#peter startled him at the lab and he spilled his coffee

[lykantrooppi]

he’s having a rough monday at the lab

[boop-le-snoot]

BUTT-DIAL? NO, BOOTY CALL | tony stark

explicit, 5,4k words. wrong number text, family shame & wedding drama that isn't even his and a ruined first date. despite the implications of the situation, both reader and tony are very entertained. meet-ugly series, part three.

[no y/n, no "you", no name, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns]

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Another sunny day spent wasted in a conference room full of boring, old, conceited chairmen. Tony Stark vehemently refused to commiserate with them, their boring speeches and blunt, straightforward thinking. Sitting through a meeting was like walking on nails barefoot: painful, pointless. Mind-numbing.

His phone beeped loudly and he reached into his pocket, pretending to not see Pepper's disapproving look. Both of them knew he was hoping for a sudden Assemble call - that would surely get him out of the meeting - but as much as he hoped, they never struck at the right time.

Except, this time it wasn't a call for assistance, and neither it was an automated spam message with Pizza Hut promo codes. Tony's eyebrows drew close and his lips upturned as he read and re-read the obvious rant written on his screen, typing up his answer before he managed to resist the morbid curiosity that was fueled by his boredom.

Whoever it was, they were justifiably angry and the whole situation was almost too comical to be true, except he'd known people exactly like the runaway bride, selfish, greedy and stupid. He totally understood the woman's desire to just go and load up on tequila shots somewhere - so he bid her a haste farewell, all the while snickering to himself.

"It's Rogers," Tony offered in the way of explanation to a glaring Pepper, locking his phone away and settling in to continue pretending he was listening as another old, crusty white man offered his input on topics he was too much of a dinosaur to even really know about.

He couldn't stop thinking about the incident over the days, the story making him snort more times than he could count as the memory randomly crossed his mind in the lab, at the coffee pot or during dinner. So when a message came through from that very same number, the smirk snuck up onto his face before he even read its contents.

A brief crash course in memes from Parker had turned out to be more useful than ever. Irritating Rogers with pictures got old very fast, however, in moments Tony got rendered speechless they proved to be the perfect substitute for trying to articulate all his thoughts on the matter.

Celebrity appearance, she said? More likely than one would think. The engineer had nearly doubled over in a fit of laughter when she'd texted him that; obviously, the woman had no clue who she was texting with and he decided to further indulge in his curiosity by asking for her name: Friday did the rest.

A phone number and a name, ten minutes, and all her social media were free for him to stalk. Investigate- uh, observe. With little effort, Tony found both her and her brother, the unlucky groom, and the runaway bride and even her step-dad. On paper, they all looked like average middle-class families. Nothing seemed amiss.

It didn't mean anything, but Tony caught himself thinking about the woman. Perhaps it might have been the mischievous gleem in her eyes that was easily spotted in every picture or perhaps the raunchy sense of humour not much different from his own. Pretty, witty and smart - what's there not to like?

"So that's why you've been going around, smiling like a middle-schooler with a crush," Natasha's voice whisper-shouted in Tony's ear as the spy discreetly peered over his shoulder into his phone. He had the chat pulled up, debating on starting a casual conversation-

"Jesus Christ, Romanoff, somebody needs to put a bell on you," Tony snapped, startled, pressing the button to lock his phone immediately.

"Uhuh," The redhead replied, side-eyeing a snickering Barnes. "Who is she?"

Tony rubbed his face, feeling the beginnings of a blush starting to creep in. He felt like he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to and the rest of the team acting like children wasn't helping the matter. "I got a butt-dial text about some wedding drama. Some chick's brother's fiance was fucking her own stepdad and ditched the wedding for her old man."

Stunned silence settled briefly into the room as Romanoff's eyes widened and Barnes choked on his orange juice. Serves him right, Tony thought, and continued his coffee-making process in quiet irritation.

"Wait, wait, hold on," Wilson half-laughed half-yelled. "You gotta spill the tea, man, this sounds too good to be true. Stories like that just don't fall into your hands."

With a sigh, he recounted the woman's story and read the texts aloud, silencing his snickering enough to be able to keep a straight face - but not for long, Rogers decided it was the time for another one of his Captain America Is Disappointed In You speeches and Tony himself couldn't even disagree.

Now that he thought about it, he came off as a kind of asshole. She and her family was going through something traumatic and he went and treated it like free entertainment. Which, to be fair, it was, but she didn't deserve to be treated like a circus clown. She actually seemed like a good sister and friend.

"Just text her," Natasha rolled her eyes at him, grabbing the coffee pot out of his frozen hand. "You're not Steve, you can keep a decent conversation via text."

Being compared to Steve and his pre-historic messaging habits really did a number on Tony's ego; the eyeroll he gave Romanoff was truly out of this world, all but teleporting him to his lab where he tried to find a way to approach the woman without coming off as incredibly creepy, as if the fact that he'd stalked her on social media didn't already put him firmly into the weirdo category.

Most likely, Tony would have spent many many days on overthinking before just grabbing one of his suits to make a truly impressive landing on her small balcony downtown; thankfully, fate had intervened and saved him from making another epic mistake. He'd made a note to ask Thor about it sometime, settling down with his tablet and popcorn bowl to watch TV on the team's movie night.

Or, more precisely, Tony settled in to watch the drama unfold as the various members of the team fought tooth and nail for the film that they wanted to watch. He never cared about it much, dozing off halfway through most of them - his teammates had the worst taste in movies - so he didn't bother joining the scuffle except when it was Peter's turn to pick. For obvious reasons.

"If you can't decide I'm gonna have someone else pick a movie," Natasha rolled her eyes, equally fed up with fully grown adults acting like spoiled toddlers.

With a stutter of his breath, Tony's hand reached for his phone as he had an Idea.

Seconds tickled as the "typing..." bubble appeared and disappeared multiple times. She must think he's just a thirsty frat boy; Tony's brow furrowed, but the curiosity was far too strong in him. Something about her vibe, her feisty nature captivated him and kept him thinking about her.

The agreement came as a surprise. In the two minutes the woman had spent thinking up her answer, Tony prepared himself to be rebuffed gently, or, worst case, be called a creep. But no - she agreed, but not before vehemently insisting that if he would end up being a creepy serial killer, she would haunt his ass for the remainder of his life.

Friday couldn't come soon enough. Tony spent most of the day loitering between his lab and the penthouse, glancing at his phone every now and then to make sure she wouldn't cancel on him last minute. The engineer wanted to see the witty, no-filter-having woman in the flesh.

And see her, he did. He'd pulled up in front of the hole-in-the wall Ramen&Bar place Clint had been raving about weeks prior - contrary to popular belief, Tony was perfectly fine with going to places that didn't have Michelin stars - and leaned against the door of his Audi R8, eyes immediately taking note of the figure calmly walking down the street, head tilted down where she was typing up a reply to him.

Tony smirked as she lifted her face up to see him, mouth immediately falling open. The shock was obvious; it lasted mere seconds until her shoulders dropped and she sighed almost... In disappointment. He frowned.

"I jinxed it, didn't I? Here's my celebrity appearance," The laugh was a little nervous and quite sardonic. "Hi, Tony, nice to finally see you."

He smiled, unsure, quipping back easily. "Let's face it, I'm not the worst famous Tony out there." Opening the door of the building for the woman, she stepped in eagerly enough, eyes immediately falling on the bartender and the few dimly lit tables in the back.

"Not by any means," She turned towards him, walking backwards. Tony met her stare; it was just like he'd imagined it to be, curious, mischievous and a little daring. She didn't even attempt to play subtle, raking over him from head to toe. "Not at all, I think," She gave another teasing smile, finally turning around, addressing the bartender and rattling off her order without as much as looking at the menu.

Tony couldn't stop staring. He was aware it was creepy, she was aware of his clever brown eyes barely paying attention to their surroundings or the beer or the food. The woman just quirked an eyebrow every time she caught him. His curiosity couldn't wait any more. "Why aren't you freaking out?" He blurted out, cursing himself out almost immediately after the words left his mouth.

"My almost-sister-in-law was fucking her own stepdad," The woman deadpanned. "I ran out of fucks to give, sorry." She thoughtfully chewed her food, briefly looking to the side. "Not to sound like an asshole, but don't you have enough people fawning over you? Doesn't it get old?"

Tony nodded, choosing to stay silent on the matter besides offering an amicable, "That's valid."

The mischief lit up again in her eyes. "You look taller on TV," She snorted, immediately falling into a fit of laughter at his face full of outrage. He sputtered, muttering something about audacity of some people, which made her only laugh harder. "Here's a pro tip from my 4'11 bestie: when someone calls you short, you snarl at them and say you're fun-sized. She swears by it," The woman remarked conversationally, grinning a two hundred watt smile.

Tony was glad at least someone was enjoying their little... Date. "And you know all about fun, don't you?" He aimed for grumpy; it came out as teasing. His famous smirk made a return appearance as he watched her throat bob.

The atmosphere between them had changed at some point; the same old routine of teasing and dancing around each other, but this time, Tony all but purred in satisfaction, finally meeting someone who was an even match to his wit and charm.

"I do," She replied with that cocky confidence, her devil eyes lighting up, lingering on his face. "Got a problem with that?"

The plate was pushed away, napkin falling into the food carelessly as he gestured for the waiter to bring the check. "As a scientist, I cannot confirm whether a theory is true until I have direct evidence," The bullshit flowed easily from his mouth, but the woman appeared to be amused by it - for a change. "M'fraid I'm gonna need that evidence," His fingers drummed on the table, impatiently, inches away from her hand.

"Of course, Mr. Stark," Her voice dropped, she was fully aware of what she was doing by calling him that. That, and those deep, magnetic eyes made Tony's trousers feel a little too tight for comfort.

His phone rang loudly, dissipating the atmosphere they had created with a shrill noise. Captain Cockblock struck again.

Fumbling fingers, Tony tapped the green icon, shooting an apologetic look to the woman. "Rogers, there better be another alien invasion or I'm revoking your phone privileges," The woman chortled, taking a sip of her beer, trying hard not to seem like she was listening in and failing spectacularly at it. "Today, out of all days? Can't Strange fill in for me?" The engineer palmed his face, running a hand through his neatly done-up hair. It would be covered in soot and sweat in an hour anyways. "Fine, I'll be there in twenty minutes. Romanoff better be hauling Barton's lazy ass out of Bed-Stuy." With a frown, Tony poked the red icon and stuffed the phone back in his pocket, looking for all and all, like an angry adolescent.

The woman, however, didn't indicate any signs of displeasure. Her hand timidly reached out for his, giving it a brief squeeze. "Go, save the world, Mr. Stark," Her smile was sympathetic. They both stood up at the same time, Tony watching her incredulously as the woman untied a scrap of red fabric from around her neck and placed it around his wrist, tying the fabric with a loose but, frankly, pretty knot. "I like that bandanna, would be a shame if you didn't return it," She explained, shrugging her shoulders.

Tony snorted, fondly rolling his eyes, before beelining for the door, activating his Iron Man suit on the way out. Turning around before take off, he noticed her throw a couple of crumpled bills to the server who was too busy ogling him.

He forgot to pay for dinner, Tony realized as he made his way to the other part of the city. Well, fuck, he would definitely have to see her again.

---

An alien invasion during her first good date in ages - scribble, scribble, sigh. She couldn't do much more than that - just as she thought her string of bad luck had ended, the world turned around and flipped her a juicy bird, all but laughing straight in her face. Like that already wasn't enough, oh no, she groused as she spied the debris and random abandoned cars on her way home - it looked like some portion of the battle had been close to her home and only the sheer mental exhaustion that resulted from her life being turned upside down during the last month prevented her from having a full-on freak-out in the middle of the eerily quiet street.

Truly, the fucks she had to give had been expired.

The gloomy mood was interrupted by a cry - for help or of outrage, she didn't know, but the kindness in her, the very values she'd been raised with didn't allow her just to walk by, and with another resigned sigh, she tucked the nice blouse she'd put on for the date under her warm sweater and set off in the direction of the sound, finding the culprit in little under a couple of minutes.

Freeing the trapped civilian wasn't easy but, thankfully, neither it required super-strength or any kind of heavy machinery. The man thanked her and with him in tow, both of them set off to inspect nearby nooks and crannies. Logic won that day - if there's was one person, there could be more.

Hours later, sweaty, sore and bruised, the woman greedily chugged the water bottle someone had passed onto her as the amount of medics and firefighters had finally reached the threshold of when her help wasn't needed anymore. While her date and his colleagues fought whatever nasty that thought NYC was a sandbox battleground for their amusement, the woman found herself helping out with retrieval & evacuation of the civilians that didn't make it out of the neighborhood before the heat of the fight reached it. There were no deaths registered as of then and deep inside, she felt proud, knowing that she had contributed to the statistic at least a little.

Her phone was dying, her body was covered in dirt and scratches from head to toe and the bruises were beginning to ache. Tony's worry-worting was cute but the tiredness overcame her, making her brain sluggish and her demeanor short, so she hastily pocketed the phone, trailing over to the closest man in uniform she could spot.

"Sir?" She addressed him, eyeing the unfamiliar logo on his jacket. "Can I go, please?" She pointed to the yellow tape surrounding the makeshift medical station.

"I'm going to have to see your ID first," He replied apologetically, tapping away on his tablet.

With a sigh, she dug through her purse, giving it to him and using the brief moment of respite to smooth back her hair and dust off her clothing. There was a cloud of concrete and dirt surrounding her.

"I'm afraid I can't let you go just yet, Mr. Stark left strict instructions for you to be picked up by him personally," The agent gave the ID back with a suspicious glint in his eye.

"Oh c'mon," The annoyed whine escaped her lips before she registered it. "It was our first date," She offered to the puzzled agent, only succeeding in making him lean back and inspect her with a raised eyebrow. "Bye," She replied none too kindly, walking off to find a place to sit down.

The time passed in a strange way. The aches and pains and exhaustion made it stop, and if someone would have asked her, she wouldn't know how much of it has passed until her eyes reluctantly cracked open at the sound of a familiar voice, coming to see a pair of expensive shoes covered in dust. At least she wasn't the only one that looked like she'd taken a roll through someone's gritty attic.

"Morning, you Tasmanian Devil," Tony sounded jovial, all things considered.

"Hello to you too, Tin Can," The woman greeted him on par, without missing a beat.

"Now, now," He offered her his hand, which she took gratefully, before pulling her to her feet. "I come with peace offerings. Your building is under quarantine and I've got a perfectly good bed and a shower with thirty settings on it at my place. Whatcha say?"

She only pretended to think about it. Her reply was haste. "I don't make a habit of going into strange dudes' towers but I'll make an exception this once." A shower and a bed sounded heavenly.

Finally getting the chance to look at him, Tony appeared to be unhurt but equally exhausted and dirty. A few scrapes on his face and arms, he was missing his blazer, and had a weary tone to his face. Some parts of his Iron Suit were still on him - like the chest plate - but besides that, he was whole. The red of the bandanna she gave him was equally dirty but still neatly tied around his wrist, just like she left it.

"How's your relationship with heights?" He asked her and all she could do was blink, watching curiously as his body was enveloped by the red and gold, crawling over his skin like a swarm of shiny termites. That was all the warning she got before the metal arms - quite literally - sweeped her off her feet. "Faster this way," She could hear the nonchalant shrug in the metallic voice coming from the helmet. "Now hold on."

Awe and fear culminated inside the woman but the weariness had long since surpassed comfortable levels and all she did was give a weak nod and close her eyes as Tony lifted off, gusts of wind making her skin break out in goosebumps and her hair stand up wildly on her head. During the short trip her eyes fluttered open only once just to close back up immediately - all she saw were clouds, white and fluffy, like marshmallows, and the shining beacons of NYC skyscrapers somewhere far away.

The paralyzing anxiety fully dissipated only when her feet found purchase on the tiled floors, Tony's arms never ceasing to support her swaying frame until the breaths she took were her own and not the result of her fluttering heart and muted panic. "You with me, Wonder Woman?"

"Yes, Weird Science," She mumbled. "Thanks for the heads up," The annoyance had to find a way out and that it did.

"You're welcome," The cocky smirk returned to Tony's face as his suit receded, leaving him barefoot, dirty jeans and a torn tee. He stretched with a sweet groan, gesturing towards the door. "Friday will direct you towards the showers. Feel free to grab a t-shirt from the closet."

The woman nodded, too awestruck by the man and his hospitality, eyes darting all over the tastefully decorated room, the expensive knick-knacks scattered everywhere, the absolutely enormous sloppily made bed. Tony Stark liked to live luxuriously - even the shower was a state of the art technological wonder.

Dirty pants and dusty blouse went flying somewhere in the back of the bathroom as the woman stood up on her tippy toes, reaching for the sky, stretching her sore muscles. The glass wall of the shower had began to fog up from the hot water. The knock went barely noticed by the woman who jumped as Tony's voice startled her out of her daydream.

"Forgot I ran out of towels here..." He trailed off, voice dropping as he spotted her only in her underwear. She turned, responding with a lopsided grin, spying the stack of fluffy grey in his arms, the arc reactor in the middle of his bare chest. He smirked, "Damn. Can I join you?" Giving her what only could be described as a respectful once-over.

Tired as she was, her sense of humour and wit didn't go down for a much needed nap just yet. "I don't know, you tell me. Can you?" Turning back around, the woman made a short show of unclasping her bra and tossing it in the general vicinity of her dirty clothing pile. She'd worn a cute matching set of undies that day and the fact didn't go over Tony's head, she was sure.

The door clicked shut just as she raised her face to the stream of water, feeling calmer with each second, muscles relaxing themselves as the hot stream washed away the dirt and the dust off her body.

"And I thought this evening was ruined," Tony's voice insinuated from behind her. A hand reached for the soap, his body heat scorching compared to the steaming water. He stayed just a few inches away, enough to feel him, enough for her body to respond and crave more. "It's nice to be wrong for a change. Refreshing."

The woman hummed, reaching up to run her fingers through her wet, knotted hair. "First decent evening in ages. I wasn't gonna let some uninvited Predator knock-offs ruin it for me," She was more than a little peeved at the space invaders interrupting her nice date. Tony was a great conversationalist, it was easy to talk to him and he had a brilliant sense of humour. Not to mention the obvious, he was easy on the eyes.

"That's the spirit," The voice was closer now, almost in her ear. Even though her eyes were closed, the woman was aware he was reaching for something, letting him butt her hands out of the way to lather her hair, scrubbing at her scalp meticulously, until the sounds that left her mouth bordered on embarrassing. Once that was done, Tony moved onto her body, running his hands over her back, the outside of her hips. "M'not stepping over, am I?" He asked quietly, touch faltering every time he brushed over a scrape or a bruise.

"No, you're doing great, Tony," It wasn't exactly conventional - sharing a very intimate shower after an interrupted first date, but then again, nothing about this man was conventional and her life had already been turned upside down no less than twice recently. The woman didn't lie, the gentle, caring touch felt soothing.

Arching her back, she lifted her arms to repay him with the same, raking her fingers through his hair, leaning into the shudder that ran throughout his body. It was nice to bask in whatever they had going on, so the motion to face him was almost reluctant. Water droplets stuck to his eyelashes and his eyes were tired but not in a way that suggested he'd kick her out first chance.

Their kiss was sweet, slow, like they already were familiar with each other in a special way. The woman tugged on his lip with her teeth - such was her character - and he pressed closer to her, raising a hand to hold the side of her face. In muted curiosity, she couldn't help but wonder if there ever had been someone that waited for him once his battles were over.

Tony's eyelashes, the very same that had no business being this long on a man, fluttered against her cheek as they stood under the shower, letting water wash away the day.

"I've always wanted to kiss in the rain, like they do in the movies. This is the closest I've gotten," She whispered, gently kneading the arch of his shoulders. "Feels better than it looks, to be honest."

Tony snorted, reaching for the knob to turn it off. "Cheesy," He teased her, wrapping a warm, fluffy towel around her body. Both people made quick work of drying themselves, exiting the fogged up bathroom, making way into the bedroom, padding soft on the carpet and falling down on the bed carelessly.

"I'm the queen of cheesy one-liners," The woman raised her eyebrows, scooting under the sheets next to Tony who opened his arms wide, a smirk on his face. She didn't give him the chance to reply, slotting her lips over his instead and groaning as their heated bodies once again rested against each other.

She ran her hands over Tony's defined pecs, glossing over the arc reactor, raked nails over his tummy, eating up the sighs leaving his mouth at the gesture. He was a beautiful man, she wasn't going to lie to herself. The warmth that settled low in her belly grew, spreading throughout her limbs and temporarily overshadowing the exhaustion.

The engineer, too, was quite excited - his erection poked her hip - and content to be steered to her wishes by the hand in his hair. Groans and sighs left his moist, parted lips as his eagerness bled into his hands, grip firm and steady on the panting woman's hips.

Adrenaline did something to her body, caused it to ache sweetly, a hunger to be satisfied only by a lover's touch. And touch she did; her mouth tasted him, alternating sucking gentle marks onto his throat and nibbling on the skin stretched thinly over his collarbones. Tony's sighs grew in depth and volume with every silent action of worship.

No inch of his body was left untouched, the woman was an all-hands-on-deck kind of lover, happily making her way down until soft lips wrapped around the crown of his cock, making his hips arch into it, hands fisted in the soft white sheets. "You devil," Tony gasped out, limbs turning to jelly, watching the woman all but devour his cock.

She popped off minutely, a trail of sticky saliva running down her chin, sticking to his glistening cock. "The power of Christ compels me?" With a smirk, her tongue trailed from his balls to the very tip, paying extra attention to the frenulum, making Tony shudder and gasp out an embarrassed laugh.

"Uh-uh," Stripped of his usual snark, he was but a man at her mercy.

"It's not very compelling," The predatory stretch of her lips widened as she took mercy on him, giving his cock a few slow tugs with her hand. Her mouth, her hand and his cock were dripping. "Gonna let me do all the legwork, Mr. Stark?" She sat up straighter, inadvertently drawing his eyes to the apex of her thighs where the woman's sex glistened in the dim light, lips swollen and inviting.

It sounded like she was mocking him, teasing him, egging him into a lustful frenzy none of them had the energy for but craved anyway. Tony Stark wasn't the one to back down from a fair challenge so he relented, flipping them over with ease, landing between her spread legs, eyes drawn to the momentary bounce of her breasts. Tony wasted no time in suckling a hard nipple into his mouth, humming in response to her choked-off moan of surprise.

"Tony," Her body arched into his touch, tender skin hot under the callouses on his fingertips.

"Yes, demon, dear?" A lopsided grin and laughter in his eyes preceded the wet stripe Tony licked down to her navel. "Wasn't there something about not telling demons your name? Guess you have power over me now," He trailed off cheekily, soft breaths puffing over her mound.

The woman bit her lip, peering down to rake a hand through Tony's hair, snagging a fistful to gently steer him towards her pussy. Tony's smile was one of satisfaction as he obediently followed her silent order, nosing along the line of her cunt, dipping his tongue to run slow, sloppy lines through the soaked folds.

"Fuck," She mumbled, spreading her legs without shame. "Yeah, right there," Her fingers turned white at the agility of Tony's tongue on her clit. He was swift and relentless in pursuit of the spots that made her moan and clench around nothing. The moisture of her sex soaked his goatee but he couldn't care less.

He growled when she attempted to withdraw, wrapping his muscular arms around her thighs to keep her still for his pleasure, wringing noises that increased in volume with every stroke of his tongue on her sex.

"Tony- please, Tony, I'm gonna-" The warning was brief; her back arched as a broken moan found its way past her moist, parted lips, her pussy spasmed, dripping all over his face and the sheets.

The engineer hid his smile against her thigh, discreetly wiping the obscene amounts of moisture she produced. It wasn't very long until her hands, slightly shaky, were tugging him upwards to meet his face in a rushed, graceless kiss. There was an equal lack of finesse in the glide of his erection along her sex.

"Okay?" He mumbled into her ear, lining himself up with her fluttering cunt.

"Please," She gasped, her hands pushing his hips onto her, eagerly lifting up to accept the sweet intrusion.

There was a quiet stutter in both of their breathing, hearts thudding against their ribs as he finally bottomed out, the thickness of him nestled snugly inside the rippling muscle. The pace he started out was agonizingly slow and inexplicably sweet, neither of them wanting to end their coupling prematurely but not being able to hold back the need that consumed them both.

"Fuck, you're so good to me," Tony's mumbling was overshadowed by the slick sounds coming from the place they were joined. "Gonna fill up this pretty pussy."

The woman keened at the idea, digging her nails into his ass, pulling him further into her.

"You'd like that?" He picked up the pace, blunt tip of his cock catching up with the tail end of her previous orgasm and re-lighting the fire in her belly anew.

"Yeah, Tony, please," No trace of the previous coyness in her voice, the woman was more than ready to beg, murder and steal to feel the man come undone in her arms.

It didn't take long, not with the adrenaline making their blood sing and the chemistry they shared. The brutal pace of Tony's hips quickly grew sloppy and erratic, the tightening of her inner muscles egging him on. He chased his release with deep, powerful thrusts that had the bedsheets rustle pitifully and beads of clear swear drip down his forehead.

As soon as her body arched once more, Tony let go of his control, slotting himself deeply into her spasming heat, cock throbbing as he painted her insides white with his seed, groaning incomprehensible compliments and profanities through his teeth. Chest heaving, the engineer couldn't do much more but let himself carefully fall onto her chest, aftershocks making him twitch when the woman began running a gentle hand through his hair.

"We're doing this again," He decided, still breathless but already a step ahead. She laughed.

Tony Stark taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @downeyreads @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @slothspaghettiwrites @bluecrazedandbeautiful

[side-shawty]

Burn XI (Stark!Reader)

XI:Homemade Dynamite 

Fandom: Marvel (MCU)

Type: series

Prompt/Summary: Sometimes it’s only you.

Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Stark!reader, Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Requested? YES

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

•

You didn’t know what time was anymore. The rooms you were taken to had no windows and the hallways were only lit with artificial lights but it had to have been more than a week since that night.

Each day the HYDRA scientists would study you like a lab rat, draining your power to a point where you couldn’t even light a match if you needed to. They gave you enough food and water to keep you alive but physical exercise was prohibited and whenever you tried whatever they had put in your neck would shock you painfully enough to make you double over.

At some point you began to hope they’d just put you in a cryosleep as they did with Bucky, at least then you have some semblance of peace.

You had counted all the cracks on each wall, the ceiling, and the floor of your concrete “bedroom” and started to number your days by the experiments because there were never more than three per day.

You hadn’t seen Harley since your first day and you weren’t sure if he was even still alive. 

On what you believed was your thirteenth day something different happened. You were in the usual room they used to extract your powers but the usually one-way glass was lit and you could see spectators on the other side of it. They all looked like important people, men and women in professional attire waiting to see what they’d do to you today.

One woman, in particular, stood out, however, she was tall and didn’t seem to be getting the sick pleasure of watching you like this that the others had.  There was an air about her though, she stood out from the sea of sharks beyond the glass. You couldn’t take your eyes off her, only looking away when the scientists strapped your head to the table you had been laid on.

“Ready for extraction,” the scientist you had come to call Pierce — because of his eyebrow piercings — said.

“Vitals normal, beginning extraction,” said the second one, Skirt, because she never wore pants. She stuck one needle in your left arm and the “extractor” was placed on your opposite wrist. 

The pain had begun to numb as the days passed but your soul screamed at the violation. Today you couldn’t hold back the tears that fell from your eyes and caressed your ears. 

As always you shut your eyes and counted down from 1,000 several times until your restraints were undone and your body was too heavy an exhausted to move. You were placed in a wheelchair and stared blankly at the halls, counting the lights and re-memorizing the turns to get to your room. 

You were sick of this, Natasha would scold you for not fighting harder. As you were placed on your bed you told yourself that you would fight again, the way you had when you first arrived. The shocks didn’t hurt as much and the threat of a higher voltage did little to scare you now.

Hours later you sat up slowly in the uncomfortable bed lightheaded as you stood to walk to the sink. The water wasn’t the cleanest but it would have to do as you leaned over the sink and gulped it to give your body some sense of significant hydration. 

You stood up with heaving breaths before staring into the small, dirty mirror that hung lousily ahead of you. You didn’t recognize the girl in front of you. 

Your once luscious curls were dry and matted around your thinning face and sunken eyes. Your rich skin had paled significantly and you gave a fleeting thought to what you wouldn’t give to tan on the roofs tower right now.

You mustered what strength you could to ripped the bottom hem of your shirt and ducked your head under the faucet to wet your hair slightly before attempting to tie it into a messy bun. You then scrubbed your face but the dark circles seemed to be there to stay. 

You looked over your shoulder at the camera in the corner and it’s eerily blinking red light. If you could reach it then you could try to loop the footage and maybe some privacy to exercise again.

But the bed was bolted down and the single pillow wouldn’t give you enough added height. Trying to use the paper-thin mattress was also out of the question.  You were too weak to jump and that would also raise too much suspicion.

You sat on the edge of the bed as you thought of something else you could possibly do. The toilet that was shuttered behind an automatic door could be plausible. It was on a timer though, in three minutes it would open on its own.

Unless you could find the control panel.

At that, you stood up and headed for the toilet. You shut the door and heard the indicative beep that it had been shut. You opened and closed it again, listening closely to the sound to see where it had come from. You hoped you wouldn’t raise any suspicions as you did it several more times.

Maybe that would think you had finally snapped. Finally, you found the beeps origin on the left wall screwed shut with screws so small you wanted to scream. 

You tried to think of something you could use to unscrew it and then remembered the toilet only had two large screws on either side keeping it closed and after a few attempts and a raw left thumb you had managed to get the top of the toilet free. You just crossed your fingers that it wouldn’t raise any red flags.

As you looked through the few components you were startled as the door gave three quick beeps and then opened on its own. You quickly pulled out a thin piece of metal that you felt wouldn’t compromise the toilet too much and slipped it into your curls.

After screwing the top back on you exited and rinsed off your hands, watching as your blood danced down the dirty drain. 

The door wouldn’t allot you another three minutes of privacy for at least 30 minutes so in that time you thought of what else you could do with the metal. You wished you knew what time it was because clearly no one had been monitoring closely enough to notice you were behaving differently.

You thought of ways to fashion a weapon and got to work on removing the elastic from your sheets. It was thin but it would be helpful if you could layer it properly. 

This was the first time you felt exhilarated in days but your body was no longer used to such excitement and you could feel yourself crashing. Before you could, however, you subtly pulled up a corner of your sheets and exposed the small hole you had cut during your first few nights. 

It was where you had stashed the small locator chip that you had extracted from your side so HYDRA wouldn’t be able to find it. Clearly something had been blocking its signal or you wouldn’t still be here. You added the metal and elastic before pulling the sheet back into place and lying your head onto the thin pillow.

Tomorrow you’d fight like hell again to free yourself. You were counting on your family to save you but they were counting on you to not give up. Though you weren’t sure where this second wind came from you were more than happy to fall into it.

———

“Tony!” Natasha shouted from across the hallway running towards the other Avenger at full speed. 

He was leaving yet another meeting about the lack of information they had on HYDRA and any leads on you. They infiltrated another base and there was nothing to go on once again but the look on Nat’s face as she approached made Tony’s heart speed up a bit.

“What happened?” He asked as she held a tablet out to him. There was a file on Agent Morse with CLASSIFIED written at the top in red.

“I think we found her. Morse has been under deep cover for HYDRA and she attended an extraction viewing matching Y/N’s description,” she told him and it took everything to hear her words over the beating of his own heart.

“What do you mean ‘matching her description’? She couldn’t see her face?” Tony asked trying not to get ahead of himself.

“She did but if it really was Y/N she’s weak and thin. Shorter hair. The report says that she could barely stand on her own.”

Tony had to even his breathing before he spoke again, “Where is she?”

“Siberia but we have to wait until tomorrow. Security got tighter for the extraction viewing and it won’t go back to normal until then. There are no signs that they’re moving her, they’re comfortable so that means they’ll be vulnerable,” Nat placed a hand on his shoulder looking into his eyes, “It’s not everything we hoped but it’s the best we have.”

Tony nodded, “Wheels up at 0500 tomorrow?” He asked knowing she already made the preparations but needing the confirmation. 

“Yeah, I’ll brief the others. Can you tell the kid?” She asked.

“Of course,” he said and they went their separate ways, each of them already on their respective devices to prepare for tomorrow. Before Tony said anything to Peter he would have to let Pepper and Morgan in on everything, they had been just as devastated — Pepper maybe more so — as everyone else when you were taken.

Tony was on his phone calling her before he even stepped on the elevator, “Pep, I’m coming up can you and Morgan meet me in the living room?”

“Yeah, we’ll be there,” his wife spoke on the other end, her voice had changed too, it had a lot less life now. Even though one of her daughters was safe she wasn’t able to protect the other and she was beating herself up about it.

When the elevator came to a stop Tony was quick to exit and headed for the living room. Pepper and Morgan were already settled on the couch, the young girl huddled in her mother’s lap clutching the stuffed octopus you had given her. It had been yours at her age and seemed a bit worse for wear now.

Tony sat on the coffee table across from them and held one of their hands.

“I think we found her,” he began and saw Morgan bring the octopus closer to her chest. Pepper’s eyes shined.

“Where?” His wife asked.

“A stronghold in Siberia, an undercover agent made what we believe is a positive ID but —“ he took a deep breath as tears threatened to spill over, “but she’s weak so when we get her back she’ll probably be in the medical bay for a while.” Tony finished and Pepper nodded a bit absentmindedly.

“But Y/N/N is alive right?” Morgan spoke softly into the octopus’s head.

Tony removed his hand from hers to hold her face, “Yeah she’s alive. We’re leaving tomorrow to get her back.”

Morgan nodded and held the octopus out to Tony, “Can you give her this? She told me it protects people and I don’t wanna lose her again.”

“Of course babydoll,” took it and placed a kiss on her forehead before she snuggled into Pepper’s chest.

Pepper hugged her tightly, resting her chin atop the girl’s head.

“Bring our Firefly home, Tony.”

———

Today was different. After sleeping a couple of hours you got to work on the panel in the bathroom after several minutes of prying it open. You made sure to mumble to yourself every so often so whoever was monitoring you would just think you went crazy and tried to dig at a metal wall with your nails.

You coughed loudly to mask the sound of the metal being released. Inside you not only found controls for the door but also a low-frequency transmitter that had most likely sent an alert to the terminal when the door had been closed for too long. 

In a futile attempt, you popped the transmitter open and replaced its chip with your locator chip hoping that it would possibly be able to bypass whatever it was that was blocking the chip and let out some kind of signal.

Once that was done you made short work of disabling the timer before screwing the panel back into place as inconspicuously as possible. By the time you were slipping the metal back into your hair and walking out the panel at the bottom of the main door was slid open and your breakfast tray was pushed through.

On it, the same as ever was bread, eggs a meat patty and tea that you were sure was laced with some kind of sedative but if you didn’t drink it all they’d send someone in to force it down your throat. Thankfully whatever it was didn’t have nearly as much effect on you as it used to and as disgusting as it was even less effective if you soaked the bread it in first. 

After the tray was taken away you let yourself lay limp and vulnerable on the bed double-checking to make sure both the metal and elastic were out of sight. Lately, they had been sending one of the scientists’ assistants and one guard to bring you for extractions and experimentations. 

All of the assistants were untrained for combat and would be easy enough to take down. The guard would be harder, fully suited, and armed you’d have to be careful about placing your attacks. 

As you waited for them to come you closed your eyes and tried in vain to ignite your fingers even the slightest bit. You tried your toes too which had — funnily enough — be the first thing you ever lit. Your poor dad thought your foot had caught on fire. 

But nothing. Not even a spark and it made your heartache. The part of yourself that you had come to love so much had been stripped away and you were beginning to feel like it wasn’t temporary.

When you heard the door begin to slide open you pulled the pillowcase from your pillow and sat up on the bed making sure to look as lifeless and broken as you had been. The guard stood at the door beside a wheelchair as the assistant measured your pulse before putting on your restraints. 

As he timed it with his watch you glanced at the guard who had little interest in you and was instead glancing down the empty hallway. Before the assistant let go of your wrist you pulled your head back slightly before throwing it forward at full force right to his face. He was unconscious before he even hit the ground.

The guard aimed his weapon at you immediately and you held your hands up in surrender before pulling the metal and elastic from your hair and quickly shooting it across the room and clean through his eye. You stood on the wheelchair and threw the pillowcase over the camera. 

The guard’s body was spasming slightly and while he wouldn’t die he wouldn’t be conscious for long either. A well-placed punch had him out for the count. 

Assuming you only had a minute or two before someone noticed the lack of vision so in that time you placed the doctor in the bathroom and shut the door and pulled the guard and wheelchair out into the hallway after removing as many weapons from him as you could.

You took the pillowcase off of the camera and raced down the hall. The only locations you knew how to get to are the ones they took you to for experimentation so you figured it wouldn’t hurt to go in the opposite direction.

You just hoped you wouldn’t run into something worse.

———

“How long until we get there?” Peter asked for what had to have been the tenth time since the flight began.

“Less than 30,” Natasha replied from the co-pilot’s seat, her voice held no annoyance though everyone was too on edge for that. 

“Tony come look at this,” Rhodey called from beside her as an alert lit up the screen.

He was quick to stand from his seat where he had been silent for the duration of the flight and look over the other man’s shoulder. On it was something that made his heart soar, your locator had been activated again though the signal was rather weak it was clearly in the vicinity of the base that they were headed to.

 “Does that mean they’re moving her?” Steve asked, coming from behind them to see what the commotion was about.

“Possibly or that she found a way to get the signal out,” Tony replied before clenching his jaw in frustration He absolutely hated not having the answers, especially when the questions were about someone he loved.

Everyone was silent for the next few minutes, constantly looking at the screen before your location faded out. The air in the Quinjet got heavier as they continued the rest of their journey in silence.

——

As you ran full speed down the hall you didn’t run into another soul until you reached a corner. You waited until the two men walked into another room and shut the door behind them. As you did so you realized that this hallway was different. Well if you were being specific it was more like a sky bridge and you were stunned at the sight of bright greenery beyond the glass. 

Though you still weren’t exactly sure where you were you couldn’t argue that the mountains were beautiful, This part of the base was clearly higher than the basement like the part they had stored you away in. 

You were startled out of your reverie at the sound of an alarm, they had clearly figured out about your escape.

“Shit,” you swore before sprinting the rest of the way down the bridge and bursting through the doors into the other building. On the other side, you were met with 3 armed guards who you didn’t hesitate to fire at before they had a second to think.

Three clean shots and you were running again you heard yelling behind you as the men guards were discovered and swore again. Shots rang out and you began twisting handles until you found an open one. Once you did you you realized it was a supply closet and the barricaded yourself inside. 

Beyond the door, you could hear the men arguing in Russian about not blowing the door off its hinges because they wanted to keep you alive. They weren’t saying that when they were trying to blow my head off, you thought as you stacked boxes to get close enough to reach the vent in the ceiling.

You removed the bulky vest and secured the rifle to your back with the strap before making sure the pistol and knife wouldn’t move. Just as you opened the vent and began to hoist yourself up you almost blacked out as electricity shot through your neck.

With the adrenaline pumping through you you hardly remembered it was there. You fought through it, pulling yourself up and into the vent taking a second to rest as it stopped for a second. You knocked the boxes over with the butt of the rifle and closed the vent before moving back slightly to let yourself lie down and breathe.

The moment the electricity cut off you were crawling through the vent with no sense of direction. At some point, you did hear the sound of a door being blown from its hinges and you were proud of yourself for leaving when you had.

You had gotten some distance when the next shock came. You had reached a break in the vents that had allowed you enough room to sit up and bite back an anguished cry.

The minutes felt like hours as you waited for it to stop and when it had you made a rash decision pulling the knife you had taken from the guard off of its holster and cleanly slicing open the skin over the small device. You bit your tongue to keep yourself from screaming, the knife connecting with it for a split second made your bones quake.

You took several deep breaths before peeling off the cotton shirt to reveal the black sports bra underneath. You bit on the fabric and squeezed your eyes shut as you used your thumb and forefinger to grip the device and pull it quickly from its place.

It had been connected to other wires and the feeling of them being removed in one fail swoop when it probably should have been surgically made you blackout briefly. 

Once you got your bearings again you removed the shirt from your mouth and tied it taught around your neck to help with the bleeding. You held it between your bloodied fingers and silently cursed it before tossing it aside and continuing down the vent. 

Eventually, you found an empty office and decided to jump down after kicking the vent open. You searched through the desk and shelves looking for blueprints or anything that would help you escape. 

At this point, you’d settle for a pair of socks.

Finally, you’d found what you thought was blueprints to the building or at least something close. HYDRA wasn’t very creative when making their bases. You tried to think back to the position of the sun on the sky bridge and the turns you had taken since then but even then you could only guess that you were on the east side of the building. 

Assuming what office you were in you found the nearest exit and memorized it. The halls were sorely lacking in patrols for them to have been looking for an escaped lab rat but you weren’t going to overthink it. They would most likely still be searching the vents so you had to make use of that misdirection.

The closer you got to your would-be exit the louder the sounds of fighting got but you couldn’t understand who they’d be fighting if it wasn’t you. You fought hard not to get your hopes up that someone had come to help you but the hero in you had you running towards the sounds.

Your legs almost gave out at the sight in front of you but you couldn’t waste time on that. You took the rifle in your hands and took down the HYDRA agents one by one with little effort. 

Once that was done the room began to still as all eyes fell to you.

•

NEXT CHAPTER

[nonbinarylowkey]

Who’s the Fool

Summary: It's Loki's first April Fool's Day. You might end up regretting introducing him to the holiday.

Word Count: 2135

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Rating: G

So this is like two weeks late, but I wrote it so I wanted to post it. It’s also completely unedited because it’s midnight and I just want it to be done. So hopefully it’s good. Please read and give me validation.

Also posted on Ao3.

“Have you ever heard of April Fool’s day?”

“Fools have their own day on this planet?” Loki lowers his book just long enough to give you a look of disgust before reburying his nose in it with a scoff. “You Midgardians live such short lives and you choose to spend part of them celebrating fools. I will never understand humans.”

“It’s not a day celebrating fools, Loki. It’s a day dedicated to playing tricks on people. Turning them into fools,” You slouch in your seat so you can stretch your legs and playfully kick him, but you barely manage to do anything more than brush your toes against him. He grins and helpfully lifts one of his legs so that it’s within your foot’s reach. But when you go to kick him again, he moves his leg away faster than you can keep up with so you end up falling ass first onto the floor.

“Well now, that does sound interesting. Tell me more,” he says, laughing at you.

"Just for that, I don't think I will," you stick your tongue out at him, uncaring of how childish you might look. It's not exactly like he's the perfect mature adult either, after all.

"I'd rethink that attitude of yours, little mortal. I am the God of Mischief, after all. I may decide to use this little holiday as an excuse to make a fool of you ."

"Don't you 'little mortal' me, mister. You might live for thousands of years, but I know you're not actually immortal," you cross your arms over your chest with a huff. "Besides, you love me too much to prank me…. too much, at least."

You start to grin because who could argue with your obviously flawless logic until a shock hits your side, startling your smugness away. The shock wasn't painful, exactly, but it certainly wasn't pleasant.

"Alright, little human ," Loki says, voice low and dangerous. He leans forward in his seat, book forgotten about for now. "If you wish to challenge me, I have no choice but to accept."

"Actually, you could choose not to accept. I'm not forcing you to do anything," you suddenly feel a little nervous, what with his grin suddenly seeming a whole lot sharper and more dangerous.

"Where would the fun in that be?"

-

"Tell me about the Midgardian holiday April Fool's," Loki demands of Thor about an hour after his conversation with you.

Thor's shoulders slump. The conversation has barely begun and he's already exhausted by it. He contemplates lying and saying he doesn't know anything about it. After all, what would Thor know of Midgardian holidays? He's Asgardian; he doesn't pay attention to Midgardian holidays!

Except Thor has never been a very good liar, least of all when he's lying to Loki. He puts the barbell he'd been using back in its place. Better to be prepared for this conversation to take a turn for the stabby than to trust Loki to behave when talking about something like April Fool's.

"What do you know of it already?" Thor asks. A question should be safe, he thinks. No lying or giving out information that could potentially be disastrous in Loki's hands.

"That it is a holiday meant for tricks and making people into fools," Loki says. "Not a typical Midgardian holiday."

"If you already know that, why come to me?" Thor swipes a towel across his forehead to catch the sweat before it lands in his eyes. "It is not a holiday based on a religious or spiritual belief system, so far as I can tell. It is simply a holiday Midgardians came up with to amuse themselves."

"I see. And what are the parameters for tricks played during this holiday?"

"No killing," Thor says, perhaps a little more forcefully than strictly necessary. Then, as an afterthought, "No physically harming anyone, either."

Loki raises an eyebrow and scoffs.

"I'm well versed in all sorts of mischief, Thor, not just the kind that involves a blade."

With that, he turns and leaves. He has some scheming to do.

-

You have glitter in your hair, paint under your nails, and pot gummies in your backpack when Thor yells your name.

You slam the cover back on the coffee container in front of you. When you turn around, you can only hope your body manages to hide the glass jar filled with coffee grounds behind you.

“Have you seen Loki today?” Thor asks you, thankfully not giving any sort of hint that he thought something was off with you. In fact, he barely looked like he was giving you any attention at all beyond what he needed to give to ask his question.

“Uh, no, not since I woke up. Why? Did he do something?”

Truthfully, the lack of Loki sightings had been worrying you. It’s April Fool's day and you’d hoped you two could team up for some pranks on the other Avengers, but after you’d messed up and kinda sorta challenged him the other day, it seems you’re having to watch your back for his tricks instead.

“I’m worried he’s up to something nefarious. I ran into the Spider Boy, Peter earlier. He said he caught Loki tampering with his suit, but couldn’t find anything wrong with it.” Thor runs a hand through his beard. He looks around the room, like Loki might’ve materialized nearby in the half a minute he’d been standing there.

Knowing Loki, it wouldn’t be outside the realm of possibilities. The room is still Loki-less. Which is a shame because you’ve got some real questions hearing that Loki was apparently tampering with Peter’s suit and everything looked fine .

“Did he test everything out? It all looked good?” You ask, casually. You lean casually against the counter, too.

“Yes, he tested it in front of me. Everything was fine.”

“Even his web shooters? Nothing weird came out of them? Nothing that definitely didn’t come out of it before?”

Thor squints his eyes at you. It isn’t quite a glare; more like he’s trying to see through you. You squirm, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“No, why?”

“No reason. It’s just, if I were Loki and I were going to play a prank involving Peter’s suit I’d probably replace the synthetic webbing with something else. Y’know, if I were hypothetically doing this.”

“Right…” Thor definitely looks suspicious. He stares at you a moment longer. “If you see Loki, tell him I’m looking for him.”

You give him a two fingered salute.

“Will do.”

You turn back to the counter once Thor is out of sight and shove the glass jar into your backpack after a quick sweep to make sure you hadn’t spilled any coffee grounds when you switched them out.

-

“Have you seen your boyfriend lately?”

You turn to face Same, mentally preparing yourself to have the same conversation you’d just had with Thor.

You are not quite prepared to see Sam holding his wings. His perfectly normal, unpainted wings.

“Uh, something wrong?” You ask.

“Not sure yet,” He says. “But I saw him messing with my wings earlier and he disappeared before  I could confront him. Everything seems normal, but…”

Sam doesn’t finish the sentence, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he’s saying.

“Did you actually see him doing something to them? Or was he just, like, standing around near them?”

You take a step towards Sam to get a closer look at his gear. Everything does look normal.

No paint or tissue paper in sight.

Nothing to make it look like butterfly wings at all.

“He had a towel. Looked like he might’ve been rubbing something off. Or on knowing that guy.”

“What in the world is he up to?” You ask, mostly to yourself.

“That’s what I want to know. If you see him, tell him I’m looking for him.” Sam says.

You nod.

-

“Hey, Darcy? Have you seen Loki today?”

“Hey! I was just gonna ask you the same thing!” She shoves a tin in your face and opens the lid to show you the contents. Inside are several perfectly normal looking gummies. “I saw him closing the lid on this, like he was messing with my gummies or something.”

She sniffs them. “Do they even have weed on Asgard? How’d he know where I kept my stash? Oh, you think that asshole switched them for normal gummies? I did not buy those so the guy who tried to take over the world could get high!”

Darcy pops one of the gummies into her mouth and chews it so hard you can hear her teeth gnash together.

“Hey, Darcy?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe for now just assume he was just trying to make you think he did something when he didn’t really.” You say gently, trying not to let your own annoyance show.

“You think he’d do that?”

“Yeah, I do.”

When you’re out of Darcy’s sight you open up your backpack to take a peek inside.

Staring up at you from the bag you’d put the pot gummies in is a vaguely misshapen gummy Gengar. It’s surrounded by a few other Pokemon gummies; the same number of gummies that Darcy had in her tin when you got to it this morning.

-

You walk into Tony’s lab.

“Just the person I wanted to see,” He says. None of the equipment is wrapped in bubble wrap. “Have you se-- ”

You leave the lab without hearing the last part of Tony’s question.

There’s a list hanging on your refrigerator door when you get back to your apartment. It’s a list you wrote of all the pranks you planned for the day.

Except for the item on the back of the paper. That was written by someone else. And it says:

“ Undo all of this. Leave the Avengers panicking. ”

Well.

You can’t say this is what you expected of Loki for April Fool's day, but it certainly is creative.

And maybe it isn’t too late to do something to get back at him.

-

When Loki returns to the apartment at the end of the day there’s a small chocolate fountain sitting on the kitchen island. He’s looking far too smug for your liking and you can’t wait to wipe that beautiful grin off of his stupidly beautiful face.

“Another attempt at a prank?” He asks as he approaches you.

“Nope, I know when I’m beat,” You say, hands raised in a gesture of surrender. “This is just a prize for you beating me. I didn’t get any of the reactions I’d been hoping for and all of the residents of this compound think you messed with their stuff when it’s all perfectly fine. You win.”

“Smart girl,” is the only thing he says before sticking a finger into the flow of chocolate. He pops the finger in his mouth.

And immediately gags.

“ What is that?” He yells, taking a paper towel to his tongue.

“That is extremely bitter dark chocolate. Nasty stuff. Not what you usually eat when you have chocolate,” You put on your best shit-eating grin. “You may have gotten me by undoing everything on the list, but I didn’t write this one down.”

“You do understand I will have to take my revenge on you for making me eat that vile excuse for chocolate, yes?”

“Nuh-uh, loverboy, because that’s not all I have for you,” You pick up a second chocolate fountain from the stool next to, just low enough that it had been out of his sight until now. “I have another one, this time with the good stuff. I’m not stupid enough to prank you and not make up for it.”

“A shame,” he says, and when he tries the chocolate from the second fountain his eyes light up at the realization that it is, in fact, the good stuff. “My revenge would have been such fun.”

A sudden bang on the door causes you to jump and nearly fall out of your seat.

"Loki!" Thor's voice booms from the other side of the door. He bangs some more, apparently not content to stop until he's able to speak to his brother. "Open the door! I know you're in there!"

"What's with him?" You ask because all you had planned for Thor was to switch his usual coffee with decaf. And if Loki really had just undone everything you'd done, then Thor should have no reason to be angry with him.

"I may have turned all of his coffee into snakes."

"Loki," you say, with all of the exasperation in your body.

"And one of those snakes may have bitten him before I could transform them back. It was an accident, really."

But from the grin on his face, you aren't sure if it was an accident at all.

[tonystarkstan]

After Tony dies, his bots and AI’s just... shut down. FRIDAY stays on just enough to run the Compound. You can ask her to do something and she’ll do it, but she won’t speak. It’s hard to function when your main reason for functioning is gone.

DUM-E just stops entirely. He cuts power, limbs hanging low, heavy with an impossible yet present grief. His entire purpose was to do menial tasks for his master, and now his master is gone.

When Peter first walks into Tony’s lab, after weeks of trying and failing, he falls to his knees in the middle of the room. He’s not crying - no, the gravity of his grief tugs on him from the inside - but he’s shaking. He wants to stay here forever, surrounded by all the things Tony poured himself into.

He startles when there’s a gentle nudge to his shoulder. He ignores it at first, but then a soft whir makes him look up. DUM-E’s there, somehow managing to convey sadness, and Peter stretches out a hand to rest on the bot’s arm. DUM-E trills quietly, and they stay like that for awhile.

Suddenly, a projection opens up in front of them, and Peter jerks in surprise.

“FRIDAY?” he asks hesitantly, but he doesn’t get a verbal response.

Instead, a video starts playing. Peter sees Tony, and the sight cracks him wide open.

“Please stop.” His voice cracks on the request, but FRIDAY ignores him. The audio starts filtering in, and Peter can’t help but listen.

The first clip is Tony talking to Pepper.

“No, I don’t care what SHIELD says, I’m not telling them who Spider-Man is. Let the kid deal with that when he’s older. God,” he says irritably, and then it flashes to another clip.

“Cancel the meeting. May sent a text; Peter had a bad patrol. He’s coming over to the lab, and I don’t want him stuck in his head,” Tony tells Pepper.

Peter watches, transfixed. The ache inside him intensifies into something unbearable, but he can’t seem to look away as another clip is played, just flashes of Tony in the Compound. This time, he’s talking to Rhodey in the kitchen, leaning casually against the counter.

“Never figured you for the mentor type. But it’s a good look on you, Tones,” he comments, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

Tony takes a sip from his mug of coffee. “Yeah, well, he’s a good kid. He’s already better than all of us combined. He’s going to save the world one day.”

Peter’s throat aches, clogged up with cries he hasn’t let out since Tony died, but he tries to swallow around it, eyes burning.

“FRIDAY, please,” he croaks, staring at Tony’s face through tears. The AI ignores him.

This time, Tony is in his workshop, working on Peter’s suit.

“FRI, what do we think about having a feature where a hard exo-skeleton can form around the suit? Poor kid’s terrified of being crushed after the whole Toomes thing. It’d be nano-tech, obviously, but it’d provide a little more protection and be able to withstand more weight.”

Peter can’t help the few tears that spill over, and he swipes at them angrily. He doesn’t want to cry. He just wants to be better. The next clip plays, and he’s shaking in earnest now, the ache of grief seeping into every corner of his body.

This time, Tony’s on the phone as he walks through the halls of the Compound.

“Happy, be careful on the roads when you come back with the kid. It’s icy out there,” he’s saying, and then the next bit of video plays.

Peter’s tears are now streaming down his face faster than he can stop them.

“No!” Tony bangs his fist on the table emphatically. “He’s not coming with us on this mission. The stakes are too high - he could get seriously hurt.”

“Tony,” Steve sighs. “Peter is good at what he does. We could really use him. You can’t wrap him in bubble wrap and protect him from everything. That’s part of this business.”

Tony gives him a scathing glare. “He’s not coming with us, and that’s final,” he spits before leaving the room.

A high-pitched sound leaves Peter, something inhuman and pained beyond belief, and he chokes, trying to hold it back as the next clip plays.

This time, Tony and Pepper are lying in bed, Tony’s head in her lap and she runs her fingers through his hair.

“Maybe I do want kids,” Tony says absentmindedly, and the hand in his hair freezes.

“Tony, you have literally never wanted kids,” Pepper reminds him.

“I don’t know,” Tony muses, staring at the ceiling. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, looking after someone, watching them grow up.”

Pepper’s silent for a moment, thoughts whirling, before she says, “This is because of Peter, isn’t it?”

Tony shoots up. “What? No, of course not. Why would you even say that?”

Pepper laughs, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Oh come on, Tony. You’re practically that kid’s dad,” she says. Tony opens his mouth to protest, but she cuts him off. “And before you argue with me, the other day you literally packed him a lunch to bring to school.”

“The kid’s gotta eat! What was I supposed to do? Let him starve?” he asks defensively, but Pepper just rolls her eyes.

“Admit it - you love him,” she states.

For a minute, he just doesn’t speak, an unnamed emotion welling up within him. Finally, he looks Pepper in the eye.

“Yeah,” he admits quietly. “I love him.”

Peter lets out a loud sob, and the projection closes. He curls in on himself, completely shaking apart at the seams as he finally lets himself cry out the grief he’s kept closed up all this time.

DUM-E gently rolls closer, trilling softly and nudging the boy in concern.

Hours later, Pepper finds him curled up on the floor, the bot hovering protectively over him, and she smiles sadly.

Even after his death, Tony’s creations are watching over Peter.

[areiton]

still spinning

Happy Thanksgiving and since it’s such a complicated family holiday--have some Peter having complicated family feels. 

~*~ 

The world keeps spinning and the truth is--he’s grateful. 

Grateful that May is alive and falling in love, happier than she’s been since before Ben died. 

Grateful that Mr. Stark is healing, putting himself back together after the battle and wielding the gauntlet. 

Grateful that he is alive. 

But there is this too--the world never stopped spinning. 

He hung, suspended in nothing, and crashed back to life, to a world that moved on. 

And being here, in the quiet calm of Mr. Stark’s cabin, the water icing over and sun just peeking through the trees--nothing drives home how much the world kept spinning and how much he was left behind, as being here. 

There’s a tent off to the side, a tricycle tipped on it’s side and a dirty stuffed animal. 

She is evidence of the world spinning. 

Mr. Stark invited him here, almost begged him to come for the dinner Pepper was putting on. And after everything--he didn’t have the heart to refuse. He missed Mr. Stark, is the thing. 

But he’s been here for a little over twelve hours, been back for months and he still has no idea where he belongs. 

~*~ 

His fingertips are numb when he hears the door open behind him. “Do you want coffee?” Pepper asks, low and warm, sleep rusted, and he twitches, looking back at her. She’s wrapped in a thick robe, feet shoved in fluffy slippers and hair a mess of red--she looks nothing like the powerful put together CEO he’s always seen and been slightly terrified of. She looks so soft and warm, she reminds him of May and he wants to go to her, burrow into her warmth and let her take care of him. 

She looks, he realizes, abruptly, like a mother. 

It’s as disconcerting as hearing Morgan call Tony daddy.

“Sweetheart?” she asks, concerned and he remembers she asked him a question. 

“Um, yes, please.” 

She smiles and steps back into the house and the silence settles over them, a quiet hush that feels like a held breath, like the world is waiting. 

It’s not. 

It’s an illusion. 

The world didn’t wait before and it hasn’t in the months since he returned and it won’t now, with a family that doesn’t feel like his, like he belongs. 

Mr. Stark thinks he does. He knows that. It’s why he’s here, after all. 

But thinking it doesn’t make it true. He thinks, maybe, if it did, he wouldn’t be so lost still. 

~*~ 

Little feet come from behind him this time, and he tenses, unconscious. 

She sits down with all the awkward lack of grace a five and half year old can possess, and pushes a cup at him, face furrowed in a concentrated frown. 

There’s a lid on it, and she pokes it, smiling in smug satisfaction as it crawls away into nothing and she says, “Daddy made it. Nannis. So I wouldn’t spill.” 

He stares at it for a moment, this cup of coffee, longing for something he can’t quite name curling in his gut. 

He did this. Built tech for this little girl, something that was special and just between them, something he designed just to keep her safe. 

How many times had she carried him coffee, crawled into his lap in the lab and watched the nanites crawl away while she was held careful and warm against his side. 

It tugs at him and he doesn’t want to drink this coffee, doesn’t want to sit here. 

He doesn’t want to see all the ways that he’s been replaced, the ways that Tony no longer needs him. 

“Daddy missed you,” Morgan says, quietly. “When you were gone.”

Gone. Dead. It’s all the same, isn’t it? 

“He was sad,” she continues, toes digging into the wood and he thinks she should have socks. “He smiles more now--especially when you come see us.” 

“Maybe he didn’t miss me,” Peter says, and Morgan twists to look at him, pale face and messy hair in the morning. “Maybe he missed everyone we lost.” 

He forgets sometimes, that Morgan is Tony’s child, and Pepper’s and brilliant. Her expression twists, into something impatient and disbelieving and she says, “I didn’t like you.” 

It makes him startle, and she scowls at the sloshed coffee. “He would tell me stories, about Spider-man and adventures. About how smart you were and how brave and he was always so sad. I hated you for making Daddy sad.” 

“Mor--”

“I don’t, though.” 

“Why?” 

“Uncle Rhodey says daddy has special people. People he loves--just a few, and he doesn’t know how to not love them. You’re one of his special people.” 

She smiles at him, small and hopeful. “I think that makes you one of mine, too?” 

He doesn’t know how to answer that. Doesn’t think he can. So he says, “Let’s go inside, munchkin. Your toes.” 

She scrambles up and catches his hand, hers tiny and soft inside his and he’s careful, careful, mindful of his strength, and she tugs him inside. 

Tony is leaning against Pepper, his face pressed to her throat and his eyes are bright and his smile is soft, as he looks at them. 

At them. 

There’s the scent of coffee in the air and cinnamon rolls and later the team would descend, all of them, but for this moment, a single suspended instant in time--it was just them. 

Just him and Morgan, linked by small fingers pulling and caught in his gaze, and Peter exhaled. 

The world kept spinning, and maybe he didn’t know where he belonged anymore. 

But for just a moment, while Tony smiles at him and Morgan claims him and Pepper lingers, quiet and warm--he thinks maybe. 

Maybe he still belongs here. If he wants to. 

Maybe he always did and they have been waiting for him to settle back into the space that they held for him, open and waiting, while the world turned without him. 

He looks at Mr. Stark, at the fondness and hope in his eyes, the patient stillness, and thinks--if he bolts, this will still be waiting. 

For as long as he needs, to feel settled and safe--this will be waiting. 

Maybe, though--maybe he doesn’t want to wait anymore. 

He takes a breath and catches Morgan by the waist, swings her up to his shoulders while she shrieks and says, “Wanna help me frost the cinnamon rolls, munchkin?”

Beyond the walls of the cabin and the brightness of the morning--the world kept spinning. 

[spideyfic]

Red and Blue

Peter reached out and moved the projection back and forth. “Did you change the color scheme? This looks red and black.”

“Thought it might be time for an image over-haul. Tone down the primary colors, make things a bit sleeker, a little more grown-up.”

Peter bit his lip, trying to say what he was feeling without sounding ungrateful. “And it looks great Mr. Stark, it really does, but I like the red and blue. Could we change the color back?”

When Peter is invited up to the compound to work on his suit with Tony, he's surprised to find that red and blue is now red and black, and Tony wants to know why he's so attached to his original color scheme.

Read on AO3

Peter was pulled abruptly from his dream by the sound of Back in Black blasting from his phone, which was weird on two levels – one, he usually had nightmares, not dreams, and two, his ringtone was a yodel.

He fumbled for his phone, pulling it towards him by its charging cable, and nearly dropped it when he registered the caller ID. Why the hell was Tony Stark calling him at 8am on a Saturday morning?

Hitting decline, he dropped the phone face down in the blankets, turning over to face the wall and wrapping his pillow around his head.

“Did you just send me to voice mail, kid? Why can I only see darkness? It’s like looking into the depths of my soul.”

Peter let the pillow spring away from his head and reached back behind him to grab the phone, dragging it over his body until he could see the screen. Tony’s face looked smugly back at him, entirely too cheerful for someone who had just woken Peter up from the best dream he’d had in months.

“’s 8am Tony,” he muttered, squinting at him with one eye closed. “I was sleepin’.”

“Yikes, rough night? You should get more sleep, you’re a growing spider-baby and all that. I was in bed by ten last night, and I feel great this morning. Hey, how come you’ll call me Tony when you’re half-unconscious but not when you’re actually awake?”

Peter suspected that Tony was mostly feeling great because of a massive amount of caffeine, if his run-on sentences were anything to go by. He felt a moment of jealousy - he was six weeks into a total caffeine ban after May caught him downing five cans of Red Bull following a patrol that had ended an hour before he was due to sit an AP exam. “Was there a point to you forcing your call through to my phone? Because I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Stark, I like talking to you and everything, but I only got home from patrol at three and I’m tired.” Oops. And there was his early morning lack of filter.

“May still got you on that caffeine ban, huh? You’re very direct when you’re tired, did you know that?” Tony took a sip from his mug of coffee, and Peter caught a flash of the Spider-Man symbol printed on the side. That was almost enough to make him forgive Tony for his blatant caffeine consumption. “I was calling to see if you wanted to come up to the compound today and mess around with a few concepts for upgrading your suit, but if it’s not a good time - ”

Peter sat up so fast he nearly brained himself on the slats of the top bunk. “Yes! I mean, I gotta ask May, but yeah, that’d be great, thanks Mr. Stark.”

“Already talked to May, she said yes to you coming over and staying the night. Get moving kid, Happy will be at your place in fifteen. See you in a couple hours.” Tony ended the call on a wink.

Peter flung himself out of bed, standing in the middle of his room and looking wildly about as he planned what he needed to take, before pulling open his closet and looking for the overnight bag Tony and Pepper had given him for his sixteenth birthday. With the exception of the suit, it was the most expensive thing he’d ever owned - it probably cost more than the entire contents of his closet, and he lived in constant fear of somehow losing or damaging it.

“May!” he called, panicking when the bag was nowhere to be found. “Have you seen my bag? The one Mr. Stark and Pepper gave me?”

His bedroom door swung open and May stood in the doorway, his bag in her outstretched hand. “All packed and ready to go, baby.” At his confused look, she smiled. “Tony called last night when you were on patrol, so I packed for you and told him to call you this morning.”

“You’re the best, May,” he said, kissing her on the cheek as he slipped past her to head for the bathroom.

“And don’t you forget it,” she called after him. “I’ll have breakfast to go waiting for you.”

Exactly ten minutes later, Peter was sitting in the back of the Audi Happy always picked him up in, clutching a breakfast burrito in one hand and a blessed travel mug of coffee in the other, feeling slightly dazed.

“You OK there, kid? You look a little flustered.”

He met Happy’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. “Fifteen minutes ago I was asleep and dreaming about M - uh, I was dreaming, and now I’m in a car heading up to the Avengers compound to work with Tony Stark.” He shrugged, taking a bite out of the burrito. “And Mr. Stark woke me up by forcing a video call through to my phone.”

Happy chuckled, turning his attention back to the road and pulling out into traffic. “Yeah, Tony’s done that to me a buncha times. He stopped when he caught me – well, you don’t need to know what he caught me doing, but he doesn’t do it anymore.”

It took everything Peter had to stop him screwing his face up in instinctive disgust at the idea of Happy doing whatever he’d been doing and covered it by taking a sip of coffee. His timing was bad, because Happy spoke again. “Maybe he could catch you with MJ.”

Peter gulped his coffee down and breathed in at the same time and coughed so hard he thought he was going to hack up a lung. “Happy!” he rasped, when he was able to breathe again. “Me and MJ – we’re not – you know. We’re not even dating.”

“Only in your dreams, right kid?” Happy said, with a knowing tone. “You should ask her out. You talk about her all the time.”

“I talk about Ned all the time but you’re not telling me to ask him out,” Peter mumbled around a mouthful of burrito.

“That’s because you don’t look like a lovesick baby deer when you talk about Ned. All I hear from you is ‘MJ said this’, ‘MJ is so great’, ‘MJ is terrifying’. It’s like it’s 2011 again and I’m listening to Tony talk about Pepper.” Happy signaled to merge onto I-295, flipping off a car that tried to cut in. “What I’m saying is just ask her to be your little nerd girlfriend, and then you can mentally scar Tony for life and he’ll stop forcing video calls through to your phone.”

“Happy, stop,” Peter moaned. “MJ doesn’t even like me like that. We’re just friends.” He wasn’t about to tell Happy he thought MJ kinda liked him liked him, and that he was going to ask MJ out during the trip to Europe at the end of Junior year. OK, that was almost a year away, but he was a planner, and that plan involved – well, he wasn’t quite sure what, but it would be meaningful and heartfelt and away from New York and Spider-Man. It would just be Peter Parker and Michelle Jones in some romantic European city, and if he was lucky it’d play out like his dream.

“Sure, Parker, whatever you say,” Happy said, apparently deciding to humor him. “Finish your breakfast and go to sleep. I’ll wake you up when we’re five minutes out.”

Never one to pass up the opportunity for a nap, Peter did as he was told. He spent the rest of the journey curled up against the window and lulled into a light doze, only stirring as they passed the Esopus fire department.

“We’re almost there, kid,” Happy said as the car turned on to the narrow, tree lined road that wound its way down to the compound. “Hey, you know this road is called Parker Avenue, right?”

He said it so casually, like he didn’t know that Peter had obsessively Google Street viewed as much of the area as possible.  ���Yeah, I know,” he replied. “Why?”

“Nothing really. I just thought it was a nice coincidence, Tony owning this place since before you were born, and the main road in being called Parker.” Happy pulled up at the security stop, flashing his ID at the bored looking guard stationed there, who waved them through. “You know you’re good for Tony, right?”

Startled by the question, Peter almost dropped his travel mug, his stickiness activating just in time to stop coffee spilling all over the expensive upholstery. “Uh – I – what?”

“You’re good for him. He’s really settled down with Pepper, the company is in better shape than ever, he’s sleeping properly for the first time in years, and he seems to get a kick out of spending time with you.” Happy parked up in front of the compound and then turned in his seat to look at Peter. “You’re a good kid. All I’m trying to say is I’m glad Tony found you.”

“Oh.” Unused to Happy showing him anything other than bemusement, Peter grabbed his bag and fumbled with the door handle, desperate to get out and break the awkward mood. “Uh, me too. Thanks for the ride, Happy.”

“You’re welcome, kid. I’ll be back tomorrow evening to take you home.” Happy, apparently feeling as awkward as Peter, made a show of busying himself looking through the glove compartment until Peter closed the door, then drove off.

Peter watched him drive away, then climbed the stairs up to the foyer, heading straight for the elevators up to Tony’s lab. “Hey FRIDAY! Could you take me up to Mr. Stark, please?”

“Good morning, Peter. Boss is waiting for you in lab two.” The elevator doors slid closed and the cab began to move smoothly up. “Are you enjoying your summer break from school?”

“It’s been great! May is letting me patrol every night until one, and Ned got the LEGO Saturn V as a reward for the results of his AP exams so we’re gonna build that next week,” Peter responded enthusiastically, long over the strangeness of making conversation with artificial intelligence. “Oh, and I keep seeing this dog when I’m out on patrol - he’s a husky and he’s such a good boy. His owner is this really sweet old lady, she’s like sixty, and I walk with her when she takes him out in the evening, because her husband died last year and she doesn’t like being on her own that time of night.”

The elevator doors opened, and Peter stepped out into the labs entrance hub. “Thanks, FRIDAY!” He dropped his bag outside the doors to lab two, then pushed them open to find Tony huddled over something on a lab bench. “Hey, Mr. Stark! Thanks for having me over.”

Tony swiveled around on his chair, grinning widely. “Hey kid. Did you manage to sleep on the ride over? I told Happy you were running on about five hours of shuteye and to let you rest.” He crossed the lab and pulled Peter into his side in a brief, one-armed hug as they walked back to the bench.

“Yeah, I zoned out for most of it. I’m good, May made me some coffee for the trip.”

Tony deposited him on a chair and then sat next to him, making a sweeping gesture that saved and cleared the hologrammatic schematics of the Iron Man suit he’d been working on, and bringing up the selection carousel for the Spider-Man suits.

“So, I ran with your suggestion of using your webbing as an underlying protective layer for the suit, and the initial tests are looking really promising for friction and fire resistance,” Tony said, expanding the schematics of a suit design Peter hadn’t seen before. “Even if the outer layer gets damaged, the webbing should hold up long enough to get yourself out of whatever dumbass situation you managed to get into.”

“Hey,” Peter grumbled, mildly offended. “The dumbass situations find me, not the other way around.”

Tony gave him The Look™ and even though he wasn’t a dad, he’d obviously been taking parenting lessons from May, because it made Peter confess every stupid thing he’d done recently.

“OK, so I guess accidentally knocking myself out with my own taser web was my fault. And that time I thought the mayor was breaking into her own office and I webbed her up was probably my fault too. But you have to admit my ass being set on fire wasn’t on me. And that did make me think about using my webs as fabric.” Tony raised an eyebrow and Peter sagged dejectedly. “I’m a dumbass, aren’t I?”

“The smartest dumbass I ever met, other than myself,” Tony confirmed. “When you’re old enough I’ll tell you about what happened in Vegas. It involves superglue, a massive amount of alcohol, and a poker chip, and you can’t hear about it until you’re twenty-one because I think telling you now would count as corrupting a minor.”

“Can you wait until I’m like, forty? I don’t think I’m ever going to be old enough to hear that story, Mr. Stark. The trauma of future me is so strong that it’s radiating back through time to current me.”

Tony snorted. “Trauma builds character, just like having your ass catch fire inspires innovation.” He tapped some codes into the system, and a half-scale, three-dimensional full color projection of the new suit formed in the air in front of them. “Take a look, see what you think. If you like it, I’ll start the building process and you can take it for a spin this afternoon.”

Peter reached out and moved the projection back and forth. “Did you change the color scheme? This looks red and black.”

“Thought it might be time for an image over-haul. Tone down the primary colors, make things a bit sleeker, a little more grown-up.”

Peter bit his lip, trying to say what he was feeling without sounding ungrateful. “And it looks great Mr. Stark, it really does, but I like the red and blue. Could we change the color back?” His voice wobbled and he swallowed in an effort to cover it up. “You know what, never mind, the red and black is fine.” He turned his seat back to face the lab bench, ducking his head and pretending to concentrate on the coding displayed on the StarkPad set into the surface.

Tony spun Peter back to face him, turning him with a hand against his knee. “Kid, you can have red and blue, it’s not a problem. Why are you so attached to that color scheme, anyway?”

Peter twitched a shoulder up in a one-sided shrug. “I just like it, is all.”

“Pete,” Tony said quietly. “C’mon, I can see you’re upset, and I’m not that great at comforting people, so why don’t you just talk to me?”

“I chose red and blue because they’re the colors of the NASA logo,” Peter said, twisting his fingers together. Tony didn’t say anything, just looked at him with a soft, sad expression on his face, like he knew there was more to it. “Ben – my uncle – he loved NASA, like full-on fanboy. He was a cop, but when he was a kid, he wanted to work in mission control. He was born in 1961, so he grew up during the space race, watched all the moon landings, and he had all these binders full of newspapers and magazines.”

“I wish I’d been around for the moon landings,” Tony said, and Peter believed it – he had a look of childlike wonder, the same look Ben used to have whenever he talked about it. “’We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard.’ How can you not be inspired by that?” He gave a little chuckle. “Sorry kid, my futurist is showing.”

“No, it’s fine, that speech was Ben’s favorite, he had it pretty much memorized. He used to tell me all about the NASA missions at bedtime, and I when I started really getting into geometry, he got me copies of Katherine Johnson’s calculations. NASA was our thing, you know? He was going to pull me out of school to go watch an Atlas V launch, we had a whole road trip planned. But he died the night before. He knew about my powers, did I tell you that?”

Tony shook his head, and Peter carried on. “The night he died, we went for a walk, and he got the story out of me about the spider bite, what I could do, and he told me that I had power, and that meant I had a responsibility to do good with it. All I wanted to do was make a stupid YouTube channel and post videos of me doing pointless shit, and we argued. And then we walked right into the middle of a bodega robbery and he was shot.

“May came and got me from the hospital they took me and Ben to, and when we got home, she made me take a shower because I – because I was covered in blood. She grabbed me some pajama pants and this shirt.” He gestured at the NASA t-shirt he was wearing. “This was his, but it was mixed up with my laundry and she didn’t realize. We just sat on the couch together and cried for most of the night until May fell asleep. I couldn’t switch my brain off though, couldn’t stop thinking about how if I’d – “ he trailed off, his voice thickening with impending tears. “How if I’d stepped in front of him, he’d still be alive.”

“And you might be dead,” Tony said softly. “And I can guarantee that out of the two, he’d choose you living over himself.” He placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “He’d be so damn proud of you, Pete.”

Peter sniffed, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes to stem the tears, but they kept coming, and so did the words. “The next morning, I decided I’d use my powers to do good like he wanted me to, and I looked down at his t-shirt and that’s when I chose red and blue for Spider-Man’s colors. Because it’s like having Ben with me when I’m out on patrol, reminding me why I’m doing it, who I’m doing it for.”

“Jesus Pete, I don’t know what to say.” Tony slipped off his chair, then pulled Peter off his own chair wrapped him in a tight hug.

Surprised, Peter momentarily tensed up before relaxing into it, bringing his arms up to make the hug a mutual one. “Oh,” he said, his face pressed against Tony’s shoulder. “Are we there?”

“We’re there,” Tony confirmed, slapping his back and then stepping out of the hug. “Kid, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have changed the design without talking to you first.” He made a move to delete the schematics, and Peter reached out to push his hand down, before closing the projection with a pinching motion.

“No, keep it,” he said. “It’s not that I don’t like it, I do, I’m just – not ready.”

“That’s fine, we can use the old external design and lay it over the new internal structure.” Tony paused, the moment still and quiet and loaded with emotion. “And it’s also fine if you’re never ready, too.” He cleared his throat and picked up his phone, rapidly tapping out a message to someone. “Give me a minute, and I’ll show you how to isolate design elements and combine them into one suit.”

Peter felt a wave of relief that Tony had understood. It had to seem like something so small and insignificant, but the idea of being Spider-Man without his own, private tribute to his uncle felt wrong. He knew that feeling might change in the future, but for now, the red and blue was like a comfort blanket he drew around himself every time he pulled on the suit. “Thanks, Tony.”

Tony looked up from typing something into his phone, and the smile that lit up his face made Peter’s internal struggle to say ‘Tony’ rather than ‘Mr. Stark’ totally worth the effort. “See, that wasn’t hard, was it? I knew you could do it.”

“I can only do it under a really specific set of circumstances, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, struggling to keep the smirk off his face.

Tony put his phone down, obviously not feeling the need to keep his own smirk in check. “Do those specific set of circumstances include us flying down to Florida next month to watch the Falcon 9 launch from Kennedy, followed by a private tour of the center?”

“Are you joking?” Peter gasped. “Please tell me you’re not joking, Tony. Because if you’re joking there’s a chance I might die of disappointment and you said if anything happens to me, it’s on you, and that’d definitely be on you. Really? You’re actually taking me to the Kennedy Space Center?”

“Glad to see that warrants a ‘Tony’. And yup. Got a buddy from MIT who works in Launch Control, he’s always inviting me down there for a tour. I’ve already squared it away with May.”

Impulsively, Peter flung his arms around Tony in a brief hug. “You’re the best Mr. Stark – “ he faltered at the look that got him – “Tony. Thank you so much.”

“It’s nothing, kid.” Tony waved it off, like his statement was actually true. “You work hard, it’s about time you had a little R&R to make up for it. And talking of hard work, come on, we’ve got a suit to build.”

It was an awkward segue, but Peter eagerly got to work, glad to move on from the unexpected emotion of their morning. Tony coached him step by step through how to use the system, and Peter clumsily mirrored his smooth, practiced gestures again and again until they were in perfect synch, hands moving gracefully through the air as they uploaded the finalized plan to the construction capsule.

Tony wasn’t a replacement for Ben. He had his own distinct role and place in Peter’s life, a mentor and a friend and a father figure all wrapped up in one, and Peter was pretty sure that Tony cared for him in the same mixed up way, the lines starting to blur in their relationship.

 “Tony?” The name was starting to have emotional weight in his mind and on his lips, like saying May,or Ben, a whole lot of meaning and emotion caught up in two small syllables.

“Hmm?” Tony looked up from watching the webbing under-suit forming in the construction capsule, his usually coiffed hair curling loosely over his forehead, and his eyes bright and unguarded without his glasses. He looked relaxed and happy, nothing like the carefully controlled Tony Stark image he presented to the world every time he left the sanctuary of the compound or Tower.

“I’m really glad I met you.”

Tony looked surprised, and tried to hide it with a sniff, but he gave Peter a soft smile. “Yeah? Same, kid.”

Peter wasn’t ready to leave behind the red and blue, but he felt like one day, red would mean Ben and black would mean Tony, and it would just feel right to wear their colors together.

***

Seven years later, but only one year older, Peter, weary, battle worn and determined, stands in a jet as it hovers above a field of tulips and decides that he’s finally ready to use the red and black suit.

When he glides down towards Tower Bridge and the biggest solo fight of his life, it feels like Ben and Tony are there keeping him safe, their colors wrapped around his body like a talisman. Proof that they existed. That they loved him. That he’s got this.

They’ve returned to stardust, but that doesn’t mean they’re gone.

[jennifersylvesters]

birthday wishes

pairing: spider-man x fem!reader (?) word count: ~4.2k warnings: none A/N: this has literally been sitting in my drafts for about a year or so? i decided when i made this blog / wrote this fic that i would release it on august 10th. fun fact: mcu peter parker and i share a birthday which inspired this. hope you enjoy reading!

There wasn’t much you wanted for your birthday except one thing. One simple thing really. No material gifts compared to what you hoped for most. Keep the fancy gadgets and nice clothes. All you wanted was to meet Spider-Man. 

Except birthday wishes like these weren’t really simple, were they? Despite how simplistic it sounded, this was a huge deal. It was on par with asking Iron Man to fix your internet connection. Well, perhaps not so grand but quite unrealistic. No one could package up a hero and present them at a person’s door. 

So perhaps your birthday wish was more complicated than it sounded. Still you didn’t want to give up complete hope. Not when you knew someone who actually knew Spider-Man. Not when you knew Peter Parker might help make your birthday dream come true. 

You and Peter got along fairly well. Being lab partners helped you realize how nice he was. Though he was clearly the smartest kid in class, he never made you feel inferior about your abilities. The two of you were Facebook friends but that didn’t mean much. It was only a simple click to accept an online friendship; it was an entirely different thing to casually ask for a huge favor especially when it came to Spider-Man.

Despite Peter’s friendly nature, he clammed up when conversation turned to superheroes. He never engaged in Flash’s goading that there was no way he had met Spider-Man. Even in amicable conversations about favorite Avengers, he just shrugged and kept quiet. Everything about his Stark internship was kept private, and you wanted to respect his boundaries. 

The connection between Peter and Spider-Man never would’ve crossed your mind if it hadn’t been for your friend, Tyler. He was the schemer who insisted you ask Peter about the hero. “C’mon! I’m sure Peter would help us! It’d be so cool to see Spider-Man at your party! Can you imagine? No one else could pull that off!” 

You avoided asking your classmate - both out of shame and embarrassment - and the excuse of summer break helped immensely. You chalked it up to needing to speak with Peter in person for this sort of thing and that he’d be too busy with his own summer plans. That was until you ran into him and Ned at your favorite coffee shop. 

Immersed in your book, you glanced up hearing a familiar voice call out your name. You looked up from your table, spotting Ned and Peter at the cream and sugar counter. Ned waved enthusiastically while Peter politely smiled.

A nudge in your shoulder prompted you to turn towards your friend. While you came to the cafe to work, Tyler was there to goof off under the pretense of “moral support”. “Perfect timing. Ask him” Tyler encouraged. Shaking your head, you ignored your friend’s suggestion. Instead you just smiled and waved at the two boys. “If you won’t do it, then I will.” The smile vanished as Tyler stood up and headed towards the pair. You followed him, begging for him to let it go knowing he would do what you wouldn’t. 

“Hey! What’s up, guys?” Tyler greeted the duo, doing an intricate handshake with both of them. You stood slightly behind, marveling at how these boys could complex handshakes yet couldn’t remember basic math. 

“Hey, Tyler. Hey, Y/N. What’s up?” Ned grinned before taking a sip of his drink. 

“Well, Y/N is here trying to finish the summer reading while I’m enjoying this nice day and my Instagram feed.” You rolled your eyes as he nudged you with a laugh. “Personally, I think she needs to have more fun and excitement, don’t you?” The boys shrugged casually, unaware of Tyler’s plan. Your friend clapped his hand on your back, and you dreaded the next words to come out of his mouth. 

“So...Peter. Y/N has something they want to ask you” Tyler began mischievously. You smacked his arm, but his plan was already in motion. You glanced at Peter who wore a confused yet curious expression. “In case you didn’t know, Y/N’s birthday party is coming up. You guys got the Facebook invite, right?” The boys nodded in unison. “Not sure if you know, but there’s only one thing she wants for her party. And she’s been wanting it for a while.” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again. While you knew Tyler could be dramatic, he was taking this to the next level. 

“There’s only one person she really wants to see for her birthday. And she thinks they’re totally cool and amazing...And it’s Spider-Man!” At Tyler’s words, Peter froze up as his mouth dropped open in surprise. “You know him, right?” 

Despite his open mouth, nothing came out from Peter. Ned nervously glanced at his best friend before turning to you, back to Peter, and then to Tyler who seemed unfazed by Peter’s shock. Ned shook Peter gently, which seemed to break him out of his thoughts. 

“I, uh...I guess I know him?” Peter managed to finally stammer out. Ned began looking around, avoiding eye contact with you and Tyler. 

“Right! And we were hoping you could make Y/N’s birthday by having him swing in.” 

You elbowed Tyler at this. He made it sound like you wanted Spider-Man to just stop by briefly for an appearance and then leave once photos were taken. That wasn’t the birthday wish you had in mind. But you knew it was difficult enough to even get in contact with the hero that you kept quiet at your friend’s plan. 

“I, er...I don’t know? I don’t see him that often, you know? You know how it is...Spider-Man. He’s...Busy...A busy guy...Man. Guy man.” Peter looked uncomfortable with the whole situation, his hands fidgeting as he bounced slightly. Either Tyler was blind or he really wanted Spider-Man at your party. 

“And that’s why Y/N was hoping you’d help her out. Dude, you gotta admit it’d be dope seeing him there!”

Peter nervously glanced at you. During this whole ordeal you kept quiet letting Tyler lead the conversation. His look seemed to ask your opinion, wanting you to say something.

“I mean, I know it’s probably crazy” you admitted slowly, feeling the blush spread on your face. “But that would be really awesome if you could do it, Peter.” Everything about this scenario was a long shot. You braced yourself for the rejection. Instead Peter’s answer surprised you.  

“I’ll ask him.” Ned’s eyes widened, almost dropping his cup. 

“Really?” You and Tyler asked at the same time. Peter nodded tensely. Tyler whooped while a smile spread on your face. 

“I mean, he might say no. But I can ask him” Peter added, but neither of you cared. It was one step closer to Spider-Man that you wouldn’t have accomplished without his help. 

“We’ll take that. You’re awesome, man!” Tyler beamed as the two of them exchanged in another handshake. The tension hadn’t lifted from Peter’s expression, but he managed to force a smile.

With your excitement at an all time high, you couldn’t help but throw your arms around Peter. Though initially startled, he hugged you back. 

“Thanks! I mean it. You have no idea what this means to me. You’d be my hero” you gushed before pulling away. 

“In more ways than one” Ned whispered so that only Peter could hear. His face turned red from the comment, but you and Tyler were too busy freaking out to notice. 

Within mere days everyone began asking if Spider-Man really was showing up to your party. No surprise Tyler’s big mouth was to blame. It was difficult to respond since you genuinely didn’t know. The last thing you wanted to do was get anyone’s hopes up, especially your own. You hadn’t gotten any confirmation about Spider-Man, and you were beginning to wonder if you ever would. 

There hadn’t been any updates from Peter that you wondered if he only said he would ask to get Tyler off his back. You knew how persistent your friend could be that it wouldn’t be surprising if Peter lied to him. Yet that attitude didn’t seem like Peter.

Drumming your fingers on your favorite sofa chair, you wondered if you should message Peter. You didn’t want to bother him, but everyone had been pestering you for a definite answer. Turned out you didn’t need to message him as he walked into the cafe. 

While you were nervous about his response, you decided to bite the bullet. Once he grabbed his drink from the bar, you rushed over. “Hey there” you greeted him from behind. Peter, clearly unaware of your presence, yelped and spilled his iced coffee.

You winced at his reaction. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” 

He placed the cup down, grabbing napkins. “It’s fine.” You grabbed a couple napkins as well, offering them his way. The boy shot you a grateful smile. 

“So how are things? I mean, besides this spill.” You chuckled nervously as you watched him dab the coffee on his shirt. Maybe you shouldn’t have approached him until he finished capping his coffee. “I can get you another cup if you want” you offered but he shook his head. 

“Really, it’s totally fine” he insisted. Tossing the used napkins in the garbage, he surveyed the mess. It wasn’t too bad with his dark shirt, but it was definitely still damp. Peter let out a sigh, before dabbing napkins on his shirt once more.

As you watched him, guilt washed over you. Not just for the coffee spill but for putting Peter in a weird position. The two of you weren’t close so he wasn’t obligated to help you out. Yet you and Tyler used Peter’s kind nature to your advantage. Something about that felt, well, selfish. You didn’t want to use him this way, not even if that meant meeting Spider-Man. 

“I’m sorry about me and Tyler” you burst out. “He, well, we shouldn’t have done that.” Peter glanced up from his shirt at your apology. He looked like he wanted to say something, but you continued. 

“I mean, he knows it’s the only thing I want for my birthday this year. And I just wanna meet Spider-Man so bad. He shouldn’t have involved you though. I know you don’t really like talking about that stuff. I think we were just getting desperate about the whole thing, y’know? We shouldn’t have done that. I’m really sorry again!” When you finished, you took a deep breath. It hadn’t been your intention to apologize, but the words rushed out. 

“Y/N, it’s fine. Really.” You opened your mouth to apologize again, but stopped when he waved his hand. “I mean it. You don’t have to apologize.” 

Peter glanced away, staring down at his shirt before looking at the counter. He looked so lost in thought, fighting certain ideas in his head. You weren’t sure what to make of the situation. 

“Peter, are you-”

“He’ll be there” he cut you off as he finally looked up. 

“Huh?”

“Spider-Man. He’ll be at your party. Sorry, I...I should’ve told you sooner.” 

“Really?!” It was hard for you to contain your surprise and excitement.

“Yeah. I, uh, talked to Spider-man, and he said he’d definitely swing by.” You squealed happily before jumping up and down. Spider-Man was going to be at your party. You were finally going to meet him. Your birthday wish was coming true.

You stopped jumping upon feeling people’s stares before gently holding Peter’s forearm.

“Thanks. I mean it. And, hey, you’re coming too, right?” you asked. As excited as you were for Spider-Man, you wanted Peter to be there as well. 

Peter scratched the back of his neck. “I dunno. My Aunt May kinda has this...Well, it’s this thing. Don’t know if I can miss it. 

“Oh.” You heard the disappointment in your voice. “Well, you should definitely stop by if you can. I think it’ll be a lot of fun!” Pulling Peter into a hug, you rested your head on him. “Peter, thank you so much!” You felt his breath in your hair as he told you not to mention it. You knew that you wouldn’t forget this favor ever. 

You waited for Spider-Man to show up. In fact, everyone who came showed up excited to see the masked superhero. No one cared about the cake or music when he’d be swinging in soon. 

After an hour, you had a sinking feeling that something was amiss. Someone turned on the news to see if Spider-Man was busy saving the city. Nothing. Someone commented he might be in space. But it didn’t make sense for him to be there when he said he’d be in New York. When he’d be at your birthday party.

Two hours later, it was clear Spider-Man was a no show. Your heart sank knowing he wouldn’t be coming. You had been so excited, so ready. You wore your favorite outfit, thinking it might even impress him. But now there was no one to impress. 

While no one said it to your face, you overheard some party goers grumbling about the false promise of Spider-Man. You weren’t sure which stung more: their comments or the truth that Spider-Man wasn’t there.  

You tried to have a good time despite everything. No one brought up Spider-Man to you, afraid that you might cry at the mention. No one wants to see the birthday girl sobbing on her special day. 

Eventually people left when it got late. They wished you a happy birthday, telling you they had fun. Whether or not that was the truth, you had absolutely no clue. But you knew they hadn’t been as miserable as you. Tyler was the last to leave, hugging you tightly and insisting your birthday party had been amazing. 

As you stood in your backyard, you sighed at all the food left on the table. People ate most of it but a couple slices of cake and an array of cupcakes remained. You began slowly cleaning, wondering where Spider-Man could’ve been that day. 

“Hey there.” You screamed, frightened by the surprise voice. Turning around, you gasped. There he was. Spider-Man, shifting awkwardly between poses, stood on the other side of the yard. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” Clutching your chest, you tried to relax your heart rate after being almost scared to death. 

“Y-You’re Spider-Man” you stammered out, taking in the sight of the super hero. 

He cleared his throat before nodding. “Yup. That’s me. Spider-Man.” His voice was considerably deeper than before as if he was trying to conceal himself. 

“You’re really here.” Even as he stood in front of you, it was hard to believe that the masked hero was really in your backyard. 

“I am.” He nodded again. “I just...Wanted to apologize for not showing up sooner.” Spider-Man was standing in front of you apologizing. That definitely didn’t happen every day. 

“It’s...It’s fine.” 

“If it makes you feel better, I, uh, wasn’t hanging out with Peter either. I was just...busy.” You wondered what he was busy with before realizing it wasn’t your business. Even if he wasn’t on television, it didn’t mean he wasn’t doing other superhero tasks.

“Ah, yeah. Saving the world. You know - the usual.”

He laughed, and you couldn’t help but smile. You managed to make Spider-Man laugh. How many people could say that? “Yeah, the usual.” He paused, before scratching the top of his head. “I figured I should at least stop by and say happy birthday since it’s a pretty special day.” 

“It’s midnight” you mumbled. You hadn’t meant to say anything, but you wanted to get it off your chest. 

He turned his head to the side, almost as to stare at you quizzically. “It’s midnight” you repeated, voice slightly louder. “It’s just...It’s not my birthday anymore. It’s the day after.” You felt like a spoiled child, whining to someone who saved people. He wasn’t some entertainer who could show up whenever. Still, the emotions of how rotten you felt during your party bubbled to the surface.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Y/N." He reached out before pulling back, seeming nervous to touch you. That you might lash out. That you might yank away from his grasp. That you might fall apart. 

"Don’t...Don’t worry about it" you attempted to brush off your slight bitterness and sadness towards the situation. At this point, there was nothing you or the superhero could do. Not like either of you could turn back time like Doctor Strange. 

“But I made a promise. I should’ve kept it.” All you could do was shrug. 

This wasn’t how you envisioned meeting Spider-Man. In fact, you assumed you’d be shrieking about his presence. Yet you felt strangely calm around him, like you could say what you wanted. Maybe that’s why you pointed out it was no longer your birthday. 

“This looks like it was amazing though” he insisted as he gestured to the backyard. It did look great. You spent the day getting everything into place, hoping to impress the superhero. Twinkling lights were strung around neatly with balloons tied up. As he pointed out how great the details were, you blushed. 

“I mean, look at this. Cupcakes and a cake? That’s-Well that’s really impressive!” Unable to stop yourself, you laughed at his comment. He took one of the cupcakes, peering at the decoration placed on top. "Happy birthday Y/N...And Peter?" he read off slowly.

"Oh. Yeah. It was Peter's birthday, too. Did he not tell you?" You assumed if Peter was close enough to Spider-Man, his heroic friend would know that detail. 

"I mean, I knew. But I didn't know that you knew...His birthday. I didn't know that you knew about that" he stammered out.

"Yeah. Found out freshman year. Plus it’s on his Facebook profile. I figured after his party, he might drop by mine with you" you shrugged, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible.

“I-He never said he was having a party.”

“Huh?” you asked, face scrunching up in confusion by his comment.

“Well, Peter said he didn’t tell you he was having a party. He figured...You might feel bad if you knew.” 

“Not sure why he’d feel bad. It’s his birthday too. Or, well, was. If he’s celebrating his own way, who am I to stop that?”

"Oh." Spider-Man stood still before falling into a nearby seat. “Huh.”

“Are you okay?” He seemed a bit off by your admission. Was it something you said? Was it something you did? Or maybe he was just parched from crime fighting?

“No...Yes! I mean, yeah. I’m fine!” He waved his hand, assuring you he was alright.

A silence fell over the backyard as the two of you nervously stared at the ground. 

“I just wanted you to know...” you started, trying to figure out how to phrase your words properly. This was why you wanted to meet him so badly, why you wanted him for your birthday. You wanted to express yourself properly. 

“Yeah?” You looked up to see Spider-Man looking at you. Even with the mask, you could feel his gaze on your face. 

“Um, I just wanted to thank you. I know you probably don’t remember, but you saved my dog a couple months back. And before then, you helped out one of my neighbors. You’re just...You’re this amazing person and I just think you’re awesome for everything you do. It just...It really means a lot.” You let out a breath, your face heating up. 

He didn’t say anything, just gazed back down. You copied his action, hoping he would break the stillness hanging in the air. 

“Ah, well, it was nothing. Just doin’ my job” he finally concluded. 

“Well, it wasn’t just nothing to me.” You weren’t sure how he could just disregard how amazing he was. Putting his life on the line to help others wasn’t easy yet he did it every day. It was comforting to know someone was looking out for the community. Looking out for you. 

You weren’t sure if it was the rush of the emotions or just plain rashness, but you walked over to where he sat. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you leaned over and kissed his cheek. As you pulled away, you realized how insane this was. You had just kissed Spider-Man. Your eyes widened and you stepped back. 

He placed his hand where you kissed his masked face.

“Just a way of showing my thanks” you explained, your face heating up. Oh. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that. 

“Oh. Okay.” He seemed dumbfounded, like he was still trying to process what just occurred. “That’s a...That’s nice. Or, well, that was nice. Nice thing.” The corners of your mouth tugged up as he began babbling about the kiss. 

“I should go. It’s getting pretty late so...” He stood up and stumbled back before rubbing the back of his head and chuckling. The sound made you smile and giggle. He gave you a thumbs up, which made you giggle harder. 

He wished you a good night and one final happy birthday before swinging away from your backyard. The smile on your face lingered as you buried your face in your hands The moment hadn’t been what you expected, but it was everything to you. 

As summer winded to an end, you couldn’t help but repeat the moment in your mind. You scrutinized about every detail. Maybe you shouldn’t have pointed out it was midnight. You should’ve offered him cupcakes to take home. Was he alright with you kissing him even if it was on the cheek? Or did he think you were some huge weirdo who couldn’t even thank a person normally? But he seemed to have liked it? Maybe even enjoyed it?

These constant thoughts bombarded your mind. In fact you had been at your favorite cafe shop for an hour and still hadn’t progressed with your book reports. 

A gentle tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your thoughts. Looking up, you saw Peter standing next to you gently rocking on the balls of his feet. You smiled at your classmate who clutched his drink tighter. 

“Hey, Peter. What’s up?”

“Hey, Y/N. Uh, nothing much. Nothing much.” Despite his attempt to act casual, his words rushed together and could barely make eye contact with you. 

“So...” you started, hoping he would say something. 

“So...” he mirrored you, still avoiding your gaze. 

“Well, happy belated birthday.” You studied him carefully, how his ears turned pink before he nodded rapidly. 

“Oh. Uh, thanks. You too.”

“Thanks.” Usually conversation with Peter was fairly easygoing yet this one was like pulling teeth. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your party” he finally spoke, an apologetic look on his face when he made eye contact.  

“Hey, it’s no biggie.” You waved off his apology. Since it was his birthday too, he had no obligation to attend your party. You didn’t hold it against him, not when he helped deliver one of the best gifts of all time. 

“I mean, I should’ve shown up” he insisted. “I heard it was nice.”

“Well, if a couple complaints about Spider-Man not showing up is nice, then I guess it was.” Seeing panic in his face, you quickly continued. “But he showed up in the end. It was after the party, but I’m just glad he came at all.” Thoughts of Spider-Man flooded back that you couldn’t help but blush. 

“Yeah...He said you were really cool” Tom casually mentioned despite his face reddening. 

“Really?” You perked up at this news before realizing how excited you sounded. Was that too desperate? 

“Yeah, he said...He said you were really awesome. And he apologized for showing up late.” You glanced down, smiling to yourself. You were glad to know that you left a good impression with him. 

“It was the best gift I received.” Thinking about how you kissed Spider-Man’s cheek, you wondered what it would be like to kiss the man behind the mask. How the hero might kiss you.  

“If that was the only time I’ll get to ever talk to Spider-Man” - you paused, letting your words sink in before continuing- “then I don’t care about his timing. I’m just happy that he showed up.” 

“You’ll see him around again.” Peter sounded confident in his words. You smiled sadly knowing that it was true. But you wanted to see him the same way you saw him that night. You wanted that personal moment, not just a brief stint shared with other New Yorkers. 

“Probably not as close as before though. And I’d hate it if we only met again because I was being robbed or something” you laughed. 

“I mean, you never know. He’s always around the neighborhood. Probably, uh, closer than you think.” There was something in Peter’s tone, encouragement not to give up hope. And you wanted nothing more than to take it. 

“Maybe you’re right.” You and Peter shared a smile before he cleared his throat and looked away. It escaped your notice that his cheeks were tinged pink. 

“Well, uh, just wanted to say hi. And happy belated birthday. That too, yeah” Peter fumbled out as he raised his iced coffee up and then took a sip. You wished him a happy belated birthday again and he grinned widely. 

“See you at Midtown Tech next week.” He bobbed his head repeatedly before giving you a wave and heading out. As you began working on your revisions, you had no idea how right Peter was about Spider-Man’s presence.

tags list: @sleepybesson, @sophiatomlinson23, @supernatural-girl97, @tomhaz

[lurafita]

It’s not easy to kidnap Spiderman

There are so, S.O., many fanfics that have normal, human, non-enhanced criminals successfully kidnapping Peter Parker. And I may have ranted about how people always noob Peter down too much, but it just baffles me every time.

And you can of course always make the argument that Peter isn’t willing to risk his secret identity, but that doesn’t mean he can’t use a fraction of his abilities to incapacitate his kidnappers and get away.

So, keeping that in mind, I wrote a little crack piece. By the by, Tony hasn’t sold the Tower and I am completely and blissfully ignoring Infinity War. Thanos can chuck himself into a freaking volcano.

Tony was in his workshop, deep in an inner debate with himself about re-enabling the BabyMonitorProtocol. He knew that, in a way, it was an invasion of privacy and might even be interpreted as distrust in Peter’s abilities and resposibilities as a hero. And that was definitely NOT what he wanted to convey. Peter had a unique and diverse skillset. With the right training (it had taken 3 weeks for them to figure out what actually worked for Peter) he had come a long way in properly using and controlling his powers, without having to compromise himself by holding back too much in a fight. Peter knew when a situation required back up and would never risk the safety of civilians by entering a fight that had him hopelessly outmatched. Peter knew that Tony would always, always, come when he called. (They had had a very, v.e.r.y. long discussion about that. ) Tony trusted the kid.

BUT, that didn’t change the fact that what the kid was doing, was dangerous.

Spiderman didn’t just swing around tall buildings (at speeds and altitudes that gave Tony heart palpitations), or rescue little kittens out of trees.

Spiderman caught out of control vehicles in busy traffic. Spiderman leapt into burning buildings. Spiderman got fucking SHOT AT!

Tony had, of course, improved the suit and made it as sturdy and safe as humanly possible. But considering that the material couldn’t be too thick, so as not to impede his sticky appendages, nor too hard, so as not to restrict his super-human flexibility, there were simply limits to what could be done. One of those limits, frustratingly, was that Tony hadn’t yet found a way to make the suit bulletproof.

And yes, Peter had the ability to dodge gunfire (thank god for the spider-sense), but that didn’t automatically make things safer. Superheroes were just as likely (sometimes even more so) to make mistakes as the next person. Sometimes you underestimate your opponent. Sometimes you zig, when you should zag. Sometimes things just go wrong.

Add to that how Peter liked to hide injuries from his aunt as well as his mentor/dad (because Tony had signed the shit out of those adoption/shared custody agreement papers as soon as May Parker had given her blessing), and it was really no wonder that Tony found himself counting new grey hairs on a weekly basis.

He would just feel that much better if the BabyMonitorProtocol was back up and he would be appraised of every little scuffle, altercation and injury as they happened, all the time, 24 fucking 7. No, he was not an overprotective helicopter parent, stop laughing Rhodey!

“Incoming call from Peter Parker.” Friday’s voice cut suddenly through his thoughts.

Tony took a deep, apprehensive breath. Just because the kid called right then didn’t have to mean he was in trouble. This could be a purely social call. Get it together.

“Put him through, Fri. Hey Pete.”

“Hi Mr. Stark!” Good, the kid sounded neither distressed, nor hurt. There was no gunfire, screaming or sounds of explosions in the backround. Just a social call then, thank god.

“Whats up, kid? Someone treat you to a churro again?” He smirked at hearing the put upon sigh from the other end of the line.

“Is anyone ever going to let this go? She was a nice lady and it was a yummy snack. I regret nothing.”

“Of course. So, what’s shaking? You are not calling to bail on me for our lab time later, are you?” He leaned back in his chair, relaxed smile on his lips.

“Oh god, please, no one says ‘what’s shaking’ anymore, Dad.” Peter whined and Tony’s smile grew. They had a weird relationship with names. For Tony it was Kid, Spiderling, Underoos, any variation he could come up with for the name Peter, and (the newest one) Son. While Peter liked to cycle through Mr. Stark, Tony, and more and more regularly, Dad. If Tony’s eyes were a teeny, tiny bit wet the first time Peter called him ‘Dad’, no one had to know.

“Anyway, the reason why I’m calling is,... uhm... well....” UhOh. That was Peter’s ‘I may be in trouble’ voice.

Tony snapped back upright in the chair, as the kid continued.

“...the thing is, I’m currently in the office of the Captain of the New York Police Department, and-”

“WHAT?!” He sprang up off his seat. “Friday! My suit! Now!”

“No, no no no no. Wait! Tony, wait! Calm down. It’s nothing bad”

Yeah, he was NOT reassured. The kid had once stumbled into the tower after patrol, hand pressed against a six inch long stab wound gushing blood, and claimed it was ‘nothing bad’.

“What happened? Why are you in the Captains office? Are you hurt?” The Ironman suit continued to assemble around his body as Friday opened one of the floor to ceilling windows for his take off.

“Not hurt, I promise. It’s just that Captain Stacy thought this call would better be made in privat and the bullpen was kinda loud, though there was this really cool guy who-”

“PETER!” This kid! (”5 minutes until you arrive at the NYPD, Sir.”)

“Right, right, sorry. So, I was just on my way home, minding my own business, and maybe hoping that that cute german shephard would be out in his yard again and I could play with him a little and NOT THE POINT, sorry, so, me just walking along the street, totally innocent, and then suddenly this white panel van parks a few feet in front of me.”

Oh god. That was exactly how crime and horror movies started, wasn’t it? Was now the right time to have a panic attack? (”4 minutes to destination.”)

“And then this man gets out, pretty buff and tall and I was just a little bit jealous, because like, I can benchpress a french frying* [*earlier post on how Peter avoids a ‘language lecture’ by swearing using food names] bus with no sweat and still have total noodle arms, and how is that fair”

“PETER!” This KID! (”3 minutes to destination”)

“Sorry! So, the guy asks me for directions to cityhall, but he doesn’t get it when I explain it to him, so he asks if I would ride with him and show him. And, like, my spidey-sense is this low buzz, like, this guy is probably up to no good, but not a real threat to me, right? And he said he would drive me back later and that he had some candy as a thank you, so-”

“You got into the van?!” Forget the panic attack, his fucking heart was about to stop!

“Did you not hear me mention the part where he promised me candy?”

Which arm was supposed to hurt again when you got a heart attack? This fucking kid! (”2 minutest to destination.”)

“Anyway, I climb into the passenger side and the guy starts the engine and all of a sudden my spidey sense is blaring and I slip down in the seat, before the guy that was hiding in the back can press his knife to my throat.”

Oh god oh god oh god.

“So then I grab the hand and twist it just a little, until he has to let go of the knife, and he screams and the knife falls right beside the hand brake. But then the buff guy driving makes a grab for it, so I punch him in the face, right? But I may have punched just a little bit too hard, cause next thing I know, he is unconcious and his head has fallen on the car horn in the middle of the steering wheel. And now the van is still going, but no one is steering and I still have the other guy’s arm at this angle that must have been incredibly uncomfortable for him, because he just keeps on screaming and the donuts* car horn is really french frying* loud and it’s all giving me a headache. So I pull back and knock the guy behind me out, too, and grab the wheel and yank it to the other side, because we were about to hit a tree. I get the buff guy off the steering wheel, and thank god, finally some quiet, but his foot is still on the gas, so I grab the hand brake and yank it up. And then the tires are squeeling and the engine is stuttering and I might have knicked my hand on the knife that had fallen there earlier, so I’m a little startled and yank the wheel again and then the van crashed into a parking police car.”

There is a moment of silence, Tony can see the NYPD building in the distance. (”30 seconds to destination, boss. May I suggest some mild breathing exercises to slow your heartbeat down some?”)

“But don’t worry! By that time the van had slowed down enough that the damage wasn’t too bad. Though Detective Mahoney spilled his coffee all over his shirt.” Ironman landed in front of the station, drawing quite a few looks all around him. “So I explain everything to the Detective Mahoney and his partner Detective Sanchez, who is like super cool and promised to help me study for my next spanish exam.” The suit dissembled around him and formed into a suitcase in his hand as Tony Stark, clad in a faded band shirt and soft blue pyjama pants (it was supposed to be his day off and he had, for once, slept in), ran up the stairs (as if he would waste time waiting for the elevator) to where he knew the Captains office was (Thanks Friday). “Turns out, these guys have been kidnapping kids like this for the last four weeks and were waiting to get two more to ship off to some kind of slave trade ring in a foreign country. So the Detectives interrogated them and got the location for where they are hiding the poor, missing kids and like half the precinct is on their way to free them.” One more floor and he would be there. At least now the heavy breathing could be attributed to running up so many fucking stairs. “I tried to slip away and get in the suit and follow the police cars, make sure the kids are alright and all, you know? But then the Captain came up to me and clapped me on the shoulder and was like ‘Good job, kid. That was very brave, but now lets call your parents and make sure you get home safe.’ And then he led me into his office and sat me on his couch, which is nowhere near as comfy as the ones in the tower, but whatever, and told me to call someone and that he would come back to talk to us a little later.” It wasn’t every day that Tony Stark bursts through the doors of the Major Crime unit of the New York Police Department in the clothes he slept in, so the officers in the room could be excused for any open mouthed gaping that may have taken place. “And, you know, Aunt May just came off a double shift in the hospital and I really didn’t wanna wake her, so I thought I better call you instead. So, can you come over to the NYPD? But like, don’t stress. If you have something important to do, that’s totally okay. I can just hang around for a few hours until May has gotten enough sleep and call her then. And maybe Detective Sanchez will-”

Peter was interrupted from his call when the door to the Captains office nearly flew off its hinges as Tony ran right in, a desperate, slightly manic look in his eyes. “Oh, that was quick. Hey Dad.”

THIS FUCKING KID!

And yes, fine, it may not be much of an exaggeration when Peter later complained that Tony cuddled him on that couch for the better part of 20 minutes. It may also be true that he threatened to sue everyone and their mother more than once, everytime someone from the police department tried to interrupt his, very justified, fussing over his kid. He also makes damn sure that Peter doesn’t leave his direct proximity for the entire time they stay at the station. Peter gave his official statement, they got to watch when the freed kids were reunited with their overjoyed, tearful parents, who all come over to thank Peter in person for his part in finding their children, and Detective Sanchez gave Peter her card and personal number for those spanish lessons. During all that time, Tony has managed to inform May, Pepper and Happy about everything, and the three soon join them at the station. While May and Pepper take over fussing over Peter and hugging him to death (the kid sends him a very nasty look over the womens shoulders), Tony is already on his phone, programming Karen to reengage the BabyMonitorProtocol and sending the code to one of his Stark watches that he is going to fucking weld around the kids wrist so he can never take it off. He doesn’t even care how much Rhodey laughs at and calls him an overprotective helicopter parent again later. 

[probably-not-star-lord]

Avengers Assemble: Part 2 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Part 1

A/N: Hey guys! I’m posting new content! Are you surprised? Also I’m sorry this is shit I haven't written fanfic in so long

Request: Could you write something where Peter (Spiderman) has a crush and asks Tony for help but he doesn’t know what to advise him so he calls all of the Avengers to help?

Summary: It’s time for Peter to put his advice from the Avengers to good use.

Warnings: swearing, fluff

-

Peter practically sprints to his chemistry class after the bell rings. He is so excited to see you. When he reaches the classroom it is empty except for the teacher and a few students filing in quietly behind him. His eyes wander over to the agenda and he lets out a shaky sigh of relief. There is a lab planned for today, which means Peter will be working alongside you. It will be the perfect opportunity for him to try out everything he learned from the Avengers.

As more students flood into the room, Peter’s anxiety levels begin rising. His eyes remain glued to the door as he awaits your arrival. The hands on the clock strike forward at a quick pace as the minute of the late bell approaches. Peter’s brow starts sweating as he tries to recall what he learned only a few days ago.

Be a gentleman.

Show your strength.

Show your intelligence.

Make her laugh.

Always be respectful.

Flirt.

Tony’s advice really sticks with him. Peter never figured out how to flirt, and the fact that he is an awkward, dorky, teenage boy doesn’t help his case. He may be a badass and fight crime as a superhero, but when he is standing in front of you he simply feels like Peter Parker. Peter Parker spends his free time studying, playing video games, building Legos, and reading comic books. To him, that does not sound like the kind of kid who could work up the courage to flirt with the girl of he likes. His mind wanders to what Tony’s final words to him were, and he knows that if you don’t like him for who he is then he needs to move on. He takes a deep breath and glances at the door once again. He’s ready.

But you don’t show up.

The first five minutes of class pass by as the teacher provides the class with instructions on how to conduct the chemistry experiment. Several students remain confused after the directions and ask question after question. Peter likes how it helps pass time as he watches the door, still wishing you arrive. She continues giving confused students steps on how to properly reach the goal of the lab, and Peter hopes more kids will raise their hands to ask questions.

“What’s the matter with you?” Ned asks, creeping up on Peter as he snaps his safety goggles on goofily.

Peter jumps forward, startled. “Shit, Ned, you scared me.”

Ned shrugs. “Well, it was needed. You seem distracted.”

“Maybe I am,” Peter discloses, his gaze returning to the still empty doorway.

“Oh,” Ned smirks, following where Peter is staring. “You’re waiting for Y/N.”

“What? No I’m not!”

“Yeah, you are,” Ned argues, patting Peter on the back. “It’s cool. You like her, I get it.”

“I do not,” Peter says, scowling at his friend. Him and Ned both know that is a huge lie.

Fast footsteps echo throughout the room as you enter the doorway in a rush. You stand some space away from the door, trying to catch your breath. In one hand you have a late pass and in the other you have a fresh, iced coffee from the cafe down the street. Peter looks up instantly and it feels like he is falling for you all over again. You’re wearing a college t-shirt and faded jeans paired with white converse. It’s a simple outfit you managed to pull together this morning as you frantically tried to get ready, but Peter thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. He thinks you’d look good in absolutely anything. Your hair is falling down along your shoulders in messy waves, and Peter craves running his fingers through it as he has you wrapped in his arms. 

“Y/N!” the teacher exclaims, shooting you a smile. “I’m glad you could finally join us.”

You smile sheepishly, slightly embarrassed you barged in on the lesson. “Yeah, I’m so sorry I’m late,” you apologize, handing her the late pass. Her eyes dart to the coffee in your hand and you grow even more embarrassed.

“No worries,” she reassures. “You can go take your seat next to Peter. I’m just going over the lab we will be completing today. Let me know if you have any questions.”

“Okay, thank you,” you mumble with a nod. You walk delicately over to the supplies station at the front of the room and retrieve the ridiculously silly safety goggles. Peter’s eyes remain on you as you go through the basic procedure before setting up a lab. He knows you will be approaching him soon and his heart nearly beats out of his chest.

“Dude,” Ned whispers. “Your heart has a total boner right now.”

Peter glares at his friend. “Shut the fuck up,” he defends, pushing Ned away from his lab bench. “Go away! Go!.”

“Whoa,” you laugh, gaining Peter’s attention. “Watch your language, Peter.”

“Yeah, sorry,” he murmurs, completely unsure what to say to your joke. Peter brings a hand to the back of his neck anxiously. He tells himself he needs to be a gentleman. You go to have a seat at the lab bench and he pulls the stool out for you, assisting you in sitting down.

“Why thank you, Peter,” you snicker as he helps you. “What’s the special treatment for?”

“Just...trying to be a gentleman...I guess.”

You shake your head and laugh. You have no idea what has gotten into Peter today, but he seems unusually awkward to you. The two of you work quietly for a while, preparing the materials for the experiment. You desperately want him to say something or for you to find something to talk about. The crush you have been harboring for Peter since the beginning of the school year grows more every time you talk to him. It’s a little difficult for you to figure out what to say, due to the lighthearted awkwardness of the conversations you and Peter endure in. Yet, you enjoy them nonetheless.

Peter barely focuses on what he is supposed to be doing for class and instead wonders how he can demonstrate his strength. With his powers, he is one of the strongest Avengers, but he knows there is no use for that in the classroom. Instead, he moves onto demonstrating his intelligence to you. Disrupting the silence, he immediately begins mixing the provided chemicals together in a test tube.

“Peter,” you scold, eyes widening as you watch him pour almost all of the given supplies in one test tube. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I already know how to do this experiment,” he claims, trying his best to smirk at you while also watch what he is doing. “I figured it out while our teacher was talking.”

“You mean while she was explaining the instructions?”

He shrugs. “I guess so, yeah.”

“Well,” you begin, your stare glazing over the remaining materials on the lab bench. “I still need to know how to do it.”

“Oh, shit, right,” Peter mutters, blushing. He knew that you also needed to help with the lab and him just taking over to show how smart he is was probably not the best decision. He sighs and thinks about being respectful. “I’m sorry, Y/N”

“Peter, it’s okay.” The corners of your mouth quirk up into a bright smile as you laugh wholeheartedly at Peter. He grins to himself, knowing he at least was able to make you laugh. “I just...” you trail off and take a deep breath. “Care to explain how to do this?”

Peter nods eagerly as he clarifies everything about the lab. You’re not even really listening, as you already understand the directions, but you love watching Peter talk like this. He gets passionate about certain subjects and you’ve desired to see him babble about what he loves. The way his eyes light up and his hands gesture to the air as he demonstrates what he is saying makes your heart skip a beat. You rest your head on your hand as you watch him go on and on about the silly experiment.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah...”

Peter chuckles. “So...does it make sense now?”

You sit right up as a blush creeps to your cheeks. You were just shamelessly watching Peter and he totally caught on. “Yeah, it makes sense now. Thank you,” you state quickly as your hands fumble with some loose materials on the lab bench.

Peter watches you intently and decides now is his chance to find out the truth. He did what the Avengers advised him to do, except for the flirting. Peter knows that he wouldn't be very good at that anyway. He makes up things to say in his head and tries to decide what the perfect words are. How does one ask out the girl of their dreams?

Meanwhile, you debate if you should question Peter on his strange behavior. You’ve known for a long time that Peter just happens to be an awkward teenager, as most are, but the way he acts around you is clearly distinct from the way he acts towards others. There is a possibility he could return your feelings, and if there is, you want to know. You conclude that right now is your chance to discover how he feels.

Peter takes a deep breath, ready to find out the answer to his longing question.

You take a deep breath, ready to find out the answer to your longing question.

“Peter?”

“Y/N?”

The two of you blush at the fact you spoke at the same time, laughing nervously. Then you both try and speak again, making an effort to apologize for interrupting. Yet again, you find yourselves speaking at the same time. The stuttered nonsense spills out of your mouths quickly with no filter. Finally, you both choose to be silent for a moment. Peter gestures for you to go ahead, making a mental note that he is taking Steve’s advice by being gentlemanly.

“Peter...do you like me?” you ask, your voice low and shaky. Peter freezes at the question, unsure how to truly respond. He knows he likes you and that he was actually planning on confessing how he feels just moments before. But, in the moment, his anxieties get the best of him and all he can do is stand silently stunned.

“I...I was actually...” he tries to steady his breathing with a flustered chuckle, but it barely helps. “I was actually going to...I was just about to...”

You meet his eyes and smile. “Is that what you were just about to tell me?” He nods. “So, I guess that explains how weird you’ve been acting today.”

“Yeah, well, I tried taking some advice from friends. It didn’t work out as well as I had hoped.”

“You didn’t need to ask anyone for advice, Peter,” you giggle. “I like you just as you are.”

“Really?”

“Really.” 

permanent tag list: @lolabean1998 @thisismysecrethappyplace @crazystarlady

marvel tag list: @verkyun

[ijustreallylovezebras]

Family

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter meets the reader for the first time. The reader has grown up under the wing of all of the Avengers and hasn’t met many new people before. 

Requested: No

The compound was relatively quiet - for the compound. There were still the distant sounds of Bucky and Sam’s arguing, murmurs from FRIDAY and Bruce. It felt like home.

I was four years old when I was rescued by the Avengers. It was on one of their first missions together, I was being held at a base as a result of something that my parents had done, having seen them murdered before my eyes. 

Steve had found me, curled up in the corner of the room and had tried to coax me out. However, when he took too long Thor came looking for him. The God of Thunder was clearly startled by my presence but I remember how he knelt down, leaving his hammer to the side, and held his large hand out for me to take. 

“Come on, little one, this is no place for such a young girl,”

His voice had been gentle and I remember grabbing his hand, shivering slightly at how cold the room I had been held captive in was. When we got back to the jet, Thor having carried me back as I could not keep up with him and Steve, being four years old at the time, I can remember Tony’s face of complete shock and almost horror at the prospect of keeping me.

I didn’t understand back then what he was saying when he told Thor and Steve, whose lap I had moved onto after settling onto the jet, that I couldn’t stay with them. Of course I didn’t. I was far too young. I didn’t even understand that I was never going to see my parents again.

Nat had pulled me to her then, lifting me up as though she was examining me.

“Small,” she had said. Tony was still arguing that they couldn’t keep me. Then Nat had passed me to Bruce and a small smile lit up his face as he held me cautiously.

“But look at her, Tony, we can’t just hand her over to adoption,” 

Bruce was soft spoken, almost shy, a stark contrast from the other heroes who surrounded me and when I had started to cry, scared by the loud arguments that had broken out between them he held me close, quieting me down. I was moved from his arms then, into Thor’s strong ones. His long blond hair tickled my face and I remember rubbing my eyes from the tears as I looked up at the God.

“We will look after you, little one,”

Since then I had lived in the Avenger’s compound with Bruce, Tony and Nat. Clint would come by often and would take me to visit his family on the farm. Laura loved having me around and, now that I was much older, I would babysit the kids for her. When I got frustrated with Tony or Sam (who moved into the tower about four years ago) I had a room in Steve’s apartment that I would stay in for a couple of days. 

When Bucky then moved into the compound about a year after Sam, I had been twelve years old and not used to people. I was used to the loud hustle and bustle that came with being the ‘kid’ of the Avengers but Bucky was quiet, almost scared. I didn’t know how to act around him, not meeting many new people as Tony had decided that it was better for me to be home schooled than for me to attend school with the other kids considering what my ‘parents’ did. 

Bucky seemed terrified of hurting me the second he met me and actively avoided me for the first three months that he lived at the tower for. It wasn’t until he woke me one night screaming from a nightmare that he started paying attention to me. Steve hadn’t let me in the room, telling me it was too dangerous and Bucky had shouted at me to go away. I went away. To the kitchen. Where I made him hot chocolate with cream and marshmallows, the way that Steve and Sam would make me when I had nightmares.

The screaming had stopped by the time I got back to Bucky’s room and I pushed the door open gently and cautiously, not wanting to spill any of the drink. Steve looked up and gave me a soft smile. The two men were sat on Bucky’s bed, Bucky had his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking slightly as he continued to cry.

“Hey, love, what have you got there?” Steve asked me.

“Hot chocolate for Bucky,” my voice was quiet and Steve smiled even wider at that, especially when Bucky’s head shot up to look at me with what appeared like wonder on his face. Steve gestured for me to come over and I did. I stood in front of Bucky and held out the hot chocolate to him and the super soldier took it with a small smile on his face.

“You should be asleep, Y/N,” Steve said as I climbed onto the bed between the two men. I yawned.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I say, feeling myself starting to tire. I lent with my head on Bucky’s lap and my feet in Steve’s and fell asleep. When I woke the next morning I was still in Bucky’s bed, the super soldier asleep on the sofa.

Since then, Bucky had not stopped looking out for me.

I hadn’t spoken to many people outside of the Avengers. I didn’t attend public school and had no friends my own age and almost no social skills. I spoke to Shuri, who would often come and visit me from Wakanda and the two of us had grown close and we would often send each other memes, that was what our friendship consisted of - memes and vines. It was beautiful.

That was why, when I heard that Tony was showing a kid about my age, maybe a year younger around the compound, I wanted to run and hide. I would have succeeded too if I hadn’t been caught by Bruce as I was rushing out of the kitchen, my arms full of half-finished school work. The doctor spun me around and walked me back to the kitchen table.

“You still have work to do, Y/N. Sit down and finish your chemistry and history,” Bruce says sternly and I groan.

“But Uncle Bruce-” I begin to whine but he cuts me off.

“No excuses Y/N, do I need to get someone to sit in here with you to make sure you do your work?” He asks, gently pushing my shoulders down so I sat back at the table. I groaned, slumping down in my chair. 

“You’re the worst,” I grumble but Bruce simply laughs, flipping on the kettle.

“Are you stuck with anything? FRIDAY said that you spent ages looking at your physics book,”

“I feel asleep on them,” I admit sheepishly and Bruce shoots me an unimpressed look. “I’m sorry Uncle Bruce! I know that you and Uncle Tony love all of that stuff but I just don’t get it! Like, history and chemistry is so much more interesting and so much easier to understand,”

“That’s my girl,” Bucky laughs, coming in and ruffling my hair on his way past on his way to the fridge. I grin at him.

“See, Uncle Bucky gets it,”

“Uncle Bucky lived through it,” Bruce replies, mildly unimpressed. “You’re living through all of these physics phenomenons and you aren’t at all interested, I don’t get it,”

“The kid just prefers history and languages, Bruce. Old blokes like me and Steve are far more interesting than you physicists,” Bucky grins, making a sandwich as he speaks. Bruce pulls a face at Bucky’s turned back and I giggle at it.

“That does remind me, Nat wanted me to give you this,” Bruce says, pulling out a book. “Russian stories or something?” He says and I nod.

“Thanks, Auntie Nat wanted me to read them when I have time,” I shrug, adding them to my pile of books.

“How is your Russian coming on?” Bucky asks, turning around to lean against the counter as he talks to me.

“Alright, I guess, Auntie Nat keeps on bugging me about pronunciation but then I point out that I can barely speak English never mind Russian,” Bucky snorts at that as Bruce checks his watch.

“Okay, I’m heading back down to the lab, Y/N, if I hear from FRIDAY that you’re trying to leave without finishing your work again, I will send someone to watch,”

“I’ll watch,” Bucky volunteers and I roll my eyes.

“You’re worse than me, Uncle Buck, the second Uncle Steve arrives you’ll be gone,” I grin and Bucky winks at me as Bruce leaves, coffee mug in hand.

I work in silence for another half hour, a constant fear that Tony’s going to arrive in the kitchen with the kid. I had heard some things about him, I knew that he was Spider-Man and that he was young compared to the rest of the Avengers and his name was Peter. Other than that, though, I was clueless about the kid. 

Then FRIDAY interrupted my study session.

“Thor has returned from Asgard,” she announces and my head shoot up and I take off running towards the staircase. I rush past a few of the other Avengers who were also heading downstairs to greet the God of Thunder but they laugh and let me pass as they see me sprinting down the halls, basically jumping down the stairs.

I barely take note of Tony’s presence in front of Thor, greeting back the God and Thor appears to notice me too, pushing Tony out of the way just in time to catch me as I launch myself into his arms.

“Uncle Thor!” I grin, hugging him tightly. 

I had always been especially close with Thor and when I was younger I used to hate him leaving for Asgard so much that I would cry for days on end for him to return. As a result of Tony and Steve telling him this, he made his visits to Earth more frequent to make sure that I was okay.

“Hello, little one,” he smiles, swinging me around as he has done since I was four years old. 

“You were gone ages,” I groan and Thor chuckles, setting me down and taking in my features.

“I am sorry, little one, there was much to be done on Asgard,” he apologises. “You have changed though,” I laugh.

“That’s what happens when you’re gone for months, Uncle Thor, I get a haircut,”

“I like it, you look very nice,” he then bends down to whisper into my ear, “I have a present for you,” he smiles and then straightens up to greet everyone else.

Thor would always bring me home presents from realms he visited. It started the first time that I cried over him leaving and he had carried the notion on ever since then. 

“While we’re doing introductions, Peter this is our kid, Y/N,” Tony says. I whirl around, the idea of meeting Tony’s companion having completely slipped my mind in the joy of seeing Thor again.

“Your kid, like all of yours kid?” Peter asks in confusion.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Tony shrugs. I smile shyly at Peter, offering my hand which he shakes with a smile.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you,”

“You too,” Peter grins. He was cute, messy brown hair, pretty eyes, a wide, bright smile that lit up his whole face. He was wearing a simple outfit of just a hoodie and a pair of jeans with a school bag slung over one shoulder. “I’ve never seen you around, where do you go to school?” He asks me.

“I’m home schooled,” I reply quietly, looking at my hands, flushed with embarrassment. 

“Y/N, how about you show Parker round while we talk to Thor,” Tony says and I catch his eye and blush when he wiggles his eyebrows at me. Steve shoots him a disapproving look and Thor frowns deeply at Tony’s actions. 

“So, homeschooled, what’s that like?” Peter asks and I smile at how adorably awkward he is, clearly even less sure than me how to start a conversation.

“Well, it works out well when you have someone to teach every subject living with you,” I point out and Peter smiles at that as I lead him upstairs.

“I mean you do live with Captain America. I’m sure he’s a pretty good history teacher,”

“Yeah, him and Buck taught me half of my course for history,” I admit with a grin in Peter’s direction.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Sure?”

“I’ve always been slightly scared by them,”

“Who? Uncle Bucky and Uncle Steve?” I question.

“Yeah and Thor,”

“All three of them are lovely, they just look scary,”

“Really?”

“Really, they raised me so they’ve had to be polite,” I grin.

A couple of months passed and Peter and I talked often, he even invited me out to a coffee shop with his friends Michelle and Ned after he finished school one day. It was nice to finally have friends my age and since we were learning the same courses we had a nice time complaining about how difficult they were. The only difference was that I was also learning Russian and I had grown to love speaking in Russian around them and hearing them trying to guess what I was saying.

I had grown a crush on Peter, it was painfully obvious for everyone to see and Michelle had tried to assure me that Peter liked me too, though I wasn’t entirely convinced. Peter saw me as a best friend, nothing more.

One night I woke to an insistent tap on my window. I groaned, rolling out of bed and opening the curtains to reveal Peter in his spiderman suit.

“Peter?” I question, opening the window. It was raining quite hard outside and I pulled him in. “What are you doing?” I question, feeling how cold he was.

“Can I stay here tonight? I don’t want to go home in the storm,” he admits, a little shyly. I nod straight away.

“Yeah, of course you can, Peter! Look, I’ll go and find some clothes for you to change into. There’s a towel in my bathroom. Go and dry off, alright,” I say, seriously worried about him. He was soaking wet and shivering. “You’re an idiot for going outside in that, Parker,” I huff, searching around my room for a pair of sweatpants I knew that Sam had passed down to me and a shirt I had stolen from Bucky a while ago after he grew out of it.

“Is that my hoodie?” Peter asks after changing into the clothes I gave him, coming out an shaking his hair our to dry, almost like a dog.

I look down and blush. “Sorry, I guess I never gave it back,” I apologise but Peter grins, shaking his head.

“Don’t be silly, you look adorable in it,” he smiles, coming across the room to hug me. I relax in his arms, putting mine around his waist and resting my head on his chest.

“Peter?” He makes a noise of acknowledgement. “This might be a really bad time to mention it but I like you a lot,” I murmur and Peter chuckles.

“It’s never a bad time to mention that, sweetheart,” he says, gently tilting my head up to press a feather-light kiss to my lips. I smile widely at the action. “Your dads are going to kill me tomorrow, aren’t they?”

‘Series’ Masterlist

I don’t know, I just thought this was a cute idea

[purest-bean-peter-parker]

Whumptober Day 1: Stabbing

I have no clue how many words are in this.

There is nothing graphic in here.

This is my first MCU fic I’ve uploaded to here so I’m excited! The story is below the cut. Idak how angry this is but that’s fine. It’s only day one yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a particularly hard fall the night before, Aunt May vetoed patrolling tonight, leaving Peter with nothing to do. School had just ended and all peter could think about was declining the chance to be an Avenger. It’s all he’d been thinking about in the weeks since it happened. What had he been thinking? Making such a huge decision so quickly.

Peter was walking down a somewhat busy sidewalk. He has decided to walk today instead of taking the subway. He had nothing better to do. The wall from school to their apartment wasn’t a short one but it wasn’t exactly long either.

Peter was too lost on his head to notice the threat. Be fore he knew it, he was being knocked out of his thoughts by a weight hitting his side, then pulling him into a near alleyway. He normally would have been able to get away but he was dazed by the sudden change. Peter, finally coming back to himself, noticed that he was surrounded by three fairly large men. A quick look around told him that he must have taken a wrong turn while he was thinking.

Next thing he knew, one of the men was charging him, grabbing for his shoulder. He easily dodged the man and then the hand that tried to get him from behind. Taking in three men at once would be a challenge, especially while he was injured, but he had dealt with worse. These petty criminals are nothing compared to the Vulture.

Over the next few minutes, some kicks and punches were landed from both sides, but Peter had managed to ground two of the men, leaving one left. Peter realized early into the fight thy they were going for his back pack, his phone, anything that had value.

The last mugger was standing across from him, buddies on the ground behind him. “You know what kid?” The mans voice was gravely and deep, “keep your stuff. I don’t care. But nobody messes with my pals,” and with that, the man charged him. Peter, a bit winded from fighting the other two wasn’t able to dodge in time, and quickly realized that he man wasn’t just tackeling him. The was a sharp, burning pain in his abdomen. He had been stabbed.

The men made their escape from the freaky fighting kid and booked it, but they were te least if Peter’s concerns. He has just been stabbed. He was in shock. He sat there in the dank floor just looking at the hand covering his wound. Blood was spilling out of him. He felt sick, from seeing all the blood, he thought. But he quickly turned and vomited onto the ground. What looks like a mix of bike and coffee grounds lay next to him. Definitely not good.

Seeing the vomit seemed to snap him out of his stupor as he grabbed for the now very cracked phone that sits in his pocket. He calls the first person he thinks.

“Hey kid, what’s up?” The voice of his mentor spoke to him through the phone.

“I’m- I’m uh, um-“ Peter stopped to catch his breath.

“Kid, what’s going on?” Tony’s voice was suddenly filled with concern. Peter heard something moving in the background, but maybe he just imagined it. “Speak to me, Pete. What happened?” Peter realized that he hadn’t been talking.

“I’ve been-“ a coughing fit cut him off. He covered his mouth with his arm and found it covered in blood when he brought it back from his face. “The- the guy he, um, he stabbed me, and I-I think I’m bleeding internally and um-“ Peter was cut off by his own heavy breathing.

“Shit, Peter, where are you?” Now he knew that he heard moving in the background.

“I don’t know,” Peter admitted, “I-I think I made a wrong turn.”

“Just hang in there, kid. I’m on my way.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Within the next few minutes, Tony showed up and landed next to the injured teen.

“Show me,” the man demanded.

“Show you what?” Peter was out of it from blood loss, Tony noticed quickly.

Tony decided to skip the what would be fruitless conversation and put pressure on the wound. Peter groaned in pain and Tony could only whisper a soft apology in response. He carefully lifted the boy off the ground and into his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They made it to the compound surprisingly quickly. On the way there, Tony had called the medical staff and told them about their new patient. He held full trust in these people. None of them would question why a teenager was being brought in and they would all keep quiet about it too.

As soon as the two landed, Peter was being taken from his arms and pulled on to a gurney. Tony wasn’t stupid, he knew that there were to be a few hours of surgery coming up for the kid. He took this time to get out of his suit and call May.

Tony told her everything that he knew about the situation, which wasn’t very much. May stayed that she would get there as soon as she could, but it was rush hour, and she had to drive up state to the compound. She hung up, leaving Tony to wonder through his thoughts about how this all could have happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours went by before someone came to collect Tony. He had been sitting in his lab stressing over Peter when they found him. He would be fine.

The genius didn’t even realize that had been holding his breath until he let it out. The kid would be fine.

The surgeon escorted Tony to Peter’s room. She quickly explained how he should be out for the next few hours, and that a hefty scar would be left. Tony quickly thanked, and dismissed her. He knew that Peter wouldn’t be out for that long, and that the wound might not even scar at all. Tony has been studying some samples of Peters blood without him knowing. He just wanted to make sure that the kid would be safe. One of the first things he noticed was the rapid regeneration, or rapid healing. This rapid regeneration also meant that drugs would go through his system faster.

Tony was knocked out of his thoughts by the vibrations of his phone. It was a text from May, stating that she should be there shortly. He messaged her back a quick update on the situation and called in s nurse. He quickly told her that a woman by the name of Amat Parker would be arriving soon, and that she is to be sent in here immediately.

The nurse left, accidentally slamming the door behind her, causing Tony to flinch and Peter to stir. He stared intently as the boy opened his eyes. A small groan left his lips as he blinked away the sleepy feeling. Tony grabbed the boy’s hand and tried to appear calm.

“Hey kid, how are you feeling? Can you hear me?” His voice was quiet. He didn’t want to startle Peter and potentially injure him.

“Hmm?” Peter’s response was groggy, but Tony was just happy to see the kid alive.

“I asked how you’re feeling Spider-Boy,” Tony said amusingly.

“It’s Spider-Man… and I’m tired.” Peter mumbled the whole sentence but it was enough for Tony to understand him.

“Your aunt is almost here. She got caught in a ton of traffic, but she should be here any minute.” Tony kept his voice calm and gentle. There would be time for questions later, plus he knew that Peter’s senses could be sensitive right now.

“Okay, wake me when she gets here,” and just like that, he was asleep again.

“Sure thing kid,” Tony whispered.

He gave Peter’s hand one more squeeze before he stood up to leave. He took one last look at Peter, and before he even realized what he was doing, he swept the hair out of the boy’s eyes and presses a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Feel better, son.”

He walks out of the room, content with what just happened. But before he has time to really think about it, a frantic and worried May Parker is running towards him.

“Where is he? Is he okay? What happened?” She spills question after question before Tony can finally calm her down.

“I don’t know exactly what happened,” he began, “but Peter is fine. He was awake for a few minutes just a bit ago, but I decided that question could be saved for later. Best just to let him rest up first.”

May took a deep breath before she spoke, “Okay, but where is he? I need to see my nephew.”

“Right behind this door,” Tony said as he opened Peter’s room for her.

She went running in, immediately grabbing his hand. She heard the door close behind her and foot steps grow gradually smaller. She squeezed her kid’s hand and went to push the hair out of his face, only to find it already pushed back. She blinked, confused about who would do such a loving and familial thing. Then, it clicked. She was just glad that Peter had a father figure to look up to.

[hazandholland]

“I can’t have you get hurt!”

Written by Christina

Category: Just your typical unhealthy mix of fluff and angst.

Word Count: 2942 (don’t judge)

Request (This is our first formal request!) Made by @thecoffeestudyblr : hi can i have a peter parker request where this takes place during the Civil War and the reader is Tony's niece who is super shy and anxious and has a cute crush on Peter and they are friends because of Tony and Peter gets really protective of The Reader during the Civil War when she accidentally gets in the way and Tony finally sees that Peter really likes her and lets them date? 

A/N: So, as usual, I just opened my laptop, cracked my knuckles, and just typed. I haven’t written a fanfic with Tony in it, so I hope I did justice to his witty sense of humor. As usual, if you guys have any feedback or critique, let us know! 

Being Tony Stark’s niece wasn’t easy. People thought that being related to the self-proclaimed genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist would automatically mean you had the luxurious life; massive popularity, spontaneous travels to London during the school year, dating the hottest male models, talking your way out of detention because your uncle made a quick threat about having his lawyers ‘bring all of hell’s fury’ with them, and being friends with the world famous Avengers. Well, unfortunately, only some of that was true. You rarely made spontaneous trips to London because your Uncle Tony was always too busy to join you. Yeah, he said you had the total privilege to take one of his jets anywhere, anytime, but going to a foreign country alone seemed like an anxiety attack waiting to happen. So, that was why you were sitting in the penthouse kitchen at Stark Tower, examining the wobbly trail of a banana while you beat it back and forth between your hands on the counter, bored out of your mind.

“Hey!” A voice exclaimed, causing you to scream and fling the banana at the person who yelled. The person dodged out of the way and flung their hand forward, stretching out their index and pinky fingers while the middle ones curved in. A sticky web-like substance covered your hand and stuck it to the counter. Only one person would do that.

“Peter!” You shrieked, feeling the blood rise to your cheeks as you realized it was your friendly neighborhood dork who startled you. You tried to get your hand unstuck by viciously moving it around, to no avail.

“Oh my gosh!” Peter shouted, running towards you. He barrelled right into you, causing your hips to be crushed between his and the sharp edge of the granite counter.

“Peter!” You shrieked again, in pain and shock.

“You know, when I heard “oh my gosh!” and “peter!” and a thud that sounded like skin on skin, I expected way less clothing than what I’m seeing right now,” A voice said, that somehow sounded bored and amused at the same time. Uncle Tony. He was reaching for a semi-clean mug on the counter, and started making a cup of coffee, seemingly ignoring you and Peter. Your cheeks were on fire. You glanced at Peter, who still had you trapped against the counter. His cheeks were as bright as a fire truck, and he refused to make eye contact with you. He was focused on getting the webbing unstuck from your hand so you could move. You couldn’t help but stare at Peter, the dork you had recently developed feelings for. With your constant nervousness around people, it was hard for you to make friends. But when you met Peter, who had the same problems you did, it automatically connected you two. Unfortunately, Peter didn’t seem to show any signs of liking you more than a friend. He didn’t blush constantly when he was around you, he didn’t stammer like he was always nervous around you, he didn’t ramble on and on about some random scientific phenomenon that he discovered in Uncle Tony’s lab or anything of the sort. Well, he did, but you were pretty sure he didn’t like you.

“Yoohoo,” A finger poked your arm. You started again, staring at the person you poked you. Uncle Tony. “I said ‘get the hydrogen peroxide.’ It gets the webbing off. Oh, by the way, Peter, suit up. I got intel that Cap and his crew are landing in Germany in six hours.” Tony sauntered in front you, holding a steaming cup of coffee. At that same moment, Peter’s senses got revived and he darted toward the lab, which was in the same direction Tony was going. The two geniuses collided, causing Tony’s hot cup of coffee to spill over his vintage AC-DC concert tee and thousand dollar jeans that didn’t look like they were a thousand dollars (you only knew they were a thousand because you went shopping with Tony when he bought them). You gasped and clapped a hand over your mouth, hiding a slight giggle at the adorable look of sheer terror on Peter’s face.

“I-i-i-i-i-i-i-i” Peter’s stammering was so bad, all he could do was say “I” over and over, even when Tony spoke.

“You know, for a kid with that spider sense, you really suck,” Tony gave Peter a partial hard-eyed squint, then a soft-eyed wink at the same time. Tony just put his mug on the counter and strolled away, yelling at FRIDAY to get him some clean pants. As he walked away, he started fiddling with the front of his pants. Right before he rounded the corner, his pants fell, revealing a flash of his boxers before he disappeared.

“Sorry!” Peter shouted. You stared at Peter, finally letting a giggle out.

“Wow, at a complete loss for words there, huh, Spider-ling?” You said, smiling brightly when Peter glared at you when he heard the nickname.

“It’s Spider-Man, and yeah, a little bit,” He admitted, glancing at the floor and blushing, shuffling his feet. You bit your lips and crossed your arms. Well, you tried. Your hand was still webbed to the counter.

“Peter?” You asked. At your voice, Peter instantly looked up, with that wide-eyed, eager look, that made him appear like a little boy.

“Yes?” He answered, making your heart and stomach flip and flop at the sound of his voice. You gulped and tried to keep your cool.

“Can you please get the… um…. Hydra… hydrajean…” You stammered, unable to remember the chemical Tony told Peter to get to release your webbed hand. Peter stood patiently, being as adorable as ever, as you stammered, even more, your stupidity making you even more nervous. “The uh, um…” You tried again but still, couldn’t remember what Tony said. “The stuff Tony asked for,” You finally got out. You sighed in relief, getting a strong feeling that Peter would automatically know what you were talking about. But instead. Peter’s brow crinkled and he started at you blankly.

“I-i’m sorry?” Peter asked, confused.

You sighed and blushed again. “The stuff to get my hand unstuck.” You shook your trapped hand. “The stuff Tony said that would unweb my hand.” Peter’s brows rose and his eyes widened in realization.

“Oh!” Oh, right! The hydrogen peroxide!” Peter said, turning on his heel to dash to the lab. Just as Peter began to leave, FRIDAY’s voice rang over the intercom.

“Mr. Parker,” The AI said, causing Peter to stop. “Mr. Stark says you need to get to the jet for take-off. Captain and his team are nearing the German border.” Peter sighed and glanced at you. You bit your lip again, unsure of what to do. Peter stalked to you. When he reached you, he grabbed the webbing and your hand and pulled. You felt pain as the strong webbing bit into your skin and you gasped a little. Peter got your hand free, but it caused your hand to turn red where the webbing used to be. Peter still held onto your hand, staring at it. You bit your lip, enjoying the contact, but not sure whether to do more or let the moment pass. Peter raised your hand to his lips and give the back of it a quick, soft kiss. He dropped your hand and backed away. You stood there in shock, speechless at the fact that Peter Parker kissed the back of your hand as if you were a princess and he was a prince. Maybe he did like you. No, you shook the thought away. He was way too good for you.

“I have to go,” Peter said, motioning over his shoulder. He started jogging away, pulling his hoodie and t-shirt over his head, revealing his upgraded (and form-fitted) suit covering his torso. Somehow, you got your wits about you again.

“Peter!” You shouted, running after him. Peter didn’t slow but glanced back at you. “I’m coming with you.” You said. At that, Peter stopped, holding his arm in front of you, causing you to collide with it. Gosh, he was muscular.

“No, (Y/N),” Peter said firmly. “You’re not.”

“What do you mean?” You asked. “I’ve always wanted to see Germany. Please, Peter?” You asked, gently pulling on his arm.

“No!” Peter shouted at you. The volume of his voice caused you to back away slightly. “No,” Peter said, softer, and giving you a mix of that strong, heroic look and that innocent little boy look. “I don’t want you to get hurt. (Y/N), I’ll be fighting against Captain America. The Captain America! You’ve seen what he can do! Plus, we have word that he as Wanda, the Scarlet Witch. (Y/N), she has telekinetic powers! She can throw through a wall without breaking a sweat!” You gasped a little and Peter grabbed your arms, and not gently either.

“Please, (Y/N), stay here. I can’t have you get hurt.” Peter looked so scared, at the thought of losing you. But you realized that you can just as easily lose Peter. If you lost him, you had better be with him.

“Can I least stay on the plane?” You begged, causing Peter to sigh in exasperation and hit himself in the forehead with a palm.

“Mr. Parker,” Tony’s voice rang over the intercom. “Get your butt to the jet NOW!” Tony growled. Peter sighed again and wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Coming!” Peter shouted, flinging his other arm forward. He shot a web and he pulled, dragging you with him as the two of you swung towards the jet. “I’m bringing (Y/N), too!” You heard Tony sigh over the intercom.

“Fine, but she stays on the plane,” Tony responded. You smiled, grabbing tighter onto Peter.

You shrieked, throwing your arms over your head. The jet rocked and there was a loud snapping noise. The jet jolted to the side and you shrieked again, landing on your side, a chair base biting into your hip. You moaned and scrambled up, glancing out the small window of the jet. You saw Ant-Man, who was now at least 100 feet tall, holding a jet wing, which had belonged to the jet you were in. Ant-Man swung the jet wing toward your Uncle Tony. You shrieked for the third time and watched as your uncle swerved, barely missing the wing. The wing hit the ground and exploded with a loud boom and a cloud of flames that would make a Hollywood explosives expert thrilled. Just as you sighed in relief, something flew towards Uncle Tony and hit him in the head. You gasped and leaned closer to the window, trying to make sure that nothing horrible had happened to him. You saw Rhodey, towing a Peter who was clad in his amazing new suit, zoom towards Ant-Man. Peter swung from Rhodey to the giant, swinging around Ant-Man’s wrist and landing a solid kick to his jaw. You screamed in triumph, raising your arms in the air. You forgot you were leaning in the window sill of an airplane, so you ended up punching the hard sill with both hands, causing pain to shoot up your arms.

You moaned and rubbed your knuckles. Suddenly, a dark cloud shrouded your window and the jet lurched again, the side buckling inward. You screamed again and fell, landing on the other side of the jet, the seat handles jabbing into your ribs. You groaned, knowing you would have several bruises tomorrow. You tried to sit up, but a seat from the other side had been disconnected and flung toward you. The dislodged seat trapped your leg. You tried to pull it out, but the seat was wedged in the aisle and in the space between the seat you were sprawled on and the seats in front of you. You felt tears well in your eyes at the fear building inside you. The dark, damaged jet. You trapped inside. You felt tears fall down your face as you screamed for help, hoping someone would hear you and come to your aide.

Then you opened your eyes and you were greeted by blinding light. You groaned and raised an arm to shield your eyes. Your muscles screamed in protest and you moaned, dropping your arm. Your hand hit something hard and you felt like someone had shoved a javelin from your fingertips to your shoulder. You choked on a scream and felt tears fall down your cheeks. What was going on? You were on the plane. The plane was dark. Maybe Tony was searching for you. He would have a flashlight.

“Uncle Tony!” You screamed, hoping he would hear you. “I’m right here!” You gasped and began to sob, the fear, confusion, and pain too much for you. Something rubbery gripped your hand and touched your hair. You gasped and tried to swat the thing away, but your body was weak.

“Hey hey hey hey hey,” A soft voice said, gently rubbing the back of your hand. You opened your eyes slightly. You squinted, but let them adjust. You were lying down. In a hospital bed. Someone with red and black gloves was holding your hand. You traced the length of the person’s arm up to their face. You were greeted by the worried look of Peter Parker.

“Peter,” You whispered, closing your eyes again, resting your head on the extremely soft and fluffy pillow.

“It'sa me, a Peter,” The boy said in the worst Italian accent ever. You giggled, but it soon turned into a cough. When you recovered, you felt something hard and smooth on your bottom lip. “It’s water,” Peter said, in his normal voice. You let him tip the glass back as you parted your lips, and took a sip of the cool liquid. You felt Peter take the glass away and heard a gentle clank as he set the glass down.

“You got trapped in the jet,” Peter said, his voice shaking slightly. You took in a breath and squeezed Peter’s hand. He gently squeezed back. “When I took Ant-Man down, he crashed into the jet you were in. I didn’t get to check on you right away, but King T’Challa said he heard someone yelling in the plane. He found you and dragged you out. You were already unconscious.” Peter’s voice broke and his hand shook. You felt more tears trickle down your face. “I thought you were dead. And it would have been my fault.” You felt his soft lips press against the back of your hand again as he sobbed, rubbing your fingers and kissing your hand. You took in deep breaths, crying silently. Peter really cared about you.

“Peter,” You whispered. “You did great. You took down a giant! I mean, how awesome is that?” You said cheerfully, in hopes that he would share the triumph with you.

“Yeah, but I almost lost you,” Peter whispered. He sounded so heartbroken it wrenched your heart into a million pieces. You wanted to comfort him, but you had no idea what to say. You just sighed and squeezed his hand again. You heard your door open with a thud and you jumped.

“(Y/N),” you heard Tony say, “sorry about this. You’ll be fine. Doc says you have a concussion and you’ll be really sore for a while. No fractures, so that’s good. Nothing some weed can’t fix.” You heard your uncle walk around the room, drowning Peter’s sniffling. There was some silence, and you heard someone gulp, probably Peter. You crinkled your brow and tried to open your eyes. The blinding light was too much for you and you had to close them again. You heard a smack and a small groan.

“(Y-Y-Y-/N),” Peter stammered. “W-w-w-w-w-would you l-l-l-l-like t-t-t-o…” Peter had never sounded so nervous in his entire life. By the time he had one word out, you were trying to comprehend it, with your concussion, and you were a word behind in the conversation. There was a long silence and all you got was “(Y/N), would you like to”.

“What?” You asked, embarrassed and frustrated that you couldn’t understand.

“Oh for Pete’s sake!” Tony screamed in exasperation. You covered your ears at the sudden noise. You heard someone say something and stomp out of the room. When there was a moment of silence, you unplugged your ears.

“What was that about?” You asked.

“T-t-t-t-t-tony,” Peter stammered again. You bit your lips, trying to picture is adorable, blushing face as he tried to form his thoughts into words. “Tonywouldlikemetoaskyouout.” Peter somehow said a full sentence, but he said it so fast, it took you an eternity to comprehend what he said.

“Yes,” You said, giggling.

“Y-y-y-y-y-yes, w-w-what?” Peter stuttered.

“Yes, Peter,” You said, smiling wide, “I would love to go out with you.” You could only imagine the little boy grin on Peter’s face as you heard a scrap and someone running out of the room.

“She said yes!” Peter screamed. You laughed uncontrollably at his antics.

“The kid is running up and down the hallway screaming that, by the way,” You heard someone say, in that all-too-familiar dry and amused tone.

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