene. And I’ll order the pizza. Thank you thank you.”

He looks at Rhodey before he leaves, and winks at him, over the top and exaggerated and not at all subtle. He nearly skips out of the room, and Tony stands there, his shoulders wilting.

“Don’t say it—”

“And pushover of the year goes to—”

“How’d I know you were gonna say it—”

“He was trying to climb out the window,” Rhodey says, as the two of them head into the hallway. “Did being stuck under the floorboards for a couple hours scramble your brain?”

“They weren’t floorboards, this wasn’t a haunted house, this was highly sophisticated—”

“I hope you’re not arguing semantics with me,” Rhodey says. “Not you, of all people—”

“Peter!” Tony calls, because Peter is still racing down the hall within eyesight. “Be careful—and make sure to get eggplant on Rhodey’s pizza. He loves it! He loves it so much!”

Rhodey pushes him with his elbow, and Tony pushes him back, grabbing him around the middle and pulling him into half a bear-hug. Rhodey snorts, wrapping his arm around him.

“Thanks for taking care of him, you know, up until the whole getting shot thing—”

“That was on you, you were back in charge then,” Rhodey says, gripping his shoulder. “And when the next missions start, with the den of assholery, let me help the two of you, huh?”

“Oh, War Machine wants to join?” Tony says, letting go of him.

“Yeah,” Rhodey says. “I do. I wanna have your backs.”

Tony grins at him again. “Noted,” he says.

And hopefully he is actually noting it. Because Rhodey does want to be there, to cover the two of them while they cover each other. He’s known Tony for a long time, most of his life, and he loves him beyond.

And he does love the way he loves this kid.

He can’t let anything happen to either one of them.

“Extra eggplant!” Peter yells, before turning the corner. “Got it!”

Rhodey rolls his eyes, and Tony giggles. An inside joke, over thirty years old, and he still goddamn giggles about it.

“They’re all going onto your plate,” Rhodey says, pushing him again.

“Just like last time.”

#irondad #iron dad #peter parker #tony stark #james rhodey rhodes #spider-man #iron man #war machine #works by iron_spider #irondad fic #iron dad fic #marvel fic

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