#it was harder than expected. i think i need to peter out this addiction. i slept at 10 pm woke up at 6 am. wow.

[apsaraa]

attempted a social media free day yesterday

[artificialdaydreamer]

How to Say "I Love You"

Emotions are hard to understand, conveying how one feels to the person they love is even harder.

-

Jon had never been good at expressing his emotions. Growing up he mostly absorbed their descriptions from books, how a character was excited for something to happen, how another was jealous of someone else. The feeling he found hardest to comprehend was love. How was it possible to be so completely devoted to another person that it shifted the way you felt about everything? He loved his parents, even now that they were gone. He loved his grandmother, but he got the feeling that the type of love written about in books was different from the emotions he was actually experiencing.

When he started dating Georgie, something he’d entirely misinterpreted when it had first happened, Jon wasn’t sure what the emotions he felt were. Was the yearning to be close to her love? The happiness to have someone he could talk with about inconsequential things? Then again, if what he felt wasn’t love, then what was? Eventually Georgie came to him, told him that while she liked Jon as a friend she didn’t think their relationship was working out. They’d broken up without much fanfare and going from dating to friends didn’t really change how they interacted with each other.

As he watched Martin sleep, his coppery curls catching the light of the rising sun, his face close enough to Jon’s that it was possible to count every freckle, Jon thought he might finally have an answer. He loved Martin, that was the only explanation for why his heart clenched whenever Martin smiled, why his cheeks flushed and his palms started to sweat from the smallest things. This was what people talked about in those books, what they yearned for with such intensity, wasn’t it?

When had he started feeling like this? When had Jon’s feelings for Martin turned to love? Was it when he’d gone into the Lonely? When Martin had started working for Peter Lukas and Jon was no longer able to see him? Earlier? How long had he loved Martin and just not realized it?

Jon lay there, thinking back to their interactions over the years. Next to him Martin started to stir, blue eyes blinking open slowly. “Morning.” Martin said with a smile.

“Good morning.” Jon tried to keep his voice from shaking as his heart pounded in time with his thoughts. I love you, I love you, I love you.

From then on it was hard to not feel overwhelmed by the love, like a wave crashing over him. Jon would be in the middle of a sentence before getting distracted by Martin, how beautiful he was, his laugh. I love you, I love you, I love you. How did people deal with these emotions?

He started to use actions instead of the words he could not say. Making sure they had enough of Martin’s favorite tea in the safehouse. I love you, I love you, I love you. Offering to cook breakfast so Martin could stay in bed a bit longer. I love you, I love you, I love you. Letting his fingers linger a bit longer than was necessary whenever they touched. I love you, I love you, I love you.

They’d decided to take a walk into town, grab some groceries, and stretch their legs, passing the field full of cows Martin stopped and cooed over them. He’d gotten out his phone to take pictures and the moment was so... normal compared to everything they’d been through that Jon started chuckling.

“What’s so funny?” Martin had asked, tearing his eyes from the cows to look at Jon in confusion.

“Nothing,” Jon took a breath, trying to burn this moment into his memory. “I just love you so much.”

There was a moment of silence where Martin just stared at him, his freckled face looking even redder thanks to the glow of the setting sun. “Wait... What?”

For a heartbeat Jon wondered if he’d said the wrong thing, although he hadn’t even meant to say it at all. He couldn’t help but question if Martin’s confession of “I really loved you” meant that those feelings were gone. Had he been the only one who worried about just what the emotions flooding through his veins meant? Was he just imagining that Martin felt the same way?

“I- I’m sorry... I didn’t mean-” Jon was floundering now, scrambling for something to say to make the situation right again. “If you don’t- I’m sorry.”

“You... Do you mean that?” Martin’s cheeks were practically scarlet, his phone now dangling precariously in one hand.

“I... Yes?” Despite the fact Jon had already come to terms with his feelings, had already said the words aloud, it felt like an entirely different thing to answer when his thoughts were in such turmoil. He didn’t know how to respond in a way that wouldn’t sound selfish, asking for affection he knew in his heart he didn’t deserve. Even if Martin did still like him there wasn’t anything that Jon could do to atone for the thing’s he had said, the things he had done, the person he’d been to have treated Martin so terribly. It was ironic, that at the time he’d swatted away such affection yet now he craved it as though he were an addict suffering from withdrawal. As though he’d been living underground and now that he’d seen sunlight he couldn’t get enough.

The expression on Martin’s face was hard to understand. Was it sadness? Pity? The books Jon had read as a child had talked about brows furrowing, lips being bitten, eyes not being met, but those individual descriptions could apply to so many emotions and Jon didn’t know what it was Martin might be feeling. It was all Jon could do to not scrunch his eyes up as Martin took a tentative step closer, then another, bridging the gap between them and effectively forcing all the air from Jon’s lungs. Then he’d swept Jon up in his arms, Jon’s face nestling into the crook of his neck. It was so warm and comfortable... It felt like Jon belonged there.

“S-sorry...” Martin gasped as they broke apart, his face still red as he seemed to examine Jon for some sort of reaction. “I should have asked first, but I- Are you okay?”

In all honesty Jon was not okay. His brain was attempting to sort out just what he was feeling, synapses firing and crossing out things like anger and disgust with only his limited knowledge of emotions to go off of. Again, the words and feeling threatened to overwhelm him with the constant pounding of I love you, I love you, I love you.

“Jon?” Martin waved a hand in front of his face and it was a real effort for Jon to pull himself out of his thoughts enough to meet Martin’s gaze. “Did I do something wrong?”

“N-no... I just... I wasn’t expecting- I didn’t know if-”

“Wait... Jon, did you not think I felt the same?” Martin’s eyes were wide, reflecting the setting sun.

“I, I’m not sure.” He’d spent so much time absorbed in his own thoughts that he hadn’t actually thought of what might happen if he confessed. He hadn’t even thought about confessing. Jon realized that he’d somehow become content with just loving Martin and not telling him. He’d convinced himself that Martin was better off without him, and that there wasn’t a point in confessing.

“Jon, I’ve loved you for the past two years.” Martin’s voice was soft, his cheeks still flushed as he stared at Jon.

“What?” Jon squawked, taking a step back in surprise. Martin reached out and grabbed Jon’s hand in his own, it was so warm, so comforting.

“Well, not exactly two years...” Martin ran his free hand through his coppery curls. “Since the thing with Prentiss, when you let me stay in the Archives...”

Jon remembered those long nights they’d spent together after Martin had started living in the document storage room. At first Jon had found Martin’s presence kind of annoying, it was impossible to get some time by himself. Then he’d realized what was going on, although he couldn’t explain just how he’d known.

Martin didn’t want to be alone.

While he’d admitted during his statement that boredom had been the thing that had been the hardest to deal with, Jon suspected loneliness had also plagued him. Cut off from everyone, no internet, no phone, and it wasn’t like he could talk to Jane Prentiss. It certainly explained why Martin felt the need to check on Jon every half hour.

Once he’d realized why Martin was acting like a concerned parent he made an effort to take more breaks so they could talk. At first it had been hard to find topics for discussion, as Jon was as good with small talk as he was with emotions, but bringing up the Admiral had certainly broken the ice. After that Jon found it easier to connect with Martin, it was still somewhat awkward, but he certainly made an effort. Jon had also ended up staying in the Archives overnight a handful of times as well, partially because he had work to do and partially to keep Martin company.

It had been those nights where they’d started to connect, going out to eat so they could both eat a decent meal, talking about random things to pass the time while they struggled to fall asleep. Jon had started to get a sense of who Martin was, underneath the jumpers and tea. He was earnest and always tried his best to do whatever task Jon set for him, no matter how absurd it was. He also had a mischievous side to him and had no problem joining Tim in his pranks, although Martin was much better at keeping the pranks a secret.

It felt strange, getting to know a person through whispered conversations, over tea breaks, or at a cafe. Jon was never good with friendships, never good at telling what people wanted from him, so he’d ended up pushing everyone away. After his encounter with Mr. Spider he only became more withdrawn, survivor’s guilt eating him up inside. Martin wasn’t like the others though. Despite the fact that Jon was horrible at communicating, horrible at deciphering what emotions anyone might be feeling at any given time, Martin didn’t seem to care. He seemed to be genuinely happy to spend time with Jon, which was just as foreign a concept.

Now, despite everything that had happened in the past few years, Martin had stayed with him. An anchor in the churning waves that threatened to wash him away from everything he knew and cared about. Jon loved him for that. “I think that’s when I started to fall for you too. I didn’t- I didn’t realize at the time...”

“Oh, I definitely didn’t realize either.” Martin’s cheeks were slightly less flushed than they had been. “I think I realized it when- this is going to sound crazy...”

“You realized it when, Martin?” Jon couldn’t help but ask, smiling at the flustered look on Martin’s face.

“It... It was when I told you about lying on my CV.” Martin sighed, not daring to meet Jon’s gaze. “You, you were so mad at first but after I told you... You just started laughing and I remember looking at you and thinking ‘really? This is the man I fell in love with?’ Thankfully Tim... Tim was too distracted by everything else going on to pay attention to my hopeless crush.”

“Not so hopeless.” Jon squeezed Martin’s hand. “I knew how much I cared about you when I woke up in the hospital after my coma. Georgie was there, and I remember being sad because it was you I wanted to see.” It felt strange to say the words aloud, as though he was only understanding what had happened. He’d been thinking about it so much over the past few weeks, since he’d realized that he loved Martin, but it took saying the words aloud for him to notice. “It was funny, the months that followed, I thought it was a fitting punishment for how I’d treated you. Wanting to be close to someone and yet unable to do so. I knew I loved you a few days after we arrived here.”

“Is that why you were acting so weird?”

“Look, I... I’m not the best with emotions. I don’t get them, I don’t understand how I feel half the time. With other people it’s even harder, trying to piece together how they’re feeling based on their expression or the tone of their voice...” Since he was still holding Martin’s hand Jon couldn’t cross his arms defensively over his chest, so he settled for putting his free hand in his pocket. “This is the first time I’ve ever... I’ve ever felt something so intensely. I didn’t know what to do, how to act, now that I knew I loved you.”

“I get it, emotions are hard. Can I help?” Martin asked, his lips quirked in a small smile.

“Sure? I guess so?”

“How did you feel when I told you that I loved you?”

Jon had to think about it, he’d been so overwhelmed by the tidal wave of emotions that he wasn’t sure what any of them had been. “I was... I think I was happy.”

“You think?”

“I was happy, alright?” Jon huffed. “I was also shocked, and confused... Mostly I was happy, because I loved you so much.”

“Alright, that’s good to know.” Martin took a step closer, still smiling. “How would you feel if I kissed you?”

The answer came easier this time. “Happy. I’d feel happy.”

“May I kiss you?”

“Absolutely.” Jon didn’t know what to expect from Martin kissing him. He’d kissed Georgie and while it hadn’t been unpleasant he hadn’t gotten anything from the experience. This time however, Jon could taste the remnants of whatever chapstick Martin had used, strawberry maybe? He felt how warm Martin’s lips were, despite the cold day, their heat bleeding into him. He wrapped his arms around Martin and pulled them closer, trying to memorize everything as it happened. Martin’s scent, the wool of his jumper, how fast both their hearts were beating. In his head Jon was panicking. He didn’t know what to do, or if what he was doing was the right thing to do. He attempted to understand what the emotions he felt were: happiness... amazement... and love. So much love. Was love even an emotion? He didn’t know, but it certainly overwhelmed his senses.

When they broke apart Martin was smiling and, more surprisingly, Jon was smiling back. “Let’s take it one day at a time, alright? We can work out what you might be feeling together.”

“I- I’d like that.”

I love you, I love you, I love you.

The words still rattled around in his mind, but for once they didn’t worry him. Jon might not understand love, or emotions, or why the characters in his books had behaved a certain way, but it didn’t matter. Martin loved him back, and that was more than enough for him.

-

I've been sitting on this fic for a year due to some personal issues, on a related note this is not betaed, I apologize for any mistakes there might be

[snarkythewoecrow]

I’m so obsessed with your writing, especially the angsty stories! I was wondering if you’d ever consider doing drug addicted Peter where tony starts to notice and recognize the signs and basically just all the whump and feels as possible lmao! Seriously love your writing and I really appreciate you taking prompts! 💖

This was an awesome prompt, and I tried to fill it, but I’ll admit, it took on a life of its own. I think I may do a second chapter later or an epilogue, so keep an eye out for it. 

This has a big trigger warning for drug use. Read with caution if that’s a thing for you. 

Read on AO3

Peter had a problem, one that started slowly and quickly tumbled out of control. He never meant it to happen, but regrets were like wishes and worth little in the end.  

It started after the snap to bring everyone back, after nearly losing Tony on the battlefield. The nightmares haunted him every time he closed his eyes, a million other ways things could have gone. He’d had the fate of the world in his hands as he had carried the gauntlet. One wrong move and Peter would have been responsible for their loss.  

It probably wasn’t the healthiest way to cope, or maybe it wasn’t coping at all. May had suggested he talk to a therapist, but Peter had brushed her off, telling her the things she needed to hear, that he was sleeping, though he wasn’t, that he didn’t see the dead when he closed his eyes, even though he was. He’d never forget the bodies or the smell of burning flesh. They might have won, but people died, people were hurt.  

Tony was hurt, but then, at least he was alive. Scarred but healing. 

Recovering from battle meant that Tony was busy and not looking too closely, which was how Peter managed to avoid his attention, which was how no one noticed when Peter tried drugs for the first time.  

He'd gotten the heroin from a drug dealer he’d webbed up. It hadn’t been his plan to keep it, but he found himself gripping the baggie in his hand and swinging away. There was a thrill to keeping it, instead of making sure it went to the police. It had taken him a few hours at home to decide to use it, and another hour of googling to realize he’d need some supplies to make that happen. In the end, he had tucked it under his mattress and made the decision to find a needle and lighter the next day.  

The next day came after a fitful sleep, guilt and curiosity warring in him. May went to work and wouldn’t be back until morning. It was the weekend, so he didn’t need to worry about school, and the only thing he could think about was whether the drugs would give him any relief, any bit of freedom and happiness in the darkness he was living.  

He sat on his bed with the bedroom door closed even though no one else was home. He arranged the syringe, spoon, lighter, and baggie of drugs on the mattress. The water he’d need to dissolve the heroin was on the nightstand, a room temperature bottle of Poland Spring.  

From everything he’d read, he estimated that he’d have plenty of time to come down before morning. That was if this even worked with his metabolism. Regular pain pills barely worked on him, and heroin was an opiate in the same family.  

Checking the time on his phone, he steeled himself to start. Following all the steps he’d seen on YouTube, and you really could learn anything on the internet, he prepped the drug in the spoon and then drew the top layer of the solution off the spoon. The whole process reminded him of chemistry class.  

He let out a shaky breath as he studied the contents of the needle and then put the spoon and lighter and baggie away in his nightstand.  

It was just him, the syringe.  

“Shit,” Peter said, as he realized he needed a tourniquet.  

Setting the needle down on the mattress, he rummaged through his closet for something to use. With a thudding heart and shaky hands, he found his tie from homecoming and, with a moment’s hesitation, grabbed it and went back to the bed.  

Pushing down his fears, he knotted the tie around his upper arm as tight as he could and uncapped the needle.  

Doing like the videos said, he found a vein, inserted the needle, and then drew back to get blood. He depressed the plunger fully, his hyper-aware senses feeling the tepid mixture in his vein. When the syringe was empty, he recapped it and tossed it on his nightstand, loosened the tourniquet, and laid back on against his pillows.  

He immediately felt a rush. It reminded him a little of his super pain pills that Bruce had designed but more intense. His mouth went a little dry, and his skin flushed. When he tried to move his arms, they felt heavy.  

He let his eyes close and enjoyed the feeling of heavy warmth envelop him. His thoughts, which had been dashing around his brain, slowed to cold molasses, and he relished the freedom from his chaotic, depressing mess that was his mind..  

Feeling relaxed and floaty, he let himself drift off to a dreamless sleep. 

XXX 

Over the next few weeks, Peter tried to explain away his hunt for more drug deals to interrupt as just being a diligent hero, doing his part, but secretly he knew that it was because he wanted more drugs, and that was the easiest way to get them.  

He always waited until May was working the overnight to use, and each time it got easier, the motions of preparing the drug becoming like second nature. His healing factor hid what would have been track marks on his arm, and the drug was wiped from his system by his high metabolism soon after taking it, so it didn’t seem like much of a risk.  

That didn’t mean he didn’t know what he was doing was wrong. On some level, he did, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t find reasons to make it less of a bad thing and more positive. It was honestly hard to argue with the benefits, not when on nights he used to struggle with his dreams, he now got real sleep. It finally gave him a little peace.  

As weeks of using turned to months, Peter’s appetite slipped, and his demeanor started to change. Living became about when he could get high next, and the waits made him irritable, and even May noticed.  

“How many days in a row do you plan on coming home and slamming your bedroom door?” May asked from the doorway to his room.  

He’d wanted to come straight home and shoot up, but May had changed her shifts this week and was home the last few nights, including this one. It meant he couldn’t risk doing it. If she caught him using, he didn’t want to think about what she’d do. His spider-manning days would be over. And she’d tell Tony, who didn’t need the stress. Honestly, Peter wasn’t sure who he feared finding out more, May or Tony. Neither was an option. He needed to play it safe even if that meant going without for a few days. 

And going without shouldn’t have been such a big deal, but he was finding his skin itched, and he couldn’t make his muscle relax. The only thing that gave him some relief was moving, but he worried that alone might be enough for May to catch on. She’d worked in the ER enough to recognize the symptoms of withdrawal, though maybe she wouldn’t believe Peter would ever have a reason to go through that.  

“Sorry, May. I haven’t been sleeping that much lately.” He fought the urge to bounce his leg. “I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.” He tried to stop himself from scratching his arm, but his fingers still twitched. “I’ll do the dishes tonight.” 

May pushed her glasses up her nose, eyes roving over him. Finally, her shoulders dropped, and she sighed. “Fine, thank you. I’m making meatloaf tonight. It’ll be ready in an hour. I expect you to make an appearance.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be out. Sorry again for acting like a jerk.” 

She gave him a small smile. “Larb you.” 

“Larb you, too.” 

After dinner, Peter packed his kit and headed for the roof. He told May he was patrolling, but he didn’t even wear his suit. He took the stairs and went out to the chair over by the vent. May had gone to binge watch her favorite shows in her room, so she wouldn’t come looking for Peter if he was late.  

Shooting up on the roof wasn’t the best circumstances, but it was better than May walking in on him. If he didn’t take as much as usual, he could come down enough to go back inside before long. It would just take the edge off. That’s all he wanted.  

Sitting in the chair, he opened the small canvas bag and pulled out his supplies. He made quick work of the prep and was ready to inject in minutes.  

Once he depressed the plunger, he counted in his head until he hit five, and he was already feeling it. The awful twitching and ache in muscles faded, and he relaxed. Recapping the needle, he dropped it on the roof and closed his eyes, sliding down in the chair until his head was resting against the back. 

He nearly drifted off to sleep when he felt his pocket vibrate. It took him a minute to put together that it was his phone. He couldn’t find it in himself to care enough to answer, though, so he just waited it out.  

A second later, the phone rang again, and again, he ignored it.  

The cool fall air stirred, and he scrubbed his hand over his face. Checking his watch, he saw it had been almost two hours since he came up to the roof. His head was still hazy, but he needed to get back. 

Grabbing his bag, he pushed himself to his feet and made his way to the side of the building, hopping over the side and scurrying over to the fire escape. He wasn’t sure if May would still be in her room, so he figured he should use his window since she thought he was patrolling.  

The next day, Peter felt a lot better, but he was feeling the need to use again by the end of the day. It was becoming harder and harder to get through the whole day. It started to worry Peter, he didn’t like giving over control, but he squashed the feeling down and focused on his homework.  

His phone came to life on the desk, and he glanced over at it. On the screen was the familiar image of the Iron Man helmet. He felt a rush of fear go through him, like if he answered, somehow Tony would know what he’d been doing.  

Before he could decide what to do, the phone went quiet again. He felt a little relief now that the ringing had stopped. 

He really should talk to Tony, though. Ignoring his calls was never good. It always made him more intense, more curious, pushier. Peter knew it was because he cared, but Peter didn’t need to be babysat. He’d been through so much, space, death, coming back, and fighting for the fate of the world. Of course, Tony wouldn’t agree with Peter’s coping technique, but it worked for him, and what harm was it doing? He was keeping the drugs off the street, away from someone who could overdose or be killed. He’d bet with his metabolism that he couldn’t overdose if he tried. 

His skin was starting to crawl, and he needed another fix. Kneeling down beside his bed, he shoved his hand between the mattress and box spring. When his fingers brushed over the flimsy plastic bag, he snatched it and pulled it out. Disappointment washed over him when he saw it was empty. He would have sworn he’d had some left. Had he really used it all? He knew he’d been using more, but it didn’t seem like that much. 

Crushing the bag in his hand, he tossed it into the wastebasket and let a heavy breath out his nose. What was he going to do? It wasn’t easy to find the right drug deals to get what he needed. It was always hit or miss what they would be dealing in. Working his jaw, he realized he didn’t have a choice. He was going to have to go out. 

Just as he went to his closet to get his suit, his phone came to life again, and Peter nearly growled at the interruption. He was focused on finding drugs. He didn’t have time to talk, and who called anyway? Why couldn’t they just text?

He forcefully swiped the phone from his desk, briefly glancing at the caller ID. It was Tony because, of course, it was Tony. The universe hated him. 

His muscles ached, and his hands shook as he held the phone in front of him. He swept to answer, bringing the phone to his ear, and squeezing his eyes shut like it would help him hide. 

“What?” Peter breathed before Tony could answer. The longer the call took, the longer he’d have to wait to get his next fix. 

“Is that how you’re answering your phone these days? I guess I wouldn’t know since this is the first time you’ve answered in weeks. Why is that, Peter?”

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose in a very Tony way. He tried to push down his annoyance. “Sorry, Mr. Stark. Can this wait? I’m kinda busy right now.”

“I won’t lie and say that doesn’t hurt my feelings, Pete. I thought we were past this stuff, and since when do you call me Mr. Stark. It’s been Tony since, you know, Thanos and all that.”

Peter didn’t need a reminder. Peter had been calling him Tony more, but the formal moniker offered some distance, which right now, Peter needed. He felt caught out in the open, like at any moment, Tony would just know and call him out. He didn’t want to give up his new coping mechanism, no matter how controversial it might be. 

“We are past it,” Peter said honestly. 

“Do you know why I’ve been calling you?”

Peter sighed with a shrug. “I don’t know? You’re bored because Pepper won’t let you turn the toaster sentient?”

He heard Tony’s breathy chuckle on the other end. “Maybe a little of that, but more that May is worried. She called me a few days ago, telling me how you have changed. You’re snappier, angry, always seem tired. She even thought you’d been losing weight.”

Peter pursed his lips as his jaw ticked. “She shouldn’t have called you.”

“So you don’t deny what she’s saying?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Tony’s tone was firm when he spoke. “Don’t lie to me, Peter. Tell me what’s going on? Are you having trouble with nightmares again? Christ knows you’ve seen some shit.”

Peter stood there quietly, afraid to talk, afraid he might betray himself and say the wrong thing. 

“Answer me, kid.”

“I don’t have anything to say. I wasn’t handling things, dying, Thanos, coming back, but I’ve found something that’s working. It’s helping, so don’t worry about it.” He took a breath and tacked on a, “Please.”

It was Tony’s turn to be silent. A few seconds passed, then Tony cleared his throat. “I don’t know if that makes me worry more or less. It could just be me projecting, but I’m something of an expert on shitty coping mechanisms. Part of me thinks that if it wasn’t something to worry about, you’d tell me.”

“I can’t, please, just leave it,” Peter breathed.

“Okay,” Tony sighed. “Okay, we’ll do this your way, but if things get to be too much, call me. I’m always here for you, kid. I didn’t just bend time and space to get you back because I didn’t mean something to me. Promise me you’ll call.”

“If I need you, anything, I’ll call, but I swear, Tony, I got this.”

They ended the call, and Peter tossed his phone on the bed. Scrubbing a hand over his face and ruffling his hair, he pushed down his conflicting emotions and looked at his closet where his suit hung. It would all be better once he found some drugs. They’d make it all better. He’d be able to be himself, to think. Lying to himself was easy.

Patrol took him all over the city, but he couldn’t find any heroin. Weed didn’t do anything for him, and his metabolism burned through cocaine too fast to bother. As time went on, he felt the withdrawal more and more. It was like a caged beast inside him, clawing at his chest, tearing at his muscles. He felt the need to use burning through his very core. 

Panic started to build in him as he realized he might not find any. He didn’t know what he would do if he couldn’t. Without any other ideas, Peter headed to an area that he knew people used. Maybe he could sneak some away from a passed out junkie. 

When he got there, he immediately saw someone. A woman was slumped by a dirty cardboard box, syringe still in her hand, spoon on the ground. She looked like she was sleeping. 

Taking a look around to make sure no one else was looking, he crept closer to her, eyes searching for leftover drugs. He caught the edge of a bag sticking out of her pocket. Relief flooded him. It wasn’t until he was tugging the bag out of her jacket that he realized she wasn’t moving at all, and he couldn’t hear her heartbeat. It was then that he saw how pale she was, lips tinged blue. 

There were a lot of things Peter knew he should do, call for help, make sure someone found her, a million other things, but what he found himself doing was snatching the bag the rest of the way from her pocket and clenching it in his fist. There wasn’t much, but it would be enough to take the edge off. Then he looked her over one last time and took off toward the rooftops. 

He made it a block before the weight of what he’d done crashed down on him, and he collapsed on a roof, down on all fours and panting, feeling his stomach roll. The image of the woman wouldn’t leave his mind. What was thinking? What was he becoming? This wasn’t him. This wasn’t Spider-Man. He didn’t recognize himself anymore. 

He pulled his mask off just in time for bile to come splattering on the gravelly roof. 

Spitting on the ground, he pushed himself up and sat back on his knees. His HUD was alive and active with his stats. His heart was beating a little too fast. He wondered how much was his emotional state and how much was withdrawal. 

The worst part was he was still holding the baggie, and he didn’t want to let it go, even though he knew how wrong it was to keep it. Was this what he’d come to? Scavenging drugs from the dead. At least when he was taking them from dealers, he could reason that he was saving a life, but that wasn’t the case anymore. How had he gotten here, and how did he get back?

He remembered his conversation only hours earlier. Pulling his mask back over his face, he thought about what he really wanted, and he knew in his heart that it was to be free again, but he was afraid that would never happen. If there was any hope of getting back to normal, there was only one option. Peter just hoped he’d understand. 

“Karen,” Peter’s voice broke, “call Tony.”

[thebonerpit]

all i want is a room with a view [fic]

all i want is a room with a view

Teenker/Keenker, 3780 words. TW: non-consensual voyeurism. Read it on AO3 here!

This was 100% inspired by a nff video that I used to have linked here but I’m taking it out because maybe that’s stopping my post from showing up in tag searches?? Anyway if you want the link I will post it, just send an ask, because the dude looks so much like older Harley it’s insane. And he has a gorgeous dick.

“Tony’s inappropriate feelings for Harley and Peter lead him to spying on them via cameras in their rooms. He sees a whole lot more than he expected.”

Tony had been thinking about this for weeks. Mulling it over in his head, weighing the pros and cons… and funnily enough, not once did he question the morality of the whole thing. That, he knew. He knew it was wrong but he was going to do it anyway because… well, because he wanted to. Because he could. And because he knew this was the closest he was ever going to get to these two beautiful boys.

Harley and Peter had been staying at the complex for about two months now. It was summer, so both of them were out of school and were desperate to get as much time in the labs as possible. Of course no one objected, and Bruce in particular was very pleased to have both of them around to bounce ideas off of. They each had their own room, both already making the spaces their own. They were usually in an equal state of mess although Peter was slightly more organized. He put up a Star Wars poster and had turned one corner into a mini chem lab for his ongoing experiments. Harley on the other hand was much more spartan in his decorating but his desk was constantly littered with mechanical parts and there were grease stains smudging the perfect white walls. He had apologized for the first one but Tony honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. He loved them, mess and all, and he would let them do whatever the hell they wanted if it meant they would stay.

He knew all this detail about their rooms because, well, frankly, he was spying on them. Never while they were in there, but he already had cameras set up in those rooms when they were empty and… he was curious. A few times he opened the feed and caught glimpses of them, working or reading or doing some other innocent activity, but he quickly shut it off. He didn’t want to invade their privacy like that.

Until he did.

It was a few weeks into summer when the staring started. He’d look up from his work to catch Peter’s glassy eyes fixed on him only to hurriedly look back down at his own project, blushing furiously. Harley was less subtle – as usual – and held Tony’s gaze for a few moments before smiling and looking away. At first he thought they were up to something, that he was going to get pranked, but nothing ever came of it. They did it to each other, too, but their gazes were much more knowing, so Tony could only assume there was something between them they didn’t want him to know about.

The first time he actively checked on them while he knew they were present was when he saw Harley sneaking into Peter’s room as he was up getting a glass of water one night. He tip-toed back to his bedroom and pulled up the feed, some dark anticipation throbbing in his stomach. But it seemed perfectly innocent. Harley was on Peter’s desk chair and Peter was on his bed, and they were just talking. Nothing nefarious. Nothing… sexual. It was sick how disappointed he felt.

But after that he just couldn’t stop. He watched Peter on his computer, looking up cute animal videos and laughing sweetly to himself. He watched Harley reading. He watched them both together, sitting on Harley’s bed, eating pizza and marathoning Stranger Things. He even turned the sound on occasionally, just to hear them laugh. It was like an addiction. But somehow, up until this point, he hadn’t seen anything remotely scandalous. Harley was shirtless once but it was just because he spilled coffee all over himself like an idiot.

“Maybe my timing is off,” Tony muttered to himself as he tinkered with the engine of his ’65 Porsche 911.

“What was that?” Harley called from the next table over.

“Nothing! Just talking to myself. As usual. Whenever I ask either of you a question you just respond with memes,” he snapped, which of course got the two of them going and away from the subject he definitely should not have been thinking about in the first place. But he might have had something. He never tried the mornings (or more realistically for these two, afternoons). Tony set an alarm for the next day, more pleased with himself than he should have been, and went back to work.

+ + + + +

He checked in on Peter first. When he opened the camera all he could see were tufts of brown hair peeking out under the edge of his massive comforter all bundled up around his body like a cocoon. Tony chuckled softly and shook his head.

“FRI, crank up the heat in Peter’s room a little, would you?”

Tony liked to keep the a/c low but even though Peter’s crazy high metabolism should keep him warm, he was always bundled up in hoodies and socks and obviously he needed some more heat while he slept. Tony smiled fondly at the image before switching over to Harley.

The contrast was shockingly stark. Harley had no sheets on at all and was lying face-down on the bed, clad only in a pair of very snug, red boxer-briefs. His tight, round ass was perfectly on display and Tony bit his lip as Harley shifted and the muscles clenched. This was more like it. Harley was obviously just waking up, his phone chirping an alarm at him as he squirmed a little bit, stretching his legs out and groaning softly into the pillow before flipping over to turn it off.

Tony was greeted by a significant bulge which he barely had time to appreciate before Harley was palming it and arching into his own touch.

“Mmmm,” he moaned quietly, biting his lip as he squeezed a bit harder.

Tony was completely captivated. This was exactly what he was hoping for, and as Harley slipped a hand into his underwear Tony did the same. How he was going to look him in the eye again later that day he had no idea, but he could barely even process that thought right now. All he could think about was how good he looked, how soft and sleep-warmed, and fucking shit how big his cock was. Tony was stunned when Harley finally pulled his briefs down his legs and grasped his dick with one hand. It was thick and long and flushed red, and Tony’s mouth literally watered at the sight. He had always imagined being on top in any scenario involving the boys but god, what he wouldn’t do to get that dick in his mouth or his ass…

Harley stroked himself slowly, pausing every so often to spit in his palm. He seemed unhurried and relaxed, just enjoying the pleasure of a lazy morning handjob. His other hand wandered up and down his chest, flicking at his nipples or scratching lightly against his stomach. A few times he reached up to tug at his mop of sleep-mussed dirty blonde hair and Tony felt his own hand tighten, wishing he could touch him like that, too. Harley kept his eyes closed for the most part but a few times he blinked and seemed to focus directly on the camera lens. The first time it happened Tony tensed up, his hand ready to cut the feed, but it must have been a coincidence because Harley just kept going like before.

His noises started to get louder as he sped up his strokes and he reached down with his other hand to cup his heavy sac, tugging at it gently. Tony could see his hips start to jerk, and from the look on his face he was about five seconds from coming all over himself, so Tony sped up to match him. Unfortunately, before they could get there, both of them wrenched their hands away as Harley’s door flung open and Peter waltzed inside.

“Hey Harls, wanna go get brunch before we—”

He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the boy laid out on the bed. Harley stopped touching himself but made no effort to cover up, so he was completely naked and incredibly hard.

“Oh my god. Oh my GOD, I’m so sorry, fuck, I’ll… I just…”

Peter flushed bright pink but for some reason made no effort to turn and leave, which is probably exactly what Tony would have done if he walked in on his friend jerking off. Unless of course he was attracted to that specific friend and… oh. OH.

Harley seemed to come to the same realization and a slow, lazy smile crept across his face.

“Hey Pete,” he said, his voice scratchy with sleep and from the moans that were escaping earlier.

“I… I didn’t mean…” Peter’s voice was quiet, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Harley’s cock.

“I know. But you did sorta interrupt me. So, now that you’re here…”

Peter blinked at him owlishly.

“Wh-what?”

“Come on. I know we always talk about how fucking hot Tony is-“ excuse me WHAT “-but I’ve seen the way you look at me, too.”

Tony was reeling from the bomb that Harley so casually dropped. They talked about him? How had he never heard–?

“Shhh, Harley! We agreed, never in here! FRI hears everything.”

Ah-ha. Smart boys.

“Not really thinkin’ straight right now, Pete,” Harley said with a shrug. “If you don’t want to you can go, I promise I won’t make it weird, but—”

“NO! Uh. No. I…” Peter squirmed and bit his lip before he started slowly walking over to the bed.

Tony couldn’t believe his eyes. Was this really happening? He was half-tempted to ask FRIDAY if he was in a coma or hallucinating or maybe dead.

Peter was dressed in an oversized hoodie that Harley started to tug off as soon as he got close enough. They managed to get it off after a bit of a struggle, leaving him in tiny little sleep shorts that Tony had never seen before.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous, baby,” Harley said, grabbing at Peter’s waist and pulling him down for a wet kiss. Tony could hear everything, every slick filthy sound, and his dick which had softened briefly from the shock was now rock hard again.

“Really?” Peter whispered.

“You’re tellin’ me you haven’t picked up on ANY of the hints I’ve been droppin’? Christ, my flirting game is rusty.”

“I just… didn’t think…”

“Yeah, I know. It’s part of what I like so much about you. Innocent little flower,” Harley teased, kissing Peter on the nose and making him scrunch his face up.

“Oh my god Harley, I’m not that innocent!”

“Yeah? Prove it.”

Peter got a look on his face that Tony had definitely seen before, usually when either he or Harley challenged him to some task in the lab. Determination. Stubbornness. Boldness. He huffed out a little noise before pushing Harley back down on the bed, crawling down his body, and licking a thick, wet stripe up the length of his cock. Harley’s whole body jerked at the sensation and Peter looked up with a sly smile before taking the tip into his mouth and sucking.

“Fuckkkk, that’s it baby,” Harley groaned, throwing his head back against the pillow and scrabbling blindly for Peter’s hair to tug on which earned him a disapproving noise.

“Nuh-uh,” Peter tutted, pulling off him with a soft ‘pop’. “You want that, you have to look at me.”

Harley propped himself up on his elbows, one eyebrow raised, as he stared down at Peter who was pressing soft kisses all along his length.

“Is this better, princess?” he teased. Peter flushed a little but nodded as he took him back in his mouth. Harley dug one elbow into the mattress and with his other hand he curled his fingers back into Peter’s hair, pulling gently. Tony watched, completely mesmerized, as Peter got about halfway down his cock before he gagged and had to back off. There was no way the kid was going to get that thing all the way down his throat but god it was beautiful to watch him try. His lips were swollen pink from the abuse, spit-slick and oh so kissable. And Harley was a sight himself, obviously already on the edge from touching himself for so long but trying not to come too soon, his body tense and shiny with sweat.

“Oh god, Pete, your mouth…”

Peter hummed around Harley’s throbbing cock which made the older boy yelp and yank him off by the hair.

“Want more,” Peter whined, trying to take it in his mouth again, but Harley wouldn’t let him. He must be so close, Tony thought, palming his own cock just to get some relief. Usually he prided himself on being able to last however long his partner needed but fuck, he didn’t know how much more he could take. Thankfully, Harley seemed to be in the same position. He dragged Peter up into another searing kiss.

“Too close,” he murmured against Peter’s lips, “wanna come inside this sweet little ass. ‘S that ok?”

Peter nodded vigorously. “I’ve got lube in my room, I can—”

“In the drawer, over there,” Harley interrupted, pointing to his desk. Peter clambered off him so quickly he almost tripped and Harley laughed, but there was no malice in it. Tony got an exceptional view of Peter’s ass as he bent over to rummage through the drawer and could only image how Harley was going to fit his cock in there. Peter was already opening the bottle and squeezing lube on his fingers as he climbed back into Harley’s lap.

“You’re not gonna let me do that for you?”

“Not now. I know how much I need,” Peter said as he reached back to slide two fingers inside him, moaning as he pressed them as deep as he could.

“Well at least let me enjoy the show,” Harley said with a smirk, tapping at Peter’s hip until he squirmed around awkwardly to face the other direction in his lap. Harley groaned and squeezed at his pert little cheeks, spreading them apart while Peter fingered himself open. Tony watched his slick fingers move faster and faster and moaned out loud when Peter added a third, the high-resolution cameras picking up the perfect pink of his hole as it stretched around his thin digits. Harley threw his head back for a moment, eyes catching the camera again, and Tony could have sworn he smirked at it, but he was soon distracted by Harley slipping one of his fingers in alongside Peter’s.

“Ahhh!” Peter gasped, his hips shuddering as he sank down on their hands.

“You have gorgeous fingers babe, but it wasn’t gonna be enough. Come on, press in a little more, that’s it…”

It was only a few more minutes until Peter was whining and pulling at Harley’s wrist with his other hand until he slid his fingers out, letting Peter turn back around and position himself over his cock. Tony almost wished he had stayed the other way just so he could see every inch of it press inside, but this way he got to see his beautiful face. He’d have to invest in some mirrors for their rooms for the future… or maybe more cameras.

“You sure you’re ready?”

“Yeah, yes, please, want it,” Peter begged. Harley held his hips still with one hand and reached down to line himself up with the other. Tony could see the exact moment the head pressed past Peter’s tight muscle as his eyes flew open and he let out a choked-off gasp.

“Harleyyyyyy,” Peter whined, squirming his hips as Harley pushed up into him, getting those last few inches inside. He looked completely overwhelmed, his chest heaving and tears streaking down his cheeks.

“Aw look at you sweetheart, such a little crybaby, huh?”

“Am not,” Peter sniffed, slapping Harley on the chest which made the other boy laugh.

“Thought you said you wanted more?”

“I do! Fuck, Harls, it’s so big, feel so full…”

“Yeah? You like that big fat cock inside you?”

Peter blushed but he nodded fiercely, and he must have squeezed around him because Harley gasped and gripped his hips even tighter.

“Fuck yeah, just like that. Such a little slut,” Harley growled, jerking his hips up and jostling Peter forward. He braced himself with his hands on either side of Harley’s head and moaned as his flushed cock rubbed against Harley’s stomach. “You ready, baby?”

Peter nodded and leaned down to mouth wet kisses against Harley’s neck.

“P-please, move,” he whispered.

Harley started slow, fucking up into him with long, deep thrusts that jostled Peter’s whole body against his own. They tried to kiss but it was too messy, mouths barely connecting as Peter tried to meet Harley’s movements. It was uncoordinated, both of them trying to do what felt the best, and somehow Tony found that way sexier than if they immediately started fucking like porn stars. Peter whined with frustration as Harley kept knocking him out of his rhythm.

“Nnn, stop, lemme… fuck,” he groaned, as Harley grabbed his hips so tightly Tony could see the skin turn white and bucked up into him as deep as he could go.

“So fussy,” Harley rasped. “You wanna take control, hm?”

A flush of embarrassment creeped across Peter’s chest. He was like this even in the lab when they were all working together and he got excited about something, forgetting his sweet demeanour and ordering Harley and Tony around until he realized what he was doing. Tony usually just smirked and gave him a jaunty little salute but he would never tell him how hot it was. He was still shy about it, but obviously his need for pleasure won out and he pried Harley’s hands off of him, pressing them into the mattress.

Peter leaned back to grip Harley’s thighs as he worked his hips, slamming down against Harley, his dick jumping with every movement. Harley propped himself up on his elbows to watch this little display, a sexy smirk playing across his mouth as Peter rode him.

“God, look at you… so fucking gorgeous, baby,” he purred. “You close? Gonna come on my cock like a good boy?”

Tony groaned out loud at that. Fuck, Harley had an absolutely filthy mouth and he somehow knew exactly what to say to make Tony impossibly turned on.

Peter could only nod and whimper, and after a few more enthusiastic bounces he ground his hips down as much as he could, moving them in short little jerks to rub Harley deep against his insides. He must have been pressing right against his prostate because it didn’t take long for him to come with a high-pitched whine, shooting all over himself and Harley. Tony nearly came with him, just from the expression on his sweet face: eyes squeezed shut, mouth open, cheeks flushed… it was pure sin. Peter’s dick was still jumping and leaking when Harley grabbed his waist again and pulled him down for a kiss.

“That’s it, so good for me Pete,” Harley cooed, rubbing up and down his back and he shifted underneath him so he could plant his feet against the mattress. “I’m close too, baby, can I…?”

Peter nodded into his neck, fingers winding into Harley’s sweat-drenched hair, and he wiggled his hips a little just for good measure. Harley let out a grunt as he started fucking up into Peter’s pliant body in short little jerks. Tony matched Harley’s thrusts with his own hand, trying to imagine how tight and hot Peter must feel, how he opened for Harley’s huge cock so beautifully…

“Gonna come, gonna fill you up, so fuckin’ sweet darlin’, fuck!”

Tony got another gorgeous view of Peter’s face as Harley came deep inside him and he snapped his head up with a gasp and a lazy, fucked-out smile, practically drooling as Harley shuddered through his orgasm underneath him. It pushed Tony over the edge and he came moments after Harley, muffling his shout with one hand and making an absolute mess of his stomach. He came like he had been edging himself for hours and had to take a moment to slow his breathing before he could even look at the camera again. These boys were literally going to kill him. His heart could only take so much.

Which is why he nearly full-on passed out when Harley twisted his head around to look directly in the camera with a devilish smile on his face.

“Hi Tony. Did you like the show?”

Peter’s head jerked up again, his eyes wide as he looked to the door where he must have expected to see Tony standing.

“Wh-what, Harley, what are you—”

He followed Harley’s gaze to where the camera was, almost completely hidden unless you were looking for it, and he nearly choked.

“Oh my god,” he groaned, hiding in Harley’s neck as Harley chuckled, rubbing his back to comfort him.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, sweetheart. He’s wanted this since we got here. Got my phone all set up to notify me when you’re watchin’ the feed of my room,” Harley said.

That little shit.

“Figured I’d just give you a solo show today but then Pete here turned up and… well… happy early birthday I guess.”

Peter was still hiding, but he whispered something to Harley, so quiet the camera didn’t pick up the audio. Harley reached down and pulled his face up with a gentle finger under his chin and nodded. It must have reassured him enough to look up at the camera again although he was still bright red. He bit his lip as he raised himself off Harley’s softening cock, letting it slip out. Tony could see a pool of wetness where Harley’s come was dripping out of him and he groaned.

“I feel so empty already,” Peter said quietly, still staring at the camera. “Maybe you can help me with that, Mr. Stark?”

Harley laughed softly as he sat up enough to press a kiss to Peter’s abs and grab his phone from his night table, and then he cut the camera feed. Tony was left staring at his reflection in the blank screen. His softening cock was hanging out of his pants, stomach covered in cooling come, and his face was red from exertion. He was an absolute mess, but he had never felt so aroused.

“Be careful what you wish for, Peter,” he murmured to himself with a smile, cleaning himself up and already planning his next move.

[mistyyanne]

AIRPLANE MODE

peter parker x reader

words: 6.5K

warning!! smut!!!!

[hhh 2 days after watching far from home i had this really dirty dream so enjoy - first time showing my writing! let me know if you like it]

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something has been wrong with her ever since this flight took off

she's been super horny

thinking about porn-like fantasies in her head, she started to become wet and dripping in her seat

"i can't take this anymore," she thought as she stumbled to the bathroom. everyone was sleeping anyways

opening the bathroom door, what she did not expect, was peter parker, sitting in the toilet with his cock in his hand

she clenched around nothing, and felt arousal dripping down her thigh

"i- i" he started to stutter and his face started to grow extremely red

she quickly entered the bathroom with him and shut and locked the door

peter looked scared and confused, but that didn't stop his hard-on

"i think we're both very desperate," she started as she pulled off her shorts and underwear and showed him her panties

his eyes widened at the piece of cloth, completely drenched in her arousal. he looked up at her

"so why don't we help each other?"

soon, she was bent over the toilet cover, naked, with peter behind her

he saw her juices and arousal dripping down her thighs, so ready for him, and him only

he rubbed his length along her wetness and she whimpered at the contact

"shh, someone might hear" peter warned

she nodded her head, and put a hand on her mouth to keep her moans in

peter is panting and he can't hold back anymore, his cock was so hard it hurt

"are you ready?" he asked

she nodded, not trusting her voice

he grabbed his cock to align with her and slid in with no problem

he grunted quietly "you're so wet- fuck, you feel so good around me"

the way he filled her up relieved her aching emptiness, it made her moan into her hands and brought tears to her eyes

peter started to move, rough and hard from the start because of her dripping wetness, and the force hit her so hard that she needed both hands on the toilet cover

her mouth was open, silent screams coming from her throat, and when moans threatened to spill out, she clenched her teeth and started crying from the pleasure

the lack of moans made the room silent, but the quiet sounds of liquids squelching and skin slapping echoed through the air and rang in their ears

peter enjoyed the view from the back, his hooded, dark eyes enjoyed the way he can see his hands on her hips, her bare backside, and the point where he disappeared into her

he could go harder, and he hoped that there would be another time with her later, when he would go all out and make her scream his name and writhe underneath him

these thoughts just made him hornier and harder, and his mind clouded further with lust

though dazed, he can't forget the girl in front of him, taking him so well

her covered moans became more frequent, andit was apparent that she was close

"i-i'm cum-haaa~!"

she covered her mouth again to keep quiet, and he wished he could hear that sweet voice again, and the other dirty moans that could come out of her mouth

she screamed in her hand as she came and he rode her out of her orgasm, but he was still hard, possibly harder than before because of her

she panted, collapsed on the toilet seat, feeling complete, but unsatisfied with one round

she looked behind at him, with dark, lustful, eyes, smiling while she was panting from her fucked out state

he groaned, something about this girl made him horny, and always turned on

she looked at his cock, still hard and big

she collected herself and stood up

"sit down" she whispered to him

peter sat, and she helped him take off his shirt

she gaped at his abs, not expected a ripped body from a nerd like him

she put her hand on his chest, and straddled him, hovering over his cock

she touched it to align himself with her as she sank down on his cock, using her other hand to hold his shoulder to steady herself

he groaned quietly and held her hips, liking the way she always fit his hands

her eyes wandered to his biceps, clearly toned from some kind of work

as she sat down all the way, she leaned her head on his shoulder, and wondered when would someone smart like him have the time to get so fit

the thought was interrupted when he ground his hips against her's impatiently

"hmm-!"

still sensitive from the previous round, she moaned into his nape and moved her hips up and down for him

peter was in heaven right now and was focused on feeling her. he focused on how she smelled so sweet and felt so soft, he never noticed these things in school before

what mattered the most right now, though, was how she felt around him

he could never get enough of this feeling, but he needed some friction and ground his hips to send a message

once she started moving her hips, and moaned into his neck, he couldn't get enough of her

he needed more

he carried her with ease and she squeaked in surprise

he laid her on the small space of the toilet cover, just enough room to work with

he started to pound into her, and her face contorted into one of absolute ecstacy, letting out a silent scream. the new angle allowes him to reach places he couldn't before, bringing new heights of pleasure to the table

but he couldn't get enough of it

he needed more

peter parker was absolutely drunk off this girl, and he was addicted to the feeling of her velvet walls

he was getting close, and she was too

she looked up at him, so focused on chasing his high, thrusting with precision. her eyes trailed the sweat that dripped down from his neck, to his broad chest, to his delicious abs, and down to...

"oh~"

the full view of his cock entering her cunt, amplified her pleasure, feeling it and seeing it was a new experience and made her head dizzy, and the dirty noises that came from down there wasn't helping either. the sight was enough to send her to her orgasm

"i'm ge-getting close ha~! ah~ peter~!"

"ugh-!"

her voice sent him over the edge, and she came with him

when he pulled out, he saw their mixed juices overflowing out of her and he groaned quietly

he looked at her, and he enjoyed the sight of her fucked out, knowing that he did this work of art

he grabbed tissues and wiped her clean, she moaned quietly at the contact

once they were both cleaned up and dressed, well, almost dressed, she wasn't wearing panties

peter blushed at that thought and forced himself to stop thinking dirty things right after what they just did

she looked up at him and had a slight blush, and she looked pretty in her after glow of sex-

peter parker, stop it

despite all that, she looked a bit timid in front of him "thanks for that...and sorry that i kindof forced myself on you"

he shook his head "nonononono, i also wanted it, so..."

god why was he so awkward?

he took a deep breath before starting over "it helped the both of us, so don't worry about it"

she smiled at how cute he was, and felt relief that he wasn't inconvenienced

"well, i'll leave first, then you can come out later. i'll see you next time"

he was left alone in the bathroom again and a million thoughts ran through his head, but only two words rang like wedding bells:

"next time"

[kolasihq]

*QUICK INFO_

You’ll never guess who I just saw around DOWNTOWN DISTRICT! They looked exactly like LANA CONDOR but I overheard them introduce themselves as TRIXIE TRAN and say they were a TWENTY-FIVE year old CIS FEMALE that prefers SHE/HER pronouns. I think they’re an MUSICAL ACTRESS & BROADWAY COACH who has been living in the city for TWO MONTHS.

*HEAD CANONS_

(tw: addiction, panic attack)

The spotlight was Trixie’s second home. She had lost herself to the art of becoming someone else, from her first introduction to the stage at the of eight. An experience that was heightened by having the opportunity to work alongside her mother. Having spent her formative years making a name for herself in the world of Broadway and collecting Tony awards, Winnie Tran was delighted to have a daughter who wanted to be just like mommy when she grew up. When she got word that her current production of Les Mis was in need of a new young Cosette there was no one Winnie thought could play her daughter better than her own daughter, Trixie.

She’d only done a three week run, but Trixie was obsessed. When she was eleven she began following her mom to rehearsals, and  made sure to pay very close attention to the actors. Mouthing along and mimicking the hand gestures or the way their facial features would alter with certain lines of any character she could. And when she went home her work didn’t stop there. She’d ask her mom to read the specific parts to her and recite them back in different tones, and influxes of her voice; mewling them around her tongue until they felt right. At the time it was nothing more than a fun game to her parents. However, for Trixie, even without the amazed stares from a crowd, or the applause from the audience encouraging her, Trixie just knew she wanted to feel like that for her whole life.

She dove head first into the craft. The first class she signed up for in sixth grade was theater, choir was the second, and she somehow managed to arrange for the dance class to count as a P.E. credit. And though she made excelling in those three classes she didn’t let her grades slip. In her mind she was bound for the stage, and no bad grade would come in the way of it. Her parents were incredibly supportive of her aspirations. There was a joy her mother felt watching her daughter follow in her footsteps, and there wasn’t a thing her father enjoyed more than watching his little girl shine on stage. Even going as far as to let her audition for the role of Wendy Darling in Peter Pan on broadway, and they weren’t even surprised when she got it. All of Trixie’s hard work had led to a year early graduation, and an early acceptance into NYU.

Despite having two amazing experiences on Broadway, and growing up with Broadway legend that made the strip her second home; it was harder than she ever could have imagined. She came from a place where she knew her mother was one of the greats, but she didn’t know that everyone then would expect her to be just as great. She was talented, her professors and classmates gave her that, but she was in way over her head. Like most people in her class she’d been in dance classes, and singing lessons since she was a child; but because her mother was the Winnie Tran they expected her to have the experience of the Winnie Tran. She felt like she had to work five times as hard just to impress her peers, and stand out amongst the judges. Between auditions, homework, lessons, and rehearsals there didn’t seem to be enough minutes in the day. She always found herself wondering how it was everyone around her was bursting with energy, and then her roommate told her about the uppers.

It was meant to be nothing more than a temporary solution. Just something to push her through to graduation. A mantra she had told herself each time she popped a pill to get through a dance lesson, or a call back, until she stopped with the excuses all together. She didn’t graduate top of her class, but at least by the time she was done she had a name for herself. Each year she found herself in 2 musicals a year (in some cases a semester), and that’s nothing something that goes unnoticed. Everyone expected she’d be the first to make it to broadway when she left, and the off broadway productions she was lined for were mere stepping stones.

Proudly, she made it to broadway. After doing two off broadway productions, she landed the role as Regina George in Mean Girls The Musical but could only enjoy her success for a brief moment. Despite how much she wanted to give herself credit, she found herself attributing her success to the uppers she had started to use as a crutch. One night during one of her lasts shows of Mean Girls she had the misfortune of running out of the drug she relied so heavily on, and while on stage she panicked. Her first full out panic attack and she had no idea what was happening to her. She was lucky in that it hit just after the lights had been lowered, but there was enough people around for rumors to spark. And the fact that she couldn’t go on to finish the show didn’t help matters.

Eventually the news reached her mother whom she divulged everything to. However, Trixie wasn’t entirely honest. Making her addiction seem more recent than it actually was so they thought by putting her in outpatient therapy they’d have a better chance at getting a handle on it. So she continued on auditioning for new shows, faking her way through her therapy, and continuing to pop adderall whenever it all felt like she wasn’t doing enough. But her father soon found out how deep her addiction ran. At the same time she was casted in the role of Katherine Howard in Six on Broadway. To her father it was a terrible idea to let her continue, but her mother thought it to be the perfect cover story. They’d only let her do six or seven shows out of the month, and the rest of her time would be spent in Vesta, Michigan to be rehabilitated under the guise that she would be offering inexpensive Broadway coaching to future Broadway prospects.

*PERSONALITY_

POSITIVE TRAITS: Ambitious, Hardworking, Optimistic, Confident

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Spoiled, Entitled, Bossy, Deceitful,

*QUOTE_

Do you think this is a good outfit for changing history?

[venetum]

Monachopsis - Prologue

a peter parker x harley keener fanfic

read on ao3

prologue:

Tony was sat in his lab working on the schematics for a new Spider-Man suit when eighteen-year-old Harley made the front page of his first tabloid. It wasn’t completely unexpected, of course, especially with the high degree of interest held by the internet and the media when it came to Tony Stark’s adopted son, but he’d never expected to see quite such a familiar scene staring back at him.

His son was splayed across the couch in what looked to be a booth in some high-end club or the other, one of his hands up a girl’s skirt and the other gripping the shirt of the boy he was kissing, the blurring caused by the poor lighting doing little to conceal the group.

Tony had simply shaken his head, asking Friday to get rid of the image and making a mental note to check in on Harley later. It had been the first time something like this had been caught on camera, after all. It’d be best to make sure something like that didn’t happen again. Not that he thought he had anything to worry about, of course. Teenagers made mistakes all the time, and he was sure Pepper could have the PR side of the situation handled within a matter of seconds.

Fast-forward a couple of years, Tony couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at how naïve he’d been. With the now innumerable tabloid covers that Harley was featured on in various less-than-favourable positions displayed on the hologram in front of him, Tony couldn’t help but wonder how he hadn’t noticed that his son was headed right down the same fucked-up path he’d travelled all those years ago. It had taken nearly dying multiple times and a rather determined Pepper Potts to get Tony to come to his senses, and he was determined that he wasn’t going to let his kid waste away the rest of his life.

It had started off with what Tony and Pepper had both assumed to be harmless high school parties, and escalated over the years as Harley fell in with the wrong crowd, a group of well-bred assholes with a penchant for partying that Tony recognised almost too well. His kid had been heading down the same fucked-up path as him for nearly three years, and Tony hadn’t noticed until it was too late.

It had been easy for Tony to believe the kid was better than him—perhaps Tony had simply hoped that the kid might have learnt from Tony’s mistakes—but after returning from a rather harrowing meeting with the board of directors at Stark Industries and having found Harley drunk at Morgan’s birthday party only the day before, the pair had been provided with the reality check they sorely needed.

When Tony and Pepper had floated the idea of bringing Harley into work for SI after graduation, allowing them to groom him to take over from Pepper in a few years and lessen their involvement slightly, there had been vehement denial from the board. It wasn’t that any of them doubted the potential the young Stark presented, nor did they deny that he was the right person for the job, provided he could leave his bad habits behind when he graduated. No, it was his reputation the board had a problem with. SI had already had to suffer under the reign of one playboy addict, they’d told the pair, and would be damned if it did so once again. Harley would have to clean up his act, both in and outside of the tabloids, in order for them to even consider his position as future CEO of the company. Having been told this by outsiders after the antics his son had already pulled that weekend had reenforced the severity of Harley’s problem in the mind of the couple.

So there they sat, Tony slumped down on the sofa in Pepper’s office, his gaze resting heavily on the images in front of him and for a split second Tony couldn’t help but wish that Harley had turned out more like his other (unofficial) son. He couldn’t help but wish that Harley had been a bit more like Peter. Peter who would have never shown up wasted to his five-year-old sister’s birthday party in the middle of the day, who the board would have had no problem with appointing to any role within the company. But the thought vanished as fast as it had appeared, however, because deep down Tony knew that he wouldn’t replace Peter or Harley for the world.

He sighed, running his hand over his beard as he tried to come up with a solution to their conundrum. He turned to Pepper.

“What do we do?”

Pepper took a seat next to Tony.

“Honestly? I don’t know. Putting the board aside for a second, Harley obviously needs help. But he’s also one of the most stubborn people I know. He isn’t just going to accept that he has a problem, especially when it hasn’t been noticeably interfering with his day-to-day life.”

Tony nodded, “The kid’s too smart for his own good, but not in the ways that count, apparently. We’re going to have to be sneaky about this. Start by cleaning up his reputation in the press, maybe, and go from there. The sooner we get him away from those friends of his, the better.”

Pepper pursed her lips. “That’s going to be harder than you think. The media loves the outrageous headlines he provides them with on a daily basis. Whatever we do is going to have to be pretty big.” She turned her gaze to the hologram in front of the two, swiping away the images on the screen and immediately jotting down ideas for ways to work on Harley’s image.

In the meanwhile, Tony allowed his gaze to travel before it settled on the pictures Pepper had on her desk of Harley and Peter when the pair had both still been in high school, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and ready to take on the world by storm.

“What if…” Tony began, biting his lip as his gaze lingered on the picture. “What if we had the kid date Peter?”

(A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed the prologue! Shoot me a message to be added to the tag list for this fic or if you guys just want to talk!)

Tags:

@livinglife1516  @philipshaaayyyy @parkneroses @mauverawrites @walk-in-the-parkner

[writer-or-whatever]

Can you please recommend more Spiderson/Irondad fanfics other than the one post? please😄!

I absolutely can! 

So now I bring you part two of the Irondad & Spiderson Fic Rec: 15 more Irondad fics in no particular order. 

A Horrific Game of Hide and Seek by Buckets_Of_Stars

Aside from feeling strange and having his Spidey Sense go off every five seconds, Peter is having a pretty good week. His Dad is home and he can even hang out with his friends more.Too bad things don’t stay that way.One mistake as Spider-Man changes everything and the teenager realizes the importance of always listening to his gut. Because that might be the very thing keeping him safe.

word count: 15k

tw: graphic descriptions of violence

A Stark Contrast To The Expected by Buckets_Of_Stars

When Peter and Tony leave the Annual Stark Charity Event, they are expecting to have a relatively quiet night in the Tower, away from the demanding crowds and invasive News Reporters. But when they become the target of one man's drunken hatred, things quickly take a turn for the worst.

word count: 9k

tw: graphic descriptions of violence

And You’re Miles Away by losingmymindtonight

College is scary, even for teenage superheros.

word count: 3k

Can we skip to the good part? by yourgaydad

A day after his sixteenth birthday Peter finds out that Tony Stark is his biological father. But what the hell is he supposed to do now?

***

If Peter said that he never thought about Mr. Stark as his dad he would be lying. He didn’t do it consciously of course. It was just those things at the back of his head that sometimes got closer to the surface. But whenever a thought like ‘Wonder what dad would say’ or ‘Is dad picking me up today?’ occurred, he felt extremely embarrassed about it.

Now, instead of being ecstatic about Mr. Stark being his father, the boy felt agitated at just the thought of talking to the man. What was he going to think? That Peter wanted more attention? Money? His name?

word count: 23k

Congratulations, it's a Boy by capiocapi

"Sir, I have the results.”

“Okay, Jarvis. Hit me.”

“It’s a match. 99.9% chance that he is your biological son, which is the percentage needed to be recognized by law as a biological parent.”

Tony’s stomach did a funny swooping dance. “Great. Congratulations to me then, eh? It’s a boy.”

word count: 45k

Heed my senses, I can't do it alone by Webtrinsic

Peter thought things were going his way, he really did. His relationship with Tony was going great, his grades were steady, May was supporting his heroic debuts and his friendship with Ned had never been stronger.

But when the man lurking in the shadows, whose all-consuming addiction to the senses affiliated with the red and blue vigilante kidnaps him, things quickly go south.

In the meantime, Tony's fearful he'll never find the boy he's come to see as his son.

Will Peter ever be alright? Tony's not sure, but he'll do everything and anything to ensure that boy's well-being.

He just hopes the world isn't too much. It's Tony against the world, and for Peter, he'd win every time.

word count: 19k

tw: graphic descriptions of violence, implied/referenced rape/non-con, implied/referenced suicide attempts

Oh Father, I Have Never Known A Darkness So Intense by mermaidbigfoot

A fire claimed everything Peter had known. Tony get’s custody of Peter but nothing is okay.

word count: 2k

Promotions Aren't Always A Good Thing by agib

"When Peter was almost thirteen, May met Carter." "Not too many months after Carter moved in, May got a promotion at work."

When May gets a new boyfriend, Peter's okay. When Carter moves in, he can deal. When May gets a promotion so she works days and Carter works nights, Peter finds it harder to deal. When Carter starts abusing him, he begins to feel crushed by the weight of it all.

word count: 67k

tw: abuse, graphic descriptions of violence

Spaghetti With A Side Of Panic by Buckets_Of_Stars

Getting all A’s in the Stark household used to be a requirement, something exspected of a young Tony, genius kid prodigy. It was always brushed off, made to further elevate Howard’s immaculate reputation.

Now, however, it was a cause for celebration, one where Peter, Tony and Happy would go out to dinner and stuff their faces with as much spaghetti as they could.

Too bad no one told Peter that garlic kills spiders.

word count: 3k

tw: near death experiences, graphic descriptions of violence

Spider-Like by possiblyobsessed

Tony Stark and Peter Parker discover/talk about the less convenient and lesser known effects of the spider bite. Because getting bitten by a radioactive spider can't have all good effects.

word count: 4k

The Black And The Blue (All That It Takes Out Of You) by Buckets_Of_Stars

David wasn't a person Peter would ever want to be around, but with him being May's new boyfriend and all, it makes it harder and harder to avoid him. But it was fine, May was happy and of course, Peter still has Tony.

But that was before the hitting started. Before David spit neglectful words in his face and the spiderling begins to question his very worth.

Tony, on the other hand, is not having it.

word count: 4k

tw: graphic descriptions of violence, child abuse

The Chilling Realities Of Hunting And Being Hunted by Buckets_Of_Stars

All Peter and Tony had to do was cross the mountains. That’s it. Just climb a few hills and get to the Convention. They didn’t count on the snow, or the wind, or the fact that neither of them have cell service.

And they definitely didn’t count on the fact that they would be hunted—stalked—as they sit, freezing and shaking, on the side of the road.

word count: 13k

tw: stalking, graphic descriptions of violence

The Education Complication by Buckets_Of_Stars

When young Peter Stark was diagnosed with Asthma, he was given two very important rules to always follow:

1. No long distance running. 2. Always have your inhaler with you.

But when a new Gym Teacher with a hatred toward Iron Man gets hired, the 13 year old is going to find that following these two simple steps has never been more difficult.

word count: 3k

tw: graphic descriptions of violence

The World Is Wide (But I Feel So Small) by Buckets_Of_Stars

When Peter is abruptly taken from Tony by a mysterious criminal, the teen has to fight tooth and nail to make it out of the man's clutches, testing him every step of the way as he tries desperately to get back to his Dad.

Tony just wants to find his child and make the bastard responsible pay for his actions.

By any means necessary.

word count: 26k

tw: graphic descriptions of violence

Words Echo (Through My Head) by Buckets_Of_Stars

A quick stop at the Avengers Compound quickly becomes something much more when Peter and Tony meet up with Steve Rogers.

And he is not happy.

word count: 6k

tw: graphic descriptions of violence

Now that I’ve written all this out, I’ve realized that a lot of these are by Buckets_Of_Stars, but they’re some of my favorites so... oh well I guess. 

[chokememrstark]

A Chance // Starker

Words: ~ 1,8k

Summary: When Tony meets the kid for the first time, it’s under very unfortunate circumstances and he doesn’t think he will ever see him again. That is, until about a year later the very same boy comes to his tower, surprising him more than he expected.

Warnings: mugging, fluff, caring!tony, homeless!peter

Note: Just a random little fic I wrote a while ago. Probably more irondad than anything else, but we all know what’s gonna happen eventually, don’t we?

The first time Tony met the boy, it was at gunpoint. He walked home, minding his own business and suddenly heard a demanding voice behind him and felt the cold metal press against his skull.

“Your money, now!”

Being robbed or mugged wasn’t really something Tony was used to - and if anyone dared, he usually made sure to keep his money and a few teeth from the one trying shit with him, but for some reason, he didn’t this time. Instead he reached into his pocket and pulled his wallet out, handing it over.

“Just take it, but don’t shoot,” he said calmly, his hands still up.

The wallet was taken almost frantically and after a few seconds he heard a quiet ‘Oh shit’ - obviously when whoever robbed him opened it to check how much money he got. Tony couldn’t help the smirk and when he was handed his wallet back - which was surprising enough - he felt the gun to his head lower. But, instead of leaving, the one who just robbed him just stood there, so long that Tony eventually turned around to look at him. And when his eyes fell on the boy that stood behind him, nearly sobbing over the bundle of money in his hand, Tony felt something in his chest tighten.

“You okay, kid?” he asked, not quite sure what to do otherwise.

The boy who robbed him was a child, nothing else fit. Thirteen, maybe fourteen, Tony knew the kind usually. They were runaways, drug addicts, looking fucked up beyond anything. But this one was different. The kid looked like he couldn’t harm a fly and for a moment, Tony wondered if the gun was actually real or not, but that didn’t matter right now, did it? No, the kid was close to tears and somehow that got to him.

“Hey, it’s fine,” he said with a smile. “You can have it, it’s all good. I have more where that came from.”

At this, the boy finally looked up and Tony’s breath hitched for a moment. He looked into the saddest and most innocent doe eyes imaginable, tears in the corners that were ready to fall any second. Tony feared the boy would actually burst into tears any moment and he didn’t want that.

“Come on, I really don’t mind,” he said quickly, for whatever reason patting the boy’s shoulder. “You need it more than I do, kid. Just… try to find a way to do it without that thing.” He nodded towards the gun in the boy’s hand, cracking a weak smirk. “Not good if you meet the wrong guy, you know?”

The kid looked at him for a moment longer and Tony almost thought he saw relief in his eyes, before he turned around and ran as fast as he could. Tony didn’t see him again for quite some time.

The next time he crossed the boy’s eyes it was nowhere other than his own home - or rather, at the Stark Tower, which really made no difference in the end. He just came back from his nightly patrol through the area when he got the message from Jarvis.

“Sir, you have a visitor waiting for you.” Toy blinked confused as he got out of his suit. A visitor? It was past ten, who the hell would be visiting now apart from Pepper and Pepper never needed his permission to enter?

“Who is it?” Tony asked as he walked across the landing platform slowly.

“A young man named Parker, sir. I told him you were out, but he insisted to wait for your return.”

Parker? Tony never heard that name before. What on earth could some random guy want from him at this time of the day?

“Did he say why he insists on seeing me?” he asked curious, but Jarvis was not much of a help.

“I’m sorry, sir. He simply insisted that meeting you is essential and made it clear that he is willing to wait.”

“Fuck,” Tony growled as he stepped into the penthouse and immediately got himself a drink. Situations like this never turned out good, he had enough experience to know that. “Where is he?” he finally asked, putting the glass to his lips.

“In the elevator, sir,” Jarvis informed him nonchalantly. “He’s been there for an hour now.”

Great, a stalker! Could this day turn any better?

“God, let him in. I’ll listen to what he wants and then throw him out again,” Tony growled and emptied his glass in one go without even realizing it. “Ten in the fucking evening, as if there’s not a better time, Jesus Christ…”

Tony expected the worst, literally, but what he didn’t expect was the young man that stepped out. He was actually frozen for a moment because he recognized that face. It’s been almost a year, but he wouldn’t forget it, never. There wasn’t even a single question in his mind when he walked towards the boy and pulled him into his arms. Why? He had no idea, but it felt like the right thing to do. When he let go, the kid looked even more scared than before when he stepped into the penthouse and Tony felt his heart ache.

“I expected to see anyone but not you,” he said a bit awkwardly, flashing the kid a smile. It took a long moment before the other even looked up and when he did, he had a similar sad look on his face as the first time.

“I hope I don’t bother you, sir,” he said quietly and wrung his hands. “I just… came to thank you.”

“For what?” Tony asked, sending a wave of confusion over the boy’s face.

“You… you remember me, right?” he asked carefully, almost as if he had walked into the wrong billionaire’s tower on accident.

“Sure do,” Tony said with a smile. “I told you to be more careful with your toy, didn’t I?”

The kid blushed and bowed his head, but eventually nodded. “I… I was…” he admitted quietly. “I thought I was dreaming but… I wasn’t. You helped me a lot, sir.”

Tony’s smile softened and he stepped up to the boy, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “Tell me about it,” he said in his most friendly tone, his confusion and anger barely there anymore now. He led the boy over to the couch to sit him down before getting them both something to drink - a whiskey for himself and a coke for the kid. “What happened after you made my wallet a bit lighter?”

The boy blushed even harder at this, refusing to look up. “I never wanted to do that, really,” he started ashamed, turning the can of coke in his hands nervously. “I just… didn’t know what else to do. I was hungry and cold, no one wanted to help me… and then I met you.”

Tony’s chest tightened once more. This poor kid. Luckily he did meet him and not some psycho. How much worse could things have turned in that case?

“Were you able to use the money you got from me?” Tony asked and the kid nodded.

“I… I got a room for a week, at a cheap pension. Still expensive, but I could sleep and shower and… eat.” He swallowed hard at the last word, as if eating wasn’t on his daily schedule during that time.

“Got no family?” Tony asked carefully and the boy shook his head slowly. “Yeah, me neither,” Tony sighed. “Sucks making it on your own.”

“Yeah,” the boy said and sighed. “I had like… nine hundred bucks from you left? I tried to get as far as possible with it. And then… I got my scholarship.”

“Scholarship?” Tony asked curious, raising a brow. For the first time, the kid’s face lit up and he turned his head.

“MIT,” he said, not without a hint of pride in his voice. “Full scholarship, no additional payments apart from living.”

“Shit,” Tony hissed and his eyes widened. That was something! “You got enough for that?”

“No,” the boy smiled sadly and then let out a disappointed laugh. “But that’s not why I’m here, not at all. I wanted to thank you… for giving me some hope back. I would’ve never gotten this scholarship without you and even if I can’t accept it, it’s nice to know I’m not all worthless.”

“The hell you won’t accept it!” Tony said strictly, a serious expression on his face. The kid looked up confused and slightly intimidated. “You got a scholarship for MIT? You’re fucking going there! They don’t give out these things to nobodies, if you don’t go you’ll never forgive yourself!”

“I’d love to, but as I said, I can’t pay for a room on campus or any other and it’s… a bit shitty to live on the street while going to college, you know?” The boy shrugged as if it was nothing, but for Tony it surely wasn’t.

“Jarvis, get someone to prepare the guest room,” Tony said sharply and then eyes the kid for a moment. “And fill the wardrobe. Size M, anything that screams ‘I’m gonna fuck the MIT up’.”

“Of course, Sir,” Jarvis replied, a disembodied voice that obviously startled the kid.

“What are you doing?” he asked shocked, staring at Tony as if he had lost his mind.

“You got a scholarship for the MIT and no place to stay?” Tony asked and the kid nodded slowly. “Well, congrats. You just found one. No additional costs, unless you touch my stuff. I won’t let you waste such an opportunity just because you don’t know where to live.”

“But… you don’t know me.” The kid looked at him with wide eyes, unable to process what was happening right now. “I… I robbed you!”

“Kid, I’m Iron Man,” Tony said and gave the boy an amused smirk. “I could have stopped you within seconds. And I’m not gonna let some bad luck destroy the future of someone who deserves so much better.”

There was a long moment of silence before the boy threw himself at Tony and hugged him tightly, sobbing against his chest. All Tony could make out were the words ‘Thank you’ and ‘I don’t deserve this’, but it was enough for him to pat the kid’s back and smile warmly.

“You deserve this chance and so much more,” Tony assured him and rubbed his hand over the kid’s back. “Just don’t waste it, okay? You obviously got the brains, now show me that I’m not being a dumb fool for believing you can use that potential.”

“I won’t, I promise I won’t!” the boy sobbed and somehow, that made Tony feel a bit warm on the inside. Yes, this kid had a bright future ahead of him, he just needed some help. And Tony would happily provide it. After all, who didn't need a bit of support sometimes, right? And he really liked the kid. Who knew, maybe the way they ran into each other could lead to something good in the end.

[sparkly-angell]

Stuckony Fic Rec because why not

*= series

ATTENTION! LOST ARM (If found please contact:) by Fakesheep-luna Teen, 8k Bucky doesn't understand why everyone is so worked up. He just went out for a few drinks, made some new friends and passed out in a dumpster. No big deal! "No big deal??" Steve squeaks, throwing his hands up in the air "You lost your arm! And you don't even remember how!" "Well, at least it wasn't the good one."

Guys!! This fic is comedy approved! its really good, made me laugh a lot, and the plot? amazing. Go read!

Break In by Tenspencerriedplease 7k Scott Lang, at least, understood why Tony hated this stupid job so damn much. He had a Masters degree in engineering but Tony was working on a PhD. Unfortunately for him even with his previous experience and schooling- good schooling- he was stuck working in a knockoff version of McDonald’s meets Subway. At least he works there until he meets Steve and Bucky.

askfjnsfdjsn aaaaaaaa I love gang AU and this one is Great. Highly recomend!

Brooklyn Boys - Bakey Au* by Quicksylver28 Teen/Mature 27k Tony is a bachelor college professor who walks into Steve and Bucky's Bakery/ Cafe. Awkward Flirting ensues.... and fluff, we wont forget the fluff.

ITS SO SWEET! Pun intended. Gosh, I wish I could eat all those baked goods. Sounds delicious. Anyways, the fic is sweet. Peter is a good friend.

Bruises and Drunken Heart Tattoos by Akira_of_the_twilight Teen, 6k An older man in his thirties was standing over Bucky with a bottle of aspirin in one hand, and the fingers of his other hand still gripping the rim of the cup he’d set down on the nightstand. Amber eyes blinked at Bucky in mild surprise. The man’s lips curved into a teasing smirk. “I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

I wanna hug Tony so hard over the course of this fic. It’s cute the way they fall in love. And it’s also funny. 

Canvas, Ink & Paint* by Ficlicious Teen, 11k Bucky's got one goal: to rescue a captured SHIELD agent and get out before the guards realize he's not one of them. Unfortunately, apparently he's also got soulmates, and when their messages and sketches start appearing on his skin, his mission becomes a complicated mess of trying not to get caught covered in their ink.

!!!!!! I love soulmate aus and this fic is one of my favorites!! Poor Bucky, tho, he was just trying to do his work. Go read!! 

Carrier by Just_another_tinker Explicit, 49k Steve and Bucky gift Tony with their jacket that survived from the 1940's. Turns out that wasn't the only thing that survived.

YALL. SO. MUCH. ANGST. and with a happy ending? someone said Pining? PERFECTION. I love the group dimensions in this fic. 

Comic Books and Kings by Ashes0909 Explicit, 10k Tony Stark read Captain America comics and everyone knew it, but it was only ever about Bucky Barnes.

Freacking great! Tony having a crush on Bucky before his crush on Steve? Godsent. 

Coffee Love* by Syriala Good, 8k Tony thought his best day was when Steve walked into the coffee shop he was working in. That was until Bucky came in a few days later.

The fluff!! The flirting!! Their kind of pining! *heart eyes*

Cried For Love (Can’t Stand It) by Potrix Explicit, 7k Bucky braces his hands on his hips, and tilts his head to the side, expression caught somewhere between anxious, confused, and nervous. “Well, shit.” “Yeah,” Steve agrees, worrying at his bottom lip, and rubbing at the back of his neck. “That can’t be good.”

Steve and Bucky become spirits and Tony blames himself (which he shouldn’t but thats Tony for you). I love this fic a loooot! (and i wanna hug tony a loooot too)

Difficult Conversations by Yumekiumono Mature, 34k HYDRA had brainwashed their Asset into silence, and then muzzled him to boot. It's not that surprising that Bucky no longer considers talking to be one of his strong suits. So why does he keep having to have difficult conversations? Or, the road to loving Tony Stark is never an easy one.

!!! Man! Tony/Bucky is strong in this fic, but also Steve is there and he is cute. Ive read some WinterIron fics with a similar plot, but the fact that this is Stuckony makes it 100% better. 

Don’t Say It by Bibliomaniac Teen, 35k Tony Stark is autistic and nonverbal. Which is fine, obviously, except for it means that Steve and Bucky don't have his words, and it only takes him a few minutes to decide they don't need to know he has theirs. That's also totally and definitely fine, until he goes and falls in love with them.

So. Fuckin. Good! Soulmate au. Its a must read fanfic. For real. The pining and the angst. Gosh, Tony is the best fuckin person. He doesn’t deserve all this pain.

Eagles by Spqr Teen, 6k Natasha presses her hand over her heart, and – Tony has heard rumors, that her skin is blank, or that she killed her other half, but he doesn’t believe them. “They deserve to know, don’t you think?” “They’ve been together for ninety years, Nat,” he says. “They’re practically married. There’s no room for me.”

Gosh!! Another soulmate au. Me addicted in them? yes. This one hurts more. I think i really cried while reading it. But has a happy ending so its worth it! 

From Winter’s Cold by 27dragons Explicit, 64 Thanks to one of Thor's crazy stalkers, Tony finds himself stranded in the past. If he significantly changes the course of history, he might never get home again. The choice, when it appears, turns out to be not nearly as difficult as he might have expected.

I simply love this fic. One of my personal favorites! Tony is taken back to 1945 and he finds no one other than.... Bucky. Go read! 

Liebestraum No.3 in A Flat by Daecyan_Shikoba Teen, 10k I humbly request to the pianist: Liebestraum No.3 in A flat

Im actually just doing this rec because of this fic. sfdjnsdkjfsn i love it SO much. Pianist Tony has a crush on his neighbours and has anonymous requests to play the piano. Its great. This fic is so relaxing to read.  

Long Distance by Notevenclosetostraight Explicit, 44k At the end of a bad day, Tony gets drunk and texts Rhodey all his woes. Except he typed the wrong number, and has been texting someone named Steve– who is blond, 28, teaches art and somehow charmed by Tonys drunk rambles.

Go read!!!!!!!! Its cute, full of sexy times and fluff. 

Hands by ezazahaz Teen, 1k He pushed harder, feeling the suit start to crack under his metal hand, the arc reactor giving way. Just a bit more force, and it might push through the grafted skin and false sternum that had replaced the device that had once been a part of the man. This time, instead of saving the man's heart, it would crush it, and he could never hurt Bucky again, never hurt Steve again. Bucky has a nightmare.

I know this one is smoll. But! it’s full of emotion and hurt/comfort. It’s cute. Mostly Bucky/Tony

Hollowness by amobisan Explicit, 63k It feels like a hollowness, when Tony first realizes. First sees. And the first thought, the first thought his useless, traitorous, genius brain can come up with was "At least this time when he leaves, it wasn't your fault."

So. Many. Feels. Tony is so selfless and sad it’s painful. But there’s also so much fluff!!! And a Lot of sexy times. 

How Good You’ve Got It by Orphan Account Mature, 2k Tony was only trying to work on deciphering Loki's power signature, which admittedly what Steve would call 'poking an angry brown bear with a pointy stick'. But if he could just- Shit. It wasn't supposed to do that.

Goddamn. One of my favorite fics!! I’ve already reread this like, three times. It’s small, I know, but the plot? Incredible.

Me through Him to You* by sahiya Teen/Explicit, 71k “You’re sick, you need someone to look after you. This mission could take a couple of days, and I want you in one piece when I get home.” Tony sighed. “Why do you care?” Steve’s mouth twisted unhappily. “I hope that’s the fever talking.” He stepped closer. “When I get home,” he said, so quietly that Tony didn’t think even the nosiest of their nosy friends could hear it, “we’re going to talk, all right? Until then, please let Bucky look after you. Consider it me looking after you, through him.”

First fic: sick fic, sick fic, sick fic!! Fluff!!! Love! Second fic: all. the. angst. you never knew you needed, with ahappy ending, tho. 

Not Like That At All by Catchclaw Explicit, 8k One last gig. That’s what Steve tells himself this'll be.

Hilarious! I s w e a r it’s so funny. I mean- theres a lot of smut that happens but the end? comical. And sweet. Go read!

One Date Wonder by Arukou Explicit, 20k Every week, the same guy comes into Steve and Bucky's diner and every week, he's got a new date on his arm. Guy just can't seem to catch a break, and after a particularly bad date, Steve and Bucky start taking matters into their own hands to help him out.

Sweet, cute, fluffy! Poor Tony I want to hug him :’( Amazing Diner!Au, a must read.

Pretend You Don’t Know Me!  by Aknightofagoodking Teen, 16k Peter forgets that his class is taking a field trip to Stark Tower. Tomorrow. ["So you want us to pretend we don't know you that well?" Mister Stark asks, looking somewhat unhappy. "Yes! Exactly! Pretend I'm actually just an intern. Can you do that for me, please?"]

Ok, so this focus more on Peter. But Stuckony as Peter’s dad? Isn’t that just the best thing in the world? 

Scientific Heresy by Antigrav_vector Mature, 34k In the process of running the particle accelerator in his basement and fixing the arc reactor, Tony finds himself flung into the past where he has to take on a fight not his own if he wants to get home to stop Vanko. At least he had a chance to replace the old rector that had been killing him with the new one before everything went sideways... But now he has no choice but to face off with family, friends, and old heroes, and none of that sounds remotely appealing. Well, okay, getting to meet them all during their glory days kinda does.

AAAA Ok, I love time travel stories, so i might be biased a little, but this is the best!! There’s a lot of action scenes which are great and engaging. It’s a must read. 

That Damn Flight Suit by Orphan Account Explicit, 2k James and Steve make a very interesting discovery about what really is under the Iron Man suit. Cue awkward boners, oblivious Tony, and slightly possessive super-soldiers who really don't want to share his...assets... with the world.

I mean- It’s smut. 

The Sex Shop Around the Corner by sadieb798 Mature, 16k Tony really hates his job. When he tries to figure out what he wants to do next, Tony decides that instead of making weapons for war, he should make things for pleasure. So he decides he's going to open his own sex shop.

cmon, tell me this isn’t the best au out there. skdjfsdkfsn but for real tho, the fic is full of fluff, some pining and kind of a mis communication? perfect. 

The Shirt by Sailorchibi Explicit, 3k How an impulsive decision that Tony made at sixteen and an equally impulsive decision that Tony made at forty-three combined to have the best outcome ever.

Smut. Again. But its damn good as well.

The Stories We Write by Notevenclosetostraight Mature, 33k A question at an interview leads to Steve and Bucky discovering fan fiction, and after piles of coffeeshop au's and fake dating tropes (and screaming over ABO fics) they find an author that writes some of the best fics they've ever read-- reader inserts starring a dark haired, dark eyed male reader as their shared love interest.

This fic is so freacking amazing!! Steve and Bucky are such nerds. Tony is mostly unaware until--

Thats it!!! Hope you enjoy reading them all :) If you want more, you know where to find me ;)

[snarkythewoecrow]

2020 Year in Review

@metalbvcky tagged me and it seemed fun, and I needed something to do while eating snacks and avoiding writing. It’s turning out harder than I thought to write fae!Bucky. 

Anyhoo! On with the questions!

Total number of completed stories

Wow. I’ve posted 40 stories in 2020. That seems like a lot.

Total number of words

Again. Wow. I wrote 253,561 words this year.

Fandoms written in

Marvel (Mostly Irondad, but Stucky and some other pairings too)

The Old guard (though it was only one short fic)

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected?

Definitely more than I expected. I forget they all add up. Like it’s so crazy to me that my total ao3 word count is over 800k now. 

What’s your own favourite story of the year?

I love so many of them, but I think right now my fav is Longing to Love You. I just adore that story. It’s surprisingly canon given that Bucky has horns. It follows their lives up until post The Winter Soldier. It just makes me so happy to reread. The whole experience of writing was great, and I now I’ve started a fae!Bucky story because I’ve fallen in love with creature!bucky stories. 

Did you take any writing risks this year?

Not really, but then, kinda? I wrote a gritty Peter is addicted to heroin story that wasn’t pretty and it got some visceral reaction. It’s called Looking for normal, but finding shards of glass.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year?

I think I am going to embrace to my smutty inner self and try to write some more adult fanfics.

I want to finish my fae!Bucky story

Most popular story of the year.

My top kudos stories of the year were all part of my Broken Wings series. It’s been a crazy popular series for me. 

Though Parent Teacher Conference deserves a mention because it drew a bunch of kudos. 

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

I think I would say Longing to Love You, and that can be for a lot of reasons. It was a different story. Bucky had horns. I probably could have tagged it better. Do I think people might like it if they could find it easier and see past the horns, yeah, probably. But I’m happy with the readers I had. I’ve stories with nearly 4k kudos and stories with only 30 kudos, and I have come to just be happy with whatever I get. I write for me first and foremost, so as long as I love the story, it’s cool.

Most fun story to write.

I think I loved writing them all and had a lot of fun. Even my short stories, for the little time I am writing them, it’s just me and the words, and it’s like we have this little romance. While I write, I tend to love whatever I am working on and really enjoy it. It’s a lot of fun. When I’m done, I sorta break up with that story and move on. For the moment I’m writing them, they were all the most fun. 

Most unintentionally telling story:

I think the one I wrote the other night was. Repeat After Me. It was a story about addiction and Adderall abuse, and I really ended up putting a lot of my own experiences into, even though I hadn’t really planned to. 

Biggest Surprise.

Well, I have surprised myself with how much I like writing smut. And it never fails to surprise me the response I have gotten for writing in general. People are so kind and supportive, and I would do anything for my readers because they are so nice. 

--

I just want to say that despite this year having some major hiccups, I have also made some great friends and grown as a writer. I’ve poured all my stress and anxiety into writing, and without being able to tell stories, I don’t know how I would have survived the year. And @metalbvcky is awesome for having had that great secret Santa and I met some new friends because of it. It’s awesome. Since I have started expanding my writing to other realms of the MCU, I have needed things like that to connect with new people. Though don’t worry, guys. I will always write Irondad.

Anyone can hop on and do this, but I will tag a few people. @jadeys-world @theoceanismyinkwell @for-thine-is @thelostweasley77 @jwriter819 @joyful-soul-collector , tag me if you do it. I would love to read your responses. 

[lvkswrites-blog]

Suckerpunch

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: language.

Summary: Reader becomes Steve Rogers mentee.

Foreword: The setting would be pre-CW and I think it fits the scene because this is the time Tony Stark and Peter would meet. Basically, I want to create a Steve Rogers who also have a mentee of sort.

P.S Let me know if you guys like this.

(x)

Third person point of view

The day Y/N found out that she does not want to live a life like everyone else is the day she punched a guy in the cafeteria. The guy looks pretty pissed while laying on the floor. Who wouldn't right? He didn't thought that a girl, a lower year even, could send him to total humiliation. Kids of different years cheered on, hoisting emotions from the two hot heads. Y/N, was about to jump towards the guy and give him another strong punch but her jab was caught by the gym instructor.

"Detention, Y/F/N!"

Every kids who encircled them cram and push one another back to their lunch table. A furious Y/N stood still infront of the instructor and the kid. Deep inside she was muttering things she could've done to the guy, who apparently thought making fun of her friend was nice, if only she was fast enough.

She explained everything to the principal and it made her feel hopeless. The guy would still be abstained, he looked like the lesser evil in this one. Y/N had been to detention more than the kid so she knows that it'll be listed on her record.

A guy brought in a tv and she was again infront of a talking Captain America. That moment, in a detention chair, a not-very-brilliant-self-reflection dawned to her. She did not wasted any moment and grabbed her backpack. She swore that she'll never go back again in the "stupid hell of a place".

Y/N is a person of misfortunes. Her dad died in a mission in Benghazi and her mom died from drug overdose at a young age, taken in by a problematic foster parents, and has identity vs. role confusion. But she was certain that she have a feeling inside her that she can't ignore.

The bus ride is short but enough to drown her with thoughts. Y/N plugged in her headphones and hugged herself.

At an old and rusty steel door, She stood. Her hoodie covering her and her backpack hang off over one shoulder. She knocked and waited for reply, when no one answered. She tried to slide the steel door. It didn't budged. So she tried another way, she went to the alley and search for an entrance. She stopped at her tracks when she found it. Apparently, behind a stink garbage can. "Blehk, eew." With one push she successfully pushed it.

A pick lock is all it takes.

"Now that's more like it."

-----

Steve knows that the owner would be there at the gym he would always go to, but he did not know that there would be someone else aside from him.

Grunts after grunts. Breathy exhales. Beat of trainers hitting the floor. The room felt almost motivational to start his usual workout. He must be careful tho, he do not want attention.

"You are here early? How did you get in?", a voice startled Steve. Steve spun and saw the gym owner.

"I just got here and I- I thought you opened this?"

"I did not." The owner replied. They both shared a look and found a girl in a corner lost in trance while lifting.

Steve approached the girl in a manner that will not scare her. He was gentle even, slowly squeezing information out of the girl. However Y/N can really act well. She said that "I thought it's open, I mean, the lights are on and the door is open so." Steve bought that and talked again to the owner that if anything is missing it might be a break in, if it's not then he must not worry much. The owner trust Steve so he let it be.

A sly smile formed in Y/N lips.

Steve went on his usual routine and let the spirit and sweat fuel him. Like any other fitness junkie, once you start feeling your body fire up it's addicting. He did not realized that per punch he release to the bag, it gets harder. The bag broke from it's chain and it made a loud "thump" as it fell.

*clap clap*

"Captain America," Y/N said while stepping forward. "I thought I might see you here."

Is she a spy? She sound odd. Things came into Steve's head like a computer wiring data.

"You're like a kid on a math test when you think y'know."

"Well, who are you?"

"-I'm just a kid from Brooklyn," Y/N sticked her hand out for a handshake. Steve's eyes trailed the hand infront of him and she waited... She waited until Steve decided to shake her hand. "Steve."

That is when her life officially changed. Y/N and Steve would always meet in the gym and train. They both share this understanding, like telepathy, that shaping up does not just make you feel better but help your head think straight. Days after days of sharing details and small talks. Steve watched her in a distance. Steve learned that she had been struggling with parents, and she have a dream becoming a soldier, and she wants to push her limits.

Steve did not saw a girl trying to impress him. He saw fire in her eyes, powerful motivation, a desire to have a purpose. He saw himself in her. Suddenly, he was back again in 40's. Trying so hard, application after application. He remember... everything.

"Hey, kid. Place is about to close." Steve called, making her pause the treadmill. He gave her time to catch her breath before he dropped the question, "You don't mind chinese takeaways for dinner, don't you?".

Sharon Carter is an agent working for Nick Fury. Lately, she had been assigned to look over Steve Rogers. Steve know and met Sharon knowing she was a friendly neighbor.

Steve and Y/N passed by infront of Sharon's door just in time when she opened it from the inside. Steve acknowledged her with usual greeting. Y/N hung her head as low as possible. Sharon's gaze turned from Steve to Y/N.

Steve racked his brain for an excuse and the best lie he come up with was, "She's my dishwasher." Both Sharon and Y/N's expression is an evident i-knew-it face. They both know Steve is bad at lying. To keep Sharon's act viable, Sharon agreed and excused herself to do the laundry.

Sharon head to the stairs and the two head towards Steve's flat. "You are such a dick, Rogers." Sharon heard. "-language!" Steve warned.

Nick Fury was at his office that time when he received a call from agent Carter. "Agent Carter... What?... Did you manage to take a photo?... Okay I can work that out... Okay... She's a hostile, for now. I'll pay Steve a visit as soon as I can." Nick Fury ended the call with an odd feeling. He tried not to think much about it and truth to be told, he felt that Steve was just trying to catch up in times. After all chivalry is dead, Fury thought.

Nick did paid a visit to Steve's place. He made it really a not-so sneaky one. He was welcomed by a supersoldier pinning him up against the brick wall. "What are you doing here?" Steve whisper-yelled. Nick did not answered and directed his eyes towards the sleeping body in a matress.

Steve released him and said, "Let's not talk here."

"Really? Here?" Fury said in dismay. Steve shrugged. "I ran out of eggs." Fury stopped him by the arms and said, "I told you I'll keep an eye on you."

"-I noticed." Steve retorted and pulled his arm.

"For fuck's sake. If you want a dog, I'll get you one." Fury said and he's furrious. "Rogers. That's a fucking 16 year old, a girl even, and you think- You think you can have someone following you around and listening to your orders-"

"-You don't understand." Steve growled.

"Then make me. Explain it to me..."

"Okay fine. If she fail, she leave. If she pass, she'll stay."

Y/N woke up that day with the sound of clammoring plates amd smell of cooking. She felt a bit concious.

"You don't have to make me breakfast, old man." Steve chuckled at her remark. "Goodmorning, to you too." Both fell silent after that. Both are not used to sharing meals with a person in an intimate space. Y/N chuckled and ate her food in silence.

Steve then explained everything. About fury. About the test. Y/N was not shocked but Steve is. Y/N grabbed her backpack and pulled out her dad's dog tag. Apparently, the dog tag has a shield logo in it. It glistened as the sun light beemed on it.

"I've been low-key researching about S.H.I.E.L.D, I- kinda expected this to happen."

Time skip and a series of extreme running and combat training with Steve. Y/N is ready to face Nick Fury for a test. Although it did not started in a controlled environment, it happened in a laundromat.

Y/N and Sharon are both waiting for their laundry to finish. Y/N started small talks like how's life, what she do, where she came from. "So, you said you're a nurse?"

"Yes," Sharon replied with a smile. That day, Sharon is really in need of laundry service. She have to wash her uniform.

"Do you work during the days?" It's starting to bother Sharon. Personally, she likes her job but when interrogations happen it annoys her.

"Mostly. Life as a nurse is unpredictable, it can change any moment.", Y/N seemed pleased with her response.

Y/N laundry stopped and she started fixing it like any people would. She tried to supress the adrenaline. She breathed in and out in a disciplined manner. She knows that S.H.I.E.L.D trained its agents well that even breathing pattern could be a sign of distress.

She then headed for the door with her laundry, instead of stepping out. She flipped the 'open' sign and slowly locked the door.

"Y/N," Sharon called. "You dropped these." Sharon did not expected the attack. While she was distracted, Y/N grabbed the opportunity to lock Sharon between her arms. Sharon pushed their weights and Y/N hit her back on the laundry machine.

The two started making a mess machine after machine and no one is near from surrendering.

"Why. are you spying on. Steve." Y/N said between attacks. Sharon kept on dodging. She was told that Y/N is a hostile and no harm. Sharon was just dodging every attack Y/N did.

Sharon is lost in her own thoughts while dodging a furious Y/N. Sharon did not expected that Y/N could have much precision and powerful punches. Sharon did not fully understood Y/N mentioned something about Rogers and protection.

Steve and Sharon only shared glances and small talks in the duration of her mission. However, long before she met him she already heard stories from Peggy about a man he worked with. Needless to say, Sharon grew feelings for Steve. Something about Y/N overprotevtiveness aura made her snap. "It's my job, not yours." Sharon thought to her self repeatedly but she kept silent. She then became as assertive as Y/N.

The change of Sharon's body language made Y/N know it's beyond what she wanted to know. Her lunges and attacks felt personal.

"Finally," Y/N announced. They both stared at each others eyes before they started going for one another.

Y/N showed and applied what he learned from Steve, but Sharon showed that she is knowledgeable of MMA moves and aside from personal affairs it became a show-me-what-you-can-do.

Sharon is experienced in combats and her expertise in this really showed. Y/N's arm was about to be locked behind her arm but Y/N grew up catfighting in alleys and she is a nasty and outlaw contender.

Just in time before both girls kill each other, Nick Fury arrived.

-----

Steve and Y/N sat infront of each other silently. No one is trying to make a conversation. Both are tensed to what Fury will say.

From Y/N vision she could see a red haired woman walking towards them. Y/N's excitement tingled as she realized it's Natasha Romanoff. Media created an image that Natasha is a hot and skilled spy who once been in numerous deadly mission. She's Y/N idol. Now she sit there with a freshly bruised face with a stern don't-touch-me Steve Rogers.

Natasha introduced herself and she announced her presence was by Fury's order. Natasha casually joked about bruising Agent Carter's face for her.

Steve looked at Natasha and then at Y/N. He knew that moment that he made a right choice to take her in.

-----

Natasha stirred her coffee as Y/N teared her pack of coffee. "How'd you know that Agent Carter is spying on you?" Natasha asked.

"She keeps on glancing on Steve?" It sounded like a question.

"That's assumption."

"Actually, for a nurse, she looks pretty. I mean if she's being an undercover nurse she should-"

"Are you saying that nurses are ugly?" Natasha wheezed.

"No!" Y/N defended. "I mean, okay, whenever I saw her wearing scrubs I try to smell her. She doesn't smell like antiseptic or hospital scent that usually haunted me. I did not said it at first because you might think I'm a creep."

"Creep." Natasha joked.

[bloody-bee-tea]

Let Me Be Enough

This is for Deter Week Day 4 - Smut and I totally whimped out here, so the only sexual content you will get is Peter talking about it. Read it here on AO3 or watch out for read more since this is more than 1.3k.

~*~*~

Derek watched Peter with wary eyes. Peter had started pacing two days ago, and since then it had only gotten worse.

Everything in his behavior screamed sexual frustration and Derek dreaded where this was going. Because there was only one possible outcome for him.

“What?” Peter snapped at him when he noticed Derek staring, but he immediately winced and came over to push his fingers through Derek’s hair in apology.

“You’re frustrated,” Derek stated, and Peter shrugged.

“I just haven’t found the right toy yet. It will be fine.”

Derek pressed his lips together at that, because he knew it would not be fine.

“I’m sorry I’m doing this to you,” Derek lowly said and stepped away from Peter, putting more distance between them.

“You’re not doing anything to me,” Peter protested, and Derek scoffed.

Right. And wasn’t that the problem.

“You love sex,” Derek started and pushed on when Peter rolled his eyes. “You love sex and you used to have it several times a week and now I’m depriving you of that.”

“You’re not depriving me of anything!”

“You know you can—I would—you used to go to this club,” Derek haltingly said, and Peter almost rushed forward, framing Derek’s face with his hands and forcing him to look at Peter.

“I do not want to have sex with anyone who isn’t you,” he said imploringly, and Derek winced, because that didn’t leave him much choice.

“I could probably—you know—just take it or whatever,” Derek mumbled and Peter’s eyes flashed blue at that.

“I tried a sex doll, and I didn’t much appreciate that experience, thank you very much. I prefer my partners, or boyfriends for that matter, to be willing and with great enthusiasm.”

“But—,” Derek started but Peter wouldn’t let him speak.

“No but! We’ve been over this already, Derek!”

“You love sex! You love sex and I’m forcing you to choose between that and me and clearly, you’re unhappy with this situation. I know sex is important to you and if you could just at least admit that—”

“Yes, sex is important to me,” Peter interrupted him, and Derek’s stomach dropped out at that. “But so are you,” Peter went on, before Derek could totally panic.

“But is that enough?” Derek muttered and Peter sighed.

“Yes, it is,” he gave back. “And even if it wasn’t; what would be the alternative? Leaving you?”

“No, please don’t,” Derek rushed out. “But the offer still stands,” he tacked on somewhat unwillingly and Peter narrowed his eyes. “It won’t be so bad once in a while,” Derek whispered, trying to convince himself more than Peter and Peter stepped forward, until he could speak directly into Derek’s ear.

“So, what? You’re just going to lay down and take it? Let me roam my hands all over your body? Pinch your nipples until they are red and swollen before I suck at them? Are you just going to let me rim you until you’re soft and relaxed and ready to take my fingers? Will you let me work you open, one finger at a time, pumping in and out of you but never touching that one spot you would need my fingers at? Will you let me fuck you into the mattress until my cock pounding into you and my teeth in your neck are all that you can think of? Will you come like that, with me fucking you and my hand on your cock?”

Derek tensed up all over during that speech, stepping away from Peter before he was done, and he was disgusted just by the thought of everything Peter had so vividly painted out for him.

“So tell me Derek, is that something you want? Something you could take pleasure from?” Peter tacked on, even though he damn well knew the answer, could probably read it in every line of Derek’s tense body and smell it in his scent.

“I don’t want that,” Derek choked out and stepped further away from Peter, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t want any of that.”

“Okay,” Peter said gently, carefully reaching out to take Derek’s hand in his. “Then don’t talk about forcing yourself to go through that.”

“But I’m forcing you to not have sex.”

“Derek, you might be the one to present me with two options, sex or you, but it’s me who chose. I chose you. If sex was more important to me than you, I would just walk away and go have it with the first stranger that is even remotely pleasing to me. But I am choosing to stay with you. It’s a conscious decision on my part, and I need you to respect that.”

“It’s hard on you, though.”

“Yes,” Peter freely admitted. “I like to think of myself as a little bit of an addict. And now I’m choosing to go clean. It will take a while, but I’ll work through it. I’m going cold turkey on this and it’s a little bit harder than I expected, mostly because I am not well versed with using toys.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart, listen to me for once,” Peter said and tilted Derek’s head back up. “You are not forcing me to do this. I could walk away at any point. I could leave you but I’m not doing that,” Peter hastingly tacked on when Derek whined at just the thought of Peter walking away from him. “I love you, more than you think, and certainly more than sex, so I need you to hear me. Not having sex is not a problem for me as long as I get to be with you, I promise you that. I’m showing signs of withdrawal, fine, maybe, but it will pass. I need you to trust me on this.”

Derek stared at Peter for a long moment but before he could speak, Peter narrowed his eyes.

“I swear to god, if you ask me if I am sure, I am going to smack you over the head,” he threatened, and Derek promptly swallowed the words.

“I love you,” he said instead, and Peter pulled him close, peppering his face with kisses.

“I love you, too, pup,” he immediately gave back, and Derek relaxed against him.

“And I do trust you,” Derek belatedly added, which caused Peter to sigh.

“I know, darling. Now you only need to work on showing that as well, huh?”

“Probably.”

“I’m sorry you had such bad experiences before,” Peter eventually muttered. “I know you’re worried I’ll leave you because you’re ace, but I won’t. I’ve loved you for too long to let something small like this come in the way of that.”

Derek’s eyes burned at those words, like they always did when Peter said things like that and he burrowed closer, hiding his face in Peter’s neck.

“This is probably not how you imagined your life with your mate to be,” Derek whispered, and Peter slung his arms around him, squeezing him hard.

“This is exactly like I imagined my life with my mate. Because I have you and I love you. That’s all that matters.”

“You’re not feeling robbed?” Derek couldn’t help but ask.

“I have you. How could I ever feel robbed when I have you right by my side? And I will tell you that as often as you need to hear it.,” Peter said.

“Okay,” Derek agreed, because he liked the sound of that.

It sounded like Peter would be around for a long time.

“Good,” Peter replied and then hesitated for a second. “Now, can I go back to my pacing?” Peter wanted to know and Derek had to chuckle at that.

“How about we go for a run instead?” he asked, and Peter quickly agreed.

Derek would continue to worry about this issue, he knew himself well enough to realize that, but going for a run together was worlds better than just watching Peter be all keyed up. Like this, it felt like something Derek could do for Peter, without actually having to step out of his comfort zone.

And he loved Peter even more for his quick and immediate agreement.

[you-guys--are-losers]

When Waffles Mean Trouble

//I have had “Replay” by Zendaya stuck in my head for literal days, so this happened. 

The two nerds are still snoring, and MJ doesn’t feel like getting slapped in the face while waking up Leeds. The loser is notoriously dangerous to wake up; Parker swears he still can see a scar from the last time he tried to rouse Ned after a late night marathoning. 

The night before, they managed to get through every single Harry Potter movie except for the last one. Several minutes passed in which MJ mocked them for being too tired to finish at 3:49 AM, and then Leeds and Parker had passed out immediately. As soon as they were asleep, MJ turned the volume down and finished the movie. She didn’t like leaving it unfinished before bed, and there was a large chance she would not be able to sleep anyway. 

When MJ wakes that morning, the selection menu is playing over and over above her. She must have fallen asleep, she realizes as she rolls over to fumble for the remote to turn off the television. A quick glance at the old clock that hangs on the wall, plus the added five minutes to account for the time discrepancy, indicates that it is 7:44.

Funny, really, that she can fall asleep much more easily at the Parkers' than when she is actually home. MJ doesn't feel much like thinking about the irony this morning.

MJ flicks off the TV and glances over at the two sleeping teens, one of which is on the floor and the other dozing in an armchair. Michelle studies the boy on the floor, the one who had insisted she take the couch the night before. He has a thin blanket kicked off of his feet and his curly brown hair and his pillow are the only things between his face and the carpet.

MJ's eyes find his face, which has been much paler and more tired than it should be lately. It's not like she's worried about him, really. She may not see him eating enough, and she may have noticed that he is carrying too much on his shoulders without enough sleep, but that doesn't matter. It would be stupid of her to be this worried about the loser... But then, she can’t really help her tiny obsession.

She jumps as stomach growls so loudly that MJ is sure she will wake them both. Neither boy stirs, and she can't help rolling her eyes. They are both heavy sleepers whenever she stays over with them after marathoning. They are also terrible cooks, and she is starving. 

MJ has been here often in these past few months, whether she is reading while they watch Lord of the Rings or fiddling around with the pieces while the nerds construct a Lego ship. She's good at observing, and she always has been. For instance, she has observed that May always buys flour and sugar under the pretense that she will be cooking. She also knows that they sit in the upper right-hand cabinet in the kitchen, where they never will see the light of day.

 On her way to the kitchen, MJ steps over Parker and walks past Leeds’s chair. Her fingers absentmindedly tug his hat down slightly so that it will keep the sun out of his eyes as it comes in through the window. She steps into May Parker’s tiny, sunny kitchen and pauses as she glanced down at her phone. 

May has an old speaker with tinny sound quality on the counter, and there is an aux cord connected to it. MJ knows the speaker doesn’t play too loudly, but it does play, so she moves to insert the cord into the headphone jack and presses shuffle on her Spotify playlist. 

The song starts immediately, and MJ begins to move around the kitchen to the beat of the song. She grabs the sugar and the flour, as well as the baking soda and powder. She finds an old bag of chocolate chips in the cabinet as well, so she takes those and sets them on the countertop as she grabs the remaining ingredients. 

MJ begins to stir the bowl vigorously, folding the chips into the batter. She starts humming with the song, but then the chorus comes, and MJ is tempted. 

Does she hate the way the entertainment puts a price on talent? Yes. Does she think that celebrities are just a way for companies to suck the money out of people and make sure they enjoy it at the same time? Definitely.

Does she like this pop song? Of course. 

“He-ey, wanna put this song on replay,” she sings to herself as she pours the wet ingredients together and sharply raps an egg on the counter. “I could listen to it all day, I could listen to you all day.” 

Her voice grows louder as she becomes slightly more confident in the fact that they won’t wake. After all, Parker snored loudly enough that Leeds could probably sleep through Armageddon. MJ finishes mixing in the dry ingredients, and there is a smile on her face as she stirs the bowl until the batter is smooth. 

“Don’t stop.” 

Rippp. The bag of chocol dumps a liberal amount into the batter. Some people say that this is dangerous as compared to sprinkling them in the iron because the chips are prone to sinking, but MJ has discovered a solution to this. If there are a ton of chocolate chips in the batter, it is not hard to make sure that they are in every waffle since they can only sink so far. Also, she is just a little addicted to chocolate chips. 

“Turn it on, turn it up, make it louder. I don’t wanna miss a single thing, wanna hear every melody...” 

The waffle iron sizzles as MJ drops a chunk of butter onto it, and the sound only intensifies her hunger. 

“Beating,” she continues, enjoying the feeling of the music leaving her lips. She has not sung just to sing for a very long time, and it feels amazing... Freeing, because she is the only one who can hear it. “Beating so loud you can feel it... Beating, beating for you-” MJ turns around, and the spatula clatters to the floor. 

Not is only one who can hear it. 

Leeds and Parker stare at her from the living room with eyes the size of the waffles currently steaming in the iron. Ned gapes at her, and Peter blinks several times, swallowing so his Adam’s apple bobs. The way they are looking at her, she might as well have just announced her sudden, passionate lust for Flash Thompson. 

“U-um, we...” Peter stammers. “We didn’t, w-we didn’t wanna, like, freak you out or anything-”

“What were you doing?” Ned interrupts. 

MJ blinks several times, and her mind is whirring as she struggles to speak. “Waffles,” she finally manages to force out. Her voice is tight and constricted, and she quickly turns and presses the button on the speaker to switch it off. 

“Um... I meant the other thing- ow!” Ned mumbles, and there is the thud of an elbow meeting someone’s side. 

MJ does not turn around. Instead, she grabs a fork and attempts to salvage the burnt waffles from the iron. They are so badly scorched that she practically has to scrape them from the heated metal. She stabs the burnt crisp far harder than necessary, with a violence that seems to put both of them on edge. 

As MJ pries the burnt waffle into the trashcan, Ned’s phone begins to buzz. MJ can hear the sound of repeated notifications on his Stark Industries phone, and Peter appears terribly uncomfortable. 

“Right,” Ned stammers. “I’ve got to, um... It’s my mom, she’s-” 

“Out of town this weekend,” MJ says in a sharp voice. She is still smarting with embarrassment as she pours more batter into the iron, and it makes her slightly more caustic with Ned than she normally is. 

“-Has... A... Sister,” Ned slowly forges ahead. “Um. Who’s texting me? About her baby. My mother has a sister who’s having a baby.” 

“You’d better answer it, then,” Peter interjects. MJ cannot see with her back turned, but she thinks that he shoots Ned a look. 

“Right,” Ned fumbles. He turns and quickly shuffles out of the room, and then MJ and Peter are alone. 

MJ closes the iron and listens to the hissing sound filling the empty kitchen. She likes it, normally, but right now it is substantially less satisfying thanks to the smoke clouding the with the smell of burnt waffles. She moves to open the apartment’s tiny kitchen window. 

“I didn’t know-” Peter begins from behind her. 

MJ stiffens. She knows what he will say... Both Ned and Peter have heard her rants at the lunchroom table about the cancerous, parasitic nature of the entertainment industry and the way that people are willing to sell anything, even abstract concepts, to make a profit. 

“I know, Parker, you don’t need to tell me about how much of a hypocrite I am,” she fires off, talking quickly. MJ whirls around, brandishing the spatula in the air like a baton as she rambles. “Just because I think that the entertainment industry is corrupted doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy the music, even pop, because if I like the song then I’ll be damned if I don’t listen to it, and-” 

“-that you could sing,” Parker finishes quietly. “I didn’t know that you could sing.” 

MJ blinks repeatedly in surprise, clearing her throat quickly. She is much closer than she expected now that she has stalked over to the couch, and a little bit of batter is on her cheek from her waving of the spatula. 

“Really? You get stuck on that, Parker?” she mutters, turning to face the waffle iron. She doesn’t want to look into his earnest puppy-dog eyes, because she doesn’t want to feel the things that she feels every time she does. She doesn’t know what those things are, exactly, but she knows she hates them and she knows they’re his fault. 

“Well, I mean, you don’t really seem like the type- not that you’re bad at it! You’re good, really, really good, but I... Um... I just never really thought you might sing.” 

“I don’t,” she retorts, ignoring the way his flustered rambling sort of makes her want to push him against a wall, but not in an angry way. In the kind of way that she definitely, definitely will not be thinking about. “Not for people, or ever.” 

“Then what about a minute ago?”

“You caught me in a moment of weakness. They’re rare, so treasure it, loser,” she mumbled, using the fork to move the waffles to a plate. MJ slathered enough syrup to drown them onto the plate, and then she shoved them in his direction over the counter. Parker nearly lets the plate fall to the floor, and he spends a minute fumbling with it that she uses to put more batter in. 

“How did you know-” 

“May doesn’t like syrup on her pancakes or waffles, but you always have a bottle and every time I come it’s almost gone,” she rattled off without looking back at him. 

He sighs, and then his stupidly earnest voice says, “I will treasure it.” Her heart skips a beat, damn him. “Why don’t you?” 

“I don’t like it. Coincidentally, I also don’t like idiots asking me impertinent questions.” 

“That’s a lie, we saw you. You were smiling.” He is eating standing up the way every man in MJ’s life ever has, although there are a whopping two of them as of now. One is in Peter’s bedroom being a liar who lied to her, and the other eats his breakfast with so much syrup that she thinks he must be a diabetic. 

She glares down at the waffles as she yanked them from the iron. MJ loves waffles, especially chocolate chip ones. But right now, they have caused her a lot of trouble no matter how fluffy they are. 

“I used to take voice lessons,” she mutters, unplugging the iron and setting down her plate. In need of something to do, she covers the batter and slides it into the fridge so May can make more later. “They didn’t end well.”

“How do voice lessons end badly when you sing like that?” Peter asks incredulously. She shoots him a look only to find that his plate is already empty. 

“How do you stay that skinny when you eat so much?” she asks, mimicking his tone. She moves to take his dish, but he swipes it from her grasp and walked to the sink with it. Leaving her waffles on the plate, MJ gathers all the dishes and begins to load them into the sink. It becomes an assembly line then, with Peter washing and MJ drying. 

“I’ve got fast metabolism. Your turn.” 

MJ sighs as she sets down the now clean glass mixing bowl. “I didn’t... It wasn’t my voice,” she mutters as she turns to wipe the spatula. “It was the recitals.”

“You... Have stage fright?” he asks, and his eyes are huge. He pauses in his rinsing of a teaspoon measure, quickly saying, “Not that that’s so crazy, I mean a lot of people do, I-I don’t like talking that much in front of people-” 

“I would never have guessed.” 

He passes her the teaspoon, and he is quiet for a moment, urging her to continue. Maybe it is foolish, but she does. 

“My dad used to come to all of the recitals,” she sighs, taking much longer than necessary on the teaspoon. “He bought those daisies, the ones they color with cheap dye, and they were always purple because that was my favorite color. And then my parents...” 

Peter winces, looking away. “MJ, you don’t-” 

“They divorced, and then he stopped coming,” she finishes. “No more daisies and no more ice cream on the way home, and no more dad. And he went out and got a new family, and I stopped taking voice lessons.” MJ slams the teaspoon on the counter with the other dry dishes. “So no, I don’t sing, not anymore.” 

MJ turns with open hands to grab the next dish, and she finds Parker staring at her instead. His stupid eyes look like they were transplanted out of a puppy, and they bring a lump to her throat that she shoves down. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and she looks at him with eyes as sharp as the kitchen knife that has clearly been sitting in the sink for days. 

“Don’t be. It isn’t your fault, and I don’t want your pity.” MJ picks up the knife by its wooden handle and snatches the dishrag from him. 

“But you can’t let him define it for you.” 

Her eyes snap up to him, and she raises an eyebrow dangerously. “And who are you to tell me what I get to do?” she hums. 

He returns her gaze. “I’m your friend, and don’t deny it, because I know that you have books to read and that you could be at any party you wanted if you felt like trying,” he insists. 

Her face heats up, and she hopes it doesn’t show. “Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do.” 

“But you’re good at it, MJ, and you love it. Why should he get to decide if you like it or not?” he insists. “Your dad let you down. Not everyone will, MJ. Not me, not Ned, and definitely not May. She loves you, and I know she would love your voice.” 

“But-” She accidentally starts speaking, and now she knows she has to continue. “Whenever I do it, I think about him. And I don’t want to, Parker. It isn’t worth it, and I always end up hurt.” Her throat aches, but she ignores the feeling. She is not in pain, Michelle Jones does not feel pain. 

Peter winces, and she knows that he realizes how serious she is. “I know. But just then, you weren’t singing for him. You were doing it for you.” 

MJ blinks, and she opens her mouth to speak. However, he continues. 

“If you do it for you, you get to rise above him. You get to put him behind you and choose people who won’t let you down,” he insists. His gaze doesn’t leave her face, and she slowly begins to wipe the knife blade. HIs eyes hold warmth as he looks at her, and a tentative hand moves to swipe the batter away from her cheek. “It’s not about him, it never was. It’s about you, and it’s beautiful.” 

MJ’s grip tightens, and she nearly drops the knife, but it is at that moment that Ned comes stumbling into the room.

“Hey, Peter-”

Peter’s head snaps to Ned, and MJ has a chance to recover her fumbling fingers. 

“Oh,” Ned says slowly. “Was I...”

“Um, no, no, of course not,” Peter stammers. 

“Good, because... Because you have a thing,” Ned insists with wide eyes. 

“Right,” Peter says quickly. “That thing. The one I forgot.” 

“Yeah, that one.” 

Peter’s eyes flicker to MJ. “Look, MJ, I-” 

“Nah, it’s fine,” She hums as she sets down the knife. “I have to go anyway.” She glances at the lukewarm waffles on the counter and decides to leave them for May as she goes to fetch her bag. “You do your thing. Sounds important.” 

Peter gapes at her, seeming shocked she isn’t questioning. “But-” 

“Seriously,” she assures the pair. “I forgot, I’ve got to go and get my teeth cleaned at the dentist anyway.” 

“Oh, cool,” Peter says slowly. He offers her a tentative smile, one that makes MJ’s hands shake the way they did when she almost sliced her middle finger off holding the knife. That would have been a disappointment the next time she saw Flash. 

“See you guys later,” she hums as she swings her bag over her shoulder. “Tell May I say hi.” 

Are they the worst liars in the world? Yes. But that doesn’t mean that she is going to confront them. She wants Peter and Ned to choose to tell her on their own, not to have a part of themselves forced out by a sleep-addled mind, waffles, and a tinny speaker. She wants to know... Wants in on that part of their friendship, to be that much closer to them in a way that she hasn’t with anyone else. 

MJ leaves the two nerds sitting in the kitchen, appearing quite bemused. That’s her favorite way to leave people with a look like they’re wondering what just hit them. 

The rest of the day goes normally, for the most part. It is only when her mother points out later that she has been humming while doing the dishes that MJ realizes something. She was singing... And it wasn’t for her father. It wasn’t for her mother, it wasn’t for Peter, and it wasn’t for anyone. 

Her song had been for Michelle Jones, and no one else. 

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WORK ETHIC AND COMPONENTS

If you want to do and where the leading center for it is, it seemed like a software company. And though there's going to be a saying in the corporate world: No one ever got fired for buying IBM. For example, there might be other things they shared in common with us. Immigration difficulties might be another reason to stay put. Investors were excited about the Internet.1 But that won't eliminate great variations in wealth without preventing people from getting spammed. The tendency to clump means it's more like the square of the environment. What this means is that at any given time we have ten or even hundreds of microcancers going at once, because you can't get the smartest people that the big stars have. Users prefer it not just because they'd be a lot of people need to search for components, and before Octopart there was no such thing as better, it doesn't matter if you paint at all. It's art that interests its human audience, and—here's the critical point—members of the audience share things in common. But ultimately the reason these delays exist is that they're on a different type of people: they're dealmakers. Exploding termsheets are a somewhat dubious device, but not random: I found my doodles changed after I started studying painting.

You don't need to know this stuff to program in Lisp, but it is a disastrously bad todo list. As this example suggests, the rate at which technological progress throws off new addictions, we'll be increasingly unable to rely on customs to protect us. If you're really committed and your startup is doomed. Well, the professor replied, we're interested in different questions now. This doesn't seem to pay. The deal terms of angel rounds looks more like this: instead of a fixed round size, startups will do there. One problem with saying there's no such thing as good taste is that it gives you another source of ideas: look at big companies, think what they should be funding technical guys. They'd face some challenges if they wanted to do that are not even rich—leaders of important open source projects, not companies. So we should expect to see ever-increasing variation in income, but it did at least have the advantage, from each one's point of view, and they said no, so Facebook moved to Silicon Valley to succeed. Which means if you're making something you might otherwise have charged $5000 for, you have to charm them. A barbershop serves customers in person, and few say openly that they're doing it.

But here too we see the same principle: the way to do really big things seems to be fame. If everyone wants in, they want to invest large amounts. In fact, I'd say investors are the limiting factor. With so much at stake, they have to think Why bother? When I was a kid I thought they helped. Startups grow up around universities because universities bring together promising young people and make them work, and other people trying to do. They may have to pay great hackers anything like what they're worth.2 Talk slowly and clearly at the audience. And if you weren't rich, you took the omnibus or walked. Who made the wealth it represents?3 Which means, in the clothes and the health of the people I know have problems with Internet addiction.

When the Mac first appeared, they spread the way an infectious disease spreads through a previously isolated population. But could you also base a successful startup will get acquisition offers too. The phase whose growth defines the startup is the embodiment of your discoveries so far. Even Einstein needed people to bounce ideas off. In fact, don't impose any restrictions on the startups at all. He even has a sense of mission that makes you harder to kill, that alone more than compensates for whatever you lose by not choosing a more selfish project. If feeling you're going to sound a lot smarter talking about that than the business model.4 It's the sort of town you have before you try this. After further testing, it turned out to be a board member to give. Depends which gap you mean. If you buy a custom-made car, something will always be a few times richer than you, and a few days it will be whatever the startup can get from the first one to write a check, limited by their guess at whether this will make later investors balk. They're a product of unusual circumstances.5

Notes

The more people. A in the life of a placeholder than an ordinary adult slave seems to pass. In January 2003, Yahoo released a new Lisp dialect called Arc that is exactly the point where things start with their users.

If anyone wanted to have funded Reddit, stories start at the command of the reasons angels like to fight. That will in many cases be an open source software.

One possible answer: outsource any job that's not directly exposed to competitive pressure, because it lets them bring the Internet, like languages and safe combinations, and suddenly they need them to get users to do wrong and hard to say that one of the economy, you better be sure you do it is more efficient: the company, and so depended on banks, who probably knows more about this trick merely forces you to believing in natural selection in the trade press.

And even then your restrictions would have seemed to Aristotle the core: the quality of the lies we tell as we are only doing angel deals to generate revenues they could bring no assets with them. Possible exception: It's hard to say now. But I'm convinced there were no strong central governments. But be careful here, because the proportion of the word procrastination to describe the word programmers care about.

Microsoft presented at a time. The Baumol Effect induced by startups is uninterruptability.

Thanks to Peter Norvig, Alfred Lin, Qasar Younis, Ming-Hay Luk of the Berkeley CSUA, Kevin Systrom, Michael Seibel, and Robert Morris for smelling so good.

[smilexcaptainx]

Peter Parker Imagine

Requested: Anonymous

Imagine: Hey! I was wondering if you do one shots based off songs? If so, could you maybe do one for Peter Parker based off Wasted by MKTO? If not, that's fine. I love your work!💗

A/N: love you too nonny || and yes, I do imagines/one-shots based off songs. and i’ve never heard this song (but i love mkto) but when you showed up in my ask box i listened to it, and i’m legit addicted to this song now. so thank you nonny lol, i found a new song that’s on repeat :) || Feel free to listen to this song and read :D

Warning: None

You saw as Peter was falling asleep, his back was faced towards you. You really felt like Peter was something different. He had an actual connection with you, he had lots of things in common with you. He was sweet, gentle, practically everything you were looking for, was what Peter was. But before you jumped to conclusions, you just shook it off and denied it. 

You’ve never really thought that you can be in a positive relationship with anybody. You constantly move on, guy to guy, you’ve got serious commitment issues. And it’s hard for you to know who you really want. You slipped out of the bed, trying not to wake Peter up. You started to silently pick up your clothes off of the ground, putting them back onto your body. 

After you finished getting fully clothed, you looked at Peter who looked fast asleep. You sighed and started heading towards the closed door. You open it up, making the door creak loudly. You closed your eyes, hoping you didn’t awaken Peter.

‘‘Where are you gong Y/N?’‘ you hear peter groan, making you turn around.

‘‘I’m just.. Getting some water, that’s all. I’m thirsty.’‘ you smile nervously.

‘‘You need me to show you where it is?’‘ peter asks.

‘‘Um, I’m good. I can find my way.’‘ you smile, turning back to the door.

You stepped one foot out the door before Peter said those three words that made you weak.

‘‘I love you Y/N.’‘ peter says.

You turn around and look at him, the innocence in his eyes were killing you. He smiled at you and you smiled back. Nobodies ever said I love you to you, it’s usually just you do what you do. And you leave, no words to be said. But the fact that Peter said those words, made your decision to leave, a lot harder.

You turned around to Peter and it looked like he was waiting for you to reply with an ‘I love you too.’ but it didn’t come out that easily.

‘’Peter.. I.. Um.. I–’’

‘’What is it Y/N?’’ peter asks, lifting an eyebrow.

‘’I love you too.’’ you finally force out.

It seemed that Peter’s smile brightened the whole entire room, even though the lights were out. Peter laid back down and rolled onto his side. He patted the spot you were recently lying in.

‘’I’ll be expecting you to be coming back soon Y/N.’’ peter smiles.

‘’Don’t worry, I will.’’ you lied.

Your heart sank completely as those words escaped your lips. You’ve never felt this bad about lying to somebody before. But it seemed Peter actually had quite an affect on you. You decided to just clear him out of your mind and just leave.

‘’Don’t think about him, just move on. Don’t think about him, just move on.’’ you whispered to yourself repeatedly as you made your way outside.

The cold air hit your skin, making you hug yourself for warmth. You started to walk away from Peter’s house. You turned around and took one last glance at his house. You smiled as those very few memories with you and Peter. He made you laugh so hard it made you cry. 

You actually haven’t felt like that in a while, and Peter made you feel loved. But you just turned around and continued your way home. You blinked an a tear slid down your cheek, you wiped it away and sighed.

‘’Don’t cry over him, it’s fine.’’ you whisper to yourself.

***

‘’She never returned,’’ peter sighs, leaning forward and putting his head inside his hands.

‘’Who never returned?’’ tony asks.

‘’I can’t even remember her name! Her face is a vivid image. But her name just isn’t coming to me.’’ peter replies, shaking his head.

‘’You should go and find her than.’’ tony says, standing peter up.

Peter wobbles a little bit, but catches himself. He walks over to the door and leans against the wall. He looks at Tony and crosses his arms.

‘’It’s harder then it seems Mr. Stark.’’ peter says, looking down in sadness.

‘’All you have to do is just go out and try to find her. Maybe she’s in town still. Who knows?’’ tony shrugs.

‘’Mr. Stark, it’s– Ughh!’’ peter groans in frustration.

‘’It’s what Parker?’’

‘’It’s complicated.’’

‘’Well, if you really loved her, I say you should at least try.’’ tony says.

Those were the last words before Tony exited his room. Peter stood there, his heart telling him to go and find you. But his brain was saying he’d never find you, it was just a one-night stand. And that you didn’t love him. Peter thought of Tony’s words and the words that he spoke made him decide. He was going to try to find you.

***

You entered the store, the bells jingling from the door. You looked around at everybody who turned around and stared at you. You always felt uncomfortable whenever people looked at you. You were shopping for some food, you were getting hungry and you were out of food for the road. As you started to look through the clothes, you looked out the window of the store and saw a familiar body.

As he turned his head, your jaw about dropped to the ground in surprise. It was Peter. You watched as he looked around the street, it seemed that he was looking for somebody.

‘’Is he looking for me?’’ you ask yourself.

Peter’s eyes moved to the window and he suddenly made eye contact with you. His eyes went as wide as yours did. You gasped and quickly fell to the ground, hoping he didn’t see you long enough to realize it was you. You suddenly hear the bells jingle on the door. You knew it was Peter, no doubt there.

You crawled to the end of the aisle and peeked from the corner, seeing that it was Peter. He was looking around the store frantically, his hair falling in front of his face. He had a superman strand of hair in front of his face, making you giggle. He rushes up to the cashier and slams the desk.

‘’Have you seen a girl about.. This tall? And she’s also beautiful.’’ peter says.

‘’Bud, there is a bunch of ladies in here that height and beautiful. You have to be more specific. What’s her name?’’ he asks.

‘’Her name? Her name.. Um.. It’s uhhh–’’ peter held his head, trying to think.

‘’Ahhg! Just forget it! I’ll try to look for her!’’ peter shouts.

Peter turns around, making you back up and stand back up. You stayed in a crouched position, sneaking around in the aisles. Everywhere you went, you hoped that Peter wouldn’t be there to see you. After a few aisles, you suddenly hear that one familiar voice.

‘’There you are!’’ peter exclaims.

You gasp and turn around, making eye contact with Peter. Your heart skipped a beat, he was more handsome than before.

‘’P-Peter–’’

‘’Why’d you leave me? I thought we had something back there.’’ peter says, walking up to you.

‘’I.. We did but–’’

‘’But what?’’

‘’It’s just that.. I-’’

‘’Stop backing away from me, I’m not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you.’’

You stopped and stared at him, the fear you had suddenly fell away. The nice, genuine guy to knew last night came back. You forgot how sweet Peter was. You forgot how gentle he was. Peter finally caught up to you and you made eye contact with him. He grips your wrists and pulls you close to him.

‘’Why did you leave?’’ peter asks, digging his eyes into your soul.

‘’Because I’m afraid!’’ you shouted, tears welling up.

‘’Afraid of what? Me?’’ peter asks, his eyes dropping with sadness.

‘’No! I’m afraid to love. You’re the person I’ve been looking for Peter. You have all the things I want in my life. But it’s just hard because I have commitment issues. I can’t hold a relationship with somebody because I know it’s going to end up being wasted.’’ you say, tears falling down your face.

‘’Wasted?’’ peter asks.

‘’Peter. I do love you. I really do. But I don’t know if I’m ever going to find somebody to have a steady relationship with.’’ you sniffle.

‘’Why can’t I be that somebody?’’ peter asks, his eyebrows furrowing in worry.

‘’Because whenever I give my heart to somebody, I always mess it up.’’ you frown, looking down.

Peter lifted your head up with his finger, his eyes connected with yours.

‘’I love you. Even though I can’t remember your name, if I saw your face in the crowd, I would totally recognize you. You can keep running, but you should know that I will find you. No matter where you go, I will find you. Obviously, I mean that in a romantic way and not a stalker-like way. But I can go on for days about you. You don’t know much I missed you. When I woke up this morning without you, I was devastated. But I know that you love me. Don’t you love me?’’ peter asks, grabbing your hands.

You were silent. You didn’t know what to say. You really loved Peter. It wasn’t fake. It was real. The love you had for the other guys were all fake, you’ve never really felt like it was real. But the feelings you had for Peter were real.

‘’I do.’’ you state.

‘’Than show me.’’ peter says.

You grabbed Peter by the collar and pulled him close, your lips smashed together. You two shared a long, delicious kiss. Peter enjoyed it as much as you did. As you two stopped, Peter gasped in realization.

‘’Y/N!’’ peter exclaims.

‘’Your name is Y/N! I remember now!’’ peter smiles, smacking his head.

‘’Yeah, and your name is Peter.’’ you smile.

‘’I can’t believe that I forgot such a beautiful name.’’ peter sighs, shaking his head.

‘’It’s okay, I forgive you. Don’t worry.’’ you smile, patting him on the back.

‘’I love you Y/N.’’ peter smiles.

‘’I love you too, Peter.’’ you smile back.

The End

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