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ironspiderfics · 5 months

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turn this car around

by @iron--spider for @foreverday

Peter doesn’t know why he ever expects anything to be simple.

Simple isn’t even a word he knows anymore. Nothing is ever simple for Spider-Man, and he knows he sounds like he’s moaning and groaning and that a lot of people would give a lot of money to be in his position but they can keep it because it isn’t worth it because nothing is ever simple.

Sure, he saves people all the time, and that matters and it’s important, and sure, he has access to Tony and the Avengers and that’s something he would never trade, ever, not in a million years, but a lot of the time it feels like his Parker luck chemically combined with his Spider-Man luck, and that’s hit and miss at best and terrible at worst.

He can’t go into a public bathroom without the toilet overflowing. He can’t go on a date with MJ without his card being declined for no reason (except not paying attention to his automatic billing but it’s fine) and he can’t move from place to place without something falling into his path. Lost cat lost person lost backpack sudden storm sudden traffic something something anything everything.

Sometimes he feels like he’s cursed, sometimes he feels like simple and normal are things he’s never gonna know again, and sometimes he’s alright with that but then other times he’s stuck on the Red line train for an hour because someone is standing on the tracks holding up the trains with BAN SPIDER-MAN signs.

It’s Boston! Why is that even happening here? He only goes out as Spider-Man here every so often so there is really no need for protests—

It’s nonstop, nonstop, nonstop—

“Listen, it’s fine,” Tony says, as they walk out of the office. “It’s fine. It went well. It doesn’t matter.”

“It mattered,” Peter says, already nursing a headache, and of course his headaches are worse than normal people’s headaches and the only medicine that can actually help him is some workshop concoction that he’s out of right now. “It mattered. They looked at me weird.”

“They were looking at me,” Tony says, widening his eyes at him. “Everyone at MIT looks at me that way. You know that, there are too many incidents trailing after me, I’m always gonna get looks—the fountain incident, the disaster at Simmons Hall, the incident with the crab legs—all of this in my college tenure, by the way, nothing to do with Iron Man—”

“It can’t be that serious or you wouldn’t have volunteered to go with me to try and help me,” Peter says, glancing at him.

“My name’s still my name,” Tony says, shrugging at him. “Stark still carries weight—a little bit more around the midsection lately, too, we gotta get back in the ring—”

Peter snorts. “What? You are not gaining weight.”

“Tell Pepper that. Tell her that when she pats my stomach and says nothing and walks away—”

Peter laughs again, but it hurts his head, and he winces. He’s not at his thesis yet, not by a longshot, but he’s having the same issues at MIT that he was having in high school. Hard to juggle school work and Spider-Man work, seeing friends and team meetings and coming up with lies to cover what the team meetings actually are, and he’s got MJ and Ned helping him with that too, and maybe he just shouldn’t make friends, maybe he shouldn’t try to get lab time or grants and why is he even trying to ask for a grant with Tony Stark in the room, isn’t that like a bad look, asking for money with a billionaire beside him, and he’s thinking too much, again, and it’s making his headache worse—

“Hey,” Tony says, and he pats his shoulder. “Earth to Peter.”

Peter just grunts.

“It’s fine, but you should have let me pick you up,” Tony says, raising his eyebrows at him. He says it gently, because he knows Peter is still agonizing over it.

“I know,” Peter says, with a sigh so heavy he feels it in his gut. “You just can never tell—and I was out of your way—and I know the trains aren’t reliable in the first place but I was out of your way—”

“Kid,” Tony says, narrowing his eyes at him. “You’re never out of my way. You could be in Jersey and you wouldn’t be out of my way. That sounds bad. It’s the phrasing—you are always in my way—no, you’re—listen, I can always pick you up. Wherever you are, I can get you, I can pick you up, it’s not a question. You know that.”

He doesn’t say you should know that because it’s not a matter of should, Peter does know, he does, and he doesn’t know why he’s always banging up against it.

He just has a hard time letting people help him. Even though he needs a lot of help almost always.

“You do know that, correct?” Tony asks, as they make a beeline for the elevator. “You haven’t been mind-wiped in the interim—what is the interim, I saw you yesterday, last night, a mere matter of hours—”

“No,” Peter says, blowing out a breath, and he presses the down button to call the elevator. “No. No. Unless there were hidden spells in the calc homework to mind-wipe me by some hidden spell villain then no, I am—my brain is—my mind is intact.” He sighs again. Sometimes he just…talks too much.

The elevator arrives, and they get on it, and Tony is giving him this look. And he holds the look and keeps giving it, and Peter’s known Tony long enough to know that look. It isn’t disappointed, he’s more—regarding him. He knows the way Peter works, why he does the things he does, but he’s always gonna look at him and wonder when the other shoe is gonna drop. If he’ll ever just take charity—if he’ll ever stop thinking of it as charity and just something family does—

Because that’s what they are. Peter knows that. They’re family.

He didn’t accept that at first, either, and May’s little asides about how much she distrusted Tony didn’t help. But Tony started coming around a lot more often after all of the Vulture stuff, and they started having dinner together every Tuesday, and then that turned into dinner with Tony and May every Friday, and then that turned into lunch with Tony and MJ and Ned after school on Wednesdays, and soon enough Peter was at the new facility almost every weekend. And then May warmed up to Tony and then Peter and Tony started working in the workshop together and then the whole end of the world thing happened and Tony almost died—and Tony almost dying reminded Peter so much of Ben actually dying that he latched on like a tiny duckling and didn’t let go. And he gets embarrassed by a lot of things that he does but he’s not embarrassed of that, or of any of the time he spent by Tony’s bedside while he recovered. He remembers the crosswords, the sci-fi marathons, the two of them working on his MIT essay together. The long talks about anything and everything. Recovery. For both of them.

“You’re gonna get it,” Tony says, and he pats Peter’s shoulder again. “I looked at some of the other applicants and yours has the best optics—”

“Oh great,” Peter laughs. “Optics.”

“—and the best follow-through possibilities, helps pave your way, I’m attached to it, Rhodey’s on the backup—and he ate all those muffins within about thirty minutes, by the way, he still has to message you but they got him all hypnotized—”

Peter laughs again, and that brightens him up a little bit. “Oh good, I was worried because he didn’t say anything—”

“Oh no, that was the best thank you gift you could have gotten him—gone so quick he thought he blacked out—and there’s someone else who should be worrying about his waistline—”

Peter snorts again, shaking his head. The elevator dings and they walk out, heading through a busy atrium.

Tony slings an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “Stop thinking about the train,” he says. “It went well, it’s over now, let’s go to the Burger Company, huh? I can go for a good Killer Bee.”

Peter nods, wincing against the sun when they step out into it. But he immediately starts feeling more optimistic when he thinks about food. “Oh yeah,” he says. “Oh, the green monstah. Oh yeah.”

“I know Bruce still wants to get that copyrighted,” Tony says, as they veer towards the car.

“Just get him to make an appearance and they’ll add his name to it,” Peter says.

“Lunch next week,” Tony says. “I’ll get all of us in there. That’ll do it.”

And Peter hopes he’s invited to that, but he doesn’t say anything. They’ll be in Boston, he probably will be, but he’s not gonna say anything—and maybe that’s just the headache and the negativity talking—thinking—

Whatever. He stops thinking. He becomes full hamburger.

And they get in the car, so much better than the train, and Tony laughs and praises the way Peter laid out his proposal, his usage of the phrase polymerase chain reaction, and Peter tries so hard to turn his brain off. Tries to remain hamburger.

Fails to turn his brain off. Fails hamburger.

He thinks about all the work that’s gonna be on his plate if they do accept the proposal and give him the lab time and he’s thinking about that and he tries not to think about that. He tries not to rethink the things he does or plans to do a million times but then he winds up overthinking his overthinking. Thinks and thinks and thinks in a torrential tornado.

And the headache gets worse.

“Why do you always park in the same place when you park in these garages?” Peter asks, watching Tony maneuver to the second floor from the top of the parking garage closest to the burger place. “Is it like, specifically to piss Happy off? Because he prefers to be on the roof?”

Tony snorts, approaching the same spot he always parks in when they come here. Second to top floor, right back corner. Might as well have his name on it.

“I am a creature of habit in most things,” Tony says, letting the car pull into the spot on its own.

“I feel like that’s wrong,” Peter says, narrowing his eyes at him.

Tony clicks his tongue. “I am and I’m not,” he says, putting the car in park once it’s situated. “But yes. This has to do with Happy. An argument with Happy going on ten plus years ago and I’m so set in my point of view that I’ll just do what he doesn’t want me to do even if he isn’t with me. He checks the logs sometimes. That’s enough.”

Peter snorts, getting out of the car once Tony cuts the engine. “Yeah, okay,” Peter says, shutting the door. “Didn’t you guys also have some sort of grudge match over—”

“My Little Pony,” Tony says, with a withered sigh. “We’re not getting into that. It’s too complicated.”

Peter laughs to himself, shaking his head. He tries to imagine telling his past self that Iron Man was having debates with his bodyguard about parking spaces and My Little Pony, and, putting aside any space-time traveling he’d have to do to speak to his past self, he feels like he’d break Little Peter’s brain by saying My Little Pony and Iron Man in the same sentence. Also putting aside the whole ‘you’re good buddies with Iron Man’ thing.

And Peter gets his feeling.

That feeling that he gets, it takes hold of him, full body. Death grip.

The sort of high-pitched alarm in his head, goosebumps along his arms, his heart honing in on something he doesn’t know about yet—just the presence of it, the incoming, a bad possibility. And it mixes around in his mind like bubbles in a glass, and he winces and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“What?” Tony asks, concern rising in his voice, and he’s already halfway across the lot, close to the elevator they have to take down. “What, you okay—”

“Yeah,” Peter says, quickly massaging his thumbs into his forehead. “I’ve just, I’ve—all the worrying and stuff has just given me a really bad—”

And the ground gives way under his feet.

He doesn’t have a second to think about it, because the cement is collapsing and the upper floor is folding on top of them in big, broken-up pieces, and he hears the explosions and he can’t tell how far away they are or what the hell is happening and he doesn’t have his webshooters he doesn’t have his suit he doesn’t have anything, and Tony was too far ahead of him, he wasn’t right next to him he was a few feet away which is too far now it’s too far, and there’s already dust and debris and Peter can’t even see him anymore—but before it all comes crashing down he sees the glint of Tony’s watch—

And his brain isn’t working properly and it’s all happening too fast and he sees the glint of the watch and a flash of Tony’s face and Peter feels the dust coming and the heaviness bearing down, and while he still has room he grabs the back of the nearest car and he doesn’t know if it’s Tony’s car or not but he grabs and yanks and tosses in Tony’s direction, hoping he shields him and doesn't hit him, and then a big piece of cement is knocking into the back of Peter’s—

A wire pulled. Abrupt. Silence.

It’s dark. Dark.

Peter’s been in this situation way too many times.

Floating in the—dark in the pillow of his head in the dips of his mind while some—crazy villain asshole laughs and makes speeches and why make speeches when he’s in between knocked out and knocked in—can’t even hear it—can’t even quip back—half the fun of fighting with Spider-Man is the back and forth—

Floating, aching in the way where there’s a voodoo doll of him somewhere in the world, and someone is twisting it and stabbing it and stepping on it and pressing it underneath hot coals—

And he was thinking about luck—spidey luck—Parker luck—bad luck—lack of luck at all—what happened what happened what battle was in who was out to get him who blew him up—

He can feel himself wincing even though he doesn’t feel like he’s inside his body anymore—pancaked—and not in the sugar-coated way not in the dough way he’s far too solid for that—solid and bending and breaking in ways he’s not supposed to—

And worse yet he’s used to it—not surprised by it—hurting and pain but in the here we are again way—

And a pang of panic cuts through him because there might be—there probably are other—other people—other people in danger and he’s—he’s not—he’s—not ready no suit no webs trapped—

“Pete. Pete.”

He hears it above all the other muffled sounds.

A groan, a cough, they go with the voice, familiar voice, and Peter tries to get focused again he tries to get back into his brain but he sees his body floating in the darkness like a starfish in the air all four limbs akimbo and he’s spinning like a rotisserie chicken and he focuses on that for a long drawn-out moment and he starts to fade again—heavier and liquidy and starfish and white noise eating at him like old paper in an ancient attic—

“Peter. Pete, listen—buddy, focus—Christ, Jesus—Pete, you hear me right—”

Tony’s voice.

He was with Tony.

They were going to get burgers.

No battle just burgers just burgers and talking and My Little Pony and specific parking spots and the sudden sense of doom and explosion and what the fuck what the fuck why why what happened—

Peter plummets back into his body, like falling from a stupid donut spaceship into the shell of the earth and he lands back inside his own body and he lands hard and then there’s all the hurt, all of it, the hurt multiplying and pressure and pressure and pressure and—

The memory. Toomes. All of it on top of him and he was buried there, buried alive—

That memory tries to eat him.

He knows he got out back then he knows he did he got out he got himself out but it’s still a swamp in his head a swamp where he drowns where he drowns in the memory of it dragged down bogged down—years ago but still fresh like it was moments ago just moments but now this moment is that moment now—

Blood on the back of his head—

Concentrate—

“Peter,” Tony’s voice says, and it’s raspy, and he sounds like he’s hurt, and that makes Peter focus.

He opens his eyes. He’s smashed against the corner of some broken cement and he can feel the blood on the back of his head and he remembers the spidey sense the stupid tingle and it wasn’t the headache he should have known it wasn’t the headache and now it’s the headache and the results of an explosion and he’s pinned and smashed together on all sides and Tony—

Peter groans, trying to shift. “Tony—are you—are you okay—”

Peter can hear everything. The debris shifting and falling in on them and the sounds of his bones creaking and his breath coming in short bursts—

And Tony coughs. “Uh—let’s put a—pin in that—what about you—”

“Um, bad. I mean peachy.” Peter groans again. “Why did this—why—”

“Don’t know,” Tony grunts. “Friday says there were three more—three other people in here at the time of the—explosion, whatever the hell happened, they’re trapped too but they’re—not dead, not—sort of dire, it’s—Christ, goddamn explosion, Friday’s still—Jesus—” He starts coughing, and it doesn’t sound good. It sounds sick and bloody and Peter doesn’t know what the hell is going on.

He’s gotta get him out. Gotta get him and the others out. Gotta get—gotta—

But he’s trapped too, he’s trapped—

He tries to shift, and the weight is bearing down, and—

I’m down here, I’m down here—help—

He squeezes his eyes shut tight.

The memory tries to seep into his pores.

“Gonna be late for lunch,” Peter groans, trying to get his hands under him, trying to brace. He can barely see anything, there’s too much dust, too much shit everywhere. He grits his teeth, barely has his hands under him, but he pushes and tries. Focus focus focus.

“Pete, stop—stop—you’re not a good position—there’s a suit on the way—”

“Can—can you—can you see me—” He collapses back down again. He tries to breathe, but he’s pressed up against the ground—sandwiched between cement and cement and some car parts, a pipe somewhere, he can feel it sticking into his back—

“I can—I can see you, Pete, you’re—”

Peter is getting antsy now. He squeezes his eyes shut, tries to shimmy a little to his left, not even knowing if that’s the right fucking way to go, and Tony sounds close and far at the same time.

This definitely isn’t just structural damage, or faulty wiring, or anything like that—they park in this one a lot and Peter doesn’t even think it’s that old, so this is definitely an attack and people don’t know he’s Spider-Man so this is probably an attack on Tony and their plans were in flux today because they didn’t decide where they were gonna go after the meeting and he was late to the meeting so whatever this is couldn’t have been planted here unless the person was just waiting for them, or it could be some other shit some completely unrelated shit and his thoughts are up and down like a radio station that’s going out as they cross over the state line—

And he can’t shimmy, he can’t, he can barely get his hands under him to push, and when he moves his right arm it gets caught against a jagged edge of something and it’s cutting into his skin and he can’t move it back, and every breath is short and uneasy because he’s pressed down on either side, chest and back, and he squeezes his eyes shut tight.

“Okay,” he breathes, and he breathes out and he can’t get another breath in. “Okay, uh—uh—uh—did the car part I threw—I didn’t—I didn’t hit you—hit you, right—”

“No, it’s—I don’t know how the hell you did it but it’s right on top of me, it’s—it gave me room to move, it—it stopped anything from hitting me in the goddamn head, kid, thank you—”

“Good, good,” Peter breathes, hardly breathes, and he feels dizzy and he has to focus, he has to focus. He can hear Tony’s heart beating and it’s never great, considering everything his heart has been through in his life, but it worries him anyway—and Peter has to—he has to get him out—

He can’t hardly see anything—just blurry shapes, dust, broken things, more dust—

“Okay,” Peter grunts, trying not to gasp, because his chest can’t expand properly. “Okay, I gotta—I gotta get out of here—”

“Pete, I can’t—I can’t get to you, I’m trying, I can’t get—I just need you to relax, a suit is coming—”

And Peter knows that as soon as Tony’s inside the suit, he’s gonna get Peter out, and that’s gonna make Peter feel like shit, like the new hero that still needs help, just like he was in the beginning, when Tony first found him, and he’s past that, he’s way past that, and there are civilians in here trapped and soon there are gonna be other civilians in here trapped because there are always people off the street that think they can run in and fix things and help and usually they can’t, and a lot of the time the police come in and need help too, and Peter knows Tony will save him first and he can’t even help once he’s free because he’s stupid and he was running late before the train made him later and he doesn’t even have anything in his backpack so there’s no way he could even change and show up as Spider-Man and help, and worst case scenario Tony would dig him out and then the garage would collapse worse than it already has and kill the other people trapped in here or more explosions would go off and—

“Peter. Peter, hey. Hey.”

And Peter must have sounded distressed or something and he can feel the cut on his arm churning out blood and his breath is thready and he can’t move. He really can’t move.

“Okay,” he whispers, his voice strained. He tries to plan, he tries to—he’s gotta get in a good position and then he has to brace on his knee somehow and then he can lift but he has to be careful because Tony’s in here and there are other people in here–

“Pete, bud, you have to—you gotta relax, okay? Stop, it’s—it’s not all up to you, you’re—you’re not in a good spot, listen to me, you don’t have to—”

“Gotta get you out,” Peter says, and every word is drawn a mile out of his mouth, like sludge, and he’s getting dizzy. “You’re older this isn’t good for you—” He tries to say it all at once because maybe that’ll help but it doesn’t help, and he squeezes his eyes shut tight again.

Gasp, gasping—

The world spins and sparks in the dark. The dark, trying to lasso him, trying to drag him down.

“That argument is getting old, young buck,” Tony says. “Friday—Friday says suit’s almost here, it’s gonna be alright, just don’t—don’t move, I can hear you’re—having trouble breathing, Pete, you saved me from having to deal with that with your—quick thinking, so c’mon, listen to me now, let me help you, just focus on my voice—”

Peter wants to focus, but he’s getting so goddamn light-headed and he feels like the debris and dust is in his nose and he knows it’s in his eyes and he can taste it and the way he’s pinned he can’t even rub his eyes, and he’s too highly aware of the blood dripping, slipping down his arm—

“When the suit gets here don’t get me first,” Peter blurts out, and he doesn’t even mean to string the words together but he does, anyway, and they come out half-garbled, almost unintelligible. “Don’t, okay? Get yourself—yourself out, and then the civilians, and then—then me—”

“Peter…”

Peter tries to glance around, as much as he can—he bumps his chin on the cement, scrapes it, squints over in Tony’s direction—he can sort of see the back of the car he threw, greenish in color and covered in dust, and uneven planks of cement stacked like jenga blocks, and Peter blinks and the whole place turns over—

“The building isn’t moving, right?” he says, or he thinks he says it. Short breaths.

“No, Pete, just—stop talking, just relax, alright? Friday, are we incoming—”

Peter shouts, all squeaky. “Friday, send me a Spidey suit—a Spidey suit too—”

But he doesn’t even know how well his iron spider suit would hold up under this pressure. And he feels dizzier and dizzier and stupider with each passing second, and he tries to shift again. He’s gotta get out of here, he isn’t some random person going about his day he’s Spider-Man, and even if he doesn’t have his suit he’s extra strong he knows this he’s learned this lesson—he’s—he’s in the same position he was in when he learned this lesson and his chest feels like it’s caving in—

“Pete, relax, I’m—I’m getting you out—”

Peter swallows hard. “No, you gotta—once you get the suit you gotta prioritize—”

And then he hears it—the rush of something, like a cannon—tinkling robotic noises that take precedence in Peter’s mind over the shifting of the debris and the stuttering, panicky start-stop of Tony’s heart. And Peter lets out a sigh that squashes him more against the cement that’s sandwiching him in place, because the suit is here and Tony’s gonna be wearing it soon, the dual relief of Iron Man’s appearance and Tony’s safety. Peter knows he’s in a worse position than him right now, but Tony almost died before, in front of Peter’s eyes and followed by a long, languishing stay in the med bay, so Peter always puts Tony first, in his head.

He can’t lose him. He can’t. Not like Ben. Not when he has the power and strength to prevent it. No way.

“Okay,” Peter breathes, but then—

The suit pieces break into the spot where Peter is, wedging themselves between the concrete with tenacity, letting out little tiny bursts to fit better and form themselves around Peter—

“What?” Peter yells, hardly able to find the breath to do it. “Tony? No, no, not—not me—” And he gasps, the suit pieces continuing to make room, continuing to encase him—

“Pete, come on—” Tony says, and Peter squints over in that direction, and he can sort of see his eyes, he thinks, his hand outstretched.

“No, no,” Peter breathes, flushed with anger, and the suit forms and forms and blasts away the cement succinctly, building its chest plate. “No, Tony, you have to—you, you first, not me—”

Peter thinks he can see him shaking his head. “Kid, you’re more important—”

“No,” Peter yells, better now because he has more room to yell. “No, no, is there another one coming for you—”

“This was—the closest one I had, in a Boston safehouse, it’s from—way back around the time of the Mandarin situation—just get to safety, Peter, Christ, I need you safe—”

“Tony!” Peter yells again, his whole body on fire with pain and frustration, and sure, he’ll get to safety alright, once he gets Tony and the others out, and they still don’t even know what the hell is going on here but Peter is too insane now to even think straight—

And the suit forms completely, finally forms a helmet and a HUD comes to life—

And before Peter can even process it or say anything or yell out in red-faced anger again, he’s blasting out of there through one of the holes in the side of the garage, cement crumbling down into the space where he was trapped moments before.

And he’s flying away because there’s already a loaded trajectory in the goddamn suit he’s flying away—

And it’s giving him oxygen and it’s treating the wound on his arm and it seems like it’s working on repairing his hurts and getting him out of there at the same time—

But no, no way, no way he’s leaving Tony behind, stuck in an exploded fucking garage when some bad guy most likely fucking exploded it trying to get Iron Man—is he insane is he insane—

“Friday, Friday, where are we going? Where are we going?”

“Mr. Stark told me to take you to the compound, Peter, for medical attention,” Friday says. “SWAT teams and Boston police are on their way to—”

“Nope, nope, turn around,” Peter says, breathing in deeply. “Turn around. Turn this car around.” All he sees is open air and the opposite fucking direction of where he should be. “Friday.”

“I’m sorry, Peter, but Mr. Stark told me to get you to safety no matter what you said—”

When the hell did he have time to say all of that when Peter was passed out or did he just not hear him—

“Oh my God,” Peter grunts. “No. Are there—is there another suit coming for him? Is one on the way to get him?”

“I have nothing else in the air—”

“That makes no sense, Friday, he can’t get out, why would he do—you’ve gotta be wrong, you must be—it doesn’t make sense, why would he just save me and send me away and—is he just waiting for the cops, but—but—”

He knows he was not in a good place when the garage exploded, and he was pinned badly and flashing back to that moment in his life when he felt small and trapped and that didn’t help and he was all dizzy and lightheaded and shit, and that—did that just make Tony panic? Seeing him like that? Did that make him pick him above everything else?

Peter feels sick.

“No, nope,” Peter says, breathing and breathing because it was so hard to breathe before but now he’s got all the air in the world, and Tony is back there in the collapsed garage in a compromised position and there are civilians too and the bad guy could be anywhere and they don’t even know who the bad guy is and there might not be one but there probably is there’s probably more than one—

And Peter needs to get back there—

“Friday, uh, override—”

“Mr. Stark told me not to listen to any of your attempts to override—”

“Well, uh, he’s annoying, and also you have to listen to me right now because I’m driving—”

“Technically, I’m driving,” Friday says.

Peter tries to think. He knows he knows there are ways around Tony’s stupid controls, he knows he’s been in the room with Tony and Happy when they’ve put new protocols in and he knows he slipped some in there because he can’t trust Tony to protect himself ever, so he has to try and do it if he can, and he knows Happy saw him programming things and didn’t say anything because he worries about Tony too, they all worry about Tony, and they can’t all keep Peter as the priority just because he’s the youngest member of the team. That doesn’t make any sense, he’s stronger than half of them without his suit on so it doesn’t make any sense—

—and he’s just flying further and further away and he feels like he’s about to start panicking and freaking out worse than he already is and it’s like the suit can sense that of course it can it has access to his heart rate and his brain waves and—

He tries to think—what did he name them to make Tony think it was something he himself did and not something Peter slipped in there—

“Oh, uh, oh Peter P and the Gang—uh��what the hell did I call it, uh—Peter is in Distress Protocol, uh—what the hell is that song he likes oh my God—for those about to—wait, uh, Friday—Peter P, We Salute You protocol—that’s it, right? I enact that, I—that’s what I want, punch it in.”

“You would like to enact the Peter P, We Salute You protocol?”

He feels insane, because he’s just getting further and further away, and just having a super casual conversation with Tony’s AI.

“Yes,” Peter says. “Yes, that puts me in control, right? I’m in charge?”

“Yes, this protocol puts you in charge, because everyone else present has been compromised, and you have the ability to divert all other active heroes to the location of your choice,” Friday says.

“Oh wow,” Peter says. “Um. Hold on that, but uh, put me back in control of this suit and send another suit for Tony, no matter how far away it is, just send it on double speed, uh, double time—” And he needs to store some of his iron spider suits closer to where he lives now, God he’s so stupid—

“Peter P, We Salute You protocol has been enabled,” Friday says, and Peter unceremoniously drops out of the sky.

“Oh shit,” Peter says, flailing in the air. “Thrust—thrusters on—Friday, just help me fly over there, please, back to where Tony is—”

“Yes, Peter,” Friday says, and he watches the thrusters rise up on his feet and hands, and he turns around and zooms in that direction.

He hasn’t been in an Iron Man suit in a very long time. There was just the once, a couple years ago, when Tony sent it to him so he could hold up that falling train better, but that was only for a couple minutes and he was out of it again—

—and he swings all the time, sure, but this is flying, and it would be a lot more fun if the situation wasn’t so shitty—

And the garage is in sight and Peter can see the incoming police cars, still not close enough—

“Friday, can you scan for—um, okay, scan for the civilians in there and scan for Tony and scan for threats. And put all the results on the board—the screen. For me to see.” He swallows hard, feeling stupid, but he knows Tony’s suits are super intuitive so he tries not to show his feelings or feel them too hard.

“Got it,” Friday says. And she very subtly notes Peter’s heart rate in the corner of the screen, along with his own injuries and stats.

Peter raises his eyebrows. “Oh, I’m concussed too, okay, that—that makes sense,” he says, remembering his headache. He doesn’t see any bad guys yet in Friday’s scan, and the three civilians are still there, but one is crawling out. “They’re good, right? Those guys? They’re not dying?”

“No, the worst injury between the three of them is a broken leg,” Friday says. “They were on their way out of the garage when the blast occurred. But there are millions of dollars in other damages.”

“Figured,” Peter says. He dips down a little bit, and flies back up. Trying to get used to it. “Friday, connect me to Tony’s personal line where he was talking to you and setting up his little rescue mission here.”

“Connecting,” Friday says.

And it only rings once before Tony is picking up.

And he sounds pissed. “I see you—what the hell are you doing, why are you heading back here? How the hell did you—Pete, I sent you out of here to keep you safe, to get you better—”

Peter realizes he’s incoming faster than he may have intended and he probably didn’t need to be on the phone with him, because he’s swooping into the hole he left through, arriving quickly to start pulling debris away from where Tony is. “I don’t need to get better I need you,” Peter says, before he even really realizes he’s saying it.

Tony shakes his head at him incredulously.

Friday pipes in. “I will keep you informed of which pieces of debris should not be removed because moving them would cause more destruct—”

“Okay, okay,” Peter says, and he’s trying to be careful but his head is pounding worse now. And Tony is squinting up at him and he looks purely pissed off, but Peter doesn’t care.

“I sent you home,” Tony says, grimacing and trying to get himself out, now that Peter is here in the suit trying to do it. “I sent you away from the danger—”

“You had no right to do that,” Peter says, and he aims the repulsor at one of the bigger blocks of cement and blows it up. And maybe he did it with a little too much power because the pieces go everywhere and Friday lights it up red as the pieces fall back down like chunks of hail. Peter rushes forward and shields Tony from them, and gets bonked in the head for his own stupidity.

“I had every right,” Tony says, glaring at him when Peter steps back again and keeps trying to dig him out. “You’re young, you’re a kid—”

“I’m not a kid I’m gonna be twenty in six months—”

“That’s still a kid and either way you’re too goddamn important to me to let you lay there fucking suffering under piles of cement you couldn’t move because you couldn’t breathe because you were flashing back to what that goddamn asshole Toomes did to you—”

And Peter stops, and stares at him, and he’s getting teary-eyed.

“What?” Tony asks, cutting himself off. “I can’t see your face in there. All I see is me looking back at me.”

“That’s what I gotta deal with all the time,” Peter says, and he sniffles, and he shakes his head. “Lemme just get you out of here and get you out of the danger—”

He hears the sirens getting closer.

“Yeah and you were telling me if the suit was coming for me that I was supposed to go get the civilians first—do you remember saying that, because I remember you saying that, and I’m noticing you doing the exact same thing that you told me not to do—getting me out first—”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peter says, and he blasts away another one of the pieces of debris that Friday has lit up green. He can’t acknowledge that right now. Or ever. And it doesn’t matter. He would have gotten himself out eventually if he would have just relaxed because he’s got superhuman strength. Tony has a superhuman brain but a normal person body. “And those dudes down there are probably like—Ben Affleck and Matt Damon and one of their friends, they’re fine—”

“Didn’t know we had such a high opinion of Ben Affleck and Matt Damon—”

Peter sees his opening, sees Tony’s legs come free when he moves another piece of cement, and he’s got his opportunity. He latches onto his arm and hauls him out, tugging him away from the debris clattering down. “I’m keeping an eye, it’s okay, I’ll go get them in a second, and I’ll get you an autograph if it’s them—”

“I already got their autograph,” Tony says, holding onto Peter’s iron arm to keep steady. “I put it up at the Christmas charity auction two years back, you need to keep up—”

And Peter gets that sharp sense again, that feeling, the tingle at the back of his neck and in his stomach and inside the storm in his head, and he doesn’t waste time doubting it this time around—he pushes Tony out of the way as gently as he can and starts racing towards it, that feeling, and then he’s hit with an explosion head-on that sends him flying out into the open air.

Alarms go off in his head and on the screen, and he’s on fire and the suit is trying to put it out and he regains control of the thrusters and flies up higher, trying to see straight. That one was smaller but it hit him head on, and he’s glancing around and trying to see where the hell it came from and what the fuck is happening, and his head is pounding even worse now, and the feeling the sense is dragging him one way but he looks down and—he has to make sure Tony is okay he has to—and he realizes their phone call is still connected because—

“Pete, I’m okay, I’m okay, get the hell out of here, I think they’re targeting me which means they’re targeting you because they think I’m in the suit—”

And that’s what Peter thought earlier, but now he knows it, and he’s gotta get Tony out of sight so whoever this is doesn’t realize what’s going on—

And his brain is working on overdrive, and he knows where this guy is because his whole body is pulling him to his left, in that direction—

And he flies back down, weaving around in the ruined garage, and he grabs Tony, flying away with him—

“What are you doing, Peter, goddamnit—” His hands scramble, trying to hold on.

Peter feels insane in this suit but he clutches at him, can’t drop him, can’t drop him. “Get the civilians out if you can and help out the cops and put a bag over your head or something but cut a hole in it so you can still breathe but—”

And Peter flies down and around, sets him down on the ground close to the location of the civilians, and he flies away before he’s really done talking to him because the suit is following his heart and his brain waves and maybe that’s not great, but anyway—

“Peter, Peter, just fly away, fly away, go stealth so he doesn’t see you—”

“Friday, scan for this guy—”

“You’re on the right path,” Friday says, and Peter sees him on the roof two blocks out, he’s headed right for him—Friday scans him, lights him up, and he’s some guy in tactical gear and a mask, and he’s alone, and what the hell—

“He must have been following us—Friday, disguise my voice make it sound like Tony’s—”

“Pete, goddamnit, no—”

But Peter is fully in his insane brain now. He thinks about Uncle Ben, the last time he smiled at him, those last moments and all the years after. He thinks about what he thought were Tony’s last moments, his wheezing breaths, and the slow and sure recovery. He thinks about every moment they’ve spent together and how Tony tried to save him today, how he said Peter was too important and he couldn’t see him suffering like that and he tried to save him and get him out of the line of danger, and he thinks about luck and bad luck and all the silly shit he was agonizing over before all of this happened, and he doesn’t feel so unlucky when he thinks about how much Tony cares about him.

And he has no idea what he’s doing but he gets Friday to hone in on this guy and he flies in and gets him with a side kick as if he’s swinging, even though he’s not, and he knocks him to the ground. Peter lands too, rushes after him and holds up both repulsors.

“Peter stop, stop—”

“Mute!” Peter says, and he can’t hear Tony anymore.

And the guy on the ground isn’t wearing his mask—

And he’s…a kid. A kid like Peter.

A kid Peter might even recognize.

“What the hell are you doing?” Peter yells, and he can hear his own voice coming out sounding like Tony’s. “Don’t you go to MIT?”

“You’d know!” the kid yells, scooting backwards. “You’re always there, specifically helping that Parker kid, making sure he’s got every opportunity while all the rest of us—”

Peter’s brain is exploding. “Are you literally kidding me? That’s why you’re targeting Tony and throwing bombs—why the hell are you doing this? You’re ruining your whole future—”

The kid looks at him, confused. “You said—targeting Tony—that’s not you, is it? That’s not Tony Stark in there—is that—are you the Parker kid in there? He put you in the suit to protect you, didn’t he? Jesus Christ—”

Peter bends down and nearly jumps down this kid’s throat. “Listen, you’re crazy, and—and—and—” He stutters, and doesn’t know what the hell to say.

So he just starts. Talking. “Yeah, it is me, and just because he’s helping me—Tony Stark is a family—for your information, he’s my biological father, and yes that’s a secret, and it’s not your business anyway, but now you know, and if your dad was Iron Man I’m sure he’d be helping you too, Tony has a very colorful past and I’m sure I’ve got other brothers and sisters and siblings running around out there, okay, but either way it’s not your business to be throwing bombs—where did you even get—did you make these on campus—”

“No,” the kid stammers, “that Shocker guy who hates Spider-Man helped me—”

“Oh my God,” Peter says, hanging his head. “Of all people—”

“Tony Stark is really your dad?” the kid asks.

And it hits Peter that he actually did say that. That’s the—that’s the thing he said. The hill he chose to die on.

His head hurts.

“Yes,” he says, because…whatever. “And he’s got multiple scholarship options that are super easy to apply for and get, and tons of—programs, with grant opportunities—how do you not know that? How do you get to the bomb-throwing level of crazy not knowing that?”

“I don’t know,” the kid says, and his eyes go a little glazed. “Everything else is—it’s so hard sometimes it’s so hard to stay on top and I see you around campus and he’s always there helping you but now I—now I know, I’m—Jesus, I’m so sorry, I—oh my God I blew up—did I kill anybody, did I—”

“No, thank God,” Peter says, stepping back, and he gets a notification on the screen that the police are on their way up the building. “The cops are coming. You really—you’re gonna need a good lawyer here, man, but we’ll—this isn’t great but I’ll talk to Tony—I’ll talk to my dad and we’ll—help you out, okay?”

He feels insane, this feels insane, like a canceled video game offshoot plotline, and he feels bad about this kid but he’s also pissed off about it and it’s annoying that the only reason he’s accepting it is because he thinks Peter is Tony’s secret lovechild.

So Peter simply flies away. He puts all the thrusters on minimum thrust and sort of drifts away over to where Tony is, next to the newly arrived ambulance and the three civilians, who aren’t Matt Damon and Ben Affleck and their friend, but they kinda look like them.

And Tony is talking up at him but he’s still muted inside the helmet but Peter can kind of hear him when he gets close enough.

“Kid. Kid. Dammit, I know you’re—you’re looking right at me, I can tell with the eyes. Kid. I swear to God—”

And Peter lands next to him, and Tony’s eyebrows are raised so high into his forehead that it looks like they’re ready to fly off.

“Friday can you let me out of the suit please?” Peter says, the words all strung together. He feels defeated, even though the both of them are still standing.

“Yes, Peter,” Friday says. “Captain America, Captain Marvel, Falcon, James Barnes, the Black Widow, and Doctor Strange have all been informed you need backup at this location. Should I tell them to stand down?”

“Oh, yeah,” Peter says. “They can—they can stand down.” The suit opens up then, and slowly starts chipping away until it becomes a little hovering thing, flying beside them.

Tony’s anger seems to simmer down when he sees Peter’s face, and it’s replaced with his patented brand of concern. “Are you alright?” he asks, touching Peter’s arm. “The police showed up, right? Did they get him? Who was it?”

Peter lets out a big breath, leaning forward and bracing his forehead on Tony’s shoulder.

“You’re okay, right?” Tony asks, gripping the back of Peter’s neck.

“Um,” Peter says, because that feels like a loaded question.

“Okay, let’s go,” Tony says, before Peter can say anything else. “Let’s go, I’ll talk to the cops remotely, they’re used to that with me.”

“Civilians are good, right?” Peter asks, still just kind of…leaning there.

“You’d know better than me—Fri, you talking to me now? Am I back in?” Tony asks, he glances around, back at the ambulance, which is closed now. Peter can’t hear her answer, and Tony ruffles his hair. “Yeah, everybody’s alright. Stark team incoming to deal with the damages—quick, c’mon, Happy’s down the street. Let’s go before someone grabs us—he got us burgers.”

“Did he actually—” Peter starts, pulling back and looking up at him, dazed.

Tony nods, and starts pulling him along before any of the cops can notice.

Happy always has a full first-aid kit in his car when he comes to pick them up. Peter doesn’t know if it’s always there, or if he sets it up when he’s heard about them getting into something, or if he just expects them to need it for some reason, even if they’re just having an afternoon lunch. But either way, it’s here, and Tony snaps an ice pack and wraps a paper towel around it. He gently puts it in Peter’s hand, and presses Peter’s hand and the ice pack up against his forehead.

Peter sighs, closing his eyes, and he slumps back against the corner of the backseat.

“So what now?” Happy asks. “Is what I’m hearing—”

“What are you hearing?” Tony asks. “What’s floating down the grapevine? What’s hitting every grape on its way down?”

And Peter knows he doesn’t know what exactly went on, because Peter hasn’t told him yet, but his tone is in defense of Peter anyway. Peter knows that tone. And his heart soars and sinks with the sound of it.

“Well. Well. I wouldn’t exactly call it public knowledge, but I was casually—casually watching Friday’s live downloads—”

“So he knows everything,” Peter grunts, “because he was spying on me—”

“I wasn’t spying on you, I was spying on Tony, which is my actual occupation—”

“Not your occupation,” Tony says, and Peter pops one eye open to see Tony pointing in Happy’s direction. “Not your job—”

“It is—”

“It’s not—”

“—but I was watching, casually, and then I realize it’s you in there, like Home Alone or something—”

They go over a bump, and Peter’s head screeches with the pain of it. He’s annoyed about everything, annoyed about the entire situation and the aftermath and all of it, and particularly annoyed that this headache decided to dig a trench and stay a while.

“I heard there were burgers in this car,” Peter says, and his voice comes out less commanding than he was hoping and more whiny and babyish. And he sighs.

Tony reaches over and grips his shoulder.

“There are,” Happy says. “There are burgers, and fries, and onion rings. In the front seat up here with me, strapped in safe and sound—”

“Okay well, let’s uh, let’s get to work,” Peter says, and he tries to shift a little bit but he just melts downward, the seatbelt cutting into his throat.

Peter closes his eyes again, trying to focus on the ice pack.

Tony sighs, and Peter can feel him scoot closer, leaning in to adjust the seatbelt so it doesn’t bother Peter as much.

“No, we’re heading to the safe house to eat—”

Peter flares up, and he can’t even clock why before he’s talking. “Why are we going to a safe house, are you expecting a student uprising against me—”

Happy scoffs twice in quick succession. “No, lunatic, but we don’t live here and I don’t feel like stuffing into your little apartment while we try to eat and you’re over there falling apart—”

“Okay,” Tony says, a little louder. “Okay. Let’s—let’s—”

Peter pulls the ice pack down. “That bomber was a kid that goes to MIT with me and apparently sees me and you and you helping me out and he got so mad that he went crazy and decided to link up with Shocker of all people to make bombs to kill you and maybe me so you couldn’t help me anymore.” And he hits himself in the face with the ice pack trying to put it back on his forehead. And he pulls it down again immediately. “And worst of all I feel bad about it that I drove this kid—”

“No, no,” Tony says, shaking his head. “No. You didn’t drive anybody anything. You can feel bad, sure, and he can be envious and want what you’ve got, sure, but as soon as someone starts contacting known supervillains and resorting to murder, they’re no longer in the realm of a normal response.”

“Yeah,” Happy says, “that’s an overreaction, why are we even worrying about that? This kid is a supervillain in the making, Peter, or was, now that you were able to—talk to him, briefly, we’ll help him out with his legal case too, right Tony?”

“If Peter wants—”

“That’ll really get him back on our side—”

Peter groans.

“Hey, bud,” Tony says, and he’s resting his arm on the back of the seat and holding Peter’s shoulder. “I’ll stop helping you so publicly if you’re worried about it, but I’ll have to come in wearing like, a disguise, maybe a beard, maybe some blue contact lenses—”

Peter snorts, pressing the ice pack to his forehead hard. “I don’t want you to stop helping me, not really, it’s just like—I know I’m in a good position I know I am I’m so grateful for it—”

Happy scoffs. “You don’t need to go doing all that,” he says. “You’re Tony’s little favorite, everybody knows it—”

“Not helping,” Tony says.

“It’s not anybody’s business who Peter gets help from,” Happy says. “Maybe if they were little spider people too, maybe it would be different.”

“It’s more than that,” Tony says, and Peter sighs and opens his eyes from behind the ice pack. He can see the look on Tony’s face behind his own wrist.

“I know,” Peter says, cracking his jaw. “We’re family.”

Tony smiles softly at him, like he’s happy to hear him acknowledge it without a big fight. “Yeah,” Tony says. “We are.”

Peter sighs, embarrassment creeping up the back of his neck. “And I might have—I might have gone slightly insane—to be fair the whole thing was crazy and I was in the Iron Man suit which was crazy and the whole like being trapped and hurt and you being hurt and like this kid and everything—”

“What?” Tony asks, cocking his head.

“I told him you were my dad and that’s why you were helping me,” Peter says, fast, and his head pulses with the thrum of his mistakes. “I said that. I said that I was your illegitimate child and that’s why you were helping me and I said that you also probably have more illegitimate children—Happy stop laughing—”

But both Happy and Tony are laughing, and Tony is laughing so hard that he leans down and presses his forehead to Peter’s shoulder.

“I already knew, obviously, because I was watching,” Happy says, hysterically laughing, “but it was just—he said it was such conviction—”

Peter shakes his head, groaning again.

“Okay, okay, simmer down,” Tony says, “he has his headache, he’s concussed. We’ve been through yet another trauma—”

“Right, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Happy says, clearing his throat, still giggling. “We’re almost there. We’re almost there.”

Tony ruffles Peter’s hair. “You’re nice, you know that? You’re a kind, caring individual and you don’t deserve this bullshit. Don’t ever think somebody trying to kill either one of us is something you should feel bad about, Pete, that’s their shitty decision and no reason they can give is good enough.”

Happy pipes up. “Like you told him, Peter, there are programs and scholarships—”

“You told him that?” Tony asks.

“Yeah—”

“Good, because it’s true,” Tony scoffs. “Half the kids at MIT have me paying for them in some capacity. I didn’t even pay for you, you got your own way in with your own hard work and in this instance I wasn’t providing any money either, just support—goddamnit, I’m getting trapped by it too—Peter, there’s no saying shit to these people. Anyone who resorts to Murder can’t really be argued with.”

Peter lets out a big breath, nodding.

And then they’re all quiet for the next couple minutes, Happy turning into a residential area and Tony doing something on his phone. He does it all one-handed, because he keeps his left on Peter’s shoulder.

And they eventually park at a nice house, and Peter’s head isn’t pounding as much anymore.

“Gonna go check and make sure everything’s set up, stay here for a second,” Happy says, getting out and shutting the door.

And Tony sighs, and slips his phone back into his pocket.

“What were you doing?” Peter asks, bringing the ice pack down again.

“Getting Helen on for a virtual scan with you—I mean us—informing May and MJ and Ned what the hell is going on—getting this dumbass kid a lawyer—setting up a few more little programs and money pots for the students at MIT so you don’t have to feel bad about it—”

And Peter feels stupidly emotional, and he shakes his head. “I don’t feel bad, I—it was just, uh, crazy, and it made me feel weird and angry and my brain had already been knocked around a good amount so, uh, but I’m—I feel—I’m lucky. I know I’m lucky. I’m just really lucky to—have you, and I know that, and I think everybody knows that.”

Because none of the rest of it really matters, when he thinks about it. None of the dumb stuff. Because he has amazing friends and family. Because when he needs anything, Tony Stark is there for him. No matter what.

“And some people wanna blow me up for it,” Peter says, snorting. “Or you. Both of us. I don’t know what the hell he was trying to do.”

The two of them laugh, shaking their heads.

And it hits Peter, really. Nothing is simple, no, but it doesn’t have to be. Because Tony will help him navigate it.

And Tony smiles at him, and pats his cheek. “I’m lucky too, my dear, illegitimate child—”

Peter sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. “Listen—”

“I cannot wait to watch that footage—”

“You are making fun of someone with a concussion—”

“I am a concussed person, making fun of someone with a concussion, we are the same—”

The door flies open.

Happy is standing there, stony-faced. “Hey. No emotional moments til we get the burgers out and I’m sitting there too.”

Tony and Peter both scoff, and Tony takes a hold of Peter’s left arm, and Happy grabs his right.

“Alright,” Tony says, “c’mon, buddy, we got a green monstah waiting for you and the others are on their way. Careful there—”

And they both help him get out of the car, and Tony keeps an arm around his shoulders as they head inside.

“Hap,” Tony says, “we gotta look through the protocols. There are too many loopholes for this one to jump through. We’re not running a tight enough ship here.”

“Hey,” Peter says, shooting him a look, “we woulda had worse problems if I had just flown home like a loser—”

“You muted my call,” Tony says. “We need a protocol that you can never my mute my calls. It’s simple. Easy. Not allowed.”

“Okay,” Peter says, as they follow Happy into the house. “Then I need a protocol that requires Friday to scan our brains and choose the one that’s making the more rational decision at the time—”

“Wow, okay,” Happy says, glancing back at them. “So nothing’s ever gonna get done.”

And they keep arguing about it, and Peter smells the food in the kitchen, and he knows nothing is ever simple nothing is ever easy whether they say it is, whether they hope it is, whether they want that more than anything else. And Peter knows they just slipped away from another near-miss and there’s tons of work to be done and they’ll probably be doing it for the rest of their lives.

But he knows he’s lucky. He’s so, so lucky.

“Okay,” Happy declares. “Well— my first protocol—Peter has to meet all the other illegitimate Starks—his brothers and sisters—within One Month, or Tony isn’t allowed any more burgers until this is rectified. Friday, you hear me? Friday?”

#irondad #iron dad #irondad fic #tony stark #peter parker #iron man #spider-man #works by iron spider #marvel fic #this one was so fun and different #i will love these two til the end of time

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babybatscreationsv2 · 10 months

Text

Smoking in the Boys Room

Marvel | Peter Parker/Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers

The teachers don't care much what the boys get up to in the bathroom, leaving Peter at the mercy of three particularly cruel and horny classmates.

Warnings and tags below

Warnings/tags: gangbang, semi-public sex, cigarette kink, cigarette burns, drowning, piss kink, rough sex, spanking, crying, humiliation, dehumanization, forced orgasm

Peter's hands braced against the walls of the bathroom stall. He was bent at the waist, feet planted wide apart. His mouth was stuffed full with a tennis ball someone had stolen from the gym. Bucky's belt was wrapped around his head to keep him from spitting it out. He moaned, the sound wet and humiliating through the gag. Behind him, Bucky's dick stretched his ass open. He squeezed his hips and fucked him like he was trying to drill a hole through his stomach. He grunted with the force of it, putting his whole nearly two hundred pounds behind it. All Peter could do was hold on to avoid his head going into the toilet.

He was whimpering and teary-eyed by the time Bucky stopped. He didn't cum, didn't even seem close. Like he was fucking him just because he could and not for the pleasure of it.

"Who's next?" Bucky called. A bunch of guys laughed behind alerting Peter to just how many had joined them. The room was filling up with smoke. He could hear someone climb up on a bucket to open the narrow window.

Peter looked over his shoulder, wondering if they were done, but as soon as Bucky was out of the way Steve was in his place. He slapped his ass and shot him a grin. Two fingers went straight into his stretched open ass, curling to find his prostate.

Steve smirked when he moaned. "You're just a good hole, do you know that? The last one just cried the whole time. He ended up moving away. Can you believe that?"

Fingers still inside his ass, Steve lined up his cock and pushed in. Peter couldn't help moaning, spit bubbling around the tennis ball. Steve fucked him with his fingers pulling and stretching around the rim, holding him open.

Peter thought he might actually cum for once. The cruel stretching made him tingle down to his toes. His cock stiffened up against his belly. He wondered what they would do if he came. Probably find some way to humiliate him about it.

In the bathroom, boys chatted about classes and girlfriend and college plans like Peter was getting railed right in front of them. He could tell when Steve was getting close when he started smacking his ass, making his squeal. A particularly loud yelp made the older boy moan. Then he was pulling Peter back on his cock and cumming deep.

He pulled out with a sigh just to push in the cum that dripped out. "The cum dump's available," he declared.

"Dibs!" Peter heard Tony's voice call out. Eager hands grabbed his hips. "Aw, Rogers that's fucking gross. You got your jizz everywhere."

"Like you've never gone after me Tony."

"Whatever, I'll make it work. Let's clean you up." His cock went in all at once, making Peter choke on his own spit. Tony held his hips and kept him in place. He wasn't sure what he was doing until he felt it. Hot and the wrong consistency.

Peter looked over his shoulder at Tony. The other boy smirked around a cigarette. He pulled it out and blew the smoke in his face. "Just cleaning out the fuck hole. You don't mind right?" He flicked his cigarette dropping ash on Peter's bare back. Piss flowed from his cock inside him making him shudder in disgust. After way too long, Tony pulled out and took a step back.

"Let it out, we don't have all day, dear."

Peter relaxed and let the piss run out of his hole and down his legs. Tony wiped some of it off with Peter's discarded t-shirt. Enough to avoid getting it on his hands.

"There. Good as new." Tony stuck his dick back inside, thankfully slicked with lube. He fucked him just as roughly as anyone else with the added pain of using his back like an ash tray. Peter thought that was the worst of until a sharp hot pain made him scream. He couldn't even move to look, but he knew Tony's cigarette was against his ass. Not once, but three times before it was out and he dropped it on the floor.

"Hurry up I gotta take a piss," Bucky called from behind them.

"So do it then. No one's stopping you," Tony said.

Bucky laughed. He squeezed into the stall, pants already open. He'd softened up a bit since fucking Peter, but he knew they weren't going to let him leave until they'd all had enough, regardless. Bucky stood to one side of the toilet, dick in hand. Then he grabbed Peter by the hair and pulled his head down over the bowl. He screamed in protested, but it didn't do him any good. Bucky let loose a stream of piss that first hit him in the eye before running down his face, into his nose, before pouring into the toilet. Some of it slipped into his open mouth and gagged but there was no mercy for him. Bucky empty his bladder onto his face while Tony reamed his ass.

"Got it in your eyes huh? Let me help you clean up," Bucky purred. He pushed his head down further until it was over the toilet. Peter grabbed the porcelain but Bucky kept pushing him down. Tony grabbed his arms and pulled him behind his back while Bucky laughed. He could hear Steve laughing behind him now too. He pushed his head down into the dirty water and flushed, shooting water up his nose and into his already stuffed mouth. Peter thrashed, but he was completely pinned.

Bucky let him up before he could drown and slipped out of the stall like it was nothing. Peter spit and coughed but there wasn't anywhere for the water to go but down his throat. Tony must have enjoyed the display because he came quickly after that, burying it deep to replace the mess Steve had made.

Then Bucky was behind him again. He unhooked the belt around his head and Peter spit out the tennis ball.

"Please- stop," Peter gasped. Bucky yanked his head back by the hair.

"Don't start your fussin'. That's not what I took the gag out for. If you get on my nerves I'll make you clean the toilet with your tongue. Got it?"

Peter nodded, whimpering as his hair pulled.

"Good." He stuffed his cock into his now very sore and very abused hole. "Be a good bitch for me."

Peter clung to the stall once again. It rattled against its foundation. Bucky struck his thigh with the belt.

"Bark for me. Like a dog," he ordered. When he disobeyed, he pushed his head down towards the toilet. "Bark," he growled.

Peter barked, the sound like the yip of a small dog. The boys all laughed. "Keep going. You don't stop until I cum."

Peter barked some more, eyes locked on the threatening sight of the toilet in front of him. Each thrust of Bucky's hips rocked him towards it. A hand wrapped around his cock and he gasped. Bucky hit him with the belt.

"Kept barking," he warned.

Peter barked, humiliated all the more as his cock hardened. They stroked him quick, making it hard to breathe, but he barked with every breath too terrified not to obey. Bucky dumped his load, fucking it in deeper so it was hot and sticky in his guts. He pulled out but fingers immediately went in. Way too many fingers, pulling him open in all direction. Someone spit inside him and too his shame his cock throbbed.

"Keep barking, bitch. I want to see you get off on it," Bucky said, voice dripping with amusement.

Peter barked, mortified as someone stroked his prostate just the way he licked. He panted, barks growing weaker, less convincing, but no one corrected him. Then he came, ass stretched open, and barking like a dog. The boys laughed and jeered.

"Look at that. Told you I picked a good one," Tony said.

"Gotta clean the up the mess. Teachers don't mind what we get up to in here until we leave a mess," Steve said.

"Oh yeah." Bucky grabbed him by the hair again and dragged him down to the floor. "Lick it up, bitch."

"What- no-" He grunted as Bucky kicked him in the ribs. As he curled on the floor, Bucky's boot stepped down on the side of his face.

"Clean it. Up." He stared down at him, face cruel and unmoved.

Terrified, Peter turned over and licked the dirty floor. It tasted like dirt and piss underneath the taste of his cum. Bucky's hand in his hair made sure he got every drop of it.

"What about the piss everywhere?" Steve said.

"Class will be over soon," Tony said. "We'll dump a bucket of water on it, it'll run down the floor drain."

Bucky laughed. "Could have done that with the jizz too, but that's no fun."

"Bring him over here, I need an ash tray," Tony said.

Peter yelped as he was hauled up by his hair and dragged across the tile. Tony leaned against the bathroom sink. He looked down at him like he was a hundred feet tall.

"Open your mouth," he said.

Peter obeyed and Tony flicked the ashes from his cigarette onto his tongue. It was so much worse than he thought, but when he reached his hand down again, Peter obediently opened his mouth, too tired and afraid to disobey. He knelt beside them while they chatted like he wasn't there, just an ash try for Tony and then Bucky who lit one for himself.

When the bell rang, Peter closed his eyes, soaking up the sound of freedom until to gasp when a hand closed around his throat. He was lifted up and slammed against the wall. Bucky grinned, taking a drag from his cigarette. Tony stood beside him.

"You ain't done, sweetheart. Now hold still," Bucky said. He took the cigarette between his fingers and reached down.

"Please, please," Peter sobbed as Bucky's hand traveled down. He screamed as the lit head of his cigarette burned into his hip. As soon as it was down, there was Tony's in the opposite side.

Bucky let him go and fell onto the floor. "See ya next week," he laughed. The three of him left him alone to dress in a panic before someone could come in and find him.

#marvel #starker #winterspider #idek what steve/peters tag is that how much i care to write steve

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gretchensinister · 3 months

Note

FIX the baby !

This one is an MCU fanfic! I hated Avengers: Infinity War and everything I heard about Avengers: Endgame so much that I started writing a 'verse that fixed the Thanos Snap by making it so that it never happened because the way the MCU did the snap and then restored people had so many worldbuilding consequences!!! That were never addressed!!! And FUCK Tony Stark's post-snap baby, you just have to deal with that baby never existing.

I don't remember what the plot idea I had was now, but I think it was mostly about Stark undoing the snap so that it never happened and dealing with the surreal angst of being the only one who remembered it.

And then after 3.5 pages I was like, "No. Making the MCU good was someone else's job. I won't do it for them." So this is a WIP I can actually say is dead because the MCU Thanos shit was SO BAD.

***

Tony woke up in the stall of a public bathroom. Since his last thought was that he was dying, this was unexpected. He hadn’t even been dying in a public bathroom. He was wearing a Black Sabbath t-shirt and a comfortable old pair of jeans, which he also hadn’t been dying in. He had an absolutely massive headache, and the anchor point for his current suit ached on his chest, but other than that he felt physically fine.

He didn’t have his suit with him. Not the nano suit, not any of them. Okay. Fine. You can’t take it with you, as they said. Though he was pretty sure he wasn’t dead, if only for the fact that he was in too much pain for this to be heaven, too comfortable otherwise for it to be hell, and he’d eat the Mark 1 if Valhalla or whatever had plastic walled toilet stalls as part of the welcome.

He checked his pockets and found that they were completely empty. He hadn’t really expected anything else.

At least he had shoes on.

Tony shrugged and took a careful breath. He’d woken up in worse situations and worse equipped. At least now—he glanced at the toilet. It had instructions on how to use a water-saving flush in English and Spanish. So he was probably in the United States. Or maybe Mexico.

But how? He had been dying. He had wielded the Infinity Gauntlet, and—

His headache, which had been fading, as it turned out, returned with full force. He gagged, and pressed his head against the wall. Right. Whatever was going on, he wasn’t going to find the answer in a public toilet. He left the stall, keeping his head down to avoid the fluorescent lights as much as he could. The bathroom turned out to be a large one, and now that he was out of the stall he felt just connected enough to reality to start noticing things again, like the fact that most of the men passing through the bathroom had suitcases with them.

An airport? He was in an airport? Why? Again, why? His head pounded. Maybe this was some kind of afterlife. Maybe he’d go buy a ticket and it would tell him to go to terminal C, Hades departures. Except he didn’t even have two cents to pay the ferryman, much less enough to buy a plane ticket.

Unproductive thoughts. He was alive. He’d start there. He went to the sinks and washed his hands, then splashed some water on his face, because it seemed like the done thing. He stifled a laugh that he was sure wouldn’t sound sane. Sure. And get the smelling salts, too.

Fuck, but this bathroom was busy. A convention of piss, held in an airport. His reflection told him that someone was bound to recognize him soon, and he didn’t want that to happen in a bathroom when he had literally no clue what was going on.

He hurried outside, looking down again, his shoulders hunched up by his ears.

As soon as he was out in the hallway, though, he raised his head. And stared. The airport was busy. Not relatively busy. Busy-busy.

Crowded.

#feeling some kind of way about writing his shock at seeing a crowded airport #combined with a last edit date of 2019 #hooooo #meme #queerpyracy

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themculibrary · 2 years

Text

Social Media Masterlist

a day in the life (ao3) - akillerqueenwrites T, 4k

Summary: “So, Ned and I have a video project to do for school – we have to, like, film a day in the life kind of thing. He suggested we could film here, all the Avengers, maybe me at my internship.” Peter takes a mouthful and waits.

Mr Stark shrugs. “I don’t see why not.”

“What – no!” Peter nearly chokes on his toast.

or, Peter and Ned become amateur vloggers for the day

Ask My Dads Anything! (But Keep It PG. Please.) (ao3) - parkrstark steve/tony T, 3k

Summary: Peter's fathers are famous superheros, but he's a famous YouTuber, and after hundreds of requests, finally, he's interviewing them for a video.

Catfish (ao3) - L1av steve/bucky E, 28k

Summary: Catfish /ˈkatˌfiSH/ - A catfish is someone who pretends to be someone they're not using Facebook or other social media to create false identities, particularly to pursue deceptive online romances.

Steve Rogers is a famous movie star, known for his role as Captain America. Bucky Barnes is a bored law student who drinks too much wine. Bucky gets on match.com to boost his confidence. What he doesn't expect is a guy using Steve Rogers' pictures on a dating profile. Bucky decides to mess with the guy. After all, what idiot uses Steve Rogers' pictures on a dating site?

Not like it's really him, right? Bucky may need more wine.

Eat the Rich (ao3) - theoceanismyinkwell G, 1k

Summary: While Peter is home at the Tower over spring break, a very bored Harley decides to make a YouTube channel and debut with a mukbang video with Peter and Tony as guests. Per usual, the two buffoons manage to bully him about everything.

Mr. Stark, I Think I Broke the Internet (ao3) - snakeofalltrades T, 26k

Summary: To be fair, Mr. Stark is very bad at decision-making when it’s 3 am and he’s running on no sleep and enough caffeine to kill Captain America. So it’s really not his fault that the whole internet suddenly thinks Peter Parker is secretly Peter Stark. And also that he’s dating Spider-Man.

Oops.

(Or, a twitter fic with a plot)

No One Wants Your Opinion (ao3) - thepinupchemist steve/bucky E, 5k

Summary: Wherein Bucky loves to cuddle Steve Rogers, Steve comes out on national television for the sole purpose of spiting conservative politicians, Tony sees things he wishes he hadn't, and Pepper doesn't know why she even bothers.

Nothing's As Sweet As Super Soldiers In Love (ao3) - heartsdesire456 steve/bucky T, 12k

Summary: Informally titled: Bucky Barnes Loves The 21st Century Almost As Much As He Loves Steve Rogers

“Captain America’s mystery lover! That’s what everybody’s talking about.”

Bucky turned around as soon as he heard ‘Captain America’, only to see Tony had on some entertainment news report and his latest photo of sleeping Steve was flashed up on the screen beside the person talking. “Hey, what’s that?” he asked, hopping over the back of the couch to land beside Stark.

“Your Cap lovin’ gone viral, I guess,” Tony said, turning up the volume.

“Rumors spread like wildfire with the first photo of Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, was posted to a comically named Instagram called ‘GodBlessAmerica36’.”

@realspidey (ao3) - angryjane peter/flash G, 15k

Summary:

January 30th 2:38 am Spidey @realspidey hello twitter

January 31st 6:02 am Marissa @marissaloves uhh spiderman is that you?

The Art of Publicity (ao3) - xmypandabear pepper/tony T, 43k

Summary: After everything with the Accords, Tony Stark's reputation is in the toilet. Fortunately, he's got Spider-Man to make it better.

(AKA Five times Peter and Tony's relationship made the internet implode a little)

the conspiracy kids (ao3) - tempestaurora T, 15k

Summary: In which peter, harley and ned ask the all-important question: WHO IS SPIDER-MAN?

The Daily Rogers (ao3) - Nonymos steve/bucky, natasha/sam, bruce/clint E, 32k

Summary: College AU. May contain exchange students, a Starbucks addiction, daddy issues, anger issues, closets and how to get out of them, the ever-ominous influence of social networks, various levels of betrayal, awfully poor life choices, but also, ultimately, real chunks of love.

The More You Try (ao3) - Nokomis G, 3k

Summary: Peter makes the mistake of combining superheroes and social media. Things escalate.

tin soldiers (ao3) - idrilka steve/bucky T, 19k

Summary: In the aftermath of Steve's return to the world of the living and the battle of New York, the academia and the Internet react.

Tony Stark Gets a YouTube Channel (ao3) - Melissamermaid T, 72k

Summary: Tony Stark gets a YouTube channel. Follow Tony on a journey into the world of YouTube full of car reviews, tech reviews, guest appearances and interviews!

Webcams and Webshooters (ao3) - losingmymindtonight T, 163k

Summary: Once Peter’s relationship with Tony gets out, the public can’t get enough of their new favorite father-son duo. So, naturally, they monopolize. (Or: Tony and Peter’s relationship, as seen through videos.)

who gives a damn about the family you come from? (ao3) - tempestaurora pepper/tony T, 3k

Summary: It started with a harmless Instagram story on Peter's account. Then Tony Stark reposted it. Then Peter Parker's account blew up.

Harley Keener's there because he likes to watch the world burn.

AKA the social media au we need in these trying times

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #au #socialmedia #socialmedia masterlist #masterlists

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starryknight09 · 1 year

Text

Unforeseen dangers ch 12

Summary: As Peter recovers from his capture by Ross, a photo of him with Tony and the Avengers leaks and is splashed all across the media. Luckily, no one can figure out who he is and everyone thinks the buzz will die down. However, the public’s interest has been ignited. While Tony worries it’s only a matter of time before Peter’s identity is exposed, Peter isn’t as concerned. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen anyway?

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

After the first round of throwing up, Tony felt marginally better. For about five minutes. Which gave him just enough time to pack what he needed in a duffle bag before he found himself running back into the bathroom to pray to the porcelain god again.

He winced and he ran a hand through his sweat ridden locks. Every time he heaved it felt like his head was going to explode. All the lights in the bathroom and bedroom were off because they’d become unbearable. He’d definitely missed the boat on preventing this from reaching nuclear status.

A wave of nausea hit him again and he leaned forward, barely able to see where to aim in the darkness. Shit. He hadn’t had a migraine this bad in years. It might actually be the worst one he’d ever had.

“Fuck.” He mumbled when he was done. At least he didn’t have much of anything in his stomach to come back up since he’d had almost no time to eat during the day. Although the dry heaving seemed almost worst. He spit into the toilet and flushed, the sound assaulting his ears like a jet engine. As he forced himself off the floor, he let out a small moan, but somehow managed to make it over to the sink to rinse his mouth out and splash some cold water on his face.

“Tony? Where are you? Everyone’s waiting.” Cap’s voice called out from his bedroom as he finished toweling off his face.

“Do you ever knock?” He asked but there was no heat to it.

Steve nudged open the bathroom door and stepped in.

“Why are all the lights off in here?” He asked, flicking the switch on before waiting for an answer.

Tony wasn’t proud of his response as he let out strangled cry and slammed his eyes shut, covering the upper part of his face with the towel still in his hand.

“Sorry.” Steve said. “Um FRIDAY? Lights twenty percent.”

The lights dimmed accordingly.

Tony could feel Steve staring at him but he didn’t move the towel away. Even with the lights lowered he was fairly certain he was on the precipice of losing the battle with his stomach again and he didn’t want to chance it.

“FRIDAY can you update Bruce on the situation and send him up here?” Steve requested.

“No, I don’t need—” He tried to protest but he knew it came across as less than convincing since he was still hiding behind a towel.

“You look horrible.” Steve stated, his voice now coming from right next to him.

He scoffed automatically, which was a mistake. “Wow thanks. I—” He didn’t get a chance to finish before he had to dive back to the toilet as his stomach rebelled.

“Shit.” Steve swore softly and a second later he felt the man’s hand on his back. He knew he shouldn’t accept the comfort, should make some sort of sarcastic remark, but he was too busy getting sick, and deep down he had to admit it almost seemed to help. Almost.

“You didn’t take Bruce’s pill did you?”

He knew the exact scathing comment he wanted to say in response, but since he was otherwise occupied, he had to settle for an annoyed groan instead.

“Ok ok. Sorry. Stupid question.” Steve apologized as if he’d heard exactly what Tony had wanted to say.

After what felt like forever, his stomach finally stopped trying to turn itself inside out and Steve helped him up and over to the sink to rinse out his mouth again.

“FRIDAY said I was needed.” Bruce said as he walked in mid-spit. “How are you doing?”

Tony squinted at him through the dim lighting and rasped, “Great. Wonderful. Can’t you tell?”

“Yeah I heard you’ve been getting well acquainted with the toilet.” Bruce lifted an eyebrow but Tony could still see the concern behind his eyes.

“I’m fine.” He denied but even as he said it, he leaned back against the counter, feeling done in and exhausted.

“Yeah you look it.” Bruce countered.

“Between the two of you you’re going to give me a complex.” He joked.

Bruce hummed. “It must not be too dire if your sense of humor is still intact, but I have some things that should help. Let’s get you over to the bed.”

Steve grasped his upper arm but Tony tugged away. “Uh, no, I don’t think that’s a great idea. I should probably just stay right here for awhile.”

“That bad?” Bruce asked.

“I just need to get it out of my system and then I’ll be ready to go.”

“I’m sure.” Bruce said and glanced around the bathroom before addressing Steve, “Let’s sit him against the wall there. That should give me enough space.”

“I’m right here you know.” He complained, hating to be talked about like he wasn’t in the room.

“Oh, we know.” Steve said as he helped him sit in the designated spot before backing away to give Bruce room to work.

“I think it’s too late for the pill I gave you before.” Bruce told him as he dug through a small canvas bag he’d brought with him. Tony hadn’t even noticed it until just now.

“Think so.” He agreed and took a deep breath through his nose as he tilted his head back against the wall, wanting nothing more than to just go lay down somewhere quiet and sleep this off.

“Here.” Bruce said and he opened his eyes to see him holding out a small pill. “Let this dissolve on your tongue. You don’t need to swallow it.”

Tony took it and did just as Bruce had directed, closing his eyes again as he waited for it to dissolve.

“I think we should wait until tomorrow morning to head to the compound.” Steve said, keeping his voice quiet.

“No. We’re going tonight.” He answered, the pill already mostly dissolved. “It’s only a twenty minute flight. I can handle it. I’ll just hold a bucket if I have to.”

“Yeah let’s try to avoid that. For everyone’s sake.” Bruce said. “We can probably leave the bucket at home if we give this stuff at least half an hour to kick in.”

Tony opened his eyes long enough to catch Steve nodding and Bruce drawing up some clear liquid from a vial into a syringe.

“Dad?”

Tony’s gaze snapped over to where Peter stood in the doorway of the bathroom with his backpack slung over his shoulder, looking a mix of confused and worried.

“Uh, hey kid.”

“What’s going on?” Peter dropped the backpack to the ground and took a few steps forward before Tony held his hand up as if to ward him back.

Steve stepped in and gently gripped Peter’s shoulder before he could throw himself down on the ground next to Tony.

“I’m fine. I promise.” Tony tried to reassure him as Bruce finished preparing the syringe that he was undoubtedly about to get stuck with soon.

“This doesn’t look like you’re fine.” Peter argued.

Tony wanted nothing more than to close his eyes again but he forced himself to keep them open and straighten up so he wouldn’t look quite so pitiful to Peter.

“He’ll be fine.” Bruce interjected in his usual calm tone. “It’s just a bad migraine.”

Tony couldn’t help the slight glare he gave to his friend. Just a migraine. He’d like to see how Bruce handled getting hit over the head with a sledgehammer. On second thought, no, he didn’t. He’d turn all huge and green. Stupid. What he hated the most about his migraines was how slow and foggy his mind seemed to get. Like being slightly drunk and incredibly hungover simultaneously.

Bruce ignored the glare and started unbuttoning the front of his shirt instead. He’d already taken off his suit coat and tie earlier, but he was otherwise still in the same clothes he’d worn for the press conference.

“Can you help me get this off of him?” Bruce asked Steve and his friend knelt down, leaving Peter standing a couple feet behind. Tony felt more than useless as the two of them managed to maneuver his limbs with relative ease in order to get the shirt and vest off of him. With his arm now bare, Bruce wiped an alcohol swab over a spot his left shoulder as he uncapped the syringe with his teeth.

“Little poke.” Bruce warned, but it came out slightly garbled with the plastic cap between his teeth.

Tony made a face as he felt the needle sink into his skin, but within a few seconds it was done.

“There.” Bruce said as he put the syringe away. “That should start to work soon. Think you can make it to your bed now?”

Tony took a second to assess. Remarkably the nausea that had dogged him earlier seemed to have subsided somewhat. He wasn’t sure if it was from the natural course of everything or if Bruce’s drugs were already kicking in.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“All right. Let’s get you up.” Bruce looked over at Steve. “On three. One. Two. Three.”

They hauled him to his feet and his head pounded but he didn’t think he was at risk of throwing up again. “Ok.” He said after a few seconds as they waited for him to get his equilibrium. “I’m good.”

They stayed close to his side as he walked into the bedroom and crawled onto the bed, face planting into his pillow. A moment later, he felt the mattress next to him dip as someone climbed onto the other side of his bed to sit next to him. He didn’t have to look to know it was Peter.

“Don’t suffocate yourself.” Bruce joked.

“Death might be preferable.” He complained into his pillow.

“I don’t know.” Steve teased. “That’d be a pretty embarrassing press conference to have to do.”

Bruce snorted.

“I hate you both.”

“No you don’t.” Steve chuckled.

He let out a noncommittal grunt.

“Just rest for bit and give that stuff some time to kick in. We’ll come get you when we’re ready to take off.” Bruce said and Tony gave him a weak thumbs up.

As Bruce and Steve left, their footsteps reverberated like drums in his ears. He buried his face even further into his pillow, just wanting to get absorbed into it and forget he even had a head.

The pain was still too bad to sleep, so he hovered in that in between state of asleep and awake and lost all concept of time until a hesitant hand rested on his back. It took his foggy brain a few seconds to remember Peter still hadn’t left his side.

“You don’t have to stay.” He mumbled.

“I want to.” Peter whispered, mindful of his migraine.

“I’m not going to be good company.”

“That’s ok. I don’t mind.”

He would’ve argued further but he didn’t have the energy, so he sighed and allowed it.

It seemed like between one breath and the next, Steve had returned, but he knew that since that wasn’t possible, he must’ve fallen asleep.

“Tony?” Steve lightly touched his shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“Time to go.” Steve said. “Unless you just want to stay here. You can sleep it off and we’ll go in the morning.”

That did sound nice, but the emotional and irrational parts of him itched to get Peter out of the city. As safe as the tower was, he wanted him somewhere even safer, which was the compound. No one could even get within miles of it without triggering an alert.

He groaned into his pillow before pushing himself up. “No. I’m…” He rubbed a hand down his face. “I’m up.”

“Here.” Steve handed him one of his worn MIT sweatshirts. Right. He’d forgotten he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

“Thanks.” He mumbled, sliding his arms into it and over his head. The softness felt nice against his skin. Peter brought over a pair of shoes and he toe’d them on. “Ok. I’m ready.”

“Is that your bag?” Steve asked, pointing at his packed duffle on the floor outside the bathroom.

“Oh. Yeah.” He definitely would’ve forgotten it.

“I’ll take it down to the Quinjet for you.” Steve snagged the strap and put it over his shoulder as Peter grabbed his own bag off the floor nearby.

“Thanks.” He said as he stood. He couldn’t tell if his head actually felt better or if he was just forcing himself to believe it did, but at least the nausea seemed to be gone for good.

As he walked out, Peter and Steve hovered on either side of him but he resisted the urge to comment.

The journey to the Quinjet was short but miserable. His whole body begged to be allowed to rest as he forced it to function. Thankfully, the interior lights had already been dimmed when he got there and everyone was atypically quiet so they’d obviously been warned about his situation.

Steve took him by the upper arm and led him over to one of the beds. Usually he would’ve protested the babying but he was too miserable to care about his ego at the moment. He collapsed onto the bed, shoving his face into the pillow, barely feeling it as Steve covered him with a blanket. The usually uncomfortable bed felt like heaven and he was out cold before the Quinjet took off.

Tony woke up disoriented. It took him a few long moments to recognize he was lying in his bed at the compound. His head ached and his brain felt fuzzy like he couldn’t think quite right yet. It took him another couple seconds to remember why.

Right. He’d had the mother of migraines to end all migraines so Bruce had shot him up with something and then Steve and Peter had helped him to the Quinjet. He remembered laying down on a bed in the Quinjet and then…nothing. From the morning light cresting through the windows he knew that must’ve been yesterday evening, but he had absolutely no recollection of how he’d gotten into his bed at the compound. Squinting up at the ceiling, he blinked as he tried harder to remember but nothing came to him. Huh. He didn’t think he’d ever blacked out from a migraine before.

A soft knock sounded at his door.

“Come in.” His voice cracked and he cleared his dry throat.

Bruce walked in. “FRIDAY told me you were awake.”

“Yeah.” He pushed himself up to rest against the padded headboard.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” He answered and it wasn’t a lie.

“Good. The migraine’s gone?”

Tony nodded. “Just a normal headache now.”

Bruce smiled. “I have something for that.” He held out a few pills and Tony took them, throwing them back before taking the bottle of water Bruce handed him to wash them down.

“What’d I just take?” He asked after he’d swallowed them.

Bruce snorted. “I love how you ask me that after you’ve already taken them.”

Tony smirked. “What can I say? I must trust you.”

Bruce shook his head in consternation. “Just ibuprofen, but that should hopefully knock out whatever’s left of the headache.”

Tony nodded.

“The nausea’s gone?” Bruce asked, crossing his arms and studying him. Tony didn’t blame him for being skeptical. He wasn’t exactly known for being the most truthful or forthcoming when it came to his health.

“Yeah. I’m just feeling a little uh-” He admitted as he motioned toward his head and tried to think of the right word to describe it. “-fuzzy. Muggy. You know. Not quite firing on all cylinders yet.”

“That could be from the migraine or a side effect of the medication I gave you last night.”

Tony nodded and his brow furrowed. “And for some reason I can’t remember anything after getting in the Quinjet yesterday. Is that a normal migraine thing or something—” He broke off as Bruce stifled a laugh with his hand.

“What?”

“You don’t remember because you were sleeping.”

“I know, but then when we got here, I must’ve woken up and—”

Bruce was shaking his head. “No. You’ve been asleep since the Quinjet.”

“Ok… Then how did I get here?” He asked patting the Egyptian cotton sheets under him.

“Steve carried you.” Bruce answered simply and then broke out into a wide amused grin.

“Oh god.” He closed his eyes and let his head fall back to thunk against the headboard, which didn’t help his headache.

“Don’t worry. Only everyone saw.” Bruce teased. “And I think a few pictures may have been taken. You did look precious all wrapped up in your blanket and drooling on Cap.”

Tony winced in embarrassment, groaning and covering his face with his hand. “You should’ve woken me up.”

“You needed the rest. And if you want to blame someone, you can blame Peter. He insisted we let you sleep. He didn’t want you to wake up and be in pain again.”

Tony huffed out an exasperated sigh. He hadn’t wanted Peter to see him like that in the first place, but he supposed what was done was done. And he couldn’t blame his kid for not wanting to see him hurting anymore. At least it was only the team. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t seen him in even more embarrassing and vulnerable positions before.

“Maybe I’ll just hide out in here today.” He joked, finally uncovering his face.

Bruce smiled. “I was going to suggest the same thing.”

“I’m kidding.”

“I’m not.” Bruce patted him on the shoulder. “You should take it easy today.”

“I can’t. I have things,“ he waved a hand in the air, “to deal with.”

“They can wait.”

Tony gave him a skeptical look. They really couldn’t. His adopted son’s identity had been leaked to the press yesterday.

“If you push yourself too hard or stress yourself too much you’ll just make yourself sick again.” Bruce warned.

Tony sighed in resignation as he rubbed at his eyes.

“I’ll bring you some breakfast. You shouldn’t take those pills on an empty stomach.”

“You’re the one that gave them to me.” Tony accused, dropping his hand.

“Oops.” Bruce shrugged, not sounding at all sorry. “I guess you’ll just have to eat something then.”

Tony scoffed. Bruce clapped him on the shoulder again and left. He let out another sigh as the door closed behind the man.

“FRI, be a dear and turn the TV on, would you?”

“Are you sure that’s wise? Dr. Banner just advised—”

“Just turn it on.” He said in exasperation.

The TV clicked on.

“And of course Tony Stark’s huge announcement yesterday has everyone reeling.” The morning news anchor was talking about his press conference. No big surprise.

“We all knew something was up with all the pictures that had been released over the past few months. The first one, the infamous one of Stark, and as we now know, his adopted son, sitting on that couch after the signing of the Accords, was leaked all the way back in December. It’s just surprising it’s taken this long to uncover the truth.”

“Well, not really all that surprising.” His co-anchor piped in. “I mean this is Tony Stark we’re talking about. Honestly, what I find surprising is that we found anything out at all.”

“Damn right.” He mumbled to himself.

“Oh please.” The man rolled his eyes. “Not even Tony Stark has that kind of power. The people wanted to know and the people found out. I don’t understand why he’d even try to hide it in the first place.”

“You don’t?” The woman scoffed. Tony decided he liked her.

“That kid won the jackpot.” The man continued. “His adopted father is Tony Stark. Ironman. If it were me, I’d be yelling it from the rooftops for everyone to hear.”

“I’m sure you would.” The woman agreed and her co-anchor didn’t seem to recognize her sarcasm.

“I mean come on, what kid hasn’t dreamed of being Tony Stark’s child?”

Tony scrunched up his face. He really hoped that wasn’t true. His life was highly publicized, not to mention dangerous.

“Well, I imagine if Peter had the choice, he’d rather have his real parents. Or I guess in this case, his aunt, the woman that raised him. The one that died last summer.” The woman reminded him pointedly.

“Yes yes that part is all very sad.” The man said with clearly fake sympathy. “But you’re missing the big picture here.”

“Am I?” She sounded like she didn’t believe that she was.

“Yes! A poor orphaned genius from Queens was adopted by his internship mentor, Tony Stark, in his time of need. It’s a modern day Cinderella story.”

“I don’t really see the correlation. The last time I checked I’m pretty sure Cinderella married the prince in order to get away from her evil stepmother.”

The man waved away her argument. “What I’m saying is this kid’s aunt dying was the best thing that ever happened to him.”

Tony grit his teeth and a stab of pain erupted behind his left eye. God. He couldn’t let Peter see this stuff.

The woman wasn’t even trying to hide her distaste at this point. She looked disgusted by the words coming out of her coworker’s mouth. Good. At least it wasn’t just him.

The man continued, “He’s going to be filthy rich. Famous. His life will never be the same again.”

Well, Tony had to admit that last part was right.

“Mark my words. They’re going to adapt this story into a movie.” The man said with unbridled glee.

The woman just shook her head.

“Over my dead body.” Tony mumbled.

“Why are you watching this crap?” Pepper asked as she came in holding a breakfast tray. “I thought you were supposed to be resting.”

“I am.” Tony argued. “I’m just also catching up on what they’ve been saying, since I wasn’t in any shape to do it last night.”

“I heard.” Pepper said as she carefully set the tray down over his lap.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Although in the interest of full disclosure, I should tell you it’s actually from Bruce. He caught me in the kitchen and asked me to bring it to you. I’m just the deliverer.”

“Deliverer? Is that even a word?”

“It is now.” Pepper replied simply before adding, “FRIDAY, turn the TV off please.”

The TV blinked off.

“You don’t need to watch that. You already know what they’re saying.”

“Hm. Knowing it and hearing it for myself are two completely different things.” Tony said.

“Exactly.” Pepper sighed. “Why torture yourself?”

Instead of answering, Tony turned his attention to the food on his tray. Scrambled eggs, toast, fruit and coffee. It looked surprisingly appetizing. He took a bite of the eggs before asking, “You haven’t been watching it then?”

“That’s different. It’s my job.”

“Sure.” Tony raised an eyebrow. “So it’s your job but not mine?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I must’ve misunderstood all those years ago when you made me the CEO of your company.” Pepper sniped.

Tony couldn’t keep from grinning. “Hmm. I might have some vague recollection of that.”

“Right.” Pepper snorted, something she only ever did in front of him.

“Well, if you’ve been watching the news then you can just give me the highlights to spare me from having to watch it myself.” He suggested, taking a sip of coffee.

“Public sentiment is pretty split. Half of them love the idea and half of them hate it.” Pepper said.

Tony took a bite of toast. That was about what he’d expected. The public had always had a love hate relationship with him. It’d started to lean more toward the love side after he’d stopped SI’s production of weapons and became Ironman but his persona had taken quite a hit with all the fallout from the Accords. Even though the team had moved on from it, a lot of people in the public still had strong feelings about it and his role in it.

“But regardless of how they feel about you,” Pepper continued, “they all want to know everything they possibly can about him.”

“Of course they do.” He mumbled, not at all happy to hear that, but also not surprised.

“Have you had a chance to talk to Peter yet?” She asked.

“No. Not yet. Between my head trying to split itself apart, puking my guts out, and passing out in the Quinjet, I couldn’t quite seem to find the right moment yesterday.”

Pepper smiled and he could tell she was trying not to laugh.

“Go ahead. Laugh at my misfortunes.” Tony said glibly as he finished off his eggs. “I know it pushes some kind of sick button for you.”

Pepper let out a short laugh and covered her mouth to try and restrain it. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know it’s not funny.” She took a breath and composed herself.

Tony gave her a withering look as he took a long drink of coffee.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better today, though.” She said, still smiling.

“I am.” He speared a blackberry with his fork. “I mean, as well as I could be with my kid’s identity out there and being splashed across the media.”

Pepper wrinkled her nose. “It’s less than ideal, you’re right, but it can’t be helped now, and I think we have a good plan in place moving forward.”

He nodded. They did. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. That was one big difference between the two of them. Tony fought every unpleasant outcome he’d ever been dealt and played the ‘what if’ game way more than was healthy, but Pepper didn’t. She accepted things as they came and then found a way to deal with them and move on. A good quality for a CEO. It was probably why SI was thriving under her leadership more than it ever had under his.

“FRI, is Peter up?” He asked.

“He is. And he has just finished breakfast.” FRIDAY answered.

“Can you send him in here?”

“Of course.” FRIDAY acknowledged and a moment later added, “He’s on his way.”

“I’ll talk to him now.” Tony told Pepper with some cheek.

“Good.” Pepper nodded. “Let me know how it goes.”

“I will.” He said around the last bit of egg he shoved in his mouth.

Pepper reached out and grabbed his last half eaten piece of toast, taking a bite of it with a smirk.

“Hey.” He protested and gave her a mock shocked look.

“Oh please. You weren’t going to eat it.” She accused, taking another bite.

“You don’t know that. Maybe I was.”

“You weren’t.” She said with certainty as she turned to leave.

He wasn’t. But he was never going to admit it.

“Thief!” He called out after her.

She turned at his door to give him a smile and a roll of her eyes before walking out and leaving him with his own smile on his face.

#unforeseen dangers #ch 12

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trivechallengetonyrobbins52 · 2 years

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Have Your Future Obstacle, Tue, May 11, 2021, 2

Therefore that's why we're doing this challenge due to the fact that I'm fortunate enough to have a car you're blessed sufficient to have a car. You know, you have actually got this community and also you're sharing and also sustaining them. I wish to show other people how they can develop that community on their own or others. And what the obstacle though is not to reveal you inspiring it. If you're felt in one's bones, Oh, Tony can do this. When you see all these different makes as well as designs of humans and sexes and backgrounds and ages, and a lot more significantly, we're mosting likely to have you that simply discover. Nonetheless, one industry that is really escalating right now because everyday individuals are uncovering that they currently have a product and services to sell that individuals around the world are starving for. Luckily you don't require to be ahead of the curve all the time or make radical changes to business to make it. An excellent example of this is a New York City restaurant that began to provide a roll of toilet tissue when regulations did not permit indoor eating and they had to do shipments just. Experienced in helping Understanding Brokers to extract their understanding as well as properly share their interest and also experience. Supplying an in-depth understanding of exactly how to create a winning item that brings in clients. Rachel Miller is a serial entrepreneur and also a mommy of 6 children in 5 years. It is no various than divisions in a brick and mortar operation; to be efficient they have to work together. In terms of social media sites advertising and marketing this can be defined very simply. Examine the ROI of your marketing program is in its entirety, and also have a wonderful manage on outcomes by system. Have specific expectations for each system as well as the software application dimension programs you use? These kinds of dimension should work for your business, and totally leveraged. The past year has been tough on lots of, as well as people all over the globe are feeling unpredictable concerning their future. When I asked Tony what his meaning of success is, I loved his solution. It's aligned with every little thing he talks with his audience about-- service to others. Continuous learning will make life intriguing, however the meaningfulness will certainly come because you have something to offer. I'm a web business owner, life and also business instructor, as well as philanthropist with an interest for living life to the fullest as well as meeting my possibility as a human being. Day # 1 The Number Of Individuals Here Are Doing This With Tony Robbins? 100 Million Meals From The Involvement From This Obstacle! Day # 1 Of The New Globe New You Challenge To incorporate Tony's teaching as well as attain your objectives. I am an independent Mind Mint, LLC affiliate, not a staff member. I obtain recommendation settlements from Mind Mint, LLC. https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCJLMboBYME_CLEfwsduI0wQ shared here are my own and are not official statements of Mastermind.com or its parent firm, Mind Mint, LLC. He thinks that there is a huge population of kids that were elevated in a generation of helicopter moms and dads. The moms and dads assumed whatever ought to be about the kid, and after that they question why their children become self-seeking or don't have fantastic relationships when they get older. Well worth Publication's 100 most effective people in worldwide financing for 3 consecutive years. We discover the path to greatness is when we have persistence with ourselves, gain from our mistakes, as well as come to be disciplined in our thought patterns. Eliminate animal flesh for 10 days and also judge by the outcomes. As the master salesperson, he markets a yummy potion for what ails you with his effective character. Virtually every person replies to his brand of cheerleading as life inevitably considers us down. As driven people, we are all hungry for some powerful nudge to revitalize ourselves. Self renovation experts recognize we are compromised by countless problems from the complexity of life. Lastly, Tony Robbins is among my customers. In addition to Appsumo, I run a sibling business called Sumo. Do you really believe I'm stupid sufficient to bash among my greatest account customers? In this post, I will share why I went to Tony's event, what it was like, and why I walked out. I will certainly also reveal you what I did after I left, and what I gained from the entire experience. Since we are not a manager of our scenarios, we are the architects of our life experience. Now I have a great deal of power at nights and also I have actually kept up later (servicing this god-forsaken blog site), seeming like I don't need as long as sleep as in the past. I'm actually pleased that I did this obstacle since I absolutely believe it has actually permanently transformed my way of life by letting me experience first-hand how great this feels. If you are at all interested by this, after that of course give it a shot; it simply might be something that alters your life. And while I think that dedicating to all the rules for ten days is wonderful, if you flat-out refuse to quit coffee, alcohol, milk, or whatever various other thing, do not let that stop you from taking the obstacle. Development Challenge Terms All Facebook customers can only like or provide a favorable reaction to every video clip as soon as. You can such as greater than one video clip, but you can not like the exact same video more than once. It will rely on the overall number of registered users participating in the evaluation and also the complete number of Applications they will certainly assess. As part of your Application to the Difficulty, you will certainly be called for to take part in the Peer-to-Peer Testimonial. The Peer-to-Peer Review is the first stage of evaluating the Challenge Applications, in which the individuals evaluation and court each various other's Applications, making use of specialized evaluating criteria explained listed below. Nothing worked.Finally obtained two individuals at different times to speak to me on the phone. They returned and claimed there is absolutely nothing we can do. Then in the last last final ending someone was kind enough to send me to to Bert, in the Philippines an authentic dear male. Bert offered me a training course of Tony's to have which expense $260, basically. I have simply done 4 days online doing UPW and also I really feel completely underwhelmed and fairly truthfully really feel unwell. After 4 days of scribbled notes I do not feel I have much else drawn from it. The training course was essentially a lot of jumping about and also a lot of story telling from his viewpoint. There was very little material apart which generally was extremely unnecessary. Get In Touch With Customer Support for inquiries on your products, coaching, or occasions ... The TCV experiments will certainly likewise inform layouts for demonstration blend activators, which are seen as followers to ITER that will supply electrical energy to power grids-- something that ITER is not designed to do. Several nations are working with layouts for demonstration activators; among the most advanced, Europe's EUROfusion reactor, is predicted to begin operations in 2051. The AI confirmed proficient at placing and also shaping the plasma inside the tokamak's fusion chamber in one of the most usual arrangements, including the supposed snowflake shape believed to be the most efficient setup for combination, Felici claimed. The coils are typically regulated by a collection of independent electronic controllers-- one for each facet of the plasma that includes in an experiment-- that are configured according to complicated control design estimations, depending upon the specific conditions being tested. Nutreco calls for the brightest minds to aid know sustainable food production for a growing globe population. The champion gets a special reward in the type of a clinical on-farm validation test in among Nutreco's research farms. The Advancement Institute is a global proving ground that recognizes and also promotes technological options to environmental as well as human development obstacles. Gina Aliotti was born and raised in Monterey, Ca, currently living in Carlsbad, Ca with her 2 kids and extraordinary husband. She is a distinguished fitness specialist and master trainer who went from gym fatigue to living a much healthier way of living! Her life goal is to assist women of all ages simplify their physical fitness video game and also obtain even more results by doing less.

#challange

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subwaysurf45 · 3 years

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Winter Makes Ice (Ep.9)

Summary: you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title

Words: 2421

Episode: Nine

Warning: pure fluff.

Masterlist! Winter Makes Ice Episode: Eight

Time: 8:00pm

Date: October 31st, 2024

One of Tony’s biggest parties in his Halloween bash, people go all out with costumes and decorations; they can afford it. You always helped Tony setup because Halloween was always fun for you, there was never a way to understand or describe it, but it just was. This year was a bit different, obviously. You were getting better, it was starting to show. You were good with all your favourite foods as well as eating in public. It was a shock when you ate dinner with the entire team and the entire time you were hunched over your food with your arms wrapped around your plate to make sure no one would steal anything. The therapist you had now was amazing, he was quite young and served in the army. Though he suffered from his own issues regarding PTSD your meetings felt more like group therapy, questions would go either way and you’d share how both of you have been doing.

You had brought up the Halloween party to Ryan, your therapist, two days ago when you saw him. The flashing lights, fog, and scares weren’t up your alley this year. He tried to give ideas on how to work around it but in the end you got annoyed and claimed you weren’t going to go because ‘Halloween is for children’.

“But you love Halloween,” Bucky sighed from the bathroom, he was going as a vampire. The fake teeth that didn’t really fit just laid on the counter. People (Sam) had joked that he doesn’t go outside and so he never got any sun, Sam was running an ongoing joke of thinking Bucky was a vampire.

“Well, I don’t anymore.” you just curled into bed a little more and pulled the sheets up to your chin, only your head poked out. From where you were lying you could see Bucky in the bathroom and Alpine who was pawing at her little pumpkin scarf, that was Bucky’s idea.

You saw him sigh and look over to Alpine who was sitting on the toilet seat, he just shrugged and let out a massive sigh. You could hear him mutter, “she loves Halloween,” before turning around and flicking off the light. “If you change your mind, please come down, everyone would love to see you.” Bucky gave a quick peck on your forehead and then just looked at your face, his eyes flicking around. “No scary movies, no people will scare you, no one is pulling a prank, we really want you there.”

“I know, maybe next year, maybe Christmas.” You welcome Alpine in your little cocoon and then look to Bucky, “I’ll be there soon.”

“No rush, love.” he kissed your forehead again and then dimmed the lights before leaving.

For the millionth time, you were left alone with your thoughts to multiply. It hurt to know how badly everyone wanted you there, it hurt more because you wanted to go too. People had stopped treating you like fine china which was better but there were still things you didn’t like that your teammates did, the little triggers that could build up to a massive mental breakdown were very common. But is hiding away and not talking to anyone really doing more good than bad? How much were you gaining from only having Alpine to talk to? You knew Bucky was slowly pushing you to get out there, it’s what you did with him. He had taken you to coffee shops and busy malls just to let you see that no one actually wanted to harm you, going out and seeing other human beings was a good thing.

“They probably think I’m soft,” you gently rubbed Alpine, your finger hooked to a little cloth with bats and pumpkins on it. “They are probably talking about me.” you could almost hear Bucky’s voice coming out of Alpine’s mouth.

“They don’t hate you, they love you.”

“Fuck it.” you sighed and took the sheets off and stood.

You weren’t planning on going so that meant you didn’t have a costume, Tony’s party was a costume party, it was frowned upon to show up in regular clothes. There wasn’t a lot you could do with limited time and resources. It was a quick hunt around your room but you were left with nothing but dark clothes from Bucky.

“Bucky…” you gasped. All at once you grabbed a black shirt and some black jeans. You slipped it on before running to the bathroom and putting on black eye makeup to make it look like the winter soldier’s look. The eye makeup was somewhat nicely done, you were rushing. You were about to run down to the party but were hit with the realization. “The arm!” you scream, Alpine shot up, “sorry, go back to sleep.” Alpine chirped and followed you out to the common room which was very empty.

Every drawer was opened and then slammed shut, nothing could be found. Until you pulled the final one and saw what you really needed. Tin foil. Was it wasteful? Yes, but so were copious amounts of plastic balloons and streams Tony plays for and puts up, so you didn’t feel too bad. You quickly took the roll and wrapped it around your left arm, it broke at the elbow but you weren’t too fussed about it.

You could hear the party before you saw it. The music and the chatter flowed very far into the compound, there were shrieks followed by giggles, laughing, and singing. Tony always hires haunted house workers to serve and bartend while also adding to the Halloween experience by scaring people. You were always a fan and somehow joined in by the end of it. You knew for a fact you weren’t ready to get scared and spoked out of your skin, all that excitement and happiness from getting ready with your costume quickly fell short and left you standing there with a terrified look on your face. No one was around you but you could feel eyes on you, it was all in your head but it felt so real.

“Deep breath,” you rolled your shoulders back, “you’ve talked about this before, you know this place has many triggers.” somehow you started to pace as you talked to yourself, hearing instead of thinking made a difference and it is pointed out by Ryan. “just have Bucky and Sam tell them you don’t want to be scared- but what if it’s dark and they don’t know- AH!” you jumped back but it was just Alpine pawing at your leg, “hey, buttercup, c’mere.” You picked her up easily and held her tight in your arms, the vibrating from her purrs instantly calmed you down.

There was a sign that pointed to the party, it was a smallish sized cut out and under it was another cardboard square with a pumpkin on it. You just looked over at it and recognized Banner’s handwriting, he didn’t have a doctor's handwriting like most scientists do, it was very neat. Alpine kept pawing at your face or rubbing against you to make sure you were okay, she was a service cat after all.

The idea hit you like a ton of bricks. You’d make your own sign and have on cardboard taped to your front and one to your back that read something along the lines of ‘don’t scare me’ to let them know. The sign was ripped down and you found a pen before scribbling the request twice. You found tape and stuck it on, your hand was on the door handle to the party when it slightly fell off.

You swung the door open and it seemed every single person was looking at you, the sound of the door hitting the wall drew everyone’s attention to you. It was a standstill for a couple seconds, even the clown’s had their law hung up a tiny bit. Some of you got nervous, maybe they actually didn’t want you here because no one was saying anything, their eyes didn’t move. Alpine walked in with a low meow and no one paid any mind to it, they were all just looking at you.

“No fucking way!” that voice you woke up to and went to bed hearing rang through the entire room, there he was, running up to you with the goofiest smile on his face. “You made it!” his arms wrapped around you and lifted you off the ground, your legs swung around. Bucky jumped up and down pointing to you, “she made it, I told you she’d make- I’m so proud of you!” Bucky hugged you again. All at once a roar blasted through the crowd, people were cheering for you. Banner ran up and gave a one handed hug while Thor practically exploded seeing you.

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” Thor offered a beer but you kindly said no.

“You come back for the parties?” you sunk into Bucky’s side as he kept an arm around you.

Thor just shrugged and gave off his signature smile, “and the beer,” he disappeared back into the group with a wink.

Every person came up one by one to congratulate you on a nice recovery, you hadn't been hugged by so many people in so long it felt. There were people you didn’t even know who were talking to you like they knew you, they’d ask about the mission and Bucky would kindly usher them off. It seemed everyone you weren’t close with came up first and the Avengers waited at the back-except Thor. You kept Alpine in your arms and Bucky would kiss her head before kissing your temple after every person, he’d whisper something nice in your ear every time.

You moved to the back of the room and found your friends sitting on the couch, they didn’t seem to notice until Bucky very obviously coughed. Sam tackled you and made a giggly mess when he saw you.

“She’s dressed as you, tin man!” Sam cackled, “that’s too good,” he whispered as he wiped tears from his eyes from laughing so hard.

“It’s good to have you back, I missed you so much.” Nat’s eyes were glossy as she pulled you in for a tight hug, Alpine squirmed into Bucky’s arm. “I know this is a lot, but trust me, no clown or scary guy is getting near you, alright?” she whispered to you and only you, when she pulled away all she gave was a curt nod before kissing your cheek.

Wanda was a sobbing mess, “I'm just so-oh, god- look at you.'' she wrapped you in a motherly hug, “so proud of you, so, so proud. You have no idea, I’m so happy you’re here.” Wanda had her moment and everyone let her, you might have shed some tears as well. “I’ve always seen you as my daughter, and it hurt to see you like that before, and I just love you.” that’s what caused the waterworks to flow.

Steve was stoic as ever, eyes misty, but stoic. “You have no idea how much this punk was stressing about you, no idea, kid.” he just shook his head and pulled into a bone crushing hug, “massive step, couldn’t be more proud.” He gave that smile and sat back down.

You joined and listened in to the conversation but weren’t really active in it, just listening and looking around. There were a lot of people and costumes were crazy good, turns out the Avengers didn’t really dress up but they loved your look. Bucky just shook his head and tried to fight a smirk that grew on his lips too often, he’d just pull you into a hug to make them shut up. The music played a little too loud for your liking and Bucky tried to find someone to turn it down but no one listened, it was drowned out in the end.

At once the lights shut off and it went pitch black. Your arm circled Bucky’s and you feel him grow extremely rigid, you could sense the other Avengers pulling out weapons and guns. “Citizens of this party,” the voice began, it rang out. You covered your ear and shut your eyes extremely tight. You couldn't hear what the voice was saying but when you saw a white light cast through your closed eyes you peaked them open.

It was Tony standing on a platform, dressed as a zombie. He was speaking to his guests and when he looked over to the Avenger group he saw you huddled together and Bucky giving an unimpressed look. Your hands moved from your ears as you looked at Tony, his face paint was awful.

“Well, there’s the fighter we all know, dressed as her lover.” Tony smirked, “if you want anything, tell her and she’ll do it without question.” Tony looked over and smiled a painful smile, seeing if the joke landed.

“Tony, that’s so ru-” Pepper was cut off by your laughing.

Everyone looked at you like you were another world, you hadn’t laughed that hard in what felt like years. It turned to a quick silent laugh, and everyone joined. Bucky was the last to join but he let out a few stifles before letting go. Steve’s hand held his chest and Nat just shook her head with a wide smile. Everyone leaned your way to try and cover their smiles. Even the people who didn’t know you were laughing, it was stupid joke but it was just what you needed.

“Tony, are you dressed as a zombie or Bruce after he comes back from being the other guy?” your hands cupped your mouth as you yelled to him, Tony dropped his mic from laughing. It was infectious, it quickly spread around the room and soon no one even knew what was funny anymore. It could be the alcohol or just pure fun with friends.

You looked up to Bucky who was just staring at you, “what?” you asked.

“I just love you, and I’m so glad I could tell you.” He whispered.

“I’m glad I’m healing surrounded by my family, around the people who love me most.” you pulled him in and gently placed a kiss on his lips, his face was red when you pulled away.

“But you know I love you the most, right?” he smirked before kissing you again.

Your laughter flooded into the sea of happiness that was flowing around the room again.

The End.

A/N: this has been one hell of a ride and I really hope you enjoyed, any and all feedback is welcomed. I’ll be heading back to oneshots for a while, so if you have asks- ASK! you have no idea how happy I am when I get one. thanks for reading and supporting.

-Rambo <3

Tag List: Winter Makes Ice tag list: @small-death-and-codeine @commonintrest @buckyys-doll @lil-baby-nor @wafflesncream @milo-of-the-sea

let me know if you want a tag!

if you would like little drabbles, oneshots, answers that are in the AU of the story feel free to send an ask, direct message me, request it! I’ll tag you (if you want) to make sure you see it and do my best to write for the ask, send them this way!

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frostedfaves · 3 years

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Oasis

Masterlist

Pairing: dom!Natasha Romanoff x sub!fem!reader

Summary: Natasha promised you relief later, but you’d never been one to have patience.

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY!!!), dom/sub, daddy kink, penetration, fingering, sex toy use, public(ish) sex, hair pulling

A/N: this didn’t turn out as long as I wanted it to be, but it did inspire a (possible) series for the future. no promises that it’ll happen anytime soon though haha. anyway, please don’t be afraid to tell me your thoughts on this!

Natasha should’ve known you’d cause a problem today, from the moment she woke up to the sight of you, naked and straddling her waist with a smile.

“What are you doing?” she questioned with a sleepy mumble, rubbing her eyes and ignoring the way your hands slowly slid past her barely covered breasts to rest on her shoulders.

“I thought you might appreciate the view.”

“I do.”

Despite the confirmation, she pushed you away so she could climb out of bed, causing you to flop down on your side of the bed with a frustrated huff. A pout formed on your lips as you scrambled across the mattress, locking both hands around her wrist before she could head off to the bathroom.

“I wanna play.”

“I’m aware, baby, but Daddy’s very busy this morning.” She leaned down to kiss your forehead gently and briefly. “Give me a few hours without trouble, and I’ll play with you, okay?”

“Can I at least join you in the shower?”

“Only if you behave,” she sighed, her frown shifting to an amused grin when you hopped off the bed and skipped past her into the bathroom.

After the surprisingly uneventful shower, Natasha ate toast with you in the kitchen of her private floor and departed with a lengthy kiss, smiling as you waved adorably until the elevator doors closed. She hoped it was a sign that you were being good today, but part of her knew better.

“Hey,” Steve greeted Natasha as she approached him on the ground floor. “How’s the wife?”

“Anxiously awaiting my return to our floor, as am I. Why can’t we just give them a map of the tower or something, or have JARVIS tell them where to go?”

“You know Stark,” Steve responded with a shrug. “What’s the point of having a tower with your name on it if you can’t give people a tour of the thing?”

“Still don’t understand why we have to be there for this,” Natasha grumbled as the main doors were opened, and Tony entered with two individuals following.

“Just the duo I was looking for!” he called with a grin as he approached. “I know you know Sam, but this is Wanda Maximoff. Fury says she’s good with her mind and could help the team out a lot on missions.”

“Hi,” Wanda softly greeted, and Natasha nodded at her in response.

“It’s nice to meet you, Wanda. I’m Steve Rogers.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve,” Wanda accepted his outstretched hand, and Natasha noticed her eyes turn slightly red as she looked into his, the color fading as she faced Natasha, who averted her gaze.

“Save some team bonding for the rest of us,” Tony teased, gesturing for the group to follow as he walked away.

“Is he always like this?” Sam questioned, and Natasha shook her head.

“Oh no, it gets worse.”

An hour that felt like three passed as Tony gave the two newest Avengers a tour of their new home, occasionally passing the mic along to Steve and Natasha to explain some SHIELD related things he hadn’t bothered to remember on his own. On the main floor, Natasha was just about ready to find an excuse to duck out when the elevator doors opened and you stepped out, your t-shirt and sweatpants traded for a dress that stopped above your knees.

“What’s going on here?” you questioned innocently, ignoring Natasha’s gaze on the flowy skirt of your outfit that exposed part of your upper thighs as you walked toward the group.

“You’re just in time to meet your new neighbors, Mrs. Widow,” Tony greeted you, introducing you to Wanda and Sam while you actively avoided meeting Natasha’s narrowed eyes.

“What are you doing?” she asked through a clenched jaw once the group’s attention was elsewhere, following you into the kitchen.

“I was just going to head out for a bit to get some fresh air.” Your sweet smile suddenly shifted into something that Natasha knew all too well. “But first, I think I’ll get your new teammates something to drink.”

You turned and opened the fridge door, bending down to do the one thing you knew would make her snap, showing off your obvious lack of underwear. Her hand was around your arm in seconds, dragging you out of the kitchen and into the nearest bathroom. You hopped onto the counter while she locked the door, seeming not at all fazed at the boiling pot of anger evident in her expression.

“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?”

Her middle and ring fingers were in your mouth before you could respond, and you ran your tongue over them, biting down a bit as she pulled away and giggling as she forced your legs open.

“You’re wasting your time,” you gasped out as she pushed her fingers into you. “I’ve been ready for you since this morning.”

“Oh, you’re ready, are you?”

You nodded eagerly, your giddy grin shifting to a confused frown as she pulled away and reached for her belt buckle instead. Your eyes widened as she maneuvered the strap that she’d tied to her leg out into the open, her dry hand lifting your chin to force you to meet her gaze.

“When did you--?”

“You forget I’m always one step ahead of you.” She pulled you off the counter roughly and turned you around, pushing your dress up until only your breasts were covered. “You get too loud and you’ll pay for it later.”

A shaky groan fell past your lips as she slipped the toy into your wet folds, steadily rocking her hips against yours until you seemed to adjust to the length. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth as she slammed into you once, twice, and a third time until she was suddenly pounding into you too fast for you to count each thrust.

“What’s the matter?” she cooed with fake concern over your muffled moans. “I thought you wanted to get fucked. You can’t handle me, can you baby?”

Your hand fell onto the counter as she grabbed your hair, pulling you up just enough to see yourself in the mirror. Sounds of pleasure escaped you at the sight of Natasha controlling you, a squeak slipping into the midst of it all when her free hand left your hip for a moment to slap your ass.

“You like watching Daddy fuck you like this don’t you? I bet you want Wanda and Sam to hear you, don’t you? Want them to hear you weak for me like this?”

“No, Daddy!” you choked out, your eyes closing as pressure began to build in your core.

“Natasha?”

You scrambled to stuff the fabric of your dress in your mouth as heavy footsteps came down the hall, fearing Natasha wouldn’t let you cum if you disobeyed her.

“Natasha, you in there?”

“Yeah, Steve. What’s up?” She dug her hand into your hip as she tugged on your hair a little harder, smirking at you in the mirror when your eyes opened again and moving her finger to her lips.

“We’re having a quick meeting in about ten minutes to introduce Sam and Wanda to the others and go over a few things.”

“Sounds good,” she replied as she shifted to start circling her fingers around your clit, chuckling at the way you began to shake in her hold. “I’ll meet you down there.”

The two of you waited in forced silence as Steve’s footsteps echoed down the hallway again, Natasha’s chuckles growing louder while you held your breath, willing your body not to give into release before you were given permission. Just when you thought you couldn’t hold on any longer, she leaned in to nibble on your lobe and--

“Make a mess, baby.”

Your vision blurred and your legs turned to jelly as you reached your limit, the skirt of your dress falling onto the counter again as you screamed out a final moan that turned into a mix of whimpers and groans. Natasha slowed her thrusts as she worked you through your orgasm, eventually pulling out and keeping a firm grip on your waist as she guided you to sit on the toilet. She quickly undid the strap of the toy while you attempted to catch your breath, biting her lip at the sight of your wet thighs.

“Get the handcuffs out and wait on the bed,” she ordered as she tossed the soaked length into your lap and zipped her pants, walking over to the door with a smirk. “And keep that pretty little dress on.”

Tags: @littlegasps @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @nat-km-mh @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @messuhp @creepingwolfberry @natashadeservedmore

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff smut #black widow x reader #black widow #avengers #the avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x fem!reader #avengers imagine #avengers fanfic #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine

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tuiccim · 3 years

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Terrigenisis (Part 20)

Pairing: Stucky x Inhuman!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: After undergoing terrigenisis unwillingly your life is turned upside down when you are deemed too dangerous to return to life as a civilian. You are put with the Avengers team to train and rebuild. As you hone your powers and skills, you must also decide if you can find home and love again. Or is your curse to be a lonely wanderer forever?

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (NSFW 18+)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Terrigenisis Series Masterlist

The following afternoon, the entire team is back at the compound and doing a team training session. You, Steve, and Bucky use the opportunity to announce your engagement. Your teammates are excited and hugs and well wishes surround you.

“Can I be the flower girl?” Wanda jokes as she hugs you.

“Dizzy’s already claimed that honor,” you laugh.

“Alright, alright! Let’s get to work. We need to be in perfect sync for the mission.” Steve redirects everyone’s attention.

“You got it, Cap!” you salute him as you get into position. Two hours later, you break from the drills and begin to disburse when you pull up your phone. “What the hell?” you say as you see your social media had blown up with comments and messages. You pull up your feed and begin reading. You can feel the color drain from your face.

“Doll, are you okay?” Bucky is the first to notice you frozen in shock.

“I… the… I don’t understand.” You feel like throwing up reading the words whore, slut, and many other disgusting slurs left on your account. Bucky pulls your phone from your hand and looks at it.

“What the fuck?” He yells.

Steve speeds over and looks at the phone that Bucky holds out to him.

“I don’t understand,” you say again, trembling. Bucky puts his arms around you.

“Uhhh, guys,” Tony says as he pulls up a video.

The spokesman for one of the biggest celebrity tabloids flashes a picture of Steve and Bucky on the screen and says, “Speculation has always run wild on the love life of Captain America, Steve Rogers, and The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, but they’ve always kept it hush-hush. Now, a source close to the Avengers has come forward to give us the down and dirty details. Allegedly, our shield throwing hero doesn’t have just a girlfriend, but a boyfriend as well. Way to play both sides, Captain. We’ve been told that Captain America is dating none other than his two teammates, The Winter Soldier and Artemis, the newest member of the Avengers.”

“Artemis! The fuck?” you exclaim as a picture of the three of you is displayed on the screen.

“Seen here at one of Tony Stark’s exclusive parties, the three have allegedly been dating for several months. But, according to our source, two men aren’t enough for the voracious Artemis, she’s also in a relationship with none other than the villainous Loki of Asgard,” the spokesman continues. Another picture from the party flashes up of you and Loki laughing together. Your stomach is rolling as this apparently isn’t the end of the slanderous story, “Artemis, an Inhuman with the skills of a linguist and animal trainer, joined the team a year ago and has apparently had her hooks in every man she’s come across since then. Our source claims she had affairs with Tony Stark, Clint Barton, and Sam Wilson before settling on the three she dates now. There is also some speculation surrounding the death of her first husband. Is she the real black widow of the Avengers?”

The video ends and you clutch your stomach, “I’m gonna be sick.” Running to the bathroom, you barely make it to the toilet before you lose your lunch. Bucky and Steve are right behind you.

“Doll, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” Bucky soothes as he rubs your back.

You sit back against the wall and begin to sob. Steve pulls you into his lap and Bucky’s arms surround you both.

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. We’ll fix this.” Steve says as he rubs your back.

“We’ll get through it, doll. Whatever we have to do. We won’t let this stand.” Bucky reassures you.

When the sobs begin to subside, you look at the two of them and nod. They help you stand and you wash out your mouth. When you return, the team is still standing around together.

“Okay, kids. Artie is on his way and formulating a plan as we speak to work this out. We’ll demand a retraction of the slander. The PR team is going through your social media and deleting and blocking any negative comments. There are several groups who are rallying behind you all and your relationship. We’ve got your back, kid.” Tony puts a hand on your shoulder and you nod weakly.

Wanda hugs you and you nearly break down again. Natasha looks as if she’s plotting murder with Clint. You notice Sam is missing.

“Let’s go to our room and rest until Artie gets here. It’ll probably be a long meeting.” Bucky suggests.

“Yeah, okay,” you follow his lead out. Shortly after the three of you get to your room there’s a knock on the door. Steve opens it and lets Sam into the room.

“I, uh… I’m so sorry.” Sam stutters uncharacteristically and can’t quite meet your eyes.

“Kaziah,” you state.

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure. I’m so sorry. I swear I never said anything like that to her. I would never disrespect you like that.” Sam explains.

“It’s not your fault, Sam,” you reassure him.

“But I did tell her about you guys. And how you lost Charlie and became an Inhuman. I’m so sorry.”

“You trusted her. I’m so sorry she betrayed you like that,” you hug Sam’s neck. “I know you must be so hurt that she did that. Maybe she was jealous about our torrid love affair.”

Sam breaks a smile, “I do have a way with the ladies.”

“Your spirit is unbreakable. Already cracking jokes,” Steve puts his arms around you.

“I think it’s laugh or cry at this point. I’d rather laugh. I’m sure there will be more tears later,” you say. “I need a shower.”

“That’s my cue to leave.” Sam quips.

“Sam,” you call.

“Can you tell Tony, please? He can probably find out for sure.”

“Yeah. Of course.” Sam exits.

“Alright, doll. Let’s get that shower.” Bucky pulls you into the bathroom. You stand under the spray minutes later with Bucky and Steve on each side of you. You wash each other gently, sharing soft touches and loving caresses. No matter what anyone ever says about your relationship and your love, you will never give up these two men. The loves of your life.

Your stomach twists for a moment. Loving Steve and Bucky does not negate your love of Charlie. The accusation of killing him was what hurt more than anything else. If it hadn’t been for Terrigenisis you would still most likely be happily married to Charlie. It reaffirms to you that perhaps there really is a reason that everything happens. Which means there is a reason for this happening. You just couldn’t figure out what it was quite yet.

“Team meeting in the conference room, immediately.” Friday chimes into your thoughts.

Ten minutes later, the team is sitting around the conference table facing Artemus "Artie" Pithins, Director of Public Relations, and Tony.

“We apparently have another Artemis now.” Artie chuckles as he greets you.

“Wasn’t my decision but if it means I am as formidable as you I’m honored,” you smile as you shake Artie’s hand.

“Charming under pressure. I love it. We’ll get through this.” Artie reassures you. When everyone is seated Artie addresses the team, “I’d like to begin by telling you all, we have confirmed the source of the leak and that person is being dealt with accordingly. Next, I give this story no credence, but I do need to go through it piece by piece to confirm what is truth and what is lies.”

“We understand.” Steve affirms.

“Are you in a polyamorous relationship as described?” Artie addresses Steve.

“Yes,” Steve replies.

“I see. Sgt. Barnes and our newly dubbed Artemis are your boyfriend and girlfriend?” Artie asks.

“No, they’re my fiancees.” Steve counters.

“Oh, Congratulations.” Artie’s wheels are turning as he continues down his list of questions. He turns to you next, “Are you in any type of relationship with Prince Loki Odinson?”

“He’s a close friend and my training partner,” you say calmly.

“But no romantic relationship now or previously?” Artie confirms.

“No,” you reply.

“Mr. Stark, are you now or have you ever been in a sexual relationship-”

“No, never.” Tony interrupts rolling his eyes.

“Mr. Bar-”

“No,” Clint says curtly.

“Also, no.” Sam pipes in before the question can be asked.

“And the last claim I won’t even dignify. That will be retracted with an apology if I have anything to say about it. I know this is not the most couth question but I need to ask. Have any of the three of you had a sexual relationship with another teammate?” Artie states.

“No,” the three of you say practically in unison.

“Well, then I think we have the perfect solution already in the works. We’ll need the two of you to do a couple of interviews to dispel the rumors and we’ll use that time to also announce the wedding of Captain America and Artemis.” Artie smiles at you.

“You mean the three of us, Captain America, The Winter Soldier, and Artemis,” you say.

“The polyamorous relationship is not going to play well, but if we can shift the story from that relationship to the romance that grew out of you joining the team and throw a spectacular wedding, we’ll have nothing to worry about it,” Artie explains.

“No,” you say, looking between Steve and Bucky.

“Let’s reconvene in two hours. Take the time to discuss it. You have a lot to consider.” Artie closes the meeting.

Back in your room, you sit on the couch with your head in your hands.

“Doll?” Steve sits beside you and puts a hand on your back.

You look up at him, “Do you want to go through with this charade? Leave Bucky out of the ceremony? Everything this entails?”

“I’m pretty sure I’d be best man in Stevie’s wedding no matter what,” Bucky tries to lighten the mood.

“You should be a groom in it, baby,” you counter.

“I know, I know, doll,” Bucky sits on the other side of you, “But it’d just be a show for the public. We can have a ceremony with just our friends after. Or before. However you want.”

“Is that what you think, Stevie?” you ask.

“Here’s what I’m thinking…”

Part 21

Tuiccim’s Masterlist

Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Updates for series are made weekly. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

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spideyspeaches · 3 years

Text

Vibrations per minute ↬ P.P

AN: Based on this post ehehe. (Also 223 followers?! I’m not crying you are ಥ‿ಥ Beta read by my baby sis @parkerpeter24 <3<3

➳ Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

➳ Warnings: smut (semi public), vibrator, minors dni

➳ WC: 1.8k +

➳ Masterlist || Taglist

Peter Parker was not who he looked to be. He was the kind of guy who impressed parents with his bambi eyes and A+ academic performances, but at the same time, he could be a little shit and tease the fuck out of you. For example-

Bets were a naturally occurring event in the Avengers compound, whether it was between Sam and Bucky about who could eat the most number of marshmallows in one go or between Tony and Peter on who could digest more amount of coffee in the least amount of time (both of which landed them in the medbay).

So maybe placing a bet with your boyfriend may not have been your most intelligent choice. You were a smart woman, you should have known better than to place a bet with Spider-Man, especially if the bet included cardio.

And now you were facing the consequences.

You were sitting in the post mission debriefing room, thighs clenched as you saw your boyfriend trying (and failing) to hide his shit eating smirk. You felt the vibrations inside you once again, a little faster than before. Suppressing a moan, you tried to glare murder at him without letting the others know.

Puffing your cheeks, you slid down the chair, hands folded on your chest. You were pretty sure your cheeks were blood red with the amount of heat you felt.

"Y/N are you sure you're alright? You look a little flushed." Steve asked, shifting to look at you from where he was besides You. He looked concerned.

"Uh- yeah- yeah I'm good. Just exhausted." You stuttered a response. Huffing, you tried to discreetly rub your stomach from clenching. A little whimper escaped your throat, which you quickly suppressed by picking up the glass of water and chugging down some.

Sam looked at you weirdly, the others not paying attention as Nick Fury asked them questions.

"Miss Stark if you think you're going to get out of debriefing because your little boyfriend and father are sitting here, you're wrong. Please pay attention" Fury said, looking at you with his pirate eye, before turning around and muttering, "I swear sometimes they behave like school children."

You gave Bucky and Sam a glare as they snickered.

"I'm sorry, I'll- uhh- I'll pay more attention. I'm just, my tummy hurts." You whimpered, flushing when you realised you had said "tummy" in front of the Avengers.

"Well you better take care of the tummy ache. Don't want you to poo all over here." Peter smirked, your jaw dropping at how rude the little shit was. How unfortunate would it be when he finds out someone had burnt his Kylo Ren special edition figurine?

"Fuck you asshat." You seethe, your glare intensifying when he increased the rate of vibrations using the phone app he was holding under the desk.

"Y/N, Peter, enough of this, now listen to what Pirate here has to say before he asks you to skedaddle back to your nursery." Your dad says, rolling his eyes at your childish banter.

You wanted to get out of there. Right away, because you couldn't take the shudders in between your legs anymore, or you would orgasm right there, in front of everyone.

So to get back at them, you raised your hand like you were in elementary school, asking the teacher for permission, "May I go to the washroom? I wanna poo." You ask innocently, smirking when Fury widened his eyes.

Averting your eyes to your boyfriend, you silently conveyed your message, hoping that he got what you were up to.

Ignoring the laughter of the babies in the Avengers' bodies, you stood up abruptly before he could change the settings anymore, walking stiffly to the bathroom.

"That was kind of mean of me." Peter finally said when you were out of his vision.

"Yeah kid, I would've kicked your ass if I didn't know that she would do it before me." Tony snarked, curling his lips and shaking his head before going back to the dossier in front of him.

"You should go and apologise to her Pete. She looked upset." Steve piped in, his disappointed eyebrowsTM showing their way.

"She's in the toilet and he's a horny teenager, you really want him to go right now?" Sam said.

"Ew Sam, get your gutter brain out of here!" Peter defended, not meaning what he said.

In fact he was going to do just that. The entire time during the mission, you had been teasing him one way or another, whether it was landing in certain poses or just touching him every chance you get.

The bet was just an opportunity for him to get back at you for leaving him hot and bothered, dreaming about you all night in that tiny lingerie with spider prints on them.

“Yeah Sam, get out of here.” Natasha joked. Before he could witness the counter arguments though, he left the room, leaving a very noisy meeting room and a very frustrated Nick Fury.

He found you in the bathroom stalls near the cafeteria. It was the women's bathroom but no one was around this time of the night, so he entered it.

He could hear your moans and pants, your arousal hitting his nostrils as he tried to hyperfixate on you. His jeans suddenly felt strained at his… web shooter area.

Opening the bathroom door, he clenched his fists. You were standing there, vibrator out of you and your finger inside, eyes scrunched as you threw your head back, not even noticing him enter.

"Why are you touching yourself?" He growled, smirking innocently when you jerked up, eyes taking a lustful look that sent his blood rushing south.

"It's your fault. You were the one who made me horny in the middle of those boomers." You gritted.

Your hand was poised on your waist now, legs still spread apart, your pussy on display.

Grabbing you by your ass, he picked you up and slammed you against the wall, kissing your jaw, "Just seeking revenge." He mumbled

"Oh oh Petey- revenge for what?" You moaned, arching your back as he undressed you, grabbing your now unclothed boob and sucking on one nipple, twisting the other with his fingers.

Moaning at the sensation of the cool tiles, you dug your fingers at his back, your wet pussy throbbing for a feel of his dick.

"You did it on purpose didn't you? Showing off during missions?" He sucked at your skin, leaving it tender and brushed, "you know how hot you look while you kick ass?"

He unbuttoned his pants, letting his dick slip out with his boxers. His length never ceased to amaze you, the thick organ making your mouth water. You imagined it slipping into you, your thighs slipping wider on instinct.

He saw the look you were giving him, his lustful eyes full of mirth and desperation. Without waiting any further, he slipped out a condom from his discarded jeans' pocket, sliding his dick into your wet entrance, your ass hitting the wall as he pushed into your walls.

Throwing your head back, you hissed as your walls clenched around him.

"You get, you get turned on when I kick ass?" You panted, grabbing his hair in desperation to the coiling in your gut, "Fuck I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna come Pete."

"Well what are you waiting for princess?" He nibs your ear, squeezing your breasts to his now naked chest. You shuddered at the coolness of his body, he's always been cold to touch.

"Fuck princess, feel so good." His mouth was slack, his thrusts getting harder as he shoved into you, "so tight for me. Enjoying my cock in your pussy eh?"

"Yes! Oh- I love it Pete I love it!" Hitting your head on his chest, you pinched his nipple, making him groan and hit your stomach, the slapping sound echoing in the bathroom.

"Say it louder pretty girl"

"Why?" You whined, "I should get back to you for using the vibrator but I'm having too much fun."

You groaned, Your eyes scrunched when his thrusts started to slow down, his senses too overloaded to work together with his stamina.

"Yeah you're needy aren't you?" He said, out of breath from your little meet. He set you down, wiping off your cum using the tissue paper, flushing it off in the toilet.

He took a minute to just admire you. Your body was shining from sweat, your breath coming out in short pants. You were completely naked, breasts out to the display. He flushed when you smirked at him, you had caught him staring. Not that you minded.

"My beautiful girl." He said, voice husky from strain as he closed the distance between you both, holding you in his arms.

You laid your head on his chest, rubbing your cheeks against his pectorals. You could hear his racing heart, chuckling when you saw heat rising up his chest to his neck and then face.

"Why are you blushing? We literally just fucked." You laughed, tracing circles on his collarbones. He looked ethereal from where you were standing, perfectly sculpted by a skillful sculptor.

"Because you're amazing and I can't believe you're my girl." He said.

"Mmhm,” You nodded against him, “Also, do you always keep a condom in your pocket?"

__________••☆••__________

There were many reasons as to why you keep around Peter, and one of them is that he's an amazing chef. Living with his aunt and uncle, he and Ben had been the main source of home cooked meals, because Aunt May was never good at cooking.

You saw him standing in the kitchen, flipping pancakes while he hummed to some melody. You didn't mind, you could stare at him all day. Thankfully, none of the Avengers were awake yet (but they would be. They're huge fans of his food)

"Morning." You smile, wrapping your hands around his waist, placing your head on his back.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked, moving around as you clung to him like a koala. Giggling, you wrapped your legs around his waist, jumping on his back like a potato sack.

"Mmhm, the best sleep I've had in a long while." You mumble, words muffled by his back.

"Is that so?" He asked.

"Yup."

Hearing shuffling noises, you quickly jumped off of him, fixing your t-shirt and sitting on the dining table.

You saw as Steve and Sam entered the kitchen, Natasha soon following suit. Clint had left for his home early that morning, wanting to meet Laura and his kids as soon as he could.

You smiled at each of them, nodding a good morning and helping them sort a plate.

You were arranging the plates when you heard a choked gasp. Alarmed at the sound, you looked up at Steve's horrified expression, looking at where he was pointing a finger.

"What?" You asked, biting your lips.

"That- is that a hickey?!?"

Slapping your neck, you let the plate clatter on the table, ignoring Peter's scrambled replies. You saw Bucky entering from the corner of your eye, unable to formulate a coherent answer.

"Oh my god, Bucky they totally fucked yesterday!"

Page dividers by @cicicantblog

#peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #spiderman x stark!reader #spiderman x you #peter parker x stark!daughter #stark!reader #avenger!reader #spideygirl writes

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thran-duils · 3 years

Text

And Those I Can’t Charm, I Can Kill (P.4)

Title: And Those I Can’t Charm, I Can Kill (Part Four) Summary: Fem!Reader x Mafia!Tony Stark. Too many fringe gangs were making ties and your father noticed. He reached out to the Stark mob for an alliance, offering up a piece of his territory at first. When Stark told him he had enough land, your father offered up the next best thing: you. He knew Stark needed a wife and what better way to solidify a relationship between the two mafia families? You were not naïve, you knew the life and you were trained with guns and negotiations. Your father had made sure of that. The two of you had seen each other on multiple occasions at mafia get togethers and knew of each other. Stark accepted the transaction but little did he know he was going to get a little hellion handed over to him that would not kiss the ground he walked on. He would grow to love it too. Words: 3,561 Warnings (more WILL be added, I am sure): Eventual smut, power dynamics, sexism, smut, public sex, fingering, dom/sub powerplay, kidnapping, violence, death, knife kink, gun kink, angst with a happy ending

Part Three || Part Five || Masterpost mobile || Fanfic masterpost

You and Tony had stared at each other – you down at him and him up at you. It had felt good, fucking him. You had surpassed the real intimacy of a relationship – something the two of you had never had – straight to physical. It was how you normally did things, but it had just taken longer this time than a one-night stand.

But this was different. This was your husband.

You had a deeper connection now. You were startled out of your desire for this to be continuous.

And suddenly by your own doing, the two of you were apart, you standing yourself and him sitting, and you brushed at your hair, uncomfortable before turning for your clothes just to try to escape this unfamiliar territory. Normally, you would say something witty, grab your clothes, and leave. But there was no leaving him. You slept in the same bed. Even if that bed itself had not been christened by the two of you yet.

Tony was off the couch and came up to grasp your arms, stopping you and you looked up at him.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

The words fell around you. And your breath was short, working yourself up again. Tony saw it too and his thumbs caressed your arms, peering in closer. It was not threatening the way he was acting – comforting more than anything.

“I’m here… I’m here to be with you,” he started slowly, stumbling though. He was a man after all in the mafia, raised with the toxic masculinity that came with it. He was trying to navigate his feelings and be soft with you as well. “I want you to feel safe with me. In all aspects.”

It was intimate. And it was reassuring to know that he was making the effort to move even deeper with it. It was exciting. But you still wanted to be guarded.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you answered. Your eyes shot down and then you said, thinking on your feet, “We are both just naked in this room… standing in front of each other. I want my clothes. In case someone walks in.”

Tony’s eyes shot down and he gave a strangled laugh. “Right.” He let you go.

You gave a half smile before you ducked down and grabbed your bra, doing it up. Tony followed suit, beginning to dress himself back up. And then you grabbed your dress. You pulled it over your head and turned around promptly, “Zip me?”

The complete opposite of what you had asked merely ten minutes ago.

Tony cleared his throat, “Yeah.”

He zipped it up and his hands rested around the base of your neck. You were only suspended for a few moments before you turned around to face him again, your faces close. His slacks were back on, belt done, but his dress shirt half buttoned up, that drew your eyes for a split second.

“This is awkward,” he acknowledged sheepishly.

“Yeah,” you agreed and then cleared your own throat. “Um, let’s exit separately. That would seem normal to everyone else. Don’t want to shock them and all.”

He was amused, giving a little laugh, “Right. Don’t forget your thong though.”

“And there you go being the ass that I know,” you retorted, going to grab it and shimmying into it as he gave another laugh.

<><><>

You saw Bucky and Rhodey watching you come back out, curiosity painted on their faces. They had seen how angry Tony had been taking you back into the room and now that you were coming out alone, that was sure to draw their attention. Shit. Tony should have walked out first. You looked away quickly walking past their table and going back to where your friends were sitting before they could stop you.

Moving through the center of the group, you sat back down, adjusting your dress but did not miss the white-hot stares you were receiving from your circle of friends. You met their gazes and leveled them before giving an expectant shrug.

“Where did you go?” one of them asked.

“Nowhere,” you answered simply. You picked up one of your bottles on the table and began pouring shots. “Let’s drink.”

Another friend answered with a giggle, “She went somewhere with her husband.”

You glowered, stalling in pouring the shots, and asked, “So?”

“Did you finally give it up then? Because you’re being defensive. Oh, look, here he comes.”

Following their gaze, you saw Tony walking out now. He was being as normal as you, no sign of a smirk on his face. But then he did give it away. His gaze did flick over to you and the two of you locked eyes for a moment before he looked away again.

“You totally did,” your same friend crowed.

“If you don’t shut the hell up, I’m going to kick you out of the VIP section!” you threatened her.

“Touchy, touchy! Fine, I’ll drop it. It’s done. And so is your honeymoon officially!”

“Ass,” you snapped as you passed the shots out.

<><><>

Tony sat down at the booth and straightened out his suit jacket. “Where are the shots?”

“Well, we took them without you because you were gone for so long,” Natasha said with a twinkle in her eye.

“There’s plenty of alcohol in this bar. I should know. Where’s our bar—”

Someone showed up at the table, dress in the staff uniform and asked, “What’ll it be, Mr. Stark?”

“A round for the table. Bourbon.”

Natasha and Bucky protested. “No, vodka, please.”

“Fine, bourbon and vodka. Just bring two bottles, everyone has their glasses already. Blanton’s and Grey Goose.”

The server nodded, “Of course, Mr. Stark.”

As soon as they walked off, Tony looked around the table again. And they all averted their eyes. Sighing annoyed, he asked – even though he had a good idea already what was going on – , “What is it?”

Clint took the dive for everyone else and tried to say as nonchalantly as possible, “You look… not pissed off.”

“And?” he asked with a sharp edge to his voice. “Do I always look pissed off?”

“Yes,” came the chorus around the table and he frowned, displeased.

Unable to help himself, Bucky chortled, “You fucked,” as Rhodey cracked a wide smile at his statement.

“Be respectful,” Tony snapped at them.

Bucky closed his mouth, biting his cheeks as Tony took a long swig of his drink.

“Respectful? You’re the one that’s been complaining she sleeps turned away from you!” Rhodey said, still laughing lightly. “I was frankly getting tired of hearing about it. This is good news for everyone.”

“You’re welcome then,” Tony muttered to everyone’s continued amusement as the server came back with their bottles. He thanked them and took the bottles, beginning to pour everyone their own respective shots.

“To the King and Queen then,” Natasha proposed, holding up her shot glass.

<><><>

A few weeks later, there was commotion at the front door, and you put your book down before sliding out of the recliner you were in. You could hear Tony; he was angry, ranting. You came into the entrance hall cautiously and found him storming up the stairs. He stopped and was shouting still back at Steve, something about making sure that the car was destroyed and far from the city.

He noticed you were standing there suddenly and that is when you got a full view of his face. He was scraped up.

“Christ, what happened?” you asked him worriedly, coming closer to the bottom of the stairs between him and Steve. Steve took the hint and told Tony he would make sure it happened and turned on his heel to leave.

To you, Tony said, “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.” He began to turn to go up the stairs further.

You followed quickly, “You don’t look fine. Here, let me help.” He started to protest but you were already there, going past him. You stole another glance and saw there were scraps by his eyebrow and upper cheek, bleeding still. “There’s a kit in the guest bathroom. That’s closest. Come on.”

Tony followed you and you told him to sit on the toilet. He did as you said, looking hesitant. You dipped to grab underneath the sink and pulled out the first aid kit. Working quickly, you got the hydrogen peroxide as well and used the cotton balls to wipe at his face. He hissed and you apologized gently, dabbing with care.

“What happened?” you asked again as you wiped at the cuts.

“It doesn’t—”

“Tony.”

He ground his teeth for a few seconds before saying, “I almost got run over.”

You stilled and pulled away to meet his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“One of Weston’s guys.” You knew Weston. He ran an outfit outside the city, smaller but it was influential for keeping the borders secure.

“Weston?” you asked in disbelief. As far as you knew, he did not have any issue with Tony.

“I don’t know. We were working at a site and all of a sudden I heard someone coming in quick and Thor shoved me out of the way.” Your heart clenched and he saw. “He’ll be fine. He got nicked and it sent him spiraling. If it had been one of us, we would have had broken bones. He’s shaken up and bloodied, but he’s gonna be fine.”

“That’s good,” you said dropping the cotton balls into the trash and moving towards the bandaids and antibiotic ointment. “But, did Weston send him?”

“I don’t know,” Tony said honestly. “I don’t think so. The guy is someone who had an issue with me personally. Seems his brother got killed or something in a recent raid. Wanda and Rhodey were interrogating the guy after Steve forced me to come back here in case there were other people gunning for me.”

“That was smart of him,” you said tapping the ointment onto the cuts. “I’m glad he brought you back.”

“Oh, yeah?” Tony asked with a small smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yes, I would like you to always come back alive if you could manage that for me,” you retorted, opening up a bandaid. You bandaged up the worst of it and added for good measure, “And if you could be more cognizant of your surroundings that would be a good place to start to make sure that happens….”

Turning away from him, you heard him give a light chuckle at your quip. You felt the air shift behind you, and you closed the kit, pushing it back further on the counter.

You made to ignore how close he was and walked towards the door, but he was quicker, grabbing your arm and stilling your movement. His other hand grasped the door, and he threw it closed before turning you around and holding you against it. Staring up at him, you stayed still, waiting for him to make his move.

“I’ll take that into consideration, just for you. I’ll keep my head on a swivel. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a good plan.”

Tony’s lips curled into a smile before he leaned in and you followed his movement, coming in to kiss him softly. He hummed in approval, his hands ghosting up your sides. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, and you wrapped your arms tight to paw at his ass through his pants. He liked that by the noise he released, and you sucked in at his bottom lip. Pinning your wrists above your head, his lips dragging roughly over yours. You bit at him now in a mock threat, and he chuckled before capturing you in a passionate kiss. Your pelvis ground towards him and your tongue slipped into his mouth, swirling. The two of you were locked in a passionate dance.

Tony groaned, pulling away as you brushed his length through his slacks with your thigh. He turned you around in a fluid motion, keeping your wrists pinned and pressed himself against your back. Your neck was sucked and peppered with eager kisses, him dry humping you. You dragged your teeth across your bottom lip, a wanton whine escaping.

He let go of your wrists and made quick work of pulling your sun dress up and freeing himself from his pants. Working with him, you spread your legs and arched your back, anticipation crawling over your skin. Pulling your underwear aside, he drove up into you, holding tight at your hips.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you gasped as he picked up speed.

Anyone walking by outside the room would be greeted with loud, pleasured moans and the sound of skin slapping skin with how hard Tony was driving into you. You hardly cared; it was your damn house after all.

The two of you found a slow rhythm to relieve the intensity, a needed break. You rolled your hips, riding him with precision. His hands flexed, one coming up to cup your breast, kneading at it through your dress. He leaned forward enough to suck at your earlobe, whispering filth into your ear before he gave a rough nip.

You pushed back roughly and hissed, “I’m so close. Please.”

Tony’s hand fell from your tit and found its way between your panties and wet pussy. His fingers worked at your clit, and you groaned loudly, begging for him to not stop and he promised you he was going to fuck you good. He was working fast again, his breath coming quick and hot.

“I…I…” you stuttered moments before you clenched, your heat enveloping him tighter.

“Oh, god, that’s it, baby,” Tony praised in a low groan, his fingers faltering on your clit. But he thrusted quicker for a few seconds before he was pulsating. His hand fell to your thigh, fingers digging in as he stilled, emptying completely.

His head rested on your shoulder, the two of you breathing heavy. He found his breath again and laid a soft kiss at your neck.

“Well, that helped my stress,” he breathed.

Leaning back, you turned your head to be able to see him well enough to give him a kiss. Against his lips, you smiled, “Glad I could be of some assistance.”

<><><>

Erick was walking beside you, checking his phone. He suddenly stopped, holding out his arm to stop you as well. “We should go to another store.”

You furrowed your brow and said, “What? Why? I’m done. And they said they would be at the café now for lunch.”

“They’re going to be late.”

Shooting a look across the street, you spotted Bucky inside and slid your eyes back to Erick, looking completely unimpressed. “Nice try. Bucky is already inside.”

Erick swore underneath his breath and you frowned, sensing you were being kept out of the loop about something. You had been surprised when Bucky and Natasha had asked to ride along with you and Erick when they learned where you were going to be going shopping but had told them to come along. They had made it clear they were going somewhere else but would meet back for lunch.

You began walking again and Erick said more firmly, “Y/N, we should find another store to go into.”

Pressing the crosswalk button, you crossed your own arms, your bags bumping up against your middle. You always insisted on carrying some of the bags. Erick was your bodyguard, not your servant.

“Y/N.”

“I heard you. And I’m choosing to ignore you.”

Erick sighed loudly as the light came on to cross and you did so, hearing him follow you despite his protesting. Bucky spotted you through the window and his eyes shot back to Erick, giving him a disappointed glare. It only served to encourage you to move a bit quicker. Upon entering the café, you saw Bucky staring directly at you and Natasha looking at you over her shoulder.

“You’re supposed to be shopping,” Bucky said as you approached the table.

“I’m done. I thought we were having lunch,” you told him, sitting down beside him, placing your bags on the ground. “What’s the hold up?” Natasha was tight lipped as was Bucky as Erick sat down next to Natasha. You exhaled deeply and said in a quieter voice, even though you were alone in the corner, “You can trust me. You know you can. You’re doing a drop off, aren’t you?” Bucky cocked his head and you picked up his coffee and took a sip. “I know Salazar likes to do business in that building. You must need some new toys.”

Natasha and Bucky exchanged a look and for once, you noticed Erick actually looked amused at the fact you had forced yourself into the situation. He knew you were not stupid and he was probably feeling a little sense of pride that they were noticing that as well.

Adjusting in his seat, Bucky admitted in low tones, “Yes. And someone who isn’t gonna be happy about it has people set up inside watching to see who goes in and out.”

“I can do it.”

“It’s dangerous, Y/N,” Erick told you immediately before the other two could respond. His amusement was gone.

Seriously, you asked, “For me? They’re not even to think twice about me walking in. Sure, I’m married to Tony and my dad is a boss. But people really don’t pay attention to me except thinking about getting me on my back.”

Natasha ground her teeth at that, uncomfortable.

“Well, it’s the truth,” you said, shrugging. “They’ll think I’m just going in to look at the back jewelry room. All I care about is shopping anyways, right?” Natasha cocked an eyebrow and you said with a smirk, “Yes. I do know about that too, and I’ve been inside. Problem is I’ll have to actually go up to the room and that guy — Tucker — is a sleazebag.”

“You think I’m gonna let you go alone?” Erick asked.

You patted his arm, “Look at you being chivalrous.”

“Tony would have my balls if I let you around Tucker without me.”

“Wait, we did not even agree to this,” Natasha cut in, holding up her hand.

“Give it to me,” you told her, holding out your hand. “I can carry it in my purse. Go upstairs, get something small from Tucker or act like I was not impressed with the selection, and then come back down a back way to drop it into the chute before circling back and coming back out the front entrance.”

You flexed your fingers after they did not react quick enough. “I have concealed carry if anything goes wrong. And you know Erick is a great protector.”

“I have to ask Tony—” Bucky started to say.

“Bullshit,” you told Bucky. “This needs to get done. I’m assuming it’s time sensitive. And you had an unexpected snag and you have the solution sitting right beside you. Not acting on it is going to make you miss your goddamn window. I have gotten my hands dirty before and involved with this type of shit. It’s nothing new.”

Natasha nodded at Bucky stiffly and he sighed, reaching into his jacket, pulling out a thick bag and handing it to you. You felt it was money and put it into your purse swiftly. It was concealed by the fact it was hidden in a grocery store bag, not see through. Picking the menu up, you quickly scanned it.

“Erick and I both like breakfast sandwiches, his with ham and mine with bacon,” you told them putting the menu back down on the table. “I want an orange juice too. You?”

“Water,” Erick answered before following your movement to stand up.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Hopefully before the food gets here. Mind my bags, please,” you told the pair before striding off and not waiting for their answer.

Tucker was a sweet talker as always, commenting on how nice your jumpsuit looked. His hands trailed along your own and you pulled away naturally, not forcing it. When you politely brushed off his advances, he congratulated you on your recent marriage since he had not seen you since it happened. You bantered back and forth with him about how he was always able to find out the latest gossip. He told you that it was big news that Tony had gotten married; if you did not know it, you were not keeping your ear to the ground at all.

To your surprise, he had something in stock you really wanted. And it was for Tony. A nice new ring and you took it happily. Hopefully if Tony caught wind of this – which he certainly would, you doubted Bucky or Natasha would lie to him – this would soften the blow.

On the way down, you did exactly what you said were you going to do and you dropped the bag off in the chute and came back around. Walking right past the people that you knew were watching for whoever it was that Natasha and Bucky were worried about. They only glanced at you and looked away when they saw the small signature bag of Tucker’s business.

Sliding back into your chair, you placed the bag on the table and said, “It’s done. Also, do you think Tony will like that?”

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl @namjoonwatcheshentai @kaylamcd2000 @damntonystarkandhissmile @aditimukul

Fic tags: @patheticallysentimental @suchababie @downeyreads @teenageregression

#tony stark x reader #tony stark fic #mob tony stark #mob!tony stark #my shit

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stanknotstark · 3 years

Text

Easy Aim (Is Only Exciting Once or Twice) Pt. 5 (Loki x Reader)

Loki’s turn to be a woman in every sense. Guys normally react pretty badly to our level of cramping but I don’t make Loki react too badly because he’s a warrior and probably has felt worse pain. If anything it’s more uncomfortable for him but not enough to warrant much reaction!

Finally.

It’s Loki’s turn to suffer.

You hadn’t come up with a way to get back at the god but karma was a bitch.

Loki walked into the kitchen and because of his obvious mood the team became quiet. You’re pretty sure the temperature dropped like five degrees too.

“Who pushed you out the wrong side of bed, seeing as you haven’t had your cereal yet?” Tony asked.

You snorted into your bite of eggs.

Loki scathingly looked at you and Tony.

“I will piss on your mother’s grave, Stark.” Loki bites at the man.

“Loki!” You yelled at the man. Going for Tony’s mother was off limits. Kind of like how the team didn’t ask questions about Loki’s true parentage.

Tony waved you off with a smile.

“Oh, you didn’t get pushed out of bed. You woke up with a big red spot on the sheets, didn’t you?” Tony says with a light voice.

Realization dawns on you. Loki drops the bagel he had picked up and looks to you with squinted eyes.

Loki had obviously never dealt with this when he shapeshifted.

You quickly stand, gather Loki’s breakfast and push him out of the kitchen, with little resistance, and towards the direction of your room. Ignoring the Avengers questions and concerns. You were so worried you left your own breakfast.

When you both reach your floor. You make him set his breakfast down in the living room, then push Loki to your bathroom and have him sit on the toilet.

It’s too silent so you start talking to fill it.

“Usually when I’m about to start I get extremely horny the week before. Then when the actual day hits I’m cramping like crazy, mostly in my lower back.” You explain as you pull out a bunch of pads from under your sink.

Loki looks at you with something akin to fear but it’s not quite fear, when you glance at him.

“That explains the pain...” Loki whispers with realization.

“The second day is the heaviest so you’ll need to check your pad more so than usual and keep a bottle of Midol nearby because the cramping is terrible. Wait, do Earth medicines even work on you?” You ask the god, freezing your looking to look at him but continue when he shrugs at you.

“The second day you’re also going to deal with mood swings, like, bad so maybe stay away from people?” You tell Loki as you realize you didn’t give him night pads so you search under your sink again.

“The third day it lightens up and usually my hormones balance out. The fourth day you’ll still need to wear a pad, it’ll only be spotting but it’ll spot enough to bleed through your clothes. If you feel like randomly crying at the smallest things, or even something as random as someone sneezing that is normal.” You explain to Loki.

“Wait, I have read about periods, to an extent, but why am I having one exactly?” Loki asks.

You leave the room to find a plastic bag for all the stuff you’re giving Loki, when you come back you explain to Loki who sits there patiently. “Your uterus is shedding it’s walls because you’re not pregnant.”

Loki squints at you.

“How many times does this occur in your lifetime?”

“Once a month till you hit menopause.” You tell him flippantly.

You smile as Loki looks bewildered.

“When do you experience menopause and when do periods generally begin?”

“Usually around fifty and they start around twelve but can start as early as eight years old.” You shrug down at him.

Loki closes his eyes, rubs a hand over his face with a sigh. When his hand drops he shakes his head. “And males have the gall to call presenting females weak.”

You actually laugh at that causing Loki to softly smile up at you.

“I uh, suggest buying some panties that you don��t care about, comfortable too, because you’re going to get blood on them whether you like it or not. I would offer you my panties but that is...gross, for some reason, even if you are in my body.” You babble out to Loki who nods at you as he stands.

You throw the pads he holds into the plastic bag you hold, throw the nightly pads in, throw in a new bottle of Midol then hand it to him.

“Eat with me, I’ll answer all your questions after you put a pad on of course.” You tell Loki, leaving the bathroom. You’re pretty sure he can figure out the pad.

You sit waiting in the living room on the big couch.

Loki comes out of your room not long after and sits next to you, pulling his plate from the coffee table and getting comfy.

You’re shocked but Loki decided to sit pushed up against you. You wrap an arm around his shoulders which causes him make a happy noise while he chews and leans into your arm.

“I guess this explains last night.” You say randomly thinking about the way Loki reacted to you yesterday.

Loki chews through his honey bagel and nods.

“It also explains why I’ve been getting wet for the past few days.” He admits without thought.

You look down at him with a raised brow. “Oh?”

“Yes. There was a time where Steve was lifting something heavy and seeing his muscles bulge made me wet.” Loki explains, eating away, not looking at you but speaking as if he has no care about what he’s sharing. Another milestone you figure.

“There was a moment where you were laughing at something Tony said and that made me wet, I could not fathom why.”

You laugh a little shocked Loki is sharing this with you.

“Also, when you were hard that made me wet.” Loki finishes starting to pick at some grapes you had grabbed for him.

“You’ll tell me you got wet but refuse to tell me you have feelings?” You ask teasingly.

Loki glares at you.

You smile.

Loki goes back to his food and you settle further into the couch causing Loki to further settle into your arm.

“I thought periods last for seven days, did I read false information? Why do yours only last four?” Loki asks after he’s chewed through some of his food.

You hum. “Well everyone is different. Some people last three days, some last the usual seven, some people don’t have them monthly, some do.” You explain. “However if they don’t have them monthly that’s because of a disorder or because they’re young and haven’t balanced out yet.” You thoughtlessly explain better.

Loki is quiet for a bit but then asks. “And you did not know this period was coming?”

You laugh lightly as your hand around Loki’s shoulders plays with your hair. It’s soft and silky. “Well, I don’t take birth control, I had a bad reaction to the one’s they gave me so I can’t really predict when they’re going to hit me. I can generalize between a few weeks but that’s it.”

Loki hums, licking honey off his fingers. It’s just as cute as it sounds.

It’s only four hours later when Loki starts.

You had both moved back into the general public of the tower. You had needed to eat more since you didn’t finish your breakfast then settled in the common area.

You were sitting on the couch with Natasha wrapped in your arms and Clint trying to burrow into your side when Loki made an exclamation crossed with a groan, an arm wrapping along his stomach from across the room where he was reading.

You perk up and look at him as he looks at you with wide eyes.

Natasha knowing what’s going on says, “It’s normal if you feel like you’re pissing yourself, you’re fine.”

Loki relaxes and nods.

“That’s nasty, Nat.” Clint huffs.

“It is a natural event for a woman’s body, something they cannot control and you dare call it nasty?” Loki hisses at Clint.

“There’s blood man!”

“You see more blood on missions, is there a difference?” Loki points out.

You’re smiling with Natasha, looking between Loki and Clint like it’s a tennis match.

“Well, it comes out of their vagina.” Clint weakly argues back.

“I have no doubt you’ve put your mouth on a vagina and that failed to gross you out, your arguments are irrelevant.” Loki says going back to his book.

Clint lets a pitiful noise out of his mouth and looks to you and Nat.

“Don’t look at us, we’re on his side.” Nat says with a shrug, settling back into you. You laugh as Clint rolls his eyes.

You watch Loki out of the corner of your eye as you converse with Nat and Clint. Loki has an uncomfortable look on his face and his arm is still wrapped around his stomach.

You tell Nat you need to get up and she groans but allows you to. Then, she climbs onto Clint.

Out of everyone in the tower you did not expect Natasha to be the most affectionate.

You grab Loki’s attention and get him to follow you back to your floor, again. When you have him laying on your bed you search in your bathroom for what you seek.

Coming out of the bathroom a few minutes later you show Loki what you have by holding it up in both hands with a satisfied smile. It’s old fashioned, you probably should just buy a heating pad, but this was given to you by your mother and you can’t let go of it because of sentiment.

“What is that?” Loki asks with confusion etching his face, propped up on his elbow. He stares at the orange, rubber bag you hold. It’s the size of a decorative pillow.

“A water bottle.”

“Are you expecting me to drink it?” He asks slowly.

“No.” You laugh and make your way over to him.

When you’ve climbed into the bed and cuddled up to Loki you place the warm bottle on his lower stomach and Loki actually groans.

“I understand the intended use now.” He says in a grateful voice as the heat of the bottle penetrates his aching stomach.

You smile at him but turn your attention to putting on a movie so Loki may rest here for awhile.

See, thing is, it doesn’t stop. The cuddling, that is.

The next day Loki comes to you and asks if he may use your water bottle. When you tell him yes and go to give it to him he holds it, looking at it like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“Would you mind.....holding me as I use this?” Loki says in a soft voice, as if afraid he’s going to be rejected.

You can see tears welling up in his eyes when he looks up at you, which you blame on the period. You smile at Loki and nod.

“Of course.”

As you lay there with Loki wrapped in your arms, a movie playing in the background, he says, “While I am trying to keep an open mind about this whole situation, the blood clots are disgusting.”

You laugh, causing Loki to smile up at you.

“Have you bled through yet?” You ask him after awhile, curious.

Loki scoffs. “Yes. I was wearing a nice pair of pants at the time. Natasha promised to get the blood out though.” He says with a frown.

“If anyone here knows how to get blood out of clothes, Natasha would be the expert.” You chuckle out.

“I must apologize to her. I was a bit snappy at the time because of the frustration of ruining a perfectly good pair of pants. She was close and received the brunt of my frustration.” Loki says, his fingers trailing down the side of your chest as he spoke, his eyes trained on the movie though.

Loki must not be ticklish, you absently think as his fingers drag over your sides and you don’t react.

It happens again the next day. The day after that too, you both cuddle with the bottle and watch movies.

When the period ends Loki still comes to your room and cuddles with you. It’s a routine now. Every evening, if there is nothing going on, Loki comes and you both relax into each other and watch movies and tv shows, casually talking or teasing the people in the movies. You refrain from teasing Loki personally until after the period has passed because you’d feel bad if you made him cry.

It’s nice, to say the least.

What you don’t expect is Loki almost kissing you one day.

It was a normal day, you were cuddling and watching Die Hard, teasing the actor when things were way exaggerated. You had been rambling on about how some of the action scenes could have ended had Bruce’s character did something else. You had noticed Loki looking at you with a twinkle in his eye but said nothing about it. You really looked down at him when he grabbed your chin and angled it just enough to where he could reach your lips.

Loki pushes and crawls up, you laying beneath him, frozen. Your eyes roam his face, it’s a little weird looking at your face but you’re too invested in the moment, to invested in the switching bodies thing. His lips come to hover over yours, close enough you could close the distance in a blink but you stay rooted to the bed. You both breath each other in, eyes memorizing everything about this moment.

Then the moment passes and Loki pulls from you. You let out a deep breath and blink.

Surprisingly, Loki did not run, instead he cuddled back into you and continued conversation as if nothing had happened. You replied back casually, if not a little shaky from the anticipation you had just experienced.

Tag list: @a-laufeyson

#loki x reader #easy aim #easy aim pt.5 #loki gif #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #reader insert #my writing #i read over this like 8 times or more because i wanted to put more situations in it where we experience loki and the period #but i couldnt find a way to add them in without disrupting the flow of the sotry #story*#idk imma let this sit in my drafts for a bit and see if i come up with a way to put a new part in it #we'll see #body switching au #i couldnt come up with anything more to add sorry like i just dont find periods that eventful cuz i only experience mood swings and cramps #other than that everything is calm #and i dont want to write something wrong if i did make it to where he gets sick and stuff cuz i dont have anyone i can talk to about this #all my friends are male 😅#and i dont want to message people on here and be like hey what kind of periods do you have?! XDDDD

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