#but one day they will meet again. and Spider will savor the hugs he can get. and tease. and play. and be a good big brother.

[dirtytransmasc]

I really hope that Spider gets to visit Neteyam, gets to see his little brother and play in the memories of the good times. the times before their bond faded. before Neteyam pulled away and became crushed beneath the wait of his parents and clans expectations.

maybe Spider is war-torn and grizzled, while his best memories of Neteyam keep him young and naive of the horrors of the world. maybe when he gets to hold his brother again, his hands calloused and skin scarred, while Neteyam's are tiny and soft.

they can play tag and hide and seek and go fishing. they could just be kids. Spider can escape war for mere moments to just. be at peace. and he'd hug him so tight the kids squeaking "I can't breath, stop!" giggling up a storm. and Neteyam doesn't question why his brother is so much bigger than he remembers, cause he makes a much comfier napping spot.

and maybe Spider gets to see his brother's face, older, but not so tired and worn. his eyes have a younger spark in them, his smile is less weighed down and tight at the corners. his shoulders stronger and held high, no longer bearing too heavy a burden. he can hug this brother freely and tell him he loves him and call him 'brother' without agonizing tension and distance. a chasm in his chest filling in slightly.

knowing his brother is free and happy in Eywa brings him peace.

[macnevercries]

Colorblind

(Kirishima x Prostitute! Reader)

Warnings- size kink, prostitution, oral(giving), penetrative sex

WC: ~1.4k

This is for @daisy-bakugo ‘s Vice City collab. I would really like to thank her for letting me join because I look up to her so much. I hope you guys enjoy!!

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Sometimes you find yourself wishing the world had a filter. Everything is so drab. Gray paint peeling off the walls, spider webs in the corners or the ceiling, the flat pillows, the bland bed spread that you knew wasn’t quite clean. This is how every motel looks to you. And you see it every day of your life.

Even in Vegas things weren’t colorful, lights shine brightly, people talk loudly, cars drive by, nothing satisfies you. No matter what clothes you wore, no matter how heavy your makeup, you never felt vivid, vibrant.

You put your purse on the striped armchair, using your hand to dust it off before you set it down. You walk over to the bed, tucking your jacket underneath you as you sit down, running your fingers over the blankets. Not terrible, could be better. You get up and walk to the bathroom, checking your makeup in the harsh lighting, washing your hands for good measure.

A gentle knock creeps through the room and you open the bathroom door, scarlet eyes meeting your own.

“Hello, sorry I’m late”

You laugh at the polite redhead, he looked so genuine.

“You’re fine, this is your appointment after all. Kirishima, right?”

He nods and you saunter towards the man, discarding your jacket on the chair, leaving you in just your lingerie. His eyes almost pop out as he takes you in, his hungry gaze eating you alive. You brush his shoulders with your fingertips, running them along his chest and through his hair, completely capturing him. He leans into your touch, eyes flitting shut as your soft touches calm him.

“How do you want this done?”

He blushes deeply at your directness, his face almost meeting his hair in color.

“I’ve never actually done this before, whatever you want really”

Now this was funny, ‘whatever you want?���, this was for him, he’s the one paying you.

“Never had sex or never with a sex worker?”

“Never with a sex worker”

“Well then we can make this work, I’ll do what I’m good at and you just sit back”

You guide him over to the bed, he steps back and you step forward, almost a tango. He sits back on the bed and you take your place between his knees, running your fingers up and down his thighs. He leans back on his hands, watching you carefully as you zip down his pants and free his already hard cock.

You pull it out of his boxers, slipping his pants down to his knees. You wrap one hand around it, barely having your fingers touch on the other side. It’s pretty and pink, red at the tip where it oozes precum. Two veins run down the bottom and it curves slightly up and to the right, average in length and amazing girth, this would do nicely.

You spit on your palm and pump his cock, placing butterfly kisses and kitten licks on it. You feel him throb beneath your hand when you cup his heavy balls, grazing them gently. He sucks in a breath when your mouth encases the tip, swirling your tongue to gather all he can give you. You plant your hand on his thigh, steadying his shaking his as you take all of him down your throat. You bob your head to the beat of his moans, enjoying the feeling.

“You-You’re so good at this”

“I would hope so” you mumble with your mouth full. The vibrations of your words send his brain spiraling, hot cum pouring down your throat. He throws his head back and whimpers. You swallow it all, the taste pleasant. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue to show him, earning a groan.

You tug his pants off completely, and unbutton his shirt, folding them and setting them down on the bedside table. He lays back on the bed, eyes never leaving your frame. You climb on the bed, straddling his waist with your thighs. His hard dick is pressed up against your ass while you grind on him, your arousal seeping through your panties and onto his lower stomach. Your hands grip his biceps when you lean down to nibble on his ear, lips moving down his neck, to shoulder, to chest.

“Can I touch you?”

You nod with fervor, it had been a while since a client had you feeling this way. Your need to stay professional ran out the door as his big hands met your hips, slid up your thighs, grabbed your waist.

He grabs your face in his hands, making it look so small in his grasp. He drags his thumb over your quivering lips, gently pushing past them and pressing down on your tongue. You suck his finger diligently, savoring the taste. He removes his hand from your face, tracing down your collar bone and cupping your breasts. He pulls the lace away from your skin, becoming completely entranced as they spill free from their confinements. He kisses them, sucking on one nipple and pinching the other. You buck your hips, grinding back into him. He detaches his mouth from your chest and gives them a final squeeze before leaning back and settling his hands on your hips.

He leans over to his bag quickly and grabs a condom, he rolls it on with experience and pulls you back towards him. You raise your hips with his help and line yourself up with his cock. He moves you along it a few times, spreading your slick along his covered length. Finally, he pushes into you, stretching you out slowly until his hips meet yours perfectly. When he rocks into you, it’s gentle, not rough. The slow, deep, swing of his hips up into yours, it’s nice, pleasurable. His cock curves perfectly to hit all the right places, making you feel satisfyingly full. His tender grip tightens a little as he guides your hips, grinding you against him.

Your hands grip his shoulders tightly as you move your body with his large palms, planted against the fat of your hips. Each excruciatingly slow drag of your clit against his pelvic bone makes you shiver with lust.

“Please please please, I need more”

“Call me Eijiro, call out my name”

“Eijiro! F-fuck, harder please!”

“Whatever you want princess”

He lets himself go, holding you up off him slightly and jutting his hips up to meet yours. You gasp at his sudden speed and immense strength, just who was this guy? His hips piston into you, hitting all the right spots and just barely kissing your cervix. The sheer force of his body against yours has you shaking. His thumbs slips to your clit, circling it languidly at first, slowly building up speed until it matches the pace of his hips.

You shudder and convulse around him, squeezing him for everything he’s got. He releases, continujing to fuck into you, overstimulation got you both a little before slowing to a stop. You collapse onto his chest, catching your breath. He presses a small kiss to the top of your disheveled hair and moves you off him gently. He ties the condom off and throws it in the trash, pulling up his pants. You get up and clean off briefly in the bathroom, adjusting your lingerie so that it covers you again. He reaches into his bag and pulls out something white.

He hands you the envelope, his number scrawled across the back. You raise an eyebrow, looking up at him for answers.

“If you ever want to, call me. I’ll take care of you”

“Thank you but I can take care of myself darling”

You smile warmly when you grab your coat. You walk down the hallway, the ceiling not far from your head and the dim lamps that line the doors a peaceful image. You push open the door to the motel and breath in the fresh air, as fresh as air in Vegas could be that is. As you walk down the sidewalk past the bustling crowds and hug your jacket close, thoughts of him race your mind.

You wanted to consider his offer, you truly did. He was one of the sweetest guys you’d been with. But it’s meeting men like him that make this job worthwhile. Meeting men like him makes life colorful.

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

Hey so I really don’t know how to request stuff, but like I love your posts and I love Freddie so here we go

Freddie and the weasleys go visit the muggle world but the States and meet this amazing girl (aka y/n) while at a carnival. He falls head over heels the moment he sees her and they talk for a while, he believes she’s a muggle, however when they go back to hogwarts, she ends up being the new transfer student :o

But it’s okay if you don’t do it! It’s just a little idea maybe you can take some inspo off it ❤️

America was a lot bigger than Charlie told the Weasleys... And Harry. It was massive as they stood on the side walk. "airplanes. How fascinating!" Arthur said making all of the kids groan in response. "We. Know." Ginny sighed. "You talked about it for three hours on the plane!" Ron whined.

"Mum! Dad!" Someone said from across the street. He ran over and waved. "You guys made it!" Charlie said. "Yes and we're quite tired, where are we staying?" Molly asked. "Oh, it's two blocks from here, come on." Charlie said. The group walked, looking around at the scenery. "A carnival is in town tomorrow, you guys are totally going." Charlie said. Fred rose a brow. "Carnival? Like something from the movies?" He asked. "What expecting a summer romance?" Charlie asked jokingly. "No I--" Fred then noticed the long haired girl walking down the steps of the subway, face looking focused as you walked. "No." He cleared his throat. "Ohh he saw something pretty." Ginny teased. "Shut it." He said, roughing up her hair.

Fred didn't think much about the carnival idea. In fact this trip over all wasn't very exciting to him. Ron and Harry shared a room, Fred and George shared one and Ginny was the lucky one on her own. Fred looked out the window and Charlie walked in. "You guys ready to goooo?" He asked. "Yeah. Tell me this won't be dull." Fred said. "It won't be dull." Charlie assured.

So there Fred stood, screams of citizens going on as they rode rides, attractions that muggles of course found interesting with their naive minds and then... You. Fred didn't think much of this but you sat at a picnic table talking to someone. Your hair was in a ponytail, pulled back by a black ribbon and you wore a red cardigan despite the warm weather. Your smile was something he was captivated by, his lips parting as he saw it. Charlie rose a brow, following his brother's gaze before you looked over. "Charlie!" You said running over. Fred blinked.

"Y/n! Hi!" Charlie greeted. You gave him a small hug and you chuckled. "Glad to see you came, Sam's over there if you wanna talk to her." You said with finger guns. He chuckled and shook his head. "This is my brother Fred. Keep his sane will you?" Charlie asked. "I got it! Go go!" You shoved him to the table and ran back over. "What was that about?" Fred asked. "Charlie has a thing for my friend. This was a set up." You chuckled. You turned to Fred. "So you're Fred. Where's George?" You asked, cocking your head to the side like a confused dog. "...You know about George?" Fred asked. "Yeah, Charlie talks to me all the time." You nodded. "George is with Ginny." Fred said slowly, looking at you. "What's wrong?" You asked. "I... How do you know Charlie?" He asked. "My dad owns a coffee shop that I work at during the summer and Charlie is a regular." You said. Oh... So you were... A muggle.

Fred nodded and you rose a brow. "So, you wanna do something?" You asked curiously, bouncing back and forth on the balls of your heels. "uhh... Sure.. I don't know anything here though." He admitted. "Well in two hours there's going to be a banana derby." You said. Fred blinked. "A what?" He asked. "Spider monkeys riding on the back of dogs like it's a derby." You said. He blinked and gaped slightly. "What the hell are you Americans on?" Fred asked. "Freedom.... Too much freedom. But freedom." You answered. Fred snorted and you both started laughing.

"Well what's there to do now?" Fred finally asked. "Well there's rides but they're way too fucking loud and have a tendency to break down." You said. "No." Fred shuddered at the thought. Course he could easily fix something. "There's food that will cause you to probably die by thirty." You said. Fred rose a brow before seeing a kid walk by with a deep fried oreo. "I am understanding this 'too much freedom' comment you made." Fred said with a shudder. "There's games that are totally rigged but still kind of fun." You said. "That sounds kind of appealing compared to rotting your insides and potentially having a hospital trip." Fred said. "Rigged games it is!" You chuckled.

Fred followed you around, watching you laugh at many failed attempts with a baseball and hitting targets. "God your bad at this." You laughed. "Okay, you try it then!" Fred laughed. You picked up a baseball and hit the target making Fred raise a brow. "America's favorite pastime." You said, throwing the next ball up, it falling back into your hand and you hitting the next target. "How are you doing that?" Fred asked. You chuckled and stood behind Fred. "straighten your legs a little." You instructed. "Now pull your arm back." You said, guiding his arm with your hands. God they were so soft and small. "Wow..." You muttered, feeling the muscle that Fred had. Quidditch was a God send in this moment. "Like something?" He asked with a chuckle. "Throw the ball idiot." You blushed, letting go. He hit the target. "Pick your prize." The attendant said in a monotone voice. "What do you want?" Fred asked. "....Uuuh.. that weird ass mole platypus looking thing." You said pointing to the unidentifiable stuffed animal. "It's also a backpack." The attendant muttered. "BRO THAT'S SO COOL" you gaped, pulling it onto your back. Fred snorted, seeing you hop around with the creature on your back. If Fred weren't at a muggle based carnival he would almost call the backpack a niffler.

Fred spent most of the evening with you, talking to you and discovering you actually were moving to Scotland soon. Charlie befriended you so you'd know at least one person out there. "Why are you moving?" He asked. "Mom got a new job out there. She's an archeologist." You said. "Ah." Fred nodded. "what about you, what do your parents do?" You asked. "Uhm." Fuck, how should he answer that? "Mum's a stay at home mother and my dad... Works a desk job." He said. Not technically a lie. "Hmm." You nodded. "What do you want to be exactly?" Fred asked. "Welll... That's a little hard to explain." You admitted. "I'm used to weird." Fred chuckled. You smiled slightly. "Uhm... I want to study--" "Y/N!!!!!" someone called making you sigh. "I'll be right back." You huffed.

The girl from earlier was talking to you, smiling and you rolled your eyes. You came back over and snorted. "What was that?" Fred asked. "Charlie asked Sam out. Officially." You laughed. "and she needed to tell you?" Fred asked. "Sam tells me everything. I'm really going to miss her when I move." You said with a sigh. Fred put his hand over yours and you looked up, Fred giving you a reassuring look. You smiled at him and he kissed your knuckles. "On the bright side... I can see you in Scotland." Fred said. You smiled at that comment and laughed. "I suppose that is true."

The evening carried on, you and Fred watching the insane event of a 'Banana derby' before spending time in a photo booth. Fred had never taken muggle pictures that stayed still. He was smiling at you in most of them. But something crazy happened. You smiled back at him once you realized he was looking at you and before either of you knew it, his lips were on yours. The last flash made you two aware of where you were. You let out a breathless laugh against his forehead. "This is absolutely wild." You said. "I tend to like wild." Fred said. "Well clearly, you just kissed me." You snorted. You climbed out, handing him a photo strip. Fred smiled and you put another strip in your wallet.

"Fred! Time to go!" Someone called. You shifted and he pressed a kiss to you one last time. You savored that feeling. The warmth, the hold he made sure he had on you to make you feel secure, his breath. All of it. "Fred!" Someone called again. "I'll get your address and write to you from Charlie." You said. "okay." He said with a slightly pained smile. He ran off and you shook your head with a smile.

Fred was positive he wasn't going to see you again though. After all... You weren't a wizard. You wouldn't be walking the halls of Hogwarts, you'd be somewhere in Scotland with your family. Fred seemed disappointed as he thought about it more. He wasn't going to see you again.

The day finally came when he sat at the breakfast table in the burrow. Charlie was there to spend time at home for a little while. "So I heard from a little bird that you got along with Y/n." Charlie said. "Yeah." Fred said, seeming sad at the mention. "She's a crazy girl that one, she wants to do what I do." Charlie said. "What fake job did you give her?" George asked. Charlie rose a brow confused. "Wait, she's not--" "Get the car ready Arthur, they've got to go soon." Molly said. "God I miss hogwarts." Charlie said. "Honestly, me too." Bill agreed. Fred got up, getting dressed and finishing packing.

The train ride was long and silent, his thoughts of course drifting to you. What was Charlie going to say before Molly cut him off? He swore for a couple of seconds he saw you on the platform. He knew that wasn't possible. He sat in the great hall, head on his hand. "Oh my God, Fred. Stop moping." George sighed. "Sorry." Fred said not thinking. Dumbledore went through the sorting of first years and he applauded in silence. "And before we begin the opening feast I'd like to introduce Gryffindor's newest member." The door opened behind Dumbledore and Fred's eyes widened as you brushed ash off your cloak. "Y/n L/n.... Uhm... What happened?" Dumbledore asked as you coughed out smoke. "Charlie Weasley happened." You said making a few people laugh.

Dumbledore used a quick cleaning spell and you were as good as new before you saw Fred. He swallowed, looking at you and you stepped down, him getting up and practically sprinting to you. He scooped you into his arms and you laughed. "Surprised?" You asked. "When the hell were you going to tell me you were a wizard!?" Fred asked, cupping your face. You furrowed your brow. "Charlie never told you-- I am kicking your brother's ass." You said making him laugh. "I work part time with your brother during the summers. I'm on a scholarship for dragon studies. You seriously haven't heard about the girl who has the weird friendships with the dragons?" You asked. "Oh my God that was you!?" Fred asked. "Yes!" You laughed before Fred scattered kisses across your face. You smiled and George blinked. "SHE'S REAL!?" he asked making Fred look over. "YES YOU MORON!" Fred said making you laugh hard.

He spent his morning showing you around, him keeping an arm around you, or holding your hand the entire time. Fred would sometimes just look at you. No talking. No comments. Just look. And he knew instantly by listening to you that you were the one.

Taglist: @amhyeah @newtaholic-staygold @bbeauttyybbx @fleurho @yodeadxss @mariah-can-dream

[wienerbarnes]

Necessary Evil

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 1,816

Warnings: nothing crazy, typical canon violence type stuff, special character appearance👀

A/N: so sorry for not posting this like two days ago when i said i was going to🥴 ive had a ton going on and ive been a busy bee but hopefully ill get myself organized for next week :) question for yall! should i keep the friday posting schedule or do thursdays instead bc of fatws on fridays? lmk!

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

It’s been a confusing couple of weeks. You’ve been placed on a temporary leave while you finish your recovery after the last mission.

You’ve been trying to learn as much about your new powers as you can, not really understanding what they are or how they work considering that most of the time they’ve shown themselves it’s been accidental.

Making Bucky drop food, slamming doors shut, sending stuff flying across the room. At this point you’ll tape your hands at your sides if it means you’ll stop making such a mess everywhere.

Everything has been put on halt. You don’t cook, in fear of starting a fire or making a mess in your kitchen, you don’t spar with anyone or workout unless it’s in a closed off and sealed training room used for when the Hulk was at the tower, in fear of hurting people around you, and unfortunately, you haven’t let Bucky be around you much in fear of hurting him.

He tells you that you’re not going to hurt him and that even if you did he wouldn’t take it personally, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. The two of you got into a heated argument a few days ago when he offered to let you use him as a practice dummy for your new powers.

“How dare you suggest something like that to me?!”

“Well, I just meant that -”

“Meant what? How would you feel if I asked you to slap me around like a ragdoll with your metal arm? Make you go Winter Soldier on me?”

“That’s not the same thing, and you know it.”

“Isn’t it though?”

It wasn’t pretty.

It also didn’t help that Bucky was sent on a solo mission recently. He couldn’t tell you much about it, and you didn’t push it, knowing the two of you were still a bit rocky with each other, and knowing that it would only put more stress on you constantly thinking about his mission.

Boy, did you miss him though. You’re glad you put aside your pride to hug and kiss him goodbye, taking in his warmth, his love, his smell, savoring his arms around you and his lips on yours before he left. With the way he held and kissed you, you think he felt the same.

That was two days ago. Alpine has been the one to keep you the most company. She’s gotten big, and it’s a lot more fun to play around with her now. You trail a feather attached to the end of a string around the ground while she tries to pounce after it. A knock at the door doesn’t even pull her attention away from the toy as you let her win and catch it, standing up from your sitting position on the floor.

You open it to reveal Sam in more casual clothes than his regular tactical pants and shirt, and you return the smile he gives you.

“You busy?” He asks.

You look over your shoulder to see Alpine still pawing at the feather on the ground.

“No, I’m not busy, what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hang out, we both got the day off, figured I’d show you the best danishes in New York.”

You’re not sure if Bucky put him up to this or if this is a way to keep you from going batshit being stuck in your room not being able to do anything, but you accept the offer anyway. It’ll be nice to get some air.

“Do you, uhm,” You begin, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“What’s up?” Sam asks, the guy from the VA coming out, encouraging you to tell him.

“Do you know if Bucky’s okay? I haven’t heard from him, is all.” You ask, slipping on some shoes and heading back out into the hallway with Sam.

“I mean, I’m sure he’s fine, why wouldn’t he be?”

“Just that I know these solo missions can be anywhere and he could be doing anything, but I still worry. I didn’t know if you knew where he was or anything.”

He doesn’t. He doesn’t know, because Bucky told him Steve asked him for a few favors and he needed some off time for a couple of days. He thought Bucky was in rural New York. There’s no mission. But he supposes he’s not supposed to tell you that.

“Yeah, I don’t know much about it. Fury’s probably the one behind it.” Fury’s in Florida for his niece’s sixth birthday. He doesn’t tell you that either.

Luckily you accept it and enter the elevator to leave the private floor and go to the common area, able to leave out the backway of the tower.

“Avenger in the building, Captain.”

Sam doesn’t understand. Avenger? Who’s even around anymore?

“Uh, huh? Bucky?”

“No, Captain.”

“Clint?”

“No.”

“Who’s here?”

“Underoos.”

Underoos? Where has he heard that? Isn’t that -

The elevator doors open to the common room, a teenage boy stands with his back towards the two of you. His head whips around in typical teenage fashion and your eyebrows shoot up, unaware that the Avengers recruited teenagers.

“Is that a fucking kid?”

“Peter?” Sam asks, clearly surprised at the boy being in front of him. He hasn’t seen him in years. He wasn’t even sure where he was all this time, assuming he was in school, with his Aunt, but now he’s here.

“Sam! And his lady... friend. How are you?!”

“The lady friend has a name.” You chirp.

“What are you doing here?”

You and Sam speak at the same time. Peter addresses you first, “And your name is…?”

“Uh, Agent 51.” You didn’t think that through.

“Weird name, but alright.”

“Peter.” Sam brings his attention back to his question.

“Who is this guy?” You ask, clearly lost on who this person is and how he’s an Avenger.

“This is Spider-Man.” Sam tells you nonchalantly.

“Uh- Sam?!” Peter exclaims.

“What, she works with us, now. She doesn’t have anyone to tell anyway.”

“Sam?!” You elbow him.

“Why are you here, Peter.” Sam asks again.

“Well, you know, I was in school, doing some stuff here and there for Hill and Fury, and I figured I’d stop by.” He smiles.

You and Sam stare in silent confusion.

“Okay, look. I feel… lost. Like I feel like I’ve come to terms with Tony dying and stuff, but, I don’t know...” Peter finally cuts to the point.

You know very little about Spider-Man. You definitely didn’t know he was a kid, but you also didn’t know that he had some sort of a close relationship with Tony Stark. You’re becoming more and more like Bucky everyday; not knowing who any of these people are, not remembering seemingly important events, hell, not even knowing have these things happened because you were under Hydra.

“Peter, we don’t -”

“I’m not asking for help. More so asking if you have anything for me to do, or something.” His smile falls. You’re definitely confused, but you feel for the guy. You remember feeling lost as a teenager, losing the people you looked up to. And that lost feeling landed you in the Marines and the Marines landed you with a terrorist organization. We should help him, you immediately think.

“I’m sorry, man.” Sam offers. He wants to help Peter, as annoying as he finds him. Being a teenager is hard, and being Spider-Man is harder. But, Sam can’t forget that he’s still a kid in school with only his aunt and a few friends around him. He doesn’t want to put a person like that in the immense danger they throw themselves into, even if he knows he can handle it.

“No worries, I’ll be on my way, then.” Peter nervously scratches at his eyebrow.

“Sure you don’t want to stick around here for a bit? I know the Avengers aren’t much of a thing anymore, but, you always got a room here; a place to stay.” Sam tells him, assuming Peter’s on the verge of having a sort of coming-of-age moment.

“No, no, I need to be with May. I’ll see if I can, uh, maybe stop by more often. Maybe. If that’s alright. Nice to meet you, uh, Miss 51!” He bids farewell before walking away awkwardly, leaving Sam with a sort of sullen look on his face and you still very confused.

“What was that whole thing about?” You finally break the silence as you two make your way towards the private garage elevators.

“I’ll tell you over danishes.”

Bucky plants his fist into the HYDRA soldier’s face for the sixth time, the sound of metal hitting flesh making a slushy sound with little clanks, signifying teeth hitting the floor.

“This is the last time I ask you before I kill you. Where is Bychkov, Morozov, and that fuck with metal arms?” He pants beneath the black mask and goggles, an outfit he hadn’t dawned in so long.

Your list is heavy in his pocket, he thinks about the names he’s already crossed off and few he has left. He’s not going to stop until he finds the handlers that captured you and the supposed soldier with metal arms that shot you, details you only mentioned to him once after a nightmare that he refused to ever forget.

“They… went back… to base… in Kiev. Just… north of it.” He struggles out.

One step closer. Bucky stands taller, letting the man slump on the ground, and he reaches for the knife at his thigh.

“Wait! I - I told you… where they went!”

“I was going to kill you whether you told me or not, you Nazi fuck.” Is all he says before he slashes the knife, ending the bastard’s life.

Leaving the man’s home, he rounds a corner into the night and replaces his knife, taking out a pen in one of his many pockets as well as your list.

He crosses off Antonov, looking down at the four remaining names, two of which were the men that did this to you.

He takes a breath, the layers of leather and kevlar straining over his muscles as he sighs. He never thought he’d be hunting people down like this, Nazi or not. He never thought he’d have this black mask and these goggles over his eyes. But he also never thought HYDRA would touch the love of his life the way they did; never thought they’d put you in that chair.

So, now, he’s only getting revenge. It’s the least he can do after this organization has stolen his life, kept him from seeing his family forever, took his arm, gave him PTSD, gave his girlfriend PTSD and injected her with who knows what only to put her in that goddamn chair.

While he never thought he’d be in this position, they asked for it, and he’s not sorry.

On to the next name.

[writing-for-amusement]

Commission for Confidence, 11

Summary:  Y/N has been struggling with her self-esteem for years. After incessant pushing from your best friend, Y/N decides to commission an artist to draw her, expecting everything to happen via Internet. However, when your phone is stolen, you try to cancel the commission, but Peter Parker has other ideas. He quickly becomes enraptured by you, and a friendship forms easily. Will it lead to something more? Or will your past fears get in the way?

A/N: The long awaited chapter! I’m so sorry, you guys, I know that I left a lot of you waiting. This semester completely wiped out everyone I know (even people that attend other universities have been like, ‘yeah this semester was the worst’), and I’m really going to try to get stuff out during break! This chapter might not be as long as I wanted it to be, but I figured, why not give you guys something with actual substance? (It didn’t have much in the way of substance until like 10 minutes ago lmaoooo) Anyways, here it is, let me know what you think and what you think should happen next!

Also, I’m taking some one-shot requests! Send me an ask; I’d prefer if they were winter/holiday themed, just for the heck of it, but you can ask for anything! (Send me nsfw requests tbh, I’m raring to write some)

As always, a strikethrough means that the tag didn’t work

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Word Count: 3529

Warnings: some minor injury stuff, cuteness, some fluff, some anxiety/self-esteem things (v minor), things get a little steamy

Two weeks later, you were mostly healed, and you had been talking to Peter nearly nonstop. You had been able to meet up for coffee very briefly, and occasionally he would send you the works in progress he was creating to get some feedback. Peter also gave you written updates about your commission, but he hadn’t sent you any drafts.

You were getting ready to go to bed on a Wednesday when someone knocked on the window of your fire escape. Quickly grabbing your steel baseball bat, you hesitantly walked from your bedroom to your living room. Your other hand was holding your phone, poised to call the police. But your fear was unnecessary.

Spider-Man was waiting next to your window, his eyes widening as he saw you approach. You could tell that he was grinning at you, and you made sure to obviously roll your eyes at the superhero. Instead of unlocking the window, you stood next to it and feigned thinking about letting him in.

Spider-Man tapped again, and you could tell, just on instinct, that he was pouting at you. So, you gave in, unlocking the window and opening it for him.

“Thanks,” he said with the weird voice changer. “Thought I’d freeze out there.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed playfully, “it’s not that bad. I’m sure you generate a lot of body heat anyway, especially with that suit.”

“Maybe,” he chirped. “You tell me.”

Then, he was wrapping you in his arms in a hug, and your brain briefly short circuited. After a moment of thought, you hugged him back, trying to calm your pounding heart, and trying to register if he did run hot.

He did run hot, and as you didn’t want to move away, you cursed yourself for being touch starved all the damn time.

 “You do,” you said into his chest, your voice muffled.

“That’s what I thought. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t cold,” he stated happily, not moving to let you go. His heartbeat was steady in your ear, and the longer he was wrapped around you, the more he seemed to relax.

“You alright, Spider-Man?” you found yourself asking.

“Yeah,” he sighed slightly, shifting a bit. “Just tired, you know? There isn’t too much crime going on lately, but that makes it feel like the other shoe is about to drop, ya feel?”

You huffed a chuckle into his chest and tilted your head up to look at him. “I understand what you mean.”

“What about you? How are things going with that guy you told me about?”

You sighed into his chest lightly before saying, “He’s one of my best friends.”

“But?”

“I don’t know, Spider-Man, that’s all I’ve got. I really like him, he’s a wonderful friend and a wonderful person. I doubt he’d be romantically interested in someone like me.”

“Not this again,” Spider-Man groaned slightly. “You’re wonderful, Y/N.”

"I know that,” you told him. “But I think he’d be more interested in someone else.”

“You don’t know that.”

You shrugged again, finally pushing away from him. “Like I said before, people aren’t really interested in me.”

“You don’t know that, either.”

“You don’t know that people are romantically interested in me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow. “Other than the statistical probability, how do you know? Huh, Spider-Man?”

“I’m interested in you,” he said quietly, almost sheepishly.

You blinked in surprise before letting out a laugh that you hoped would mask your pounding heart. “Thanks, Spider-Man. That actually does make me feel a bit better. Do you want some water or something?”

As you turned to go into the kitchen, Spider-Man grabbed your hand and essentially twirled you into his chest. You looked up at him in surprise as he tilted his head down to press your foreheads together.

“I mean it,” he admitted softly.

Your heart pounded in your veins as you placed your hands on his chest. He was so familiar somehow, so comforting. You were unsure of how to react and your skin felt like it was on fire, so you did the most logical thing. Tilting your head to the side a bit, you pressed a kiss to his masked cheek.

Spider-Man’s eyes, which had closed during the forehead press, opened quickly, going almost comically wide. He saw you pointedly avoiding his white gaze, your lip between your teeth nervously. After a few more moments of silence, you broke away from him and cleared your throat.

“I, um, sorry,” you stuttered slightly, walking into the kitchen. You grabbed a glass of water and gulped it down, sighing in relief as it cooled your throat.

As you turned around, you saw Spider-Man right behind you. His mask was pulled up over his nose, and you could see his lips. He stepped closer to you and your body was frozen. Your heart, however, was setting your skin on fire.

Spider-Man pressed his lips against yours softly. When you responded in kind, he was suddenly kissing you hungrily, as if he’d wanted to for as long as he’d been alive. He wrapped strong arms around your waist and squeezed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Kissing the superhero felt so… right.

After a few more moments of passion, Spider-Man pulled away from you. What you could see of his face was flushed adorably, in an achingly familiar way. He yanked his mask back down and you could hear the difference in his breathing because of the voice altering device he had in his mask.

It did hurt a little bit, in the corner of your heart, that he still wouldn’t use his real voice with you when you had just been making out, but you pushed it away. Swallowing dryly, you felt like the world was just a little sharper.

“I, um, I’m so sorry,” he stuttered. “There’s a… big thing going on right now, a robbery. I have to go, I’m so sorry, I promise I don’t kiss and run.”

Words were escaping you, so you simply nodded. He beamed at you through the mask before pressing a kiss to your forehead and hurrying to the window. After wrenching it open, he was gone into the night.

You stared after him for a few moments before you slowly made your way to the window. The cool air wafted over your burning skin; you savored the moment of relief as you filed the event away in your mind.

Shutting the window, you went to a cold, empty bed. Alone.

 The next few days were uneventful. You went to work, ate food. You texted Peter, even talked for a few hours on the phone for no reason, but that was it. Nothing major happened, and Spider-Man didn’t visit you.

 On Saturday night, you were curled up on your fire escape and reading a book in the light of your reading lamp. You were aware that it was getting late, but you were too engrossed in your book to really care. Not only that, but you were incredibly comfortable under your fuzzy blanket.

A body landed on your fire escape and you let out a yelp of surprise, scrambling to your feet and holding your hand over your chest. The body was still in the shadows, but you raised your large book in your hands to throw, just in case.

A weak chuckle made its way to your ears on the wind. “It’s me,” Spider-Man said.

“Jesus Christ, Spidey!” you swore, taking the two steps needed to be closer to him.

He chuckled again, the voice changer off and making him sound too familiar. “Hope you don’t mind that I’m getting blood on your fire escape.”

“Peter?” you breathed out, helping the man to his feet. “Jesus fuck, Peter, what happened?” you slowly helped him through the window to your apartment.

“I’m surprised you’re not yelling at me for stupidity,” he told you after a wince.

“You’re bleeding,” you explained as you let him drop into a wooden chair. “I’ll yell at you when you’re not bleeding everywhere.”

He huffed out a laugh. “That makes sense.”

You shook your head and hurried to get your first aid kit, mentally pausing for a moment to thank yourself for learning how to do stitches and taking a decent amount of first aid classes.

When you got back to him, Peter had taken off his mask and his suit was loose around him. You could see the bruises and cuts covering his neck, chest, and arms. There was a bad bruise on his jawline. The pain was obvious, written all over his chest, and it hurt your heart.

You sighed as you pulled the suit down more, uncovering more bruised and cut skin. With a steady hand, even while you were completely aware that he was watching you, you cleaned the cuts. There were only a handful of them that you thought would need stitches, so for the moment you bandaged them to stop some of the bleeding.

“What happened?” you asked Peter quietly while bandaging the other cuts.

Peter hissed as you tenderly pressed on a bruise. “Had a nasty fight with Doc Ock. Thankfully, no bullets with that guy.”

You huffed slightly as you wiped some blood from his chest. “If you came to me out of the blue with a bullet and showed me your secret identity, I’d be fucking upset, I do admit. Next time,” you gave him a small smile, “if you do come with a bullet, I’ll be prepared.”

“Thanks,” Peter smiled weakly at you.

Giving him some warning, you quickly sterilized your needle and got ready for the stitches. Peter watched you through his eyelashes, barely flinching as you passed the needle through his skin. You tried to block it out, you truly did, but his gaze was so intense that you nearly messed up a stitch.

“Do I make you nervous?” Peter murmured as you finished with one set.

“Do you want an honest answer, or do you want a lie?” you asked, glancing up at him only briefly. You started to stitch up another cut on his chest.

“Honesty, always.”

“Yes,” you said quietly.

“Why?”

“Do I make you nervous?” you asked instead.

“Yes.”

“Why?” you asked, finishing a stitch.

“Because you’re amazing.”

You scoffed and did another stitch. A few more, and you’d be done. You were a little surprised that you were so good at them, but perhaps because it was so methodical, you were doing better with it. Still, no matter what, you were glad you were almost done.

As you finished, wiping off the last bit of blood, Peter’s gentle hand raised your chin to look at him. He smiled at you, but his eyes were serious.

“Y/N,” he murmured, “you are amazing.”

You gave him a small, disbelieving smile, and moved back from him. “Let’s get you some ice for those bruises, and some water. Are you hungry?”

“No,” he said quietly, “not really at all. I’ll take that water, though.”

You hummed in acknowledgement and hurried to the kitchen. Preparing the ice bags, you wrapped them in some tea towels. Then, after pouring a glass of water, you carefully balanced everything in your arms and walked back out.

Peter had moved to the couch, his suit discarded, and was only in his boxers. You carefully kept your eyes from tracing down his body while you handed him all of the ice packs. He let out small hisses as he placed them on the most prominent bruises, before taking the glass and sitting back. It took him all of thirty seconds to down the glass and place it on the floor.

“Sit with me?” he asked gently.

You sat next to him, careful to put a bit of space between the two of you. Peter seemed upset at that, and instead gently tugged you over to him. Rather ungracefully, you fell into his side. Even though he winced with pain, he squeezed you closer to him.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering with sleep. “You’re my favorite.”

You huffed with amusement and felt sleepiness come over you too. You wrapped your arms around him and snuggled into his chest. He hummed, the vibrations ringing through his chest almost like a purr, and you both quickly fell asleep.

 You woke up a few hours later, noting how early it was. Peter was awake and watching you both sleepily and intensely, if that was even possible. He gave the plush of your hip a squeeze with his large hand before rearranging the both of you.

Peter slid you over his body while shifting to lay on his back. He settled you on top of his chest, staring up at you, before wrapping his arms back around your waist. Then, he turned his head slightly and fell back asleep, even snoring lightly.

As easy as that!

You kept your scoff to yourself and decided to instead live with what was going on. After snuggling into his bare chest, you hesitantly pressed a kiss to his heated skin.

At that moment, you were glad he was asleep.

You weren’t sure what to do with these pesky feelings of yours. Truth be told, you couldn’t even be sure if Peter returned those feelings; you hoped he did, but past experiences warned you to never, ever assume.

Then again, he had kissed you…

But then again (again), he had only kissed you as Spider-Man.

And he ran. Well, he ran to fight crime, but still.

“Maybe he only kissed you to make a point,” that voice in your head whispered.

“I can feel you thinking right now,” Peter’s sleepy voice mumbled.

“Sorry,” you muttered, tucking into yourself a bit.

“What’s on your mind?” he breathed.

“I don’t want to ruin your sleep.”

“You could never ruin anything.”

“You’d be surprised,” you muttered bitterly, sighing a bit.

“C’mon, what is it? You’ll never get to sleep if you don’t tell me about it.”

You sighed and sat up, crossing your legs and hunching over slightly. “I just… don’t know how to deal with it.”

Peter slowly sat up as well, wiping the side of his face. “How to deal with what?” he asked as he stifled a yawn. After a moment of looking at you closely, he took one of your hands and scooted closer.

“Deal with my feelings,” you admitted softly as you quickly glanced at him and away.

“Which feelings?” he asked, matching your tone.

This was it. It was time to take the plunge and tell him.

“I know that we’ve only known each other for several weeks, but… I really like you. A-and if you don’t, that’s okay, really! I just… don’t know how to handle it because you’re so cute and handsome and sweet and nice and funny, and fuck, I just… I don’t know.”

Peter blinked slowly at you as you avoided your gaze. “I kissed you,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah, but you were Spider-Man, there could have been all sorts of factors for that.”

He seemed shocked at that sentence, and you closed your eyes to prepare for the inevitable. You prepared for him to laugh, or to tell you it was a joke, or to leave.

Instead, Peter leaned forward, cupped your cheeks in his hands, and pressed a long kiss to your lips. It wasn’t chaste but it wasn’t deep, and it made you feel as if all was right with the world. It was the best kiss of your life.

Peter drew back and you slowly opened your eyes. His gaze was warm and comforting; one hand moved down to cup your neck, while his other thumb passed lightly over your lips. You pressed a small kiss to it, making Peter beam.

You thought he was going to say something. He didn’t.

He simply moved forward again and kissed you deeply.

Feeling as though you could be contributing more to the experience, you let your hands move, sliding them to his shoulders and then around his neck. He let out a hum of happiness as you pulled him even closer to you, and Peter took that as permission to kiss you with more fervor than the previous two.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you melted further into him. One of his hands slid down from your neck to your hip, giving you a soft squeeze exactly as he nipped your bottom lip. Letting out a small whimper, you tangled a hand in his hair.

Peter let out the most delicious growl as you did, surging forward and carefully lowering you to the couch. Your leg wound around his torso as he perched himself over you, his lips only moving from yours briefly. He ran his tongue across your lips, urging you to open your mouth, which you gladly did.

You felt like you were on fire, in the best way possible. Still, your mind was racing, and you were starting to feel overwhelmed by all the emotions. The next time he nipped at your lip, you regretfully pulled away.

Adorably, Peter followed your lips slightly, making your heart skip. As you pulled back a bit more, though, he sat back slightly, his eyes overflowing with concern.

“A-are you okay, is everything okay, did I do something you didn’t like?” he blurted in a panic, starting to move back from you.

You quickly grabbed his face in your hands and pressed a small, gentle kiss to his lips. “Everything you did, I loved, okay? I enjoyed it very much. It’s just… so much right now. It’s almost like everything is firing at once, and I love it, it’s just that I think I need to breathe,” you reassured him.

Peter let out a sigh of relief and leaned a bit closer to you. “Is this okay?” he asked in a whisper as he put his forehead on yours.

You hummed and nodded, inhaling and exhaling slowly. Slowly, your heartbeat began to return to normal and the world came back from the sharp yet soft glow it had taken on after Peter kissed you.

After a handful of minutes just sitting with your foreheads pressed together, you opened your eyes again. Peter seemed calm, the serenity on his face warming your heart even more than his kisses from earlier. You moved your hand to rest lightly on his knee, only to be shocked by something vaguely cold and squishy.

Looking down, you erupted into laughter. Peter’s eyes flew open, concern etched into his eyebrows. As you leaned back with laughter, you held up the melting ice pack.

Peter blinked before he laughed, pulling one out from behind his back. That made it all the more amusing to you, and both of you were laughing for a good three minutes.

As your laughter came to an end, you felt yourself being pulled into Peter’s arms. He cradled you to his chest, nuzzling your neck with a hum.

“Peter,” you chuckled, “it’s late. We should go to sleep.”

“Hm,” he pretended to consider your suggestion. “Alright, let’s go!”

As you prepared to climb out of his arms, Peter stood up easily. You, obviously, followed his body upwards. You flinched in surprised, clearly not used to being in the air. With an incredulous look, you stared at Peter’s face while he walked to the bedroom.

“Peter!” you nearly shrieked. “Put me down! I’m too heavy!”

“Not at all,” he said simply, not allowing you to budge.

“No, seriously, Peter, I’m too heavy!” He stopped walking at that point.

“You are lighter than an ice cube, don’t worry. Do I look like I’m struggling?”

Your arguments died on your lips as you realized that he didn’t even look close to breaking a sweat. As you grew quiet, Peter slowly began to walk again. As you looked up at him, at his jawline, your hand came up to cup his chin. He grinned down at you and squeezed you a bit before reaching out to open the bedroom door.

As he crossed the threshold of your bedroom, you stretched up slightly and pressed a kiss underneath his jaw.

A dark, delicious growl left Peter’s mouth as he looked down at you with a smirk. Then, he gently tossed you onto your bed, where you landed with surprise on your back. You propped yourself up on your elbows almost immediately.

You blinked up at him and he growled again, only for it to dissolve into a whine as he flopped onto his back next to you. Peter’s fluffy hair made you chuckle, and he opened an eye to look at you as you turned on your side, a hand propping your head up.

With a smile (and the echoes of those growls in your mind), you gently began to pet his fluffy brown curls. “What’s wrong?” you murmured.

Peter let out a similar whine and threw his forearm over his eyes. After a few moments, he admitted, “If you keep looking at me like that, or touching me like that… it’ll be hard to keep myself from absolutely devouring you and making you scream my name.”

[madmadmilk]

(sending this to u because u always do amazing things with these little drabbles i send u) i'm staying with my cousin atm and her 3 daughters are kids and loooove Spider-man, and i'm just imagining bringing Tom home to meet the fam or to a fam wedding or smth and introducing him to them, and him being so good with how excited they get that their cousin is dating actual Spider-man!!!!!!

oh, WORD, lmao. i imagine that you would wait a while to tell your (extended) family about tom, just cos of the rumors and the fact that... you weren’t sure how long it would all last. you were just along for the ride, and you thought he was too until––

you bring him to you cousin’s wedding, not saying anything other than the fact that you were bringing a “plus one.” that definitely stirred up some fanfare, but your family was happy for you.

“everyone is going to recognize me,” tom boasted, beaming as you straightened his tie. he doesn’t mind the spotlight on this occasion, he’s happy to become a bigger part of your life. you’re entering new territory together, and he actually feels well equipped for this.

“oh, don’t remind me,” you groan, playfully patting his chest. “i’m gonna have to play bodyguard all night!”

and that is how you expected it to go, for your family to be shouting and yelling that Tom fucking Holland was here! in the middle of nowhere! with YOU! (you kinda worried that it would take attention away from your cousin’s day but–– i mean, come on, it’s spider-man!) you pictured the unrelenting lines of people asking for photos and autographs, which you would both have to turn down (for the most part). you both had smug prideful grins, washed over with a layer of tiredness. you were together at least :)

but get this..... 

no one.... recognized him. you introduced him as tom, and he was courteous, gorgeous, charming, shining–– but everyone just shook his hand, smiled, called him handsome and left. leaving the both of you a little more stunned than you’ve been in a while.

like, first of all, that’s spider-man, and hello?? you finally brought someone home to meet the family?? what is this apathy right now????

kinda lame?? tbh

you and tom make yourselves feel better by saying that this is your cousin’s wedding, and that he or you should not be the spotlight of the night. he hugged your shoulders and kissed your forehead humming,

“maybe we can actually... enjoy tonight. like a normal couple.”

you laugh together, both of you so tense and prepared that, you forgot to savor the moment of relaxation. everyone welcomed you both so warmly, and there’s good food and good music–– you could take this time to let loose and enjoy one another.

in time, you dragged him all over to introduce him to family, friends, friends of family, family of friends–– and everyone was cheery and polite. no wandering eyes or curiosity though. 

you and tom talked amongst yourselves in disbelief,

“your family watches movies right?”

“... i think so?”

and you broke into a fit of laughter together again, while tom’s eyebrows furrowed. usually, “the validation of the public” doesn’t wound his ego too much, but this was your family. these were people he wanted to impress. you squeeze his hand tight in yours and lean your head against his shoulder.

“huh, tough crowd.”

“I’ve been saying that all my life.”

you hug him gently and get ready to change the topic, until you hear the peep of little voice behind you.

“th-that’s spider-man... right?” 

“you ask them!”

“no, you!”

you and tom bite your lips, and look at each other with wide eyes–– was this finally The Moment?????? you both look over your shoulder with sly smiles.

three of your younger cousins were whispering loudly behind your seats, hands over their mouths and bright-eyed.

you wave at them to come over, and they do hesitantly, eyes on you first then glued onto your talented, beautiful partner.

tom cocked his head as you smiled warmly. he reaches over to squeeze your knee and jokes,

“that’s more like it.”

and he turned to them, lively–– and unconsciously slipping into his american accent, and entertained 3 of his biggest fans.  you see him pretend to sling webs, and stand up to carry one of them, the other clinging to his leg–– ultimately befriending them as tom, and not just spider-man.

you watch from you seat, laughing and snapping pictures (that you shouldn’t take, but who cares). it attracts some attention, people glancing towards him on the dance floor, covered in kids calling his name. tom takes time to look back at you, his wavy hair falling in disarray and cheeks pink.

“you’re doing great,” you mouth to him, flashing a dazzling smile of your own.

and you know what, your family thought so too. they watched this young man walk in beside you, tend to you, tend to your family, and return to your side at the end of the night. all with lovestruck eyes and genuine smiles.

you couldn’t ask for a better impression.

🙊🙊🙊💕

[tonystarkissist]

IronDad Bingo Fic #5

Trope: Jealousy

This was requested by an anon. Thank you for the request love!! XOXO

And... also. This was mostly written in a sleep-muddled haze, slightly highlighted by a sudden intense motivation to remove all forms of stress from my life in an attempt to finally get a restful sleep... which meant finishing this one... long... piece of craziness which to me makes kinda no sense right now. So, yeah. I hope it doesn’t suck to bad lol. If it does... oh well. I’ll embrace it.

“Hey, Pete. You know about Harley, right?” Tony spun around fancily in his chair to fix the teen in question with a contemplative raise of his brows. Peter turned away from his project momentarily to cast a glance at his mentor in response.

“Uh, that kid from Tennessee you’ve been collaborating with for, like, the past month?”

Peter hated that kid…

“That’s the one,” Tony grinned brightly. He spun in his chair again, turning back to the work he had abandoned. “He’s wanting to come down for a couple weeks to help me out on a new suit. He’s had a few promising ideas. I want you to meet him.”

Peter blinked dumbly at the admittance from the man. Mr. Stark wanted him to meet his sworn enemy? Of course, Mr. Stark didn’t know about his silent, one-sided rivalry he held with the boy he’d never even met, but… still! He’d been fighting desperately for even the tiniest amount of Tony’s attention while he’d been rather preoccupied talking to this Harley kid about their project. Who knows how far he’d have to go if the other teen actually came for a visit? Gosh, Peter could see it now… 

“Yeah, sure. When’s he coming?” Peter shrugged, hoping Mr. Stark wouldn’t catch on to the mild irritation lacing his tone.

“He’s coming next week. I thought-”

“Spring break week?!” Peter cried out, spinning in his chair to settle his mentor with a wide-eyed glare to match his flabbergasted outburst. 

“Well… yeah. I thought it’d be perfect for you two-”

“But that was the week I was staying here with you and we were going to do cool stuff together!” 

Gosh! He sounded like such a whiny baby.

Peter didn’t even know how the situation was able to make itself worse, but it had. He couldn’t believe that this prick had the audacity to waltz back into Tony’s life after who knew how many years and demand attention from him. It almost took a whole year for Mr. Stark to stop addressing him as if he were an immature, irresponsible child and invite him over to see his lab. A whole year! From the stories Peter has heard about this ‘Harley’ kid, they had barely even known each other a couple days back then! 

Gosh! And now his obnoxious rival was eating up all the attention like candy… and Tony notoriously had a limited attention span when it came to things without mechanical parts or red hair accompanied by clickity-clackity heels.

“Now Pete,” Tony lamented, summoning his practiced ‘Dad voice’. “I think this will be good for you. I’m sure you two will be good friends. And we can still do things with Harley here; he’s really smart too, you know.”

And, yes, Peter did, in fact, know that Harley was a genius too. How could he not? Tony practically told him and anyone that would listen every day. He can still remember when he was the one being bragged about by Tony Stark. Which *ahem* was before ‘Harley’ came prancing back into the genius’ life from a legit midst of nothingness.

“But c’mon,” Peter whined, “that’s like the only week I have off before school ends. And then I have to go on that summer trip… we were supposed to hang out…”

“I know Pete,” Tony sighed, almost sounding guilty, but not quite, “I know you were looking forward to it just being the two of us. Sometimes we all have to make sacrifices though kiddo. I thought that this would be a fun bonding experience for all of us. Harley’s a lot of fun.”

Peter sulked and slowly turned back to his own project while Tony continued trying to reason with him dejectedly.

“You need to get used to him eventually. He’s graduated high school and I plan on giving him a high-profile intern job with R&D. So, he’ll be around a lot.”

Intern? Intern?! Peter couldn’t believe it. He thought that reckless, brunette, genius, teen boys were just a dime in a dozen, but he supposed if anyone were to attract them it’d be Tony Stark. It was stupid of him to think that he was anything special to begin with…

***

“What’s got you all riled up this time ‘round Spider-baby?” Rhodey asked, plopping down next to him on the couch as he scribbled out numbers angrily onto his Calc homework. Tony had been too busy talking to Harley to help him out like he usually did. 

“Nothing,” he muttered, releasing a growl as he realized he’d done the whole equation wrong and immediately began running the eraser violently across the page. The thin sheet ripped dramatically, and it only fueled his anger. He seethed and struggled to not lash out as he started crumbling the paper into a tight ball.

“Ah, yes,” Rhodey chuckled slightly, “I forgot it was opposite day today.”

He probably thought he was sooo funny.

“It’s not. Everything’s fine.” Peter insisted, pulling out another loose sheet of paper from his binder.

“I can see that,” Rhodey mused as he watched Peter scribble the equation across the top line of the paper again.

They sat there in companionable silence as Peter tried and failed at solving the problem once again. Some genius he was. No wonder Mr. Stark preferred Harley.

“Where’s Tony?” Rhodey finally pipes up when he watches Peter fail another attempt, “Doesn’t he usually help you out with this stuff?”

“Yeah,” Peter huffed, sounding dejected. His scribbling paused and he stared down at the paper. “He’s busy though. Harley’s coming to visit and they’re sorting it all out.”

“I see,” Rhodey admits, nodding his head. “Well, I’m no genius like Tony, but I know my way around numbers. I didn’t go to MIT for nothing kid. Let me take a crack at it.”

Peter’s eyes light up momentarily at the offer of some much-needed help and he eagerly handed the paper over.

“We just started doing differentials, and my teacher didn’t tell us how to do all the weird e’s and natural logs.”

“Oh, that’s easy. Lookie here kiddie…”

***

Peter savored the last few moments he had with his mentor before Harley arrived. They were both waiting at the airport for him, because apparently Harley’s mother was extremely insistent that Tony didn’t just hand off the responsibility to one of his lackeys. Apparently, neither Harley nor his family had ever been outside of Tennessee, so both were somewhat nervous with the spontaneous vacation.

“I’m totally dreading having to do those assignments Mr. Stark,” Peter spieled, hoping to get in as much as he could before the genius’ attention was inevitably averted to the new teen intern arriving in the next few minutes. “It’s like I don’t already do enough homework during the school year. They just have to hand out packets of work that we haven't even covered yet.”

“I can see how that would be a problem,” Tony chuckled, “Maybe I can hel- Look there he is!” Tony points at a mass of bodies coming through the gate exits. Peter immediately spots a tall, lanky teen boy, and he gulps at the striking similarities between them. No wonder Tony liked Peter so much… he probably reminded the man of Harley. Tony and Harley go farther back than he and Peter did… no wonder.

“Hey kid,” Tony smiled, looking excited as the older boy hurried up to the waiting pair. 

“Hey old man. How’s it hanging? Long time no see.” Harley laughed and didn’t even hesitate to throw his arms around the man’s neck in a friendly hug, and to Peter’s utter and complete surprise… Tony hugged him too, with a friendly - not at all awkward - pat on the back to go with it!

“Stop calling me old you brat,” he teased, clapping him on the back and pulling away from the hug to get a fresh look at him. “Look at you kid. I remember when you were just an annoying little toddler of a child.”

“Yeah, well, what did you expect after 7 years?”

7 years?? He was practically the same age as Peter! And he was done with high school? Oh goodness, how was he supposed to top that?

“Whatever,” Tony muttered lightheartedly. “Let’s go get your bags. Oh!” He turned to look at Peter as if just remembering he was there, “and this is Peter. He’s a science nerd too.”

“Replaced me already Stark?” Harley feigned hurt.

“Sure did,” Tony quipped back.

Peter’s heart hurt at that; it stuttered obnoxiously against his chest. He knew it was just a joke. He knew. That didn’t make the blow any softer though.

It only seemed to get worse from there... 

Instead of throwing his arm around Peter’s shoulders like he would usually do, Tony threw them around Harley’s instead, chatting animatedly to the young teen as they navigated their way through the throngs of people. At least Peter got a firm hand on the back of his neck to guide him so he didn’t get lost as if he were a small child. That was at least something, right?

Then, when they got to the car, Harley had immediately shouted shotgun, because he was a jerk like that. Tossing Peter a teasing look as he hopped into the front seat of the Audi. Tony just laughed as he stuffed luggage into the trunk and Peter sulked and grumbled under his breath as he climbed into the backseat, ready to endure through the excited chattering that was sure to emit from the front of the car.

When they got back to the Compound, Peter felt for a moment that things would get better, because Mr. Stark through an arm over his shoulders instead of Harley’s as they walked in… but things didn't get better. Tony told him to show Harley to the room he’d be staying in… which, conveniently, just so happened to be Peter’s room. The other guest rooms were full because the Rogues had come back along with a few added guests, and Mr. Stark for some reason thought it would be a good ‘bonding opportunity’ for them… yeah right. So, yeah, Peter would be sharing a room with his undeclared arch nemesis too. How great was that?!

Then, maybe an hour later when they headed down to Mr. Stark’s workshop, Tony and Harley were quick to get to work on their joint project while Peter went off to work with his lonesome self at his desk. It was just as Peter expected. They offered to involve Peter in the project of course, but… it just felt wrong somehow. 

And he longer he was down in the lab with nothing but his web shooters to distract his overeager mind, the longer he contemplated the angered feelings that had been accumulating in his gut since it’d been declared that Harley would be coming for an impromptu visit. The more he thought, the more the guilt began to replace the anger. And the more guilt he felt, the more he realized how much of a clingy, selfish child he’d been acting.

Mr. Stark wasn’t his Dad. Mr. Stark didn’t have to give him his sole attention at every hour of every day. Heck, the man didn’t have to give him any attention at all, but he did. So, therefore, Peter should be grateful for what he received and not what he had to share with others, and even what could possibly be taken from him entirely. It was never his to begin with… so he had no right to get upset.

Thoughts like this continued to plague his mind, and he became a bit… panicky. 

Harley had every right to come visit.... Apparently, according to the conversations he could overhear, Tony and Harley had kept in good contact through the years. Harley didn’t have a father either. The teen had every right to imprint on Tony just like Peter had done, because the man was great. He was caring and funny, and just a bit overbearing... the perfect father in Peter's mind. He shouldn’t get jealous and declare a silent war against someone when they were simply seeking for the same comfort and validation that had been and was still seeking. It wasn’t right. It was selfish.

Peter got to see Mr. Stark almost twice a week! Harley didn’t get any of that. He got a few phone calls and facetimes, but that was it!

Why was he such a selfish, ungrateful brat? Aunt May hadn’t raised an ungrateful brat.

Peter dropped his head in his hands and sighed, trying to find at least some way to validate his feelings so he wouldn’t have to feel so guilty. He couldn’t find anything.

See… Peter wouldn’t be feeling any of this if Harley just… if he hadn’t come at all. Still, that didn’t help to quench the deep-seated guilt pooling in his stomach. He didn’t know why something that made Mr. Stark smile was making him so mad. Wait! He did know! He was selfish! Oh yeah, how could he possibly forget?

***

So, in an attempt to compensate for the unreasonable hatred he had developed towards the teen, he made extra effort to not hate him… if that made any sense. 

It seemed to work too.

Since they shared a room it was fairly easy to get to know him, because apparently Harley enjoyed having nearly an hour conversation in the dark before falling asleep at night. Peter learned a lot about him during the first night, and it turned out to be pretty easy to like him. His personality was cool and amusing; a lot like Mr. Stark’s. 

Peter made an extra effort to be nice and happy the next day too. Things went about the same way, except towards the end of the night, they watched a quick movie before bed.

Then, on the second night, things got a little deeper… Harley asked about Peter’s parents and how he came to know Tony, and, well… Peter told him. Which led to Peter asking Harley a similar question, due to the specifics social edicate. Peter empathized with him instantly, especially when the teen shyly admitted his embarrassing dependence he’d acquired towards the genius after only a month of near constant contact, and how grateful he was for the time he was able to spend with him. That wasn’t something to ease the guilt in Peter’s stomach at all, but it definitely gave Peter a more mature view on the matter. He got a new friend out of it too.

The next day, though, Peter caught on to something rather unnerving. 

He had spent so much time worrying that Harley was going to steal time away from Mr. Stark that he hadn’t realized how much time he was actually stealing away from Harley. He hadn’t really noticed the fact that Mr. Stark was somewhat of a mother hen and took every available opportunity to check on him and make sure he was doing okay. He’d been blinded by his jealousy before, and perhaps a little peevish the past couple days after realizing that he was actually the one in the wrong, but yeah! Mr. Stark wouldn’t stop fussing over him every hour or so, even when he was in the midst of a detailed planning stage with Harley. Peter got a glimpse of the frustration that flickered across the other teen’s face when Mr. Stark paused in their ministrations to turn and address Peter, yet again… making sure he wasn’t thirsty or hungry for lunch even though it was barely noon, for perhaps the third time that morning.

That’s what made up Peter’s mind. He could relate to Harley way too easily, and he hated the idea of the dude not being able to get the most out of his once in forever visit with his undeclared father figure. He was a nice guy, and he’d been through a lot in life too… it wasn’t right for Peter to be a constant interruption to their rare bonding time. So, he dismissed himself from the lab, apologizing to Mr. Stark for his demise, and shooting a knowing look and a ‘you’re welcome’ wink to Harley, who just rolled his eyes in response.

Mr. Stark, of course, put up immediate protest.

“Oh, c’mon kiddo. Am I being pushy again? I won’t ask anymore, I swear it. You don’t gotta go, I know I promised you we’d spend this week off school together.”

Peter flinched inwardly. He didn’t know how he could have possibly thought Tony was replacing him. The man just cared too much sometimes. He had too much care to go around to ever run out of it. His attention span may be meager, but his affection never was.

“It’s cool Mr. Stark. I gotta get a head start on that homework anyway.”

“Alright,” Tony voiced warily, watching reluctantly as Peter gathered up his things and headed for the exit, “let me know if you need help on anything.”

“Sure thing Mr. Stark,” Peter smiled sadly. 

He was doing the right thing - he knew that. It was just hard… but at the same time so liberating to know he helped another fatherless kid get to know their wished-to-be father-figure.

***

“Hey, um, Colonel Rhodes?” Peter piped up hesitantly, approaching the man in the kitchen, clutching a thick pile of paper in his hands, “I’m reviewing for my AP exam, and these practice questions are ridiculously hard. Can you help me a little bit?”

Rhodey grinned and put down his mug of coffee to accept the thick packet offered to him. “Sure kiddo let’s get setup at the dining table. This is probably gonna take a while.”

***

“Hello?” Peter peeked into the hi-tech lab, looking much different from Mr. Stark’s, with the overall cleanliness, “Mr. Bruce, Dr. Banner, sir?”

“Oh, hello, Peter,” Bruce greeted warmly, snapping his head to the side to look at the teen. “What can I do for you today?” 

“Oh, um, well I got some homework… and Mr. Stark is kinda busy… and Mr. Rhodes doesn’t know a whole lot about Chemistry…” He trailed off a bit, a bit nervous having to ask the world-renowned scientist for help on his high school homework. “An-and there’s some Biology too… it’s just kinda hard, and I was hoping that you could just explain a couple things to me?”

“Of course!” Bruce chirped eagerly, pushing displays and rolly tables out of his way as he approached Peter, “let’s take a look.”

***

“Hey, kiddo, how’re things going?” Tony asked, venturing up from the workshop after his three-day binge with Harley. Heck, Peter thinks they might have even slept down there if they had slept at all. “Sorry that I sorta abandoned you up here, we were kinda in the zone down there, weren’t we Harley?” Tony turned to the grease-stained teen beside him for confirmation. The boy nodded, laughing slightly before heading in the direction of the kitchen to retrieve some water. 

Peter smiled… his jealousy had significantly dissipated over the past three days, and he was happy for them. He’d actually had a pretty great time in Mr. Stark’s absence anyway. Of course, not quite as great as it would have been if the man had been there himself, but it was still good. So, not much room for him to complain.

“It’s okay Mr. Stark. I’m sorry I didn’t go down to visit you guys more than I did. I was just wanted to focus on my homework… it’s kinda hard to figure out on my own, y’know.”

“Well, I got some time now. Pull it out here kid,” Tony smiled, dropping down on the couch next to him, wearing an excited grin despite the bags beneath his eyes, and kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “I’ll walk you through those tricky differentials again and whatever else might’ve stumped you. I swear the education system is just getting worse every passing year-”

“It’s okay Mr. Stark, I finished it already?”

“Oh,” Tony voice rose a pitch in surprise, eyebrows raising as well, “did you want me to check answers or something on the ones you're unsure of?”

“No, it’s okay,” Peter smiled comfortingly at the man, “Mr. Rhodes helped me with my Calculus already.”

“Rhodey?” Tony spluttered indignantly, seemingly surprised by the notion. “Oh... well, what about Chemistry? You were going on and on and on the other day about the ridiculous amount of unneeded work. Did you get that finished up too?”

“Yep,” Peter nodded proudly, not quite registering the perturbed expression on Tony’s face after he said it, “Dr. Banner helped me out. He actually said I can come by tomorrow so we can go over some flash cards we made together. I need to memorize a few things, but after that I should ace the final exam easily.”

“Okay,” Tony nodded solemnly, gazing out blankly at the room while he thought, “well, I’m not excellent in the subject, but if you still need some help with the English packet, I’m-”

“It’s all good, I got Ms. Natasha to help me. She’s actually really good with languages Mr. Stark, did you know that? She speaks, like, a ton of them!”

Peter hesitated when he saw Tony grit his teeth in frustration. He wasn’t sure what he had done to frustrate the man. He had done him a favor! He left him alone so he could focus on making a bond with his newer teenage intern! He’d even done all the work so he didn’t feel required to help!

“You good Tony?” Harley asked, taking note of the engineer’s distressed face when he reappeared with two glasses of water.

“Yeah, all good kid. Just thinking about what I can do with Pete here since I’ve practically ignored him the whole week.” 

Peter smiled at the thoughtfulness, but at the same time… he really didn't want Mr. Stark to feel obligated to spend time with him.

“Hey, Pete, you ready to go kid?! I don’t got all day!” Clint suddenly appeared in the room, twirling a set of car keys on his finger. “Oh, hey Stark. How’re you and your new MiniMe getting on? I don’t think we’ve had the privilege of meeting this one.”

“This is Harley,” Tony introduced gruffly, staring the man down. “What’re you and Peter doing?”

“Oh, the kid mentioned that he hadn’t started on his hours for driving yet. He needs a ton of practice before he’s allowed to get his license apparently! So, I offered to take him for a little spin. Why? Did you need him for something? I’m sure we can postpone it until later, right Pete?”

Peter’s brows furrowed when he took in Mr. Stark’s fidgety nature, sitting rigidly on the couch, rather than his original relaxed position. 

“No, no, it’s fine. Just don’t let him kill anyone. His Aunt will never let me see him again. Stay safe kiddo.”

Then, with that, Tony shot out instructions for Harley to eat and shower before disappearing from the room himself with his head bowed slightly, muttering nonsense under his breath. Soon, only Peter and Clint were left in the room.

Peter couldn’t help but feel good at knowing he hadn’t gotten in Mr. Stark’s or Harley’s way. Of course, he was a little upset that he didn’t get to spend quite as much time with his mentor as he was hoping, but he was glad he was able to help Harley out all the same. 

***

Tony was getting pissed. It was Saturday and he and Peter still hadn’t done anything bond-y related all week. He and Harley had long since finished their project, and Peter’s empty desk was giving him the jitters. He knew what the kid was oh-so busy doing, and it made him the slightest bit angry. He didn’t understand why the kid seemed to be going out of his way to avoid him. It didn’t seem like anything was wrong when they talked!

“Hey, kid, wanna have a little training session before I head back to the lab?”

“No thanks Mr. Stark. I’m still kinda tired from my session with Steve. He’s real intense, did you know that Mr. Stark?

“Hey, buddy, want me to go out on patrol with you? Harley’s off visiting colleges right now.”

“Sorry Mr. Stark,” Peter actually looked slightly guilty for that one, “but I promised I’d help Bucky with his new computer game. I have to teach him how to set up mods… I think that might take a while. Maybe next time?”

“Hey, Pete? Wanna go out to dinner with me and Harley?”

“Can’t! Sorry Mr. Stark!” He had shouted urgently, making an effort to shove Sam over in an attempt to affect the character on screen. “In the middle of a Mario Kart tournament... Yes!”

It was driving him crazy!

“Hey, um, Tony?” Harley started out worriedly, eyeing the man from across the table, “you good?”

Tony’s grip tightened momentarily on the screwdriver as he tried to repress the accumulating frustration. It doesn’t last long, though. He throws the tool down and stares up at Harley scornfully.

“Hey, no need to get fussy at me!” Harley’s quick to defend himself, dropping his own tools to throw his hands up in defense. 

“It’s not you kid,” Tony grumbles with a slight roll of his eyes, turning his attention back to his project. 

“Is it Peter? You keep glaring at his desk…”

Tony stays silent for a moment, risking another glance up to stare at Peter’s desk a few tables down. The silence permeates in the room and for a moment Harley didn’t think he was going to say anything. Boy, was he wrong…

“Since when did he become so chummy with ‘em, huh?” The man scoffed, turning back to look at the surprised boy across from him. He dismisses the befuddled expression and keeps right on going in voicing his frustration. “I mean, c’mon! These bastards know that’s my kid, and now they’re all eating up his time when he was supposed to spend the week with me! We were gonna do all these fun projects and we haven’t done anything yet! There’s only a day left of his vacation! I was going to help him with his homework too, cuz, y’know, that’s what I do, right? I mean, it’s not too unreasonable to for them to have some manners and at least ask-”

***

“Heck, man, you better spend some time with your old man before he has a hissy fit,” Harley voices as he adjusts the sheets on the air mattress he’d been sleeping on. “Or at least another one.”

“What are you talking about Harley?” Peter laughed as he climbed onto his own bed.

Harley gives him a look.

“I’m talking about the full half-hour frustration fueled rant your Dad went on about after you turned us down for dinner. He went on and on about how you guys hadn’t done anything together the whole week. It was actually pretty funny. It looked like he was about to throw a tantrum or something.”

Peter stared at him for a moment, a little dazed by the admittance.

“Are you kidding?!” He cried dramatically, “I’ve literally been going out of my way so you guys could spend time together without me.”

“Well, why the heck would you do that?” Harley laughed, looking at him as if he were crazy.

“You need a Dad!” Peter argued defiantly, throwing his hands out to gesture in the other teen’s direction, as if he were the one to blame.

“So?” Harley scoffed, “doesn’t mean I have to steal yours… You do realize there’s this thing called sharing. It’s quite popular nowadays-”

A pillow was subsequently slammed in his face.

“Shut up,” Peter muttered a bit embarrassedly.

“Whatever,” Harley muttered, tossing the pillow back at him, “but you better get your butt down in the shop with us tomorrow. I don’t wanna deal with one of our Dad’s tantrums on my own again.”

Peter stared at him, dumbfounded, but Harley ignored him. 

The lights had long since shut off when a slow smile slowly inched across his face to replace the gob smacked hole.

It would be kinda cool to have a brother.

Oh my GOD I’m so glad I’m done with this one. Phew! I was definitely struggling! Sorry if it sucks, but thanks for reading. And thank you @irondadbingo for the card :)

[hazandholland]

Anybody but Peter. Not Peter.

Written by Christina

Category: Flangst? Fluffy Angst? Angsty fluff? Whatever you might cry from happiness or pain. Or both. Who knows.

Word count: 5,761…  I think this is my longest one. Idk I went kind of crazy

Request: “Hi can I please have a Peter Parker imagine where it takes place during the civil war battle and the reader gets crushed or drowned. And when she wakes up in the hospital peter confesses his love and kiss and then a shit ton of fluff” by @anntol2001 

Warning: Mention of blood, injuries, hospital stay, medical terms, bullying. If I missed anything else, please let me know. This is an intense one, and I don’t want to trigger or scare anyone.

A/N: This is such a long and intense fic, you guys. I also did some quick research on comas and the medical terms that went with them. But don’t worry if you don’t understand them; you can understand the fic without the terminology. I hope you enjoy the fic, though!

You ducked behind the large black cargo box as a loud explosion boomed above your head, the shock wave rattling your bones and pushing your hair over your face, covering your eye. You blew the strand out of way and stood up, grabbing one of the stun disks from your belt. You engineered them, with help from Tony and Bruce so you could disable the enemy without causing major harm, only sore muscles and maybe a moderate headache when the effect wore off. You saw Hawkeye about ten feet in front of you, launching arrows every which way, protecting a giant Scott Lang, who was battling Peter and Tony. You crossed the fingers on your empty hand as you aimed and chucked the disk at Hawkeye, aka Clint Barton. The archer saw the disk coming as it reflected a beam of sunlight directly into his eye. With his nearly inhuman speed, he fitted an arrow into his bow and launched it at the disk, shattering it. The disk exploded into a small plume of smoke and bolts of electricity.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” you groaned as Clint made eye contact with you and smirked. You barely had time to duck behind the box again he launched a stun arrow of his own. Thankfully, you had slipped out of its range in time and the arrow collided with another box in front of you. You knew Clint was going to come face you hand-to-hand since he knew your position so you bolted up and sprinted across the debris-littered airport, ducking behind a crumbled part of an airplane wing. You loved being in the heat of a good superhero battle as much as the next teenager, but you didn’t like the fact that it was because Tony and Steve couldn’t resolve their issues. They just needed to kiss and make up. Speaking of kissing, your mind floated to Peter and you hoped he was doing all right. You popped your head out from behind your cover, looking for his new blue and red suit.

You had known Peter basically your whole life. Not that you were friends since you could walk or anything. You two didn’t become friends until middle school when Flash Thompson snatched Peter’s glasses off his face and broke them. You were a few lockers down, debating on stepping in when Flash proceeded to push poor Peter into the nearest locker. You had enough and you gave Flash an earful. You didn’t want to physically fight him, but you would if you had to. Flash started to try and shove into the locker next to Peter when you managed to give Flash a split lip and a beautiful black eye. Your parents insisted you take self-defense classes when you started to ride the subway on your own to school, so a basic jab with your non-dominant hand and a hook with your dominant fist was natural. Ever since that day, you and Peter became friends and protected each other ever since.  

You had been interning at Stark Tower for about six months, so you already knew Tony. He let you tag along in the labs, conduct experiments, and supply ideas. Occasionally, Tony and Bruce let you help manufacture new less-lethal weapons for combat. When you found out Peter had his “Stark Internship”, you asked to meet up at Stark Tower sometime during one of your breaks to say hi. You weren’t expecting him to literally swing by in his Spider-Man suit, but hey, it added to his character. And that was one more reason to be protective of the boy.

So, naturally, when Tony Stark showed up randomly in Peter’s apartment the other day after school and asked if he wanted to join his team to help with the whole Steve situation, Tony invited you too. Well, it was more like you said you were going, and Tony didn’t exactly say no to you tagging along. You wanted to look out for Peter, after all. Peter had numerous protests, but you didn’t need him to look after you.

Your protective instincts took over when you saw Peter launch a web around giant Scott’s legs and began to rotate Scott’s knees, making him falter. Tony and Rhodes flew by and landed powerful uppercuts to Scott’s chin, making the giant fall. Peter whooped and hollered in triumph. Until one of Scott’s hands, flailing about, hit Peter, sending the boy flying. You gasped as you saw Peter tumble over an airplane and out of sight, followed by a series of thuds and crashes. You stood in shock for a few seconds, your heart stopping and all the air escaping your lungs. As if there was a switch in your body, your legs behind to move, making you sprint as fast as you could towards Peter’s direction. You searched behind the black cargo boxes, scanning for Peter.

“Peter,” You whispered, tears building in your eyes, blurring your vision. You look around frantically, spinning in circles.

“Peter!” You said a little louder, not caring that you were saying his real name. You were too concerned for him. He wasn’t Spider-Man, the wall-crawler from New York City. He was Peter Parker, the little boy with the glasses two sizes too big, the teenager with the brain that can understand calculus and quantum mechanics better than the teacher, the boy with the nerdy jokes and the nervous stutter. He was your Peter Parker. And he was hurt. Tears fell down your cheeks as you ran more, looking behind the boxes.

Anybody but Peter. Not Peter.

You found him after looking behind at least six boxes. His legs were sticking out from behind one of the cargo boxes. You sprinted faster than you ever have before towards him. Your legs got tangled up with each other and you fell. You felt something hit your jaw and your momentum made you skid across the rough concrete. You felt like your palms had witnessed a few swipes of sandpaper across them and your jaw stung a little, but you didn’t think about them as you looked at the limp boy beside you.

Peter was laying on his side, his arms slightly curled around himself. His mask had ridden up his face, revealing his cheek and part of his eye, nose, and mouth. He was motionless. Your mind was reeling so fast and your heart was pounding so fast that you couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not. You gulped. You needed to know if he was alive. Of course he was alive. He was just hurt. More tears fell down your face. Peter was hurt. You gathered up your courage and hesitantly reached your hand out, gently touching his shoulder, bracing yourself to roll him over.

Anybody but Peter. Not Peter.

As soon as your fingers grazed his shoulder, he lurched up, flailing his arms about, trying to slap his attacker as his legs tried to get him as far away from you as possible.

“No no no no no! Get away from me!” Peter yelled, managing to push you, making you land on your rear.

“Peter! It’s me, you dummy! It’s me! Y/N!” You said loudly, looking at the frantic boy. He froze as soon as he heard your name. He scrambled to his knees and ripped his mask off. His gorgeous curly hair tumbled around his face as he stared at you, wide-eyed. His pink lips were parted as he panted and his pupils were dilated from fear. You sat still, breathing hard yourself as you took him in. His suit was intact; no tears or rips. He had a bruise forming on his eye, but other than that, he appeared to be in one piece. You sighed in relief. Your Peter was safe.

“Y/N,” Peter breathed, his eyes softening. Well, as soft as they could get with the adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream. He scooted over to you. He towered over you slightly, with him on his knees and you sitting down. He reached a gloved hand out and rested it on your neck, thumb grazing your jaw as he smiled and breathed out a sigh of relief. You wondered what his lips would feel like against yours. You blinked, trying to shove the thoughts out of your head. You’re just Peter’s friend, right?

“You’re here.” He said softly, looking at you with wonder. You felt your cheeks heat up and you knew they were as bright as cherries. You looked away, not wanting to leave his touch totally. Peter began to run his hands over the rest of your neck, over your scalp, shoulders and down your arms to your hands. Your heart pounded at his gentle, loving touch. The most you and Peter ever did was the occasional hug after an emotional or mental breakdown and daily high-fives. This was completely different and you didn’t want it to end. You closed your eyes, savoring his tough.

“Hey, you’re bleeding,” Peter said, fear rising in his voice. You opened your eyes, feeling your brow crinkle as you reached your own hand up and ran it along your jawline. Your fingers felt broken skin and fire shot through your jaw. You hissed and retracted your hand. You looked the boy again. You watched his face show shock, concern, fear, and anger within a short second. His jaw clenched and he looked you deep in the eyes as he gripped your shoulders, painfully tight.

“What happened? Who did this? Are you hurt anywhere else? What happened?” Peter’s rapid-fire questions made your brain overload; you’ve never seen Peter like this. He was always gentle with you. He knew how strong he was, so he rarely laid a hand on you to avoid any catastrophes. His grip on your shoulders made you wince and your eyes widen.

“I tripped,” You whispered, staring at the boy, wide-eyed. “I was running and I…Can you let me go?…” Peter released your arms and rested them on his knees, his expression not changing.

“Are you hurt anywhere else,” Peter said shortly. You knew it was a question but his voice was so dark it didn’t sound like one. You shook your head, looking at the ground. The sound of Tony’s Iron Man suit clanking against the ground as he landed broke the moment between the two of you. The billionaire’s mask and helmet were off, revealing a bloody and concerned face.

“Kid,” Tony breathed, fear evident in his voice. “You alright?”

Peter nodded, his previous anger gone. His shoulders dropped and he was the awkward, shy boy you knew. “Y-y-y-yeah, I’m f-fine, Mr. Stark.” Tony let out a little sigh of relief. When he saw you sitting on the ground next to Peter, Tony’s eyes darted between Peter and you. You gulped and felt the heat rise to your cheeks again. Tony smirked a little before his helmet and mask clicked back into place.

“You’re out, kid,” Tony said, nodding towards Peter. His voice was a little echoey because of the suit. He fired up his arc reactors and he started to hover a few feet above the ground. “Meet you at the hotel. Don’t leave till I get back.” With that, Tony flew off towards the battle. Peter raised his hand and shouted after Tony.

“Hey, hey I’m fine! I can-” He tried to get up, but he groaned and gripped his stomach, falling over. “Okay nevermind, I’ll stay here.” You giggled and leaned forward to see the battle. Scott was normal size, but sitting on the stairs of the private jet eating something. Nat and Clint were sparring on the other side of the jet. Tony, Rhodes, and Falcon were dive-bombing each other in the sky. Steve and Bucky were hiding behind some cargo crates about a hundred yards from you and Peter. You could see by the way their bodies were angled that they were trying to get to the hanger bay. You sighed, then stood up. You rolled your shoulders and neck, getting all your muscles loose. You should help stop them.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Peter said, darting to his feet and grabbing your arm. He groaned a little and stumbled, almost pulling you to the ground. You gasped and somehow managed to wrap your arms around Peter, keeping him upright. His face was contorted a little in pain as he looked at you. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You let out a little sigh, the shock and fear wearing off. You felt ready to jump back into the fight. Peter was all right, and that was all that mattered.

“Back to the fight, silly,” You said. Peter’s eyes widened and he grabbed your shoulders.

“No! You’re not going back there! You could barely even walk or whatever without getting hurt. You’re not jumping into a fight with superheroes!” Peter protested, his grip on you tightening. You bit back a groan and crouched down, letting Peter sit on the ground.

“Yeah, I’m going back into the fight. A few scrapes won’t stop me, Parker,” You said, a little irritated.

“You’re not going,” Peter said, staring you with his jaw set again. You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh really?” You taunted, feeling a smirk tug on your lips. “Try and stop me.” You rolled backward, executing a reverse somersault and jumped onto your feet, tucking a strand of hair behind your ears while you started running towards the fight. “See ya, Parker!” As you darted between the boxes, you heard Peter yelling for you. The boy was sweet, but he didn’t need to look after you all the time. You could handle yourself. You scanned for Steve and Bucky as you ran. You saw them about thirty feet from you. You grabbed a couple of the stun disks from your belt and let out a deep breath as you stopped, held your arms back then launched them forward, spinning the disks in one smooth motion. Each disk hurtled toward Steve and Bucky. Unfortunately, Steve saw the disks coming and threw his shield over him and Bucky.

Thank goodness Steve’s shield was metal. Metal was an excellent conductor. The electricity from the stun disks spread across the shield in arching blue and white bolts. Steve grunted and his legs crumbled, making him fall to the ground.

“Steve!” You heard Bucky shout as he crouched next to his comrade. Steve twitched as the electricity coursed through him, until the disk did its job and left Steve on the ground, motionless.

You started sprinting to them, hoping you could catch them off guard enough to get a few punches in. You were about ten feet away when you grabbed another disk and launched it at Bucky. The super soldier saw it coming though and dodged out of the way. You let your momentum help you out as you jumped, leaping over Steve and threw a leg out, aiming for Bucky’s sternum. The soldier dodged again and your feet collided with the cargo crate. Pain rattled through your leg as you grunted, landing on the balls of your feet, fists up, ready to face Bucky.

He was a few yards away from you, on the balls of his feet but hands at his sides. You knew he wouldn’t try very hard. He had no problems fighting a woman if need be, but he did have problems with fighting too hard and almost killing someone. That was what he was trained for. You were trained to stun and immobilize, but Bucky was trained to kill. At least you had that knowledge on your side as you circled Bucky, trying to back him into a corner.

“Y/N,” Bucky said, holding his hands out a little as he rotated with you, backing away. His back was to the corner, but there was still a lot of side room for him to escape. You need him back farther. You started stalking forward, reaching a hand down to grab your stun disks. Maybe if you hit his animatronic arm…

You didn’t even think to double-check that Steve was unconscious. The thought never crossed your mind as you felt something hard collide into your back, sending you tumbling forward. You shrieked a little as you skid, your already scraped palms grating against the concrete again. You landed on your back and as you rolled onto your side, you saw two streaks of blood from where your hands hit the ground to where they were now. You groaned and slowly stood up. Steve and Bucky were nowhere to be seen. You crinkled your brow in confusion as you looked around, searching for them. You spotted them; about a hundred yards from you, sprinting towards the hanger bay. You starting jogging towards them, the motion jarring your sore leg and now your sensitive back. You bit back a groan and pushed into a sprint. You heard whooshing overhead and saw Tony still battling Sam. You glanced at where Clint and T’Challa were dueling. Wanda and Vision were having a showdown. Peter was down for the rest of the fight, and you knew Nat was hiding somewhere, so it looked like it was just you.

Well, at least Peter’s not in this situation.

You sprinted as fast as you could, trying to catch the two super soldiers. No one had noticed that they were heading to the hanger bay and they were just jogging, so you were fairly close to them in a reasonable amount of time. You were nearly out of breath as you reached for two more stun disks in your fists, trying to figure out where you want them to go down. You decided right before the hanger bay was good, so you launched both disks at the soldiers.

You missed. You simply missed.

Steve and Bucky wheeled around, skidding to a stop as they saw you sprinting towards, red-faced with fatigue and embarrassment. You had to miss. The two men turned on their heels and sprinted towards the hangar bay. You saw a quinjet sitting in the middle of the bay, unguarded and ready for takeoff. You knew you weren’t going to catch them on your own. You needed help.

“Tony!” You yelled at the top of your lungs. “Hanger bay! Now!” You glanced up when you heard Tony fly over to you, straight for Steve and Bucky, who were now running as fast as they could. You saw Sam swoop down in Tony’s blind spot and before you could warn Tony, Sam collapsed his wings and collided with Tony, slide-tackling him away from Steve and Bucky.

“Vision!” You screamed. “Help!” You looked for the red-skinned robot-human thing in the sky and found him floating by the control tower. You looked at the angles. If Vision took down the tower soon, it could trap Steve and Bucky. You skipped to a stop about one hundred feet away from the hangar bay. Steve and Bucky were about thirty feet away. “Take the tower down!” You ordered, pointing at the building. “Take it down! They’re under it!” You hoped that that wasn’t too drastic of a move. They could most likely dodge the debris, but then they would either be trapped in the bay or outside it, unable to get to their getaway jet. You saw Vision shoot a yellow energy beam out from his forehead, slicing the tower in half. The tower crumbled, showering Steve and Bucky with rocks and dust. The two soldiers slowed down slightly, debating on whether to keep going to turn around. But before the whole building could fall, a red energy field wrapped around the tower, suspending it in mid-air. You groaned. Are you kidding me?! You glared at Wanda, who was straining to keep the tower up. Steve and Bucky began to run under the tower. You started sprinting after them. You hoped Wanda could keep the tower up long enough for you to get to the hangar. You two were friends. She wouldn’t let a freaking tower fall on you.

“Tony, let Wanda keep the tower up!” You shouted to Tony, who was still dueling with Sam. “I’m going in!” Steve and Bucky made it under the tower’s path just as you were underneath it. The sudden shift from light to dark made you temporarily blind, but you kept running, knowing your eyes would adjust soon.

“Rhodey!” You heard Tony scream. “Stop! No!” You looked up. Tony never screamed. You heard a weird sound, almost like one of those boards that when you shook it, it made a weird rumbling sound. You looked up. The red field around the tower was gone.

All was black.

Two days later

The doctors had spouted a ton of medical terms, which Peter memorized to monitor your status himself and to pass the time: Your heart was working at a steady rate of 68 bpm. Your coma status wasn’t super great, GCS 5 = E1 V2 M2, meaning you had no eye movement, you mumbled and moaned occasionally, as well as respond to external pain. A score below 8 on the GCS scale meant it was a severe coma. There was no certainty on when, or if, you would wake up. The debris from the tower hit your head hard, and the rest of the damage to your body, from the kick to the cargo box, the blood loss from the scrapes and, obviously, the tower falling on you made your body go into ultimate survival mode. It needed to replenish all the red blood cells, white blood cells, good bacteria, develop scar tissue for your cuts and make cartilage and bone for the hairline fractures that littered your body.

Peter stayed by your side ever since he saw the tower fall and heard Tony scream your name. He also hadn’t slept in nearly two days. He sat beside your hospital bed, chin resting on his crossed hands as he stared at the monitors. Peter hated seeing you like this. You just laid on your back, tubes and apparatuses hooked up to your body. He just wanted to wake up and be better. He hated being in the hospital.

Peter also hated seeing the doctors come in to check on you. They were polite, but he could tell they didn’t care about you as much as he and the other Avengers did. Steve even mailed a get well card and the biggest bouquet of roses and Bucky sent a bear and a box of chocolates when they heard what happened. They’re old-fashioned guys, so they stuck with the classic gifts. Tony booked you at the most advanced brain trauma hospital in the world and agreed to cover any and all costs associated with the accident.

He also managed to pull some strings with General Ross at the Raft to let the other heroes send you things: Sam sent a collection of funny movies and CDs. He said you needed to laugh and be ‘finally have a good taste in music’. Wanda sent natural oils to help relieve tension, muscle aches, and headaches, as well as high-quality tea and honey after you woke up. She said you could have really bad aches everywhere, and you often drank tea when you were stressed. Clint sent you a wood target painted in your favorite color, stating that you needed to work on your aim. Rhodes felt the worst out of all the heroes, especially since he was the one who stunned Wanda, resulting in the tower collapsing on you. Unfortunately, with his recent paralysis, he wasn’t able to afford any elaborate or materialistic gifts. He said he would show his sympathy and apologies with acts of service, like running to the store for you, making you breakfast and getting you anything you needed around the tower. Peter and Tony protested against Rhodes to do all that since he could barely walk. The Air Force guy simply waved them off and said he’ll consider it physical therapy.

Peter couldn’t afford any special gifts either, even with the help of Aunt May. She sent you a small bottle of scented lotion and a handmade get well card with a long, sweet note about how amazing you were. May told Peter not to read it, but he did anyway. He’d spend forty-eight hours in a room with a comatose person, so he did get kind of bored sometimes. Peter managed to scrounge around his bedroom and find his piggy bank and collected all $15.00 of dimes, nickels, and pennies to buy you gift cards for your favorite bookstore and cafe. It was incredibly small compared to the others’ gifts, but it was all he had. He wished he could give you more. You were his Y/N. And you were hurt. He wished he could do more.

You moaned quietly again. Peter felt tears well up in his eyes when you went silent again. You mumbled randomly. At first, Peter thought it was a good thing, thinking you were close to waking up. But the doctors said it was just showing you had a tiny bit of brain activity, enough to produce small sounds. They had no rhyme or reason to them. It was just the brain showing that it kind of worked. Now, the sounds just make his heartbreak. He slid out of the chair to kneel beside your bed. He gripped your cold, dry hand. He stood up and went to the table with all your gifts and grabbed the lotion Aunt May gave you. She said it helps with dry skin. He went back to your bedside and opened the bottle. He squeezed some onto your hand. He stopped when he realized he had no idea how much to put on. He tried to remember if he’d seen May wear any of the stuff. He racked his brain, but couldn’t find any recollection of seeing May apply lotion.

He licked his lips and decided to put some more on. It was better to have too much than not enough, right? He was pleased when the blob of lotion nearly covered the back of your hand. He began to work the goop into your skin. It took longer than he thought to get all the lotion incorporated into your skin, but when he was done, he repeated the process on your other hand and on your feet. He applied three times more lotion on your feet since they were bigger than your hands, and he knew you never let him give you a foot massage when you were awake since you were ticklish. Part of him expected you to wake up shriek at him to stop, your limbs flailing about as you tried to get away from him. He smiled a little at the memory. When he was done with the lotion, half the small bottle was gone. He put it back near the rest of the gifts and returned to his knees by your bedside. He gripped your considerably softer but still cold hand in his own. The scent of the lotion wafted to his nose as he pressed his lips against your hand. Man, that lotion must be really good, Peter thought. His lips were softer after just that one kiss on them. He wiped his other hand across his mouth and sighed.

“Gosh darn it, Y/N,” Peter whispered, looking at your sickly face. It was so pale and damp with sweat. He felt tears fall down his cheeks as he took in a shaky breath. “Just wake up would you?” He couldn’t hold back his sobs anymore as his heart was ripped into piece into piece, gripping your hand tightly in his. “Just wake up, sweetheart.”  He panted a little as he braced himself for what he wanted to say next.

“I love you, okay? Y/N, I love you.” He stared at you, that stupid optimistic part of him expecting you to open your eyes and say something like “well duh, Parker. Everyone loves me.” But you didn’t. Your heartbeat didn’t change, your breathing was consistent, and your body remained motionless. He choked on another sob as he buried his head in your side. “Please, wake up, love. Just wake up.”

Three days later

“FIVE DAYS,” You shouted, making your throat and head rip in half. You grunted and coughed incessantly. Apparently not talking for five days made your throat incredibly sensitive. When you recovered, you were met with Peter gripping your hand in his and staring at you with those dumb, adorable and sad puppy dog eyes. “Peter, stop looking at me like that,” You growled. You were getting kind of fed up with all those sad looks he kept giving you. You didn’t mind him being there, you didn’t want a pity party. And you didn’t want to have to fight tears every time you looked at him because he looked like this whole thing was somehow his fault.

“Yeah, five days,” Tony repeated. The billionaire stood at the foot of the hospital bed, leaning nonchalantly against the plastic frame. “Doc says you should be fine in about a month, so - Oh don’t give me that look, Y/N. Yeah, I’m not happy about this either but you need to rest, kid. The more you rest, sooner you can get into the field.” After that, Tony slipped his expensive sunglasses on and strutted out the door. Right before the heavy door closed, you heard a nurse nervously ask for his autograph and Tony’s smooth chuckle as he agreed.

“Peter,” You said, feeling a question rise in your head.

“Yeah, Y/N?” Peter answered, his face showing gentle eagerness. You opened your mouth, but you realized you had no idea what to say. Well, you did, but you couldn’t. You wracked your brain, searching for your question. It was there, but you couldn’t grasp it. You groaned and slammed a sore hand into the mattress, frustrated that you couldn’t even remember a question you wanted to ask.

“Hey hey hey,” Peter said softly, moving from the chair to kneel by your bedside and resting his hand on your knee gently. “It’s okay. Don’t push too hard, okay? You’ll get better. It’ll just take time.”  

You sighed and rested your head against the mountain of pillows that supported you. Thankfully, you were healthy enough to not need half the tubes that were connected when you were first admitted. You were a little frazzled, with a brain injury and simply over the whole ordeal. You glanced at Peter, hoping he would have a dumb science joke or something, anything to cheer you up like he always did. When your eyes met, you could tell by the gleam in his teary eyes that he had some new ones for you.

“Did you hear oxygen went on a date with potassium?” Peter asked, fighting a massive grin. You giggled and shook your head, raising a hand to wipe a tear off your cheek.

“Oh well… It was OK,” Peter said before he chuckled, eyes crinkling and smile wide. You couldn’t help but laugh at him. After a few moments of laughter, Peter held up a hand to silence you.

“Okay, word of advice,” He said, looking at you deep in the eyes. You could tell he wasn’t going to make a joke this time, so you refrained from a snarky remark.

“Yeah?” You said, concerned as to why he looked so intensely at you.

“If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the precipitate.”

“Oh my gosh, Peter I swear-” You groaned before you let out another bout of laughter. You and Peter laughed so hard your stomachs hurt and tears were streaming down your cheeks. Eventually, you guys calmed down and spent a few moments catching your breath.

“Y/N,” Peter said, scooting from the floor to sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Peter, if you tell me one more lame science joke, I’ll punch you so hard you’ll be next door,” You threatened, a little smirk on your lips. You braced yourself for another corny joke, but one didn’t come. Peter just sat there, staring at you. His eyes were the softest, richest warm brown. His hair was tousled and curled at the ends, not styled at all, like how he normally had it. He was wearing a plain grey t-shirt, not a nerdy science shirt and his navy blue hoodie you always tried to steal. He wore the same jeans, though, the ones with the faded dark wash from wear and the hole in the back right pocket from where he shoved the apartment keys. Not that you took a habit of staring at his backside or anything. You also definitely did not notice how the shirt he was wearing now was more fitted than other shirts he wore, so it hugged his frame quite nicely. And you most definitely were not distracted by his gorgeous figure when you felt his gentle hands tilt your chin upward. Before you could totally register was going on, Peter pressed his lips against yours.

Yes, Peter Parker, aka Spider-Man, was kissing you. And boy, was it good. He shifted his hand from your chin to your cheek, gently kissing you again as he planted his other hand on your other side, towering over you. You kissed him back and traced your fingers up his arm to his neck before gently tangling your fingers in those gorgeous tousles curls of his. Peter let out a little sound and dropped his hand to your waist, pulling you as close as he could to you. How long you two stayed like that, you didn’t know. It could have been three seconds or three minutes, you had no clue.

You finally pulled away to catch your breath. Peter kept his forehead resting on yours, his lips parted as he recovered his breath too, his eyes closed. His hand on your waist slid to the middle of your back, holding you close. He buried his head in your neck and breathed you in, his warm breath tickling you. Suddenly, you remembered something incredibly important.

“Peter” You gasped, pushing away so you could look at him. The boy looked shocked and horrified.

“W-w-what? D-d-did I do something wr-wrong?” He stuttered, eyes wide as saucers. You shook your head and asked your crucial question.

“Why are my hands and feet so greasy?” You asked urgently.

Tag List @resident-book-nerd @animeroses318 @unicornspiderman @bedemoned @hobbitsofmyheart @just—love @superfrankie111 @laura2280 @tmrhollandkay @princeofsassgard @themortallife @143amberrose @silverelvenart @notevenagoodgirl @weasleytheking @theonlyonelives @camila1818 @captainpeggy40 @maraudersgallifreyanavenger​

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

She wasn’t going to jump

Request 

Pairing: Tony Stark x teen! reader, Peter Parker x reader

Warning: fluff, abuse, drugs,

Summary: Tony finds a girl on the bridge. She doesn’t want to die but how close to the edge she was he didn’t know that. He takes her to the tower and give her and internship. Everything seems to be going well until he finds her at the bridge again but she isn’t going to jump.

She stood on the edge of the bridge looking down into the water. She didn’t want to die no she wanted to fly she wasn’t going to jump she was going to let the wind pull her up and make her fly. Oh, she loved this feeling it felt so unreal.

“Hey kid, what are you doing?” someone had to ruin her fun “I’m minding my own business. You should try it”  she sassed she was really bold today.

“Well if you Jump and die I’ll be the last to see you and it will be my business. What’s your name?” This man was really was going to let you go. It was raining why wouldn’t this man leave her alone.” alright, I’m Tony Stark “

“(y/n) (l/n). Now go away Mr. Stark”

“are you going to jump if I leave?”

“No. I ... I just like to feel this breeze” 

“what breeze it’s raining” 

“what do you want?” he was annoying her she just wanted to be left alone.

“I want you to step over the rail and look at me. Standing over there you’re scaring me.” 

(y/n) took a deep breath and stepped over the rail. Anything to get rid of this man. He wasn’t going away. After she stepped over the rail Tony took her hand and pulled her further into the road. He wasn’t going away until he knew what was wrong and she was okay.

She wanted to be left alone left in the breeze or rain before he found her and killed her she wanted peace before death.

“What’s wrong?” 

“why do you care? shouldn’t you be off  fighting terrorist saving the world.”  She said sarcastically

“ yeah, but right now I’m busy saving what appears to be a teenage girl. It’s raining let’s go” Tony pulled her into his car in the moment he didn’t that he was ruining his seats, Later he would complain. He turned on the lights and seat warmers. She had her hoodie up covering face Tony pulled it back and she looked out the window. “I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong”

“I don’t want help”

“but you need it” Tony took her chin between his fingers and turned her to look at him. He sighed. Her face was dripping in the rain and blood her lip was broke a cut eye, and the nose was broken. He suspected she had more damage under her hoodie. “I’ve got a friend who can patch you up. His name is Bruce.”

“Doctor Bruce Banner Gamma radiation expert turns green when angry” 

“yep that’s him”

“I’ve read his research. Smart man”

They did say anything as Tony drove to the tower. It was around 2 am so everyone would be asleep unfortunately he has to wake Bruce. On the way to the tower (y/n) had fallen asleep. Tony carried her inside. “Friday, wake up Bruce and tell him to meet me in the infirmary.

“It’s 3 in the morning to Tony in the world-” Bruce stopped talking once he noticed the bleeding girl on the table. “what happen to her?”

“I don’t know I found her on the edge of a bridge. She says she wasn’t going to jump but I didn’t trust how close she was to the edge. I think you got beat or something”

“really what gave it away the black eye or busted lip”

“No time for sarcasm Bruce”

Bruce quickly went to work on her. He stitched the cuts on her face and then removed her jacket to find more cuts on her shoulder and bruises littering her body. He stitched her and cleaned her all up without her waking up. Even in fixed her nose without her waking up.

“she’s either really tired or in a coma,” Tony said once her nose was reset 

“or she has really high pain tolerance.” 

Tony rolled his eyes. After making sure she was okay they carried her to a spare room and left her there until morning. 

“Friday, let me know when she wakes up”

“of course Sir”

- 

Morning came and (y/n) woke with a startle. She found herself in a strangers bed took a moment for her memory to come back and for her to realize she was in Tony Stark’s bed. She felt her face for the cuts from last night and found bandages. 

(y/n) tiptoed out of bed and down the hall she found an elevator and happily got on to escape. But before she could actually press a button the elevator began to move and stopped on some floor. The door wouldn’t close so she was forced to get off on this floor.

“Yo kid you want some eggs” Tony shouted from down the hall. (y/n) followed the voice and found a dining room full of Avengers. She awkwardly waved at everyone who was sitting at the table “scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes” Tony came from the kitchen and put a plate down next to Bruce “ well aren’t you going to eat I promise it’s good” Tony said. (y/n) took a seat in front the food.

“Don’t eat it you’ll get food poisoning” The amazing Hawkeye whispered across the table.

“don’t listen to him it’s okay. I mean Steve’s pancakes are better but-” 

“Now you listen here, Romanoff. Stop telling this girl I’m trying to poison her. She’ll tell her parents or worse the press.” Everyone laughed.

“I’m Steve, those two are Clint and Natasha, the two bickering over there are Sam and Bucky”

“The pretty lady with an accent is Wanda, Redman reading newspaper Vision, Blondie stuffing his face Thor, The nice fellow next to you is Bruce he patched you up last night , And you already know who I am” Tony said finished for Steve “Everybody this is my new Stray (y/n) (l/n)”

“are you going to keep her, “ Bucky asked 

“....maybe”.

(y/n) stopped listening to the conversions around her and was busy stuffing her face with food. She probably didn’t look like she had manners but she didn’t care. It had been three days since her last meal and that was just a bowl of cereal. She hadn’t actually had a cooked meal since she was 8 years old by her grandmother. Now as she finished she wished she had savored the meal.

Looking up she noticed everyone looked at her. Just as she thought her manners flew out the window. “Sorry missed dinner and lunch yesterday so I was a bit hungry.” she wiped her mouth and looked down.

“no, no it’s okay. We’ve seen Thor do worse” Clint said “do you want seconds”

yes

“no, no thank you”.

Tony pulled out his phone “so (y/n) (l/n) you are 16 in Sophomore at Midtown High Straight A’s, Advance Placement, 3.9 GPA, and two after schools jobs. Do you know Peter Parker?” 

“I- I know him never talked to him” 

“well, he’s my intern My only intern but not anymore. You’re smart and now my second intern. Congratulations.” 

“what?????” 

-

After that (y/n) began Tony’s second intern, and probably his only intern to do actual work pertaining to the job. (y/n) met Peter soon after and the two became instant friends not long after she found out he was Spider-Man. She got comfortable in the tower and never wanted to leave, literally Tony actually made (y/n) her own room for her to sleep over.

Though the team never said anything they knew something was up at home. After the first night, she never had scars on her face again but she always wore longs selves and flinched from touch she never wanted to go home and stayed away as long as she possibly could.

Peter was probably the only one who she did not flinch from, then again he was her boyfriend.

No one ever asked what happen to her the first not and she didn’t tell. She was comfortable and seemed safe in the moment they did care about the past. But they should have.

-

“I’m sorry I’m sorry” (y/n) cried as she pushed the bathroom door closed trying to keep her Father out. 

“Kick that bitches ass. That little slut.” Her mother said from the couch as she shot up another needle in her veins. Her father kicked the door in causing (y/n) to fall back and hit the sink counter. 

“no, no, no” she cried as he dragged her out by her foot he dragged her into the living room and poured a beer on her “Want to be a little whore bitches then that’s how you’ll get treated like one” he kicked her in the stomach and stomped on her head. All this because he found the text messages from Peter.

He heard her phone go off the thing he never gave her a phone. When he found it he was going to go off about that but then he saw the texts from Peter and decided to beat her for that instead. He just needed a reason to beat her and thing will do.

“Baby, baby, Leave the whore alone come with me” 

(y/n) curled herself on the floor as her parent when off to the bed probably to Fuck then get high. (y/n) uncurled herself grabbed her phone and limped to the door. The streets were empty. She limped all the way to the Subway and to her bridge. The bridge where she met Tony.

She crawled over the rail and hung there in the breeze. She wasn’t going to jump she was just breathing and feeling the breeze. She wanted to fly so badly and this was as close as she could get. The feeling was so unreal she loved it.

“(y/n)... what are you doing?” she turned around to find Peter or Spider-Man behind her “Baby, please don’t do this”

“Don’t do what?” she asked then heard the thrusters on Tony’s iron suit.

“I have a tracker on your phone. It gives me an alert when you’re somewhere you shouldn’t be. And this is defiantly somewhere you shouldn’t be” Tony said stepping out of his suit “How come every time we met here you’re hurt “

(y/n) reached up and felt the blood dripping down her head. “oh” she said then climbed back over the rail. Peter immediately pulled her into his arms and cried “what were you thinking what were you doing?” 

“I wanted to know what it felt like to fly. I wasn’t going to jump just breathe” 

“(y/n) ... you’re bleeding what happened?” Tony asked. she sighed she was going to have to tell them one way or another.

“Um... My dad” she hugged Peter tight “The first night I had stepped on his drugs ruining him he beat me really bad I was passed out for a day he locked me in the basement. But I broke out and... I broke his legs and ran away. When I came back he didn’t remember what happened I told him he fell.”

“what happen tonight”

“He ..um... he - he found my phone and saw the texts from Peter. He got really mad and chased me through the house throwing things. He poured alcohol on me and beat me. I ran away when he was ...distracted. And can here to breath. I always come here to breathe.”

“Baby, why didn’t you tell us sooner we could have helped we could have done something” Peter began to ramble on and on about how he or someone else could have help. (y/n) pulled up his mask and kissed him to shut him up.

“I’m sorry will you help me now” 

“of course, Let get doctor Banner to patch you up.” Peter kissed her and pulled his mask down “you said you wanted to fly didn’t you”.

As Tony took off Peter spun a web and attached to Tony’s suit “ Then Lets fly”

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