#tony has the fucking worst nightmares i swear

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

hi there! im wondering if you have any fics recs for an au where peter doesnt get blipped? or also any OP/insanely strong peter fics you enjoy? i’m fairly new to reading spiderman fics and would love any recs! thanks!! 💖

Hi!! Sorry it took so long to respond. It's been a busy couple of weeks!! But I totally have a few BAMF Peter Parker fics in my bookmarks! And one very good fic where neither Tony nor Peter blipped.

🕸 to fear and to fly by idyllic_dae Rated T

“You’ll come to learn that there’s only one thing worse than having nothing.” Trying to hold onto his fight, Peter shoots back, “Yeah? And what’s that?” “To have nothing, after being able to believe you could have everything.”

The streets are dirty, crowded, and the jagged bumps in the asphalt are hardly comfortable to sleep on. They’re home, though.

Peter is just about finished with New York City. It’s gotten impossibly harder to find even a scrap of food, and what little belongings he does have are unlikely to keep him alive through the winter. And the memories. God, the painful memories here.

So he saves up. Makes a plan to get out of there.

Then, somehow, he accidentally saves Tony fucking Stark from a gang of eight mercenaries, and the majestic plan disintegrates into ash.

The worst part about it, he knows, isn’t even that he met Tony. It’s that Tony met him.

^^ This one is incomplete still but it is SO VERY GOOD.

🕸 Trojan Teenager by Sara (ctrsara) @ctrsara Rated T

Tony, Peter, Happy, and Daren make a trip to California during Peter's Spring Break, both to get some business done at SI-Malibu, and to look into another hotspot for the human trafficking ring they've been trying to break down. As it often does when self-sacrificial Spider-kids are involved, things go a little off the rails.

^^ This one is part of a series but can be read alone. However, I highly recommend the whole series! It's crazy creative and super well-written.

🕸 turn back the clock (and I'll try again in the morning) by madasthesea @madasthesea Rated T

Peter gets stuck in a time loop. In it, he lives through some of his worst nightmares, only to wake up that morning and have no one remember. He needs Tony to help him get through.

And if that isn't bad enough, his identity is revealed over and over, every day.

^^ This fic has me on the edge of my seat every time I read it, I swear

🕸 The Worst Field Trip by mak5258 Rated G

Peter's kidnapping (Before You Go, chapter 40) from other POVs.

^^ This is part of a much larger series but can be read alone. It's sooo good! If you're looking for a longer read, it's parent fic, Before You Go , is also great.

🕸Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spider by Bergen Rated T

“Tony fucking Stark,” Clint says, and he points at the black smoke. “Did you blow up that base, you piece of shit?” “Absolutely not. I almost got blown up with it.” Clint is not alone. A few yards behind him, a scrawny figure halts and squints at Tony from underneath a frayed baseball cap. Sunken eyes. Dressed in a black undershirt and cargo pants. Can’t be older than eighteen. “What are you doing here?” Clint jerks his head at the boy behind him. “SHIELD mission. Extracting a hostage.” Tony glances back at the teenager, whose face has now morphed into something entirely impassive. “He seems thrilled about his rescue.” — Tony is roped into a mission to transport a teenager to safety. But when things go south, it soon becomes more and more puzzling who the teenager is and what ‘safety’ means for him.

^^ Oh my goodness. This one has a super strong stoic Peter, who also manages to (eventually) be so super soft. I love everything by the writer, honestly.

🕸 Peter Protection Protocol by JAWorley Rated T

"The hell?" Knife guy breathes. He looks at Tony, and then back at the suit. Ned can hear the wheels spinning in his mind. If I have Iron Man, then who is in the suit?

There’s silence for a second, then another. Everyone waits with baited breath until Peter’s tinny voice comes out of the suit. “Give me back my Tony.”

OR

Peter’s class barely makes it in the door to Stark Industries for their field trip when they find themselves in a hostage situation. Peter and Ned know exactly what they have to do to save Mr. Stark from the bad guys. A short fic that’s supposed to be fun and easy to read. Not crack, just fun. Minor angst near the end.

^^ This author has SO MANY super fun and amazing fics, but this one definitely fits the BAMF Peter Parker bill.

Insane Mistakes Everybody Makes by Fluencca Rated T

The Avengers' kids are kidnapped for leverage and ransom. Tony tries to find them, while Peter--who somehow is part of this mess--tries to keep the kids safe.

^^ Love this one so much. It has all the amazing BAMF Peter.

🕸 Survivor's Guide to The Galaxy by fanfic1892 Rated T

Space rock crunched under Peter’s armor-clad feet and he dropped his hand from his eyes, turning to Tony. "Mister Stark," he said softly. "What do we do now?”

The question was entirely reasonable, Tony supposed, but being the one expected to answer it was like an infinity gauntlet punch to the gut. (Now there was a unit of measurement he could submit to the CGPM.)

Or: In a billion-to-one cosmic fluke, Tony and Peter both survive the snap and are left alone on Titan with an alien spaceship and no plan in sight. Peter’s presence brings Tony to make a tough call: diverting their course away from Earth in search of food and fuel. With the galaxy in shambles and no clear route home, the two survivors must carve out a path of their own somewhere in the great infinity.

^^ This is one of my favorite fics of all time.

As usual, I could go on for days with fics I love and would love to share with others. But we'll stop here for now. lol. And look! I didn't even self-promote this time! Thank you so much for asking. Don't forget to leave kudos and comments!!

[always-andromeda]

“Fast food nation” is not really worth it, trust me. It’s… weird (not in an interesting way). There are Brian scene-packs on youtube that cover all the interesting parts. I mean, it still got me hooked on the character, but only because nasty-oily-Dano is my favourite Dano. My ex boyfriend used to work at McDonald’s, so maybe it’s a real-life-event-turned-into-fiction-kink?

Thanks for the quick answer! If you can’t bite the bullet, I’ll feed it to you: “La Belle Fluer Sauvage” (your choice, free your filthy mind, you always hit the checkpoint), Brian Wilcox.

Again, congrats congrats congrats!

Author's Note | Anon. I am gonna need to thank you but also strangle you for this request /j. I have tried so hard to keep requests simple and sweet for my sanity but I literally could not with this one. This shit is just over 2,300 words and I am not about it. Jesus Christ almighty, I went fucking buck wild here. 🤭 also. i got three requests for Brian. so I made them into like a mini trilogy. this is part two of that trilogy. next part will be out in an hour!!

Warnings | smut (MDNI), unprotected sex, sexual tension, Brian is a gross little greasy freak!!

You waste away your summer job at Mickey's like each day is just another everlasting big burger, all held together with plastic cheese and crammed in a box that's way too small. Meaning, it's all artificial. It's all disgusting and temporary and all a product of capitalism or some shit. That's how you describe yours and Brian's relationship.

His kisses are laced with salt and whatever flavor of energy drink he's fixated on at the moment. You would ask him to remember to brush his teeth in the mornings, but you doubt he'd actually do it. He doesn't like you nearly enough to actually take that into consideration for his morning routine. That's to say he even likes you at all.

Because you rarely get the idea that he does. You get the sense that he likes you as long as you kiss him back when he joins you in the walk-in freezer. As long as you laugh when he makes some corny joke about warming you up. Though nothing has ever gone further than quick makeouts and over the clothes action, you suspect that he wouldn't have any qualms with pulling his dick out right in front of the frozen burger patties.

But as soon as he crosses the imaginary line you've set for yourself, you're humming into his mouth, telling him you're getting cold, and that you don't want Tony to catch you. Then Brian makes some quip about how he thinks it would be fantastic, actually, if Mickey's employee of the month was caught in the walk-in with Mickey's worst employee of every month. You giggle sparingly, hoping that doesn't give him the wrong idea.

Because you want what he wants: fun. At least you hope that's what he wants too. Just a reprieve from the hell that is service work that isn't talking shit about Tony in the break room. And you have to admit, getting Brian flustered with a heated kiss is a bit more of a productive usage of your time.

Which is exactly why you avoid him on this day. Because the last time you made out with him in the walk in, you swear you felt him pop a boner. And you'd drawn your line at much less before. So the second you felt him bulging through his baggy pants and pressing against your abdomen, you were out of there.

Three days later, he's staring at you from inside the kitchen as if you're still blue balling him from where you work the cash register. He averts his eyes when you turn to read him the next order. But you know that when you greet another customer with a chipper, 'Hi, welcome to Mickey's! What can I get for you today?' he's right back to burning holes into the back of your head with his dark eyes.

You try your best to ignore him. Like he's some nightmare you had. Yet, just like a fever dream, he doesn't quite go away. He's right at the edge of your vision, flipping burgers with a bored expression. At least he always smiled when he kissed you. Well...he smirked. And it was annoyingly smug. Whatever. It was still better than the indifference he pretends to embody.

I know your secret, Brian Wilcox. With the pungent fumes of stale oil and a touch of mildew, you popped a boner in the walk-in freezer. Because you kissed me.

The thought liberates you until you clock out for the night. You walk to your car, keys laced between your fingers like your mother had taught you years ago. So when Brian grabs your wrist as you reach for your car door, you whip around, ready to hit him directly in the gut.

"Hey, hey, hey, Jesus--" Brian yells, dropping your wrist quickly and lunging away from your swinging fist, "It's just me...Jesus fucking Christ...were you trying to kill me?"

You hiss, "Were you trying to act like a fucking creep? Fuck, Brian-- It's late. What are you still doing here?" Hand over your chest, your shoulders slump and you eye him wearily, waiting for his excuse.

He doesn't bother apologizing. Just looks at you with his brow furrowed and says like it's the most obvious thing in the world, "I wanted to talk to you."

"About?"

"The other day..."

You sigh and wave him off, "I don't give a shit if Jason steals my chips from the break room, he can go ahead and have them--"

Of course Brian doesn't let you get away that easily, "Oh, fuck off with that. You know what I'm talking about."

"Do we really have to talk about it?"

"I think it's a good idea," he argues.

"Yeah, what a great idea. I kissed you and you're such a pussy that you got hard over it. So glad that I got to relive that. Thanks, Bri." you prepare to turn away from him when he catches your wrist once more.

"That's it?" he searches for an answer you don't want to give. "So...I'm guessing you...didn't like it?"

You snort and your reply comes out less sarcastic than you would've liked, "Oh, I absolutely loved it. When I applied here, I was just praying to get groped by some greasy asshole who can't keep it in his pants."

Brian snickers at your weak tone, "I bet you were."

"Excuse me?"

"Tell me you weren't and I'll leave you alone." he challenged you in a low, even voice that scares the shit out of you. Only it's not because he looms over you, daring you to prove him wrong. It's more the thought of working another day at this fucking restaurant without having his body and quick tongue to get you through it that startles you.

You go deadly silent, opting to stare down at where yours and his rubber soled shoes touch the asphalt.

"That's what I thought." Finally, he seems to understand how hard this is for you to admit to him.

Brian takes a deep breath and tries again, "I didn't think you'd want me either. If that makes you feel any better."

You answer quickly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so…mean.”

"Yes, you did." he insists, "But so did I."

You make tight fists with your hands, pressing your nails into your palms. Sniffing, you ask, "What are we gonna do now?"

Brian kicks one of his feet, tapping the tip of his shoe against yours. "Well...either we can drive home...separately. Or...maybe I could show you the backseat of my car."

A genuine laugh rips from your chest, "Jesus, Brian. Can you not act like you're gonna fucking murder me? If you want to mess around in your car, could you just ask like a normal person?"

His attitude floods his tone ferociously, "Fine, do you wanna fuck me in my backseat?"

The way your clit throbs at that makes you bite the inside of your cheek so hard you taste a tinge of copper. You try not to breathe when you say nonchalantly, "Yeah, sure."

Brian turns, walking a few steps to his car, parked two spaces down from yours. He opens the back passenger side for you in some fucked up, gentlemanly gesture.

"After you," he tilts his head towards the interior and you crawl in, immediately turning to lie on your back on the leather upholstery. When Brian joins you, he barely has enough space in the cramped backseat to perch between your legs. He keeps one hand on the back headrest and the other on the edge of the seat bracing himself there.

Brian hovers over you. That crooked smirk you liked so much is plastered across his pink face as he works at the buttons of your uniform, exposing your bare chest so fast that your skin forgets the feeling of the cool summer air from outside. Your chest rises and falls shallowly with your nervous breath.

Brian says slowly, "I hope you know...I really like it when you forget to put on a bra before coming to work. It's really fucking hot."

"It's not like I do it for your sake," you squeak out a pathetic attempt at a comeback.

"Never said you did, princess."

Oh. Fuck. Right. Off.

He leans in, eyes flickering from yours down to your swollen lips, "Are you gonna keep being snippy? Or are we gonna fuck?"

Please.

You nod fervently and reach for the collar of his uniform.

Brian simply moves back, dodging your grasp, "Come on, princess. I want you to say it. Or else I won't hesitate to leave your stubborn ass back here."

A mixture of anger and embarrassment mixing to form a flush on your cheeks and the tips of your ears, you crane your neck and finally grab his collar, bringing his lips back to yours, "Just fuck me, you asshole."

With a satisfied grin, Brian's lips mold against yours. His mouth open and tongue swiping across yours, you're just as breathless as you are in the walk in. But with his busted air conditioner and the atmosphere of the backseat dampening, not even your unbuttoned shirt could offer any relief from the heat.

Brian pulls away and studies you as you try to catch your breath. Moments pass and he shifts slightly, hovering over your chest. You watch him press his lips together and push out a fat glob of saliva from between them. The spit lands with a wet plop between your tits and you scoff at the humored expression on his face.

That's all before he ducks in again, this time to lick a long stripe up your chest, gathering the saliva on his tongue before wrapping his lips around one of your nipples and sucking. The high pitched moan you let out takes you by surprise as he switches to giving the other attention with a jarringly gentle kiss. He looks up at you through his dark hair with devious eyes. Then the hand bracing itself on the edge of the seat flies to the belt that holds up his pants under the loose fitting uniform.

Brian pulls down his pants and boxers just enough to poke out his solid cock, the tip practically pulsing and purple. He helps you take off your own bottoms, banging his head on the ceiling of his car in the process.

He winces and rubs at the back of his head, "Shit—"

The laugh you let out is cut off sharply when he presses his lips to yours again just to shut you up. But he doesn't just want to stifle your teasing. He also stifles your yelp as he slides himself into your wet cunt, leaving no room for adjustment or romance. He simply fills you out and groans as you tremble and tighten around him.

His lips falter in covering yours and you taste the sweat forming on his upper lip as he struggles to breathe out another moan.

No matter how many pretty sounds he makes for you as you struggle to take all of him without nearly choking on your own dwindling air supply, you tell yourself one thing. Remember, he doesn't actually like you. He likes your mouth and he likes your tits and he likes your pussy. Not. You.

Once he starts moving, you repeat it in your head over and over again every time his skin slaps against yours lewdly.

He doesn't like you. He doesn't like you. He doesn't like you.

You try to picture yourself twenty years from now. A born again Christian soccer mom with four kids, a minivan, and a husband who thinks women can't possibly have orgasms. You imagine a future where Brian is just a bad memory that you tell your friends over wine. That he's the reason why you'd tell your shitty husband to nip at your neck in bed or maybe try a new position. Because when Brian did it, it felt divine. And before you know it, you're circling back around to him.

Fuck. No matter how much rewiring you attempt, it goes back to Brian fucking Wilcox and you wish you could hate it.

You're entangling your fingers in his dark hair and pulling hard. His teeth bite a little deeper into your skin and you gasp at the sting.

"Jesus fucking Christ..." he curses loudly and you feel the full weight of every vulgar syllable reverberating in his throat.

He's good at this and he fucking knows it. You can tell by the way he chuckles slightly when you try to arch your back off of the leather backseat. All you want is to press more of your body against his. For some fucking reason, you need this summer fling to poison you worse than the preservatives Mickey's puts in their food does.

Already, you feel the good kind of chemicals coursing through your veins. Your uniform shirt rises up and the sweat clinging to your skin makes your lower back stick to the leather. And as soon as you peel yourself off of the seat and your chest meets his, you kiss him.

You make him swallow the sounds of arousal that come from deep inside you as his poison takes over all of your senses. Riding out the climax exerts all of your energy and leaves you gritting your teeth through overstimulation. You weakly attempt to clench around him for only a moment before Brian pulls out and jerks himself off a few more times with a tight fist.

Both sets of eyes blown out with lust, you and him watch as his cock twitches and then shoots thick ropes of cum that spill out over your chest, still practically glistening with the streaks his tongue left.

Thoroughly defiled and spent, you don't dare think of anything but his softening cock laying across your abdomen as he dips his head and catches his breath.

Voice now hoarse and thin, Brian says quietly, "Fuck man…I think— I think I really fucking like you..."

[themculibrary]

Crying Masterlist

A Different Kind of Mask (ao3) - aloneintherain N/R, 1k

Summary: “So, you remember the plan, right?” Matt whispered. The sirens in the distance picked up, the sounds of the police officers on foot growing louder.

“You’re blind and I’m just a scared teenager,” Peter said back, nodding. “Got it.”

Age Regression was Impossible... Right? (ao3) - chvotic G, 120k

Summary: He didn't see anything at first, and had been getting ready to turn around and examine the area behind him when he saw it.

Tony had to do a double take when he saw it. Wait, not it, a child. There was a child sitting in the far end of the alleyway, his small frame visible in the shadows. He couldn't be more than two years old, the small body curled up on its side in Tony's direction.

Or, in which, Peter is de-aged and Tony bares the responsibility of looking after him.

All The Stars Align (ao3) - Ashleyparker2815 N/R, 899k

Summary: Peter Parker wakes up in the middle of the night to a call from the hospital saying that his aunt had been in an accident. Peter thinks that he has nothing left in this world but he will always have Tony.

almeno tu nell'universo (ao3) - silkspectred steve/tony E, 114k

Summary: Tony drives off.

Well, he wants to.

But he can’t.

Because.

Steve Rogers is in front of his car.

Steve fucking Rogers. Is in front of Tony’s fucking car.

Big (ao3) - Crockzilla peter/wade E, 14k

Summary: Peter can't stop looking at and thinking about Wade's great big arms and shoulders and hands and back. He's fine. (He's not fine.)

blood-tinted hands (ao3) - DarkKitty1208 G, 1k

Summary: Blood tints his horrifying hands in red and it doesn't matter how many times he tries to wash it away–it's a permanent part of him now.

OR

Post-EG fic exploring Stephen's thoughts, ft. survivor's guilt.

From You I Cannot Hide (ao3) - SailorChibi steve/tony, bucky/natasha M, 66k

Summary: Being a sub isn’t the worst thing in the world. Being a sub who doesn’t like pain, well. That’s just weird. A sub’s sole responsibility in life is to be anything and everything a dom wants, an open canvas for a dom’s brush, malleable and sweet. Obie taught him that, and that fear ultimately tears him and Pepper apart. So Tony hides his dirty secret and doesn’t sub for anyone now. But that doesn’t stop him from wanting.

"I feel safe with you, and only you." (ao3) - gabenabe wanda/natasha N/R, 1k

Summary: After the fight in Budapest, Natasha is still struggling a lot with memories of what Dreykov did to her. She can't escape the horrid flashbacks of the pain she endured because of that monster, she thought she was finally somewhat letting those memories fade away to the back of her mind, but they're back and they hurt a lot. But thankfully, somebody comes to her rescue.

OR; Natasha Romanov is traumatized and lets her vulnerable side be shown in front of Wanda, which leads to a ton of fluff.

If You Want It, Take It (ao3) - Latishiante1001 sam/bucky E, 5k

Summary: Just ‘cause Bucky’s a virgin and is still nervous about being with anyone does not mean that he’s not well educated on being an absolute tease.

"I hate myself, but at least I have you." (ao3) - gabenabe N/R, 1k

Summary: Peter Parker lives a life full of flashbacks, constantly reliving his worst nightmares on a day to day basis. Everyday is getting harder for him to put up with the trauma, the bullying, being belittled from the avengers for being "too young." He seeks for an escape. But that comes with an unexpected comfort and realization.

OR; Peter Parker is depressed and tries to kill himself, but is stopped before he could. He finds out something shocking that he wished he knew months ago.

I Swear That Everything Will Be Just Fine (ao3) - truleedevastating steve/bucky M, 6k

Summary: It's one thing to fuck with the mobster, but it's another thing to fuck with the mobsters' husband.

like it's the only thing i'll ever do (ao3) - howdoyousleep steve/bucky E, 39k

Summary: When Steve opens the door, Bucky feels like he’s been living in clouds for the past few days, maybe even his entire life. Steve is life, Steve is happiness, Steve is the sun. He has such a visceral reaction to seeing the Alpha that he feels his knees go weak, feels his body draw tight towards the other man, pulled in.

Or big Alpha Steve moves into sweet little Omega Bucky's apartment building and a roller-coaster build of a romance ensues.

Nightlight (ao3) - SomeRandomAssGuy G, 1k

Summary: Tony cradled his son to his chest. Adjusting Peter’s position so his ear lay right over his fathers’ heart. To listen to the steady, comforting throb. It was an old, old routine they had fallen into when Peter was still just a baby. So tiny that Tony was afraid of crushing him with one calloused hand.

Proprietary Information (ao3) - notlucy steve/bucky E, 85k

Summary: Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.

Quadrant (ao3) - AvaKelly clint/steve/bucky/sam T, 7k

Summary: In a world where loving someone causes their unique soulmark tattoo to appear on his skin, Clint has been falling for too many people, but never has been loved back. So when he sees his mark on Bucky's shoulder, he can't really believe it.

Return Me Home (ao3) - Alia_JuneBug E, 88k

Summary: Aunt May is dead. One drunk driver and Peter Parker is officially alone in life.

He's too numb to be anything other than resigned when he's placed in a Catholic Home for Boys. And he's not Catholic, but he's pretty sure the Fathers aren't supposed to be as cruel as the ones that run this home.

It's in this hell that Peter befriends the other boys in the care, including one Harley Keener, a sarcastic southener who shares an affinity for science. And so it's not even Peter's fault that he starts to teach the other boys how to code. They asked him to. And so what if the first thing they do is hack into Tony Stark's website. They aren't going to change anything.

Tony Stark is not a father. He never will be a father, and the sooner Pepper admits that the better they all will be.

However on a search for a new design to highlight at one of his charity galas, he stumbles across this random kid's old science project. Some dorky teen named Peter Parker. So naturally he just wants to talk to the kid. That's it. Nothing more.

The Best Revenge (ao3) - SailorChibi T, 24k

Summary: Stephen Strange saves Tony from freezing to death in Siberia. That one action changes everything, much to the horror of one Steve Rogers.

took my love, took it down (ao3) - LaughsAtThunder steve/bucky E, 31k

Summary: The problem, Bucky thinks now that he has most of his memories back, is that his whole entire world has always revolved around Steve Rogers. Steve has been always been half of Bucky’s identity. Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers’ best friend. Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers’ wingman. Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers’ teammate. And now, well, now Steve had other people to fill those positions. And of course, of course he’d always been a little bit in love with Steve. So when he overhears Steve telling Natasha that he’s finally found someone he’d like to date, someone with similar life experience, Bucky clings blindly to the hope that maybe, just maybe, Steve is talking about him.

[micswho]

Tony calling himself necessary monster through Yinsen in his hallucination because he doesn’t want to wake up but he has to always fucks me up

[uselesssomebody]

𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕓𝕪𝕖, 𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕕 - steve rogers x reader

complete masterlist | mcu masterlist | steve rogers masterlist

“𝕚’𝕧𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕒𝕞𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕞

𝕚 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕓𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖”

- i don't want to set the world on fire | the ink spots

words || 𝟙.𝟙𝕜

summary || in which steve gets his priorities straight

a/n || re-watched endgame and have a massive hate boner for what steve did at the end. that, paired with my normal boner for chris evans birthed this fic. enjoy! and request if any one has something. ➵ originally called ‘i don't want to set the world on fire’

warnings || fluff

the sun shone over my eyes as i attempted to keep my focus on the book in front of me. it was a new one, steve must have picked it up in the - well, in the 5 years i apparently hadn’t been here.

god, that’s insane.

being gone for five years - seeing everyone so different. bruce’s change was the oddest - but seeing pepper and morgan had also been shocking. i choked through tony’s funeral, paying homage to nat as well - at least, i tried to get to everybody in the short time since the battle.

i’d found myself, after all this time, sitting right on the bed i’d disappeared - died - at. i’d found it odd - almost as if i’d just woken up from a long nap, but didn’t think too much of it. what was even odder was steve’s frantic voice through my phone - the device jumping and vibrating on our bedside table. i’d picked it up leisurely, assuming he’d been calling to tell me to order some food, or to tell me he’d be back in a bit.

“hello? hello, y/n, are you there?” i blinked a little at the aggressiveness of the question.

“yeah, steve, i am. ‘s everything alright?” i heard him let out a long sigh - still confused as all hell - before he laughed lightly.

“oh, thank fucking god.” i barely heard him swear, so it shocked me - further indicating something was amiss.

“steve, are you good - where are you?”

“i’m on my way, sweetheart. just - talk to me, will ya?” i scrunched my nose.

“talk to you - about what?”

“anything - just needa hear your voice.” i sighed, hesitantly talking about what we could order for dinner when he got back.

he stayed quiet, letting me speak.

he’d explained everything that night. it’d been a week, and i still couldn’t get over it. but, had been standing in front of me - more weary than i’d ever seen him - with some of the worst battle wounds i’d also ever seen.

that told me that he had to be telling the truth. he’d refrained from telling me specifics - especially casualties - for another few days, but finally conceded when i realized he’d avert his gaze every time i mentioned nat or tony.

he was a different man - he’d become a different man over the past few years. but, when he held my hand over the table as we ate dinner, i knew he was still my steve.

he’d left early in the morning, saying that there were just a few more things that he had to do before we put the nightmare behind us. i’d asked - repeatedly - to come, but he’d said no every single time. he’d sighed softly as i kissed him goodbye, muttering a worrying amount of ‘i love you’s in my ear as he left.

and, just like that, i was back to worrying about him instead of reading my book. deciding the endeavor was fruitless, i started weighing my options as to how to pass the time, when i heard the front door click open once more.

i walk towards the door slowly, and - he looks tired. other than that - i distinctly remembered him leaving the house with his shield. he had returned empty handed. i stopped my pondering as his eyes finally met mine, and he softly smiled. i sighed softly - my mind had conjured all sorts of worrying scenarios - but, here he was. in one piece. i let myself fall into his chest as his arms collapsed around my back. we stayed there for a moment, before i broke away.

“you scared me.” his smile widened.

“i’m good at that.” i laughed a little, walking inside as he followed.

the evening was normal, save for a solemness that steve tried to hide every time i talked to him.

i finally cornered him on the couch after dinner, climbing onto the cushions beside him.

“steve?” he hummed in response, running his fingers through my hair absentmindedly, “where’d you leave that shield?” his fingers tensed in my hair, and i turned to look up at him.

“what’re you talking about?”

“i know something’s bothering you. and i know you didn’t come back with that shield. what’s got great, big captain america so riled up?” i say the last bit teasingly, poking him lightly in the chest.

“no - i…” he started speaking, but stopped just as quickly, “i’m not captain america anymore.” the confession made my eyes widen.

for all the time we’d been together - the captain america that steve represented had been key part of his life, one that took priority over everything else.

at least, that’s what i thought.

“you - you what?” he sighed deeply, adjusting us so we were facing each other on the couch.

“i’ve done my service, sweetheart. i couldn’t do it forever.” i nodded slowly.

“but,” i tried to be soft, non-judgmental. i wasn’t judging him at all, really, just genuinely curious, “i thought you were captain america. and he was you.” he sighed.

“no - well, he was. god, there was a time where i was nothing without that shield. but, now - i think i realized something.” i stay quiet, prompting him to continue, “i was living for so much more than that shield. and i was neglecting everything else because of it. i guess, i had to lose my everything to realize she meant so much more to me than it.” i’m nodding along, until the last bit. i try to process it, before my mouth falls. i look up, and he’s got a shy smile on his face, “i lost you. and i realized that i needed you more than anything. that would’ve never been the case with the shield, so…” he trails off, and i’m still looking at him in shock. i’m torn between wanting to tackle him into an embrace, or berate him for his priorities. i finally found my voice.

“don’t tell me america’s lost its protector because of…” i didn’t want to say it, but his smile only widened.

“don’t worry, i’m sure sam’ll be a great protector.” i let out a sigh of relief, knowing that the mantle still existed and was with someone competent.

then, i tackled him.

he grunted in shock as we fell to one end of the couch, his head in my hands as i peppered small kisses onto him.

“i love you.” i mumble into his skin. he smiles against mine.

“i love you, too.” i finally rise above him, seeing the soft, happy look on his features.

“you’re so sappy, y’know.” my finger pokes at his chest, before he takes my hand and places another kiss to my palm.

“you love it.”

a/n || okay putting this at the beginning kinda spoils it but for those confused:

this is an au where the only difference from endgame is that steve returns as normal steve after returning the stones, but still gives up the shield. steve's time with peggy and returning as an old man has been rewritten.

[elliaze]

When I lost you forever

A/N: This is my first one shot here, and since my greatest love is Marvel, I had to write something in this fandom. Forgive me for my English, it's my second language. Originally the main character's name was Grace, but I changed it to Y/N. So you can choose how to read.

Pairings: Tony Stark x sister!Stark, but Tony’s not here

Warnings: angst, few swears

Summary: Four times when Y/N almost lost Tony forever and one when it actually happened.

Word Count: 1600

MASTERLIST

First it was Afghanistan.

Then New York.

Sokovia.

His flight into space.

And finally, the cursed Infinity Stones that took his life.

I. Where she drank herself into unconsciousness

Y/N would never have even thought that she could lose her brother. His absence from her life was as improbable as the fact that their parents could suddenly come to life. But fate was unpredictable, otherwise she wouldn't be in their home laboratory with another bottle of alcohol and being on the verge of unconsciousness, wondering how much she should drink to completely forget what had happened.

It was all like a worst nightmare from which she could not wake up. Even her nightmares seemed like nothing compared to what she was experiencing at that moment.

The door to the lab opened with a quiet sound, and Pepper walked in.

“Hey,” the blonde said uncertainly. “I was just passing by and thought I'd stop to check on you.”

Y/N did not answer. She acted as if she hadn't noticed at all that she was no longer alone. When she lifted her misty and absent-minded gaze upwards, she was not sure if her friend was real or she was just an illusion of her sick mind.

“I brought something to eat,” Pepper said again. “Italian cuisine, one of your favorites. Remember, you have to eat something, Tony wouldn't want…”

“Tony is not here” Y/N answered unexpectedly. Her voice was cool and hoarse, although it was hard to tell whether this was the result of hours of silence or drink. “I appreciate your concern, but I could care less about eating or functioning at all if I don't get my brother back.”

“He will come back. I'm sure of it.”

“Today it's been two weeks since his abduction, and there's still no word on his whereabouts. The longer they search for him, the less chance there is that he is still alive.”

“Don't think like that” Pepper walked over to her friend and put hand on her shoulder. “He's alive, Y/N. After all, you always say that nothing is impossible for him.”

And indeed there was not.

Or at least, she believed it when a few weeks later she could see him again and hold him in her arms.

II. Where time stopped

Y/N felt her whole world stop the moment Tony disappeared into the portal. She didn't know what was going on, and the sounds of battle suddenly fell silent, as if she hadn't been in a war with aliens at all a few minutes before. All she could do was stare up at the sky, hoping that in a moment, in a second, her brother would fly back and return to Earth.

She knew all too well the feeling of losing him. Memories of the emptiness from a few years ago are still fresh, as if he had been kidnapped just a few days ago. She couldn't imagine experiencing something like that again. She couldn't accept the fact that Tony had actually decided to go on a suicide mission himself. She wasn't going to accept that with his likely death, she would be left completely alone in this world.

No, as long as she believed in her brother, that was how she knew he had a chance.

“Close the portal, Romanoff,” Rogers ordered, and Y/N screamed loudly as she watched the hole in the sky closing.

“No!” She screamed in despair and immediately threw her fists at the Captain. “He still has a chance to come back! Romanoff, if you do it, I swear to all the gods I know, I will kill you as soon as you come down from that cursed fucking tower!”

She tightened her fingers on his costume, wanted to shake him, convince him that he couldn't condemn her brother to death, but instead she felt his strong arms around her. Rogers tried to reassure her, but nothing was getting through to her distraught mind. Y/N cry into the Captain shoulder as she watched the energy beam and portal completely disappear from the sky. The thought that no one had tried to help her brother, and that she herself had been prevented from doing so, tore her heart.

She couldn't even imagine a world without Tony, let alone actually live with such an awareness.

That day, she didn't have to find out at all.

Tony had not let his sister down, only reassuring her that nothing was impossible for him and that he was capable of surviving even the most suicidal mission.

Even if by doing so he was driving Y/N to the brink of total breakdown.

III. Where she had no idea about his sacrifice

That day during the fight in Sokovia, where she herself had nearly lost her life, she had little idea that Tony had once again put himself at risk.

In a way, she was grateful to Ultron for hurting her.

At least she didn't have to watch her own brother take on a dangerous task again and drive her to despair.

IV. Where she searched for him

No battle made her as horrified as the one in Wakanda. She could not understand how a few gems had made half of humanity disappear. She felt as if she was stuck in some dream from which she could not awaken. As much as she suffered from the loss of friends and allies, there was only one person she worried about.

Tony.

She couldn't get over the fact that she wasn't with him now. As long as he was still alive. Y/N shook her head. She was too fierce, maybe even desperate, to believe that her brother could have died in the far reaches of space.

Rocket cursed loudly as the system once again alerted to an error.

“What's going on?” Y/N looked at her new ally, but quickly shifted her gaze to the computer screens. “How is it possible that there are still no matches?”

“Maybe it's because we're based on Earth technology, but we're trying to connect to space technology?” Rocket growled.

If the situation were completely different, Y/N would have started arguing with the raccoon long ago. But at the moment they were both all too aware that they needed each other far more than they might have suspected.

“Let's change the parameters and reprogram the satellite.”

“We've done this before”

“Apparently it’s not enough!”

“I'm a genius, Stark, but even I'm starting to have a problem with this.”

“That's not an option, Rocket!” She called out loudly, clasping her hands tightly. “We have to find him. Find them all, including your team.”

“The probability of them meeting is really low.”

“You said that they wanted to get Thanos, and he told me exactly that he fought my brother on Titan. They must have met there.”

Rocket sighed heavily, but didn't answer right away. Y/N stared at the screens, but the longer she did it, she only felt even more rage and uncertainty. She pretended that she was brave and strong and hadn't completely broken down, but knew that she was extremely close to that.

Especially she had never before felt as powerless as she did at that moment.

“We can try if the signal we send will be strong enough to reach Titan and track your technology,” Rocket suggested, and Y/N immediately agreed.

It wasn't their efforts or her belief in miracles that brought Tony back home.

Y/N had never felt as grateful to anyone in her entire life as she did to Danvers when she brought her brother back to his loved ones.

It wasn't the first time she had thought she was losing him forever.

However, of them all, this was the most terrifying.

V. Where she lost him forever

She felt as if she had jumped into deep water and could not get out of it. She fell and fell, slowly losing her ability to function at all. The dark abyss was taking her last moments of life, filling her heart and mind with total emptiness. She opened her mouth, but oxygen was not reaching it at all.

She was losing consciousness. Everything lost its meaning.

But she was still alive, even though she did not understand it. She was sinking deeper and deeper into the pain and she knew there was only one person who could pull her out.

Tony.

But he was gone, and with his death, all possibilities for her to be fully happy disappeared.

Never, not even in her most horrible nightmares would she be able to come to terms with his death. Facing it in the real world was worse than a nightmare. In dreams she could wake up every time and find out that everything had been her imagination.

Now she had not even that.

And yet, she still had to function. To get up every day and face the world without her brother beside her.

She had someone to live for, that was for sure. She would give anything just to make her family and friends happy.

But she couldn't accept that this one time she couldn't sacrifice her life instead of her brother.

“The impossible does exist though, eh Tony?” She whispered softly and placed her hand on the cold tombstone.

She smiled sadly and walked away, not looking back.

Y/N was going to come back here tomorrow anyway.

[deliontower]

another you | s.l

title: another you

pairing: sylvie x reader (ft loki)

summary: Sylvie shares some information about her past, a past you fit into too.

warnings: swearing, angst, some bickering with Loki and fluff

word count: 1k

a/n: I love Sylvie and can't bear to lose her so expect more stuff with her. has been edited but likely missed something (its 3am i should be asleep rn)

MAIN MASTERLIST | REQUEST OPEN

Breathless you ran over the rocky landscape with Loki and the Loki variant. This was not what you imagine yourself doing, you just had to try and get the tesseract from Loki. For all the thing that could have happened you didn’t think being taken by the TVA was one of them.

Now dodging meteoroids trying to get to an old mining hut was your only chance of survival. “Of all your idiotic plans Loki this really takes the biscuit” you yell, looking at Loki as you ran.

He exhaled annoyed.

“I mean seriously” you hit his shoulder once you were inside the hut. “Maybe pick a fucking volcano next time”.

He scoffed, “do you have any other suggestions, avenger?”.

You square your shoulders annoyed. “You keep throwing at word around like it’s an insult. Well me let you something-“.

“Would you two grow up. For gods sake”.

You turned to see the Loki variant looking at you, until this moment you had been so mad at Loki you had forgotten she was even here.

You held the bridge of your nose, “I’m sorry he makes me want to throw him out of a window”.

“If he didn’t have the tempad then I’d let you” she smirked.

You laughed.

“Great a coup” Loki muttered.

You turned to Loki, “It’s only a coup if you don’t know about it, I made my feeling very clear”.

“Odin’s beard. You’re just as maddening as I remember” he sighed turning away.

“I think it’s charming” The Variant smiled as she leant against the wall.

“Why thank you” you smiled back.

“This is my worst nightmare. A Loki and a y/n flirting” he sighed dramatically.

You tutted. “There is no need to be jealous”.

You and Loki carried on arguing, too busy to noticed the way Variant Loki was staring at you.

-x-

Hours later you had worked out a plan that would recharge the tempad. You had also learnt that the Loki variant was called Sylvie, you wouldn’t say she was the same as Loki but she was definitely a Loki.

You sat in the middle of Loki and Sylvie as the train started. Zoning out as the two fought, you sighed before downing a whole glass of champagne. “eww”. The two paused and looked at you, “This stuff is terrible”.

“Too used to Tony Stark’s finest are you avenger” Loki laughed.

You laughed scarcely. You climbed over the table and made your way to the bar.

“The two of you don’t get along well”.

You turned to find Sylvie behind you. “You can say that again”. You shook your head then laughed. “We used to get on great but he’s going through his rebellion phase”.

“You did?” she whispered, shocking you.

“Yeah” you smiled, “I’d say he was my best friend once”.

She swallowed.

“Are you alright, Sylvie?” you asked, reaching out to rest your hand on her arm. She jumped at the impact. “I know we don’t know each other but I’m here”.

She was quiet, a way you hadn’t seen her be quiet before. It made your stomach turn. You realized you didn’t liked seeing her this way. It felt wrong.

“Sylvie-“ you said more quietly so only she could hear.

“I knew you, well a you on Asgard growing up” she looked up from the floor and met your eyes.

“You did” you couldn’t help but smile, you wished you could have known her as child.

“I always wondered what happened to her” she murmured looking sad.

You wished you could help her somehow, tell her everything you could about the other you but you didn’t know them.

“I would tell you about myself but I don’t think we would be very similar” you smile sadly.

She grinned, “I don’t know. The way you talk to Loki remains me of how you’d bicker with Thor”.

You laughed, “Was he the annoying golden child for you too?”.

“You wouldn’t believe it” she laughed too.

After you both stopped laughing, Sylvie looked to Loki who was enjoying himself drinking, “Did anything ever happen between you and him?”.

You chocked on you drink then laughed. “Gods no, like I said he’s, my friend. Gods know why when he acts like an ass”, You looked over at Loki too making sure he wasn’t listening. “He’s mad and he’s hurt. I can’t blame him for that”.

“You understand us Lokis very well”.

You smirked, “Thought you didn’t like to be called a Loki”.

She pulled a tired face but you could tell she was joking, “I don’t but it doesn’t chance the fact that I am one”.

You noticed how close you were to her, what shocked you more was that you didn’t mind.

“If we make it out of this alive with should actually get to know each other” she said.

You opened and shut your month before you could speak.

“What?” she raised an eyebrow.

You held her hand leading her to a free seat, “We have a whole train ride”, you guided her hands up to your temples, “You can see whatever you want”.

“You trust me just to look through your head?” she asked unsure.

“I do”.

You saw what she saw. You growing up on Asgard, a child you turning into a grown up you running through the field until your chest burnt, then lying in the grass until the sunset. Then to you working with the avengers, all the good and bad things you did. And all you had lost when Thanos snapped, the five years you spent alone and everything that brought you where you were with Sylvie.

You open your eyes and she was staring at you, looking over every detail for your face. “Now you know me better than anyone” you smiled dizzily, searching her face too. Everything around you had gone out of forces, the only thing you could forces on was Sylvie.

“I think I should return the favour” she whispered taking your hands in hers.

[holylulusworld]

Silent

Summary: People think you talk too much so you fall silent.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader, Avengers x Reader (platonic)

Characters: Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers

Warnings: angst, self-doubts, the reader used to talk too much and now she’s silent, mentions of torture/imprisonment/experiments, comforting, fluff

“Does she always have to talk so much? I can’t believe someone can hold a speech over pancakes. Is she never tired of hearing her own voice?” Standing in the doorframe of the common room you clasp one hand over your mouth.

You believed Bucky enjoyed your conversations. Since he moved in two months ago you tried to be a friend, a companion he can talk to when Steve is not around.

Never in your worst nightmares would you have imagined Bucky could be annoyed by your small talk.

“Listen, Buck. She likes to talk about a things, maybe explains too much but that’s part of her personality.” Clint chuckles at Sam's words.

“You mean she can chew your ear off about her latest shopping trip.”

“Barton, that’s not funny. Y/N tried to explain how credit cards and electronic article surveillance work to him. Last time he went shopping he got lost, didn’t know how to pay.” Sam throws in. “Maybe it was a long conversation, but Y/N meant well.”

“I know, Sam.” Clint sighs. “Sometimes she just won’t stop. I had to fake to go to the restrooms last time.”

“Guys, seriously. Stop talking shit! Y/N is not talking too much. Only as men tend to only grunt or throw ten words per day at each other doesn’t mean a girl talks too much.”

Natasha slams her fist onto the kitchen counter. “She’s kind, nice, and smart. All Y/N tried was to help Barnes.”

“Exactly.” Wanda purses her lips, glaring at Clint. She’s challenging the archer. Daring him to say another word about you. “Now back to breakfast. Who’s on duty?”

No one recognized you entered and left the room after Wanda started to make breakfast for everyone…

“Did you finish the latest report?” Tony’s question brings you out of your thoughts. He’s looking at you, assuming you will tell him every little detail but all you do is nod before you hand him a manila folder. “No explanations?”

“We were all there, I wrote nothing not everyone witnessed. Report ending.” Steve cocks a brow at your short answer. Usually, you mention details but today, you barely spoke twenty words.

Natasha watches you cautiously while Clint leans back, enjoying you didn’t ask questions or explained things he already knew.

“Okay. Great, Y/N. Next point, our yearly charity gala is due in a week. I hope everyone bought a nice dress and for gents, a nice suit.” All eyes land on you.

Normally you describe your new dress, the shoes, even your hairstyle, but again, you simply nod.

“Got a dress. Mission accomplished.” Now Wanda searches your face but you block her powers, giving her a shake of your head. “If that’s all, I got places to be.”

“Don’t we have another report from you and …” Tony trails off when you get up. “Y/N?”

“Everything you need to know is in the folder. If you have questions, ask Jarvis.” Taken aback Tony nods, glancing at the folder you push against his chest.

“Something wrong, darling?” Giving Tony a cracked smile you shake your head.

He doesn’t need to know what you heard. You know, as the person bringing you into the team, Tony sees you as his little sister and would do anything to make you feel comfortable.

“I am great, Tons, don’t worry. I’ll check on a few files at my office if you need anything.” When you walk toward the door you feel eight pairs of eyes follow you. “I won’t make it to the movie night, though. Have fun.”

You are gone before Tony can ask you again if anything is wrong. “What was that? Usually, she won’t go without explaining every detail.” Tony’s eyes meet Steve’s but he’s as clueless as Tony.

“I don’t know. I was on a mission with Bruce and Maria.” Steve looks around the room, tries to make out if anyone knows anything. “Anyone knows what’s wrong with Y/N?”

“I got no clue, Steve. A few days ago, we talked for hours but over the last days Y/N barely said ten words. Her answers are always short, precise.” Natasha looks at Wanda who tries to avoid eye contact.

“Wanda?” Sam’s brows furrow when the redhead tries to sneak out of the room. “What do you know?”

“I know nothing, I swear. I…I recognized Y/N is different for a few days and tried to look into her…head.” Shrugging Wanda tries to explain why she wanted to break her own rule to never read her teammate's minds.

“She blocked me for the first time during our meeting. All I could see or rather feel was hurting and then she pushed me out.”

“Crap, Cap. Any ideas?” Steve sighs when everyone looks at him.

“Not to rhyme badly would be a start, Sam.” Sam glares at Clint who tried to lighten the mood with a joke. “Sorry, go ahead…”

“I will try to talk to Y/N. Something must be wrong as she’s always bubbly and friendly. Today, Y/N was a different person and I do not like it one bit.” Tony exclaims. “Maybe Barnes could talk to her? She seems to like him.”

“Me?” Bucky coughs, tries to not get involved in anything involving conversations. “Why? I am not good at talking to people. Steve is your man.”

“Buck, she talked to you for hours. Y/N tried to make you feel welcome and help you at the same time. I know she sometimes talks a bit too much but…”

Natasha gasps at Steve’s words. Her eyes meet Wanda’s and they suddenly know why you refuse to talk to your friends.

“Fuck…fuck…fuck, Sam!” Now Sam slams his fist onto the table, glaring at Clint.

“She heard what you said that morning! This is your fucking fault, Barnes!” Raising his hands in surrender Clint tries to stay out of the conflict.

“Don’t act innocently, Barton! You said she talks too much!” Wanda grabs Clint’s ear, tugging harshly. “You’ll apologize, both!”

“You said what and she heard…” Steve clears his throat before he gets up to glare at his friend.

“I know you are not much of a talker Buck, but she tries so hard to talk to you. Y/N only offered her friendship and you just messed everything up.”

“Let me talk to her, Capsicle. I don’t think she wants to see Barton or Barnes for a while. At least around me, she can talk as much as she wants to.” Tony sighs deeply. “Do you know why she’s talking so much?”

“No.” Bucky snaps at Tony. “As she likes to do so?”

“I found her, in a cell during a mission years ago. Our fine government wanted to create a super-soldier like Steve and you. They took blood samples, DNA. All this time, she was not allowed to talk or ask questions. If she did, they hurt her.”

Bucky feels like someone just pushed a knife into his guts.

“They electrocuted her, hit her, did awful things. When I found her, she wouldn’t talk. I thought she’s mute. It took months before I heard the first word leave her lips. I nearly got a heart attack when she called my name.”

“I…” Jumping up, nearly breaking his chair Bucky stumbles toward the door. “I got to talk to her. I need to apologize and all…”

“Doll?” Bucky enters your office. Head hung low, eyes not daring to meet yours he sighs deeply. “’m so sorry, darling.”

“Can I help you with anything, Sergeant?” Your eyes are glued to your monitor when Bucky walks toward your desk.

Normally you would jump up, drag him toward the cozy couch in the corner and tell him about your day, or ask him about his.

“I came to apologize for what I said. I…I am so sorry, Y/N.” When you meet his gaze Bucky can see your red eyes. You must’ve cried the whole time you spend in your office. “You can talk as much as you want to, doll.”

“I will shorten my conversations from now on. It’s unnecessary to tell you about my day, clothes, or stupid cat videos on YouTube. I know that.” Bucky grasps for your hand, kissing it repeatedly.

One moment he kisses the back of your hand and the next he picks you up to carry you toward the couch, making you yelp.

“No…no, doll. I like those videos. That one with the cat hunting the hedgehog was hilarious. That furry guy even tried to jump on the hedgehogs back.”

Giggling you look at Bucky. “Tell me about the next thing I should check on YouTube.”

“Dude, there was this guy, taping his eyebrows and then…” Looking at you in his arms Bucky hums while you tell him about the guy ruining his eyebrows.

“So, that poor guy has no eyebrows. Tragic.” You snicker at Bucky’s words before you hide your face in his chest.

“What about new cat videos or, this is even more important, tell me about the dress you’ll wear to the charity event.”

“It’s a black Chanel dress, backless and I like it. Don’t tell anyone, but it’s second-hand.” Whispering the words, you poke your finger into Bucky’s chest. “Swear to not tell anyone.”

“I’ll swear to not tell anyone if you agree to be my plus one. I need someone to save me from anyone asking me how it was to be the winter soldier.” Your hand gently pats his cheek, caress the scruffy skin before you move closer to press a soft kiss to his chin.

“Doll, if you tried to kiss me, mission failed, but points for trying. Let me show you how it’s done.” Stunned you feel Bucky’s lips on yours.

He swipes his tongue over the roof of your mouth, and you giggle again. “No laughing! That was a perfect kiss!”

“It was an eight, Bucky but we can try again.” He smirks before his lips are back on yours. This time he devours your mouth and you need to break the kiss to breathe.

“Better. I would say eight point five this time. We are getting closer, Barnes. How about we practice some more?”

“Will you forgive me for being a douche? I want you to talk as much as you want to. Maybe we can go to my room and talk some more.” There is a cheeky smile on his lips when you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Only talking, Sergeant Barnes. I am a good girl…”

“Yeah?” His breathing quickens when you look up at him in awe. “I will make it up to you. Every stupid word I said, doll.

How about we have our private movie night at my room and you can tell me anything about the movie before we even watched it.”

“Deal…”

“Please, never be silent again, Y/N. I hate silence when it involves you not talking.”

Snuggled into a warm blanket. Your head resting onto Bucky’s chest you snore lightly. You didn’t make it through the movie before you fell asleep.

The room is silent. You are not talking but right now, Bucky’s heart swells as you repeatedly muttered his name in your sleep.

“Love you too, doll…”

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@midnightsilver16830​​​

@rvgrsbrns​​​

@fandom-princess-forevermore​​​

@amandamdiehl​​​

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Bucky Barnes/Sebastian Stan Tags

@rynabarnesrogers​​

@marshyrebelcloud​​​​

@buchanan-lover​​​

@rosalynshields​​

[laurie-stark]

Get up and get out

Summary: Sort of part two to Unwanted. A year after fighting in Germany, y/n has to deal with the insufferable Peter Parker being around the house all the time. 

Pairings: Peter Parker x stark!reader, tony stark x daughter!reader, Natasha Romanoff x daughter!reader. 

Warnings: swearing, angst? i guess? mentions of blood. mentions of panic nightmares 

A/N: Again, I want to make it very clear so there isn’t any confusion: Y/n is Tony’s biological child, however, being raised also by Natasha, Steve and Pepper, she calls them Muma, Pops and Mom. Hopefully that makes sense LOL oh and also i’ve never written like...kiss scenes before so just go with it okay?

He was here again. Third time this week that he has come barging into my home and taken over my training center. Okay, to be fair, it was not my training center but still. Peter Parker will never stop being a pain in my ass. Ever since that stupid trip to Germany, he has been coming over and training for hours, or working with Dad. Three times just this week I’ve had to endure listening to Peter talk with his stupid little voice and walk around my house like he owns the place. Who does he think he is? And every time I have to sit through another dinner of Dad blabbing on and on about what a miraculous boy he is.

               “Really y/n, I think you two would be great friends,” I rolled my eyes as I picked at my dinner. The rest of the family ate in silence around the table. The last thing I wanted to do is spend more time with stupid Spider-boy. On the afternoons when he was here, I tried my best to stay out of his way. I would stay on my floor and he stays on his. Simple. I don’t need a new friend.

“…And he’s coming by again tomorrow, so I was thinking of showing him A.P.R.I.L. if you wanted to join us-” Dad continued.

What the hell? I thought. “No!” I snapped. “No way. A.P.R.I.L. is mine, I don’t want him messing with her.” Dad frowned at me. The rest of the table looked up in my direction. My shoulders tensed up as I faced my father. A.P.R.I.L. is my baby and I was ready to go toe to toe with him if I needed too.

“What do you mean no? I thought you’d be excited to share that with him,” he started.

“Well I’m not, so back off,” I sneered. The shift in his expression made me want to bite my own tongue. “Please.”

“I seriously do not understand what your problem is. You’ve been complaining for years how there’s only adults but the second a kid your age comes by you’re all “oooh no don’t talk to me Peter!””

I scoffed. “Sorry, I guess I just don’t want to bother you and your new best friend.”

“There it is. Why are you so jealous of him? He’s not that cool. He hasn’t made a fully functioning A.I at the age of 15. He just spits sticky stuff out of his fingers. Honestly y/n, you’re making zero sense right now.”

“Whatever, I’m over this,” I said, pushing my chair back from the table. I grabbed my untouched dinner plate and headed towards the kitchen. “I’m not hungry. And don’t show him A.P.R.I.L., I mean it!” I dumped my plate in the sink and marched right down the hall towards the elevators. My dad was right. I wasn’t making any sense. Ever since I made A.P.R.I.L I’ve used every excuse I could find to shove her down people’s throats. Anyone who would listen to me, I would tell them. Tell them all about how I programmed her to have realistic personality. How she’s running through the walls of this place, through my room, even inside the bracelet I never take off. All I knew is that I didn’t want Peter Parker anywhere near her.

I shut the door to my hard, and flopped onto my bed. A.P.R.I.L. reminded me that slamming the doors usually results in a punishment. I acknowledged her with a half-hearted grunt. I started programming A.P.R.I.L. when I was thirteen. Or rather, reprogrammed. A.P.R.I.L. was made from an older prototype version of F.R.I.D.A.Y. The base stuff was already there, I just moved some things here, recoded there until she was perfect. I don’t know why I got so defensive about Peter meeting her. Or why I had to pick another fight with my dad.

It was easier these days. To fight him, I mean. I suppose I never got over the whole “Peter is better, I choose him over you, blah, blah” thing as much as I thought I did. So, I would pick fights. Fighting over Peter was the simplest way to go, considering he was the reason I was so angry in the first place. Sometimes we would fight over him, other times we would fight over silly things. Like how I keep forgetting not to put my coffee grounds in the garbage disposal. Most of the time it was all just bickering that would blow over in thirty minutes, give or take. Sometimes it was explosive, like today.  I took in a shaky breath and sprawled out across my sheets. Sometimes this family is a fucking nightmare.

Dad didn’t come by this time. It threw me off for a second because he always comes by. Even if it’s six hours later and neither of us should be awake, he still comes by with a box of milk duds that we share in silence before one of us apologizes first. That’s how we work. When it finally sunk in that he was not planning on coming, I put A.P.R.I.L. on the job. I figured perhaps he left the compound, maybe took Mom for a nighttime stroll.

“Your father is on floor B, Miss Stark,” A.P.R.I.L. informed me.

“Jesus A.P.R.I.L., how many times have I said to cut the formalities,” I muttered.

“My apologies, y/n.”

Floor B. What the hell is he doing on floor B at…12:00 in the morning? Floor B is strictly for members of household and other Avengers. There are a billion different training rooms down there. Weight rooms, boxing, a huge pool, stuff like that. Not to taint his image, but I can safely say the last time my father willingly worked out for fun was probably before I was even born. Why was he down there? Unless…

“A.P.R.I.L. who else is on floor B right now?” I asked. “Throw it on the hologram, would you dear?

The sounds of the hologram starting filled the room. A.P.R.I.L. pulled up the security map of floor B, like I’d asked. There was my dad, floor B in the boxing room of all places. Pops and Sam looked to be going at it in another one of the combat training rooms. My confusion only rose when another nametag popped up on the screen. My brows furrowed.

Peter Parker

What was he doing here? Why was he boxing? Why was he not in his own home at midnight on a Thursday? My mind was spinning with questions. A knock at my door startled me.

“Come in…”

Natasha popped her head through the doorway. “Hey there…whatcha doing kid?”

I swiftly swiped away the hologram screen and sat up straight. “Nothing. What’s up?”

“Well, we’re getting a little worried about you,” she said. We being everyone else at the table who had to witness my brawl with Dad. She sat down beside me. “You haven’t fought back like that in a long time and I’ve noticed you’re fighting with him a lot recently. You want to tell me what that’s all about?”

I wanted too. God, I wanted too. I hadn’t told anyone what my father said to me that day after the airport, not even my mom. But it didn’t matter. I’d get over it sooner or later, so there was no point troubling anyone else with my problems…right? My eyes started to well up but I blinked away the tears. “No. Everything’s fine,” I put on a smile.

Natasha tucked me in under her arm. “Okay then. Maybe tomorrow.” That was Muma for you. She never pushed me to talk but knew I would come around at some point. In the meantime, she just held me. I cried into her embrace. She let me cry into her shoulder for a long while, until I was empty. After a time, I let go and she got up, giving me a kiss on the head before wishing me a good night.

I rubbed my hands over my face, brushing off any remaining tears. “A.P.R.I.L. bring the hologram back up please.”

“Are you sure y/n?”

…

“Yeah.”

Peter was still in the boxing room but my father was not. Upon further digging, I found the nametag reading Tony Stark on my floor. He’d gone to bed. I pondered to myself as to whether or not I should venture downstairs. What is the worst thing that could happen? Peter is secretly a Hydra spy and kills me? No, I shook my head. Don’t be ridiculous. Another minute passed and I’d made up my mind.

“A.P.R.I.L. engage “I am definitely here”,” I commanded.

“”I am definitely here” protocol engaged. Volume minimized to 5% and your tracking tag will be pinned to this room,” A.P.R.I.L. responded. “Good luck on your mission small agent.”

“Oh shut up,” I chided. I closed the door to my room as softly as I could. It was nearly one in the morning, most of the hall would be asleep. Or at least they should be. The hallway was silent, except for the soft noise of my socks padding along the floor. I cursed myself for looking so ridiculous. If anyone caught me, I could easily say that I was just getting a midnight snack. Not sneaking down to spy on Spider-bitch. Boy. Whatever. Sneaking added to the excitement.

I made it downstairs all in one piece. Steve and Sam nearly passed me in one of the halls, but I had ducked into a briefing room. I could totally be a spy. Maybe I’m a Hydra spy. I thought. And they sent me here as a baby to take down the Avengers from the inside. What was I going on about? This was why I should really be in bed, I was clearly delirious. Once again, distracting myself in my thoughts led to me getting startled. I hadn’t even realized I was outside the boxing room. I would have walked right in if not for the handy wall that I smacked into.

Peter was in the ring, practicing his punches. He’d lowered down one of the punching bags from the ceiling and it was close to ripping at the seams. He was really going ham on it. The questions piled on. So, he came over to my house at midnight to…train? Something he had all afternoon today to do? God, he was weird. I suppose I didn’t quite know what I was going to get myself into when I finally walked in to confront him.

“What are you doing?” I asked, arms folded tightly across my chest.

Peter started and looked down at me. Sweat was dripping down his face. He looked exhausted. “Training,” he said bluntly. He returned to treating the punching bag like it had run over his dog.

“At one in the morning? And after you spent like six hours today doing just that?” I was not letting him off that easy. Peter ignored me and continued punching. “Your form is shit.” I mocked.

That made him stop. “Funny coming from the girl who never leaves her room. When have you ever trained? Like ever?”

“I still beat your ass.”

“Yeah like, a year ago when I was barely an avenger.”

I rolled my eyes. “You still aren’t.”

“What do you want?” Peter spat.

I shrugged. “Dunno.” I stared him down with a smug look on my face.

“You are always such a bitch, you know that?”

I faked a pout. “Aw…bite me.”

Peter was chewing the inside of his cheek in anger. “If you’re going to stay here and pester me, you might as well get a few punches in.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Consider it a rematch.”

I studied his physique for a moment. He’d grown a lot since Germany. He’d also trained a lot since then as well. I had done little of either. I knew that entering that ring would probably end up with me losing my dignity and maybe even a tooth. But I was not going to let him stand there with his stupid, sweaty face and get away with it. This is not a good idea, I thought as I took off my socks. I moved the ropes and stepped into the ring, standing a foot in front of the boy.

“I’ll still win.”

“No powers either.”

“Deal.” Not like I’ve touched my powers since…since the incident.

Peter took his stance and I did my best to mirror him. I realized in that moment that I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t know the first thing about boxing. Or sparring. I didn’t know how to fight without my powers. Oh, sweet Jesus.

We kept our distance at first, fists up. He threw a few punches and missed. I followed in suit. I finally got the first hit, a nice throw to his chest. He took it like a champ and didn’t flinch. Or rather, I couldn’t hit for shit and it didn’t hurt. He threw a punch to my left, only to miss on purpose and punched me square across my jaw. Ow. I chuckled lowly. The taste of blood filled my mouth from the fresh cut on my lip. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. All I could see was white rage.

Forget form, forget rules, forget everything. I lunged at him with everything I had. Lunged at him for all the bullshit he had brought into my life. For all the bitter things I had to hear my father say that weren’t even Peter’s fault. He was clearly not expecting my attack because we both fell to the ground. We fought tirelessly on the mat. He was physically stronger than me, so by default he was winning. He wrestled me until I was pinned under him. One hand was pinning my hand above my head, the other arm pinning down my body. In any other circumstances I would be amused to find myself in such a scandal. I looked in his eyes briefly and I could already tell he thought that he was winning. If there’s one thing I learned from Nat, it’s to always step on their moment. I hooked my leg around his knee and used all my force to flip us over. I had him pinned down now, my hair falling around my face. We were both breathing heavily.

“Told you,” I taunted. I was mentally preparing him to punch back but he didn’t. He snapped his arms out from under me and shoved me off him, hard. I fell back against the mat. He rose to his feet, brushing his hands off on his pants. “What the hell?” I exclaimed. I jumped to my feet while his back was turned to me and gave him a taste of his own medicine. He stumbled a few steps after I pushed him. Slowly, he stretched back up to reach his full height.

“You’re right,” he turned to face me and extended a hand. “Shake on the truce?” I took his hand, accepting his surrender. Only, he was not really surrendering. The moment my hand touched his, he yanked me towards him. I tripped over my feet and fell into him. My chest crashed onto his. The world was a blur as he grabbed me with force and spun us around, so he could push me up against the ropes of the ring.

“Stop, Peter get off me you bitch!” I fought back. I flailed my whole body around, trying to break loose. One hand reached up to grab the back of my head, pulling my hair and forcing my head back. I froze. His face was dangerously close to my exposed neck. His shift let my opposite arm break free. I took a breathe and reeled it back, ready to smack him in the across the face. He caught my wrist in time without taking his eyes off mine.

He lowered his head to whisper in my ear, “I win.” His breathe trickled down my neck. He had won, but he wasn’t moving. One hand was still in my hair, the other was pinning me against the ropes. His chest breathed heavily against my own. His grip on my head loosened slightly and I was able to look him straight on. He had that same smug look pasted across his face. His eyes moved from mine, trailing down my face, my neck, my body, before they settled on my lips. I momentarily lost the ability to breathe.

He kissed me hard. I tensed up slightly before giving into him completely. It tasted like blood and sweat and I felt like I was losing my mind. He pulled me closer, if that was even possible and claimed my mouth with his until my knees gave out. A newfound wave of warm washed through me. The hand in my hair gave a slight tug and my lips parted while that same hand moved to cup my jaw. For all I knew, the entire compound was wide awake and watching but I did not care. I brought my fingers to his hair, tugging at the ends. I smiled cunningly when he groaned into my mouth. He kissed me greedily and fully. Like he hated me. And I hated him.

We broke apart, limbs numb and chests heaving. The moment had passed, and our actions sunk in. What. The. Fuck. He lifted the ropes for me, and I climbed out of the ring. My head was still spinning from that kiss and my lip stung. Consequences I suppose, for kissing someone with a busted lip. I silently pulled my socks back on and Peter handed me a towel. Neither of us said another word. I left the room and didn’t look back. I could hear him behind me, but I was in no rush to have to look him in the eye ever again. What just happened?

 I woke the next morning to A.P.R.I.L. alerting me that “Father Dearest” was outside my door. He came in and sat on the edge of the bed. We both stayed quiet for a while.

I spoke first. “Where were you last night? You didn’t come by after…” I let my words trail off.

“I was going to, I swear. But then something came up with Peter and I had to go take care of that,” Dad answered.

I frowned. “Typical. Peter over your own flesh and blood, right?”

Dad inhaled sharply like he was going to bite back, but changed his mind. “That’s not true and you know it. Peter is…he’s going through something and I knew how to help him. Not everything is about you, you narcissist,” He said, joking at the end.

I had to push down my own smile. “Yeah well where do you think I got it from?” I sat up and leaned into my father. He brushed a hand down my back. “So, what’s wrong with Peter then?”

“I really shouldn’t tell you, it’s personal.” I looked up at him with my doe eyes. He rolled his eyes and sighed, nodding a silent defeat. I felt like I was nine again and he was gossiping with me about the latest secretary. Like every fight had been forgotten in this moment. “He’s been having some nightmares ever since DC. You remember the ones we used to get after Loki?” I nodded. “Now you, you always amazed me at how you handled those. But for me and Peter, we needed a different outlet. So, I let him come over in the middle of the night. I didn’t think anyone would notice.” I hummed in response, not sure what to make of that information. I mean, I kind of felt bad for the guy. He was still a bitch, but those dreams suck. No one should have to deal with them. “He really isn’t as bad as you think, you know.”

“Yeah,” I hummed. “I think you’re right.”

tag list:

@runawayolives @ creation-magician @ eridanuswave @ markhyucksmells @ beep-beep-losersclub

[dailydaydreamings]

Best in the Worst Way, Chapter 10

Okay, I might have taken out some inner rage on this one. It mentions some pretty heavy stuff, like trauma and violence. There’s a big argument about sexuality. This one flips back and forth between the night the reader sleeps with the boys (chapter 5) and their mission. I’m seriously gonna try to lighten things up, pinky swear. Please enjoy ;) —K

The Reader has been having a love affair with two Avengers and gets caught in a sticky situation. She’s suddenly faced with life decisions she’s not prepared for, including who to love, what she wants, and is this all worth it?

1 Year Ago

“What the hell happened last night,” you demanded, pacing back and forth in Steve’s room.

After waking up beside a very naked Steve and Bucky after last nights party, you sprung from bed, starling both boys awake. Bucky was now sitting on the lounge next to Steve bed, his head in his hands. Steve laid against his headboard looking perplexed.

“I’m pretty sure you asked us to have sex with you,” Bucky said, running his hand down his face. He looked like he had the world worst hangover. “I remember thinking, yeah that’s a great idea. But I don’t remember when it turned into a threesome.”

You frowned, “I thought you couldn’t get drunk.”

Steve shook his head, “We were drinking that stuff that Thor brings. I think we drank a lot of it.”

Bucky suddenly lurched forward, looking very green, “This is my first hangover since the 40s’, I might hurl. Don’t bring that stuff up again.”

You closed your eyes, they were useless. “Just to confirm, we had sex? I don’t remember anything after the gala.”

Steve nodded, “Yeah we definitely did...”

You groaned, “For shit’s sake, I’ve wanted to have sex with the two of you for a year and I can’t even remember it! Was it good?”

Bucky turned his head to look at you sideways, “First of all, how are you not hungover? You were pounding them back faster than us without enhancements. Second, YOU wanted to have sex with BOTH of US?”

You purged your lips, poor choice of words, but you would stand behind it. “I have excellent genes, first of all. To your second question, I really didn’t apcare which of you I had sex with last night, as long as it was one of you. I really wasn’t expecting sex with TWO of you!” And honestly, it was relieving to know you had had sex with both of them and you still didn’t have to choose.

Bucky nodded, almost like he respected what you were saying. Like he too had had a couple of nights waking up in a predicament like this. But now that you thought about it, for all of the male Avengers, there were only four you had never had to get their one nightstands to sign non-disclosure: Tony, Bruce, Scott, and Bucky. You’d even had to escort out one of Steve’s flings three months ago. You remembered a particular feeling of joy watching her sign the document, knowing she would never be returning.

But not Bucky, everyone else was having sex or had a reason not to be. There was no way he was a virgin, was there?

“You’re being awfully quiet,” Bucky interrupted your musing, directing his comment at Steve. “Nothing to say?”

Steve was looking both confused and pissed. Totally conflicted as to which emotion should take precedent. You watched his hands twisting in the sheets uncomfortably, “Its just that I’d never...you know...”

You and and Bucky exchanged a quick glance. “No,” you said. “We don’t?”

Steve rolled his eyes, and then whispered, “Never had sex with...” and then he coughed pointedly.

Frowning you asked, “More than one person at a time?”

Steve started to say something when Bucky stood, crossed his arms, and said, “No, he means he’s never had sex with a guy before.”

Steve’s sheepish look downward said enough.

Attempting to resolve some of the tension, you waved a hand, “It’s so not big deal, Steve. I’ve had sex with women. Sometimes it just happens, you know?”

Steve’s eyes snapped up to you, his jaw locking, “I’m not that guy. I’m not gay.”

“You weren’t exactly straight last night either,” Bucky snapped. You looked between the two of them, what happened last night. There was history here too, something you were missing.

You held up your hands defensively, “I never called you gay, Steve. I mean, there was still a woman involved last night, I’m assuming.” You looked at Bucky for clarity, he nodded. “I’m just saying, it’s okay. You don’t need to feel ashamed.”

Steve glared at the two of you, “Yeah, well, it’s never happening again.”

———

Bucky hated to admit it, but going on a mission with Steve was easy.

After the plane ride north, very far north, full of glares and silence, it was like slipping into a glove. No matter how angry they were with each other, they still worked well together. They had to when danger was involved. They were professional, afterall.

Even spare time in the safe house, at first it was cold and awkward, but the very first night, Bucky had a nightmare. He woke screaming to find Steve upstanding over him, shaking him gently. Before Bucky could say anything, Steve climbed into bed beside him, and wrapped an arm around Bucky, like how Bucky needed after a bad nightmare.

And so, things went back to how they used to be, slowly. Bucky made breakfast in the morning and Steve said, “Did you really love Bridgerton or was it just me?”

Bucky smirked, crisping up the bacon, and said, “We watched the whole season in one weekend.”

The thing about this mission, it was boring. There wasn’t a lot of action, just waiting in case it happened on the basis of a really good tip, apparently. Bucky was seriously beginning to think it was a load of crap.

So, during the days they did recon, and when they could, they hung out and caught up at the safe house. At first, it was like old times, pre-relationship. Your name didn’t come up once, they didn’t talk about the babies. Bucky terrified to bring it up and burst whatever bubble they had created.

Then, Bucky was making dinner one night, and Steve walked up behind him and kissed the back of his neck...one thing led to another and they found themselves wrapped in sheets, lazing a couple of hours later. Bucky had an arm over his head, watching the still ceiling fan and he muttered, “What the hell, Steve?”

Steve propped himself up on his elbow to observe Bucky, “What do you mean?”

Bucky glared at him, “You know what I mean. Y/n tells us she’s pregnant. You go awol. You ask her to leave me and get an abortion. You see the babies, you want back into our lives. You spend weeks wooing her and ignoring me. And now what?”

Steve sighed, “I just, I can’t see her being part of my life any more, Buck. She doesn’t want me. And I don’t want to lose you, you’re my best friend and I love you. And I want these babies, and I don’t know, I guess the last couple of days, playing house...I just got thinking, we could raise these kids, together.”

Bucky sat up in bed, quickly at that. Was Steve really asking what Bucky was thinking, for him to leave you and raise the twins without you?

“First of all, that’s never going to fucking happen,” Bucky snapped, reaching for his shirt on the floor. “I’d never leave her and you’d never play the part of the gay guy, I know you. You can’t be who you are.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “And you’d be okay playing the throuple game? You really think people would be okay with that? Captain America and the Winter Soldier in, what did y/n call it? The super secret super soldier threesome?”

Bucky shook his head, reaching for his pants now. “Captain America,” he mused. “How far you’ve come, huh? Rather by the gay guy than a throuple? Do you know how shitty that would make y/n feel? Or how that makes me feel? You only wanted her back so you two could be the good American couple and you could have the babies in peace. Am I right?”

Bucky stood and saw Steve lowering his eyes. “Un-fucking-believable.”

Steve’s eyes snapped up to meet Bucky’s. “The two of you were always preaching to me it was my journey with how I wanted to come out as bi. Or if I wanted to come out. Maybe I don’t want to. It’s not up to you to shame me for my choices.”

Bucky just shook his head, “I’m just disappointed you don’t love us enough to try.”

———

1 Year Ago

The compound had a Starbucks, it was honestly a godsend. You got coffee there most of the time and it was the best place to get someone talking. Which is why, when you got a text from Bucky asking you to talk, you suggested it.

“What did you want to talk about?” You broached, sipping at your chai tea latte.

Bucky looked down at his plain, black coffee. “You’re the only one who knows what happened with Steve...and I just figured you might be the person to talk about...sex with?” He looked up at that, an eyebrow quirked slightly.

Steve had been avoiding the two of you in the week since the gala. It was just awesome, you loved the silent treatment.

To Bucky, you answered, “I’m more than comfortable talking about sex.” And you were probably a little too comfortable, if you were being honest with yourself, but Bucky didn’t need your detailed kill list.

Bucky nodded, “I figured, no offence.” You shrugged it off. “It’s just, I wanted to have sex with you ever since I met you. Honestly, I wanted more than sex, but this is where we are. Sex is not an easy thing for me...ever since, you know..everything.”

You reached across the table and gently took his hand. He cleared his throat, pointedly looking around. “The thing is, I’ve been in love with Steve since we were kids.”

Oh, you thought. That wasn’t what you were expecting him to say at all. You were totally expecting some speak about being a virgin.

“Oh,” was all you managed to say aloud too, apparently. You kicked yourself internally for your awkwardness. “Okay...Bucky, I’m so sorry then.” You suddenly started to remember Steve’s reaction. He was pissed about having sex with another guy when he’d woken up beside them.

Bucky ducked his head, “I wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction from him. I hoped, that maybe, finally, he would...”

You placed a hand on your breaking heart, “He would feel the same,” you finished and Bucky nodded.

You looked down at your own drink, trying to think of the best thing to say. “I don’t know anything about being in love with another girl. I’m attracted to both but I’ve always loved men. I do know what it’s like to love someone so much it hurts, and to desperately want them to see you. I once kissed a guy I loved so much in front of everyone we knew, thinking it was some big romantic gesture, only to find out he had a girlfriend and I was the last to know.”

Bucky cracked a smile at that.

“Love sucks,” you concluded.

Bucky leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “I hate feeling like I’m losing my best friend.”

You nodded, “He’ll come around. Either to accept you as first friend again, or to see things from your point of view.”

Bucky fiddled with his fingers slightly as he said, “Steve’s always been the more proper one. He follows the rules. I think he can accept me, but I can’t see him ever loving me like I love him.”

You reached across the table, one more time to wrap both your hands around his, “How do you know if you don’t talk to him?”

———

“Fuck you, Bucky!” Steve shouted, following Bucky out of the bedroom. “I’m offering you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Bucky stormed into the kitchen, he wasn’t quite sure where he was going, but it couldn’t involve Steve. He started searching for his cost as he snapped, “What I want has changed. I want her and you, this isn’t an either or situation.”

Steve slammed a hand into the counter, “You just want her because she’s having your baby. Admit it, if I’d offered you this before she got pregnant you would have jumped ship in a heartbeat.”

Bucky paused, sending a death glare at Steve. “What the fuck. I love her, Steve,” he said it almost calmly now. “Baby or not, I love her. She is the best part of my day, my biggest supporter, and takes my breath away every time I see her. I wouldn’t have jumped ship because the terms of our relationship involved three of us, not just you and me. She wasn’t my way to get to you, she as an independent part of this relationship.”

Steve’s face crumpled, as he leaned forward to press his face against the counter. “I don’t know how to do this, Buck. I thought I had everything when I went back to Peggy. I thought this life was over. I didn’t expect everything to just get harder.”

Bucky placed his hands in his hips. “Why do you make it so much harder than it has to be? My god, Steve, you were the skinny kid dying to go to war. You fought Hydra almost singlehandedly. You stood up to Tony Stark for me. And you’re afraid to let the world know you’re in a relationship with a man and a woman.” Steve flinched at those words. “Steve, babe, do you know how much joy you are keeping from yourself by being so afraid?”

Steve looked up, there were tears shinning in his eyes.

But Bucky wasn’t done, “You’re right Steve, this is your journey. If you don’t want to come out, that’s fine. You can be the cool uncle who hangs out all the time, or you can have shared custody and we’ll tell everyone I started sleeping with her later. But we could have a truly amazing life together, if you were just willing to give this thing a try.”

Steve clapped his hand together, a pained look on his face as he said, “Do you know what keeps me up at night, Buck? Any and every single story on the news about people getting beat to death for being gay or trans or different. It keeps me awake, I can see their faces. I can see their pain. Big old Captain America doesn’t have nightmares about Thanos or Ultron, but that. We as a species are so terrible to each other that we kill people because they choose to love.”

Bucky had tears running down his face. Steve’s jaw was clenched so tight he thought it might shatter. Bucky finally said quietly, “I didn’t know that, Steve.”

Steve reached up and aggressively wiped a tear away. “I just want to hide away and be happy together. I know we’re safe at the compound, I know we can defend ourselves. But what if some guy just decided to shoot you or y/n because you’re in some “abnormal” relationship?

Bucky reached for him then, “Babe, we can’t stop any of that from happening. But we can trust that we are well equipped to handle ourselves and take care of y/n and the babies. We can be okay. We can have a happy life, I promise.”

Steve let loose a long sigh and reached for Bucky. Their embrace was short lived, but for a second it was everything they needed. It said more than a thousand words could. It healed.

And then the explosion rocked the house.

———

After what could only be described as the world’s longest day of work, you hobbled towards your bedroom. You were so ready to get out of this stupid work dress and put on some sweats.

In your closet, you stripped down to nothing, and caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. At 18 weeks, with twin super soldiers babies, you looked huge. You remembered when your friends had started getting pregnant, they hadn’t been nearly as big, and you were only going to get bigger.

You flattened your hand against your stomach, bringing it to cradle your bump. “Hello, little ones,” you mused, “you’ll be here soon enough. I guess that means mommy needs to stop waiting for daddy to make up your nursery, huh?”

You looked yourself in the mirror, suddenly feeling rediculous. It wasn’t like you were really expecting an answer, were you? You were getting way too used to silence.

As you were pulling on your seats though, you felt a slight flutter. You paused. You’d felt some movement, but this was definitely a kick.

Shaking in disbelief, you hobbled towards your bed, sitting down on the white bedspread, spreading your hands on either side of your belly.

“Okay, guys, I know you can hear me. Give mommy another kick, please.”

Nothing.

You gave your stomach a poke, “Come on, guys. Just one little kick for your mommy.”

Then you felt a nice, sharp kick by your ribs. Letting go a sharp breath, you smiled, “Nice one. Oh my god, your daddy is going to be so upset he missed this.”

You laughed. Because your babies were kicking, and they were kicking hard. And suddenly your bedroom seemed so much bigger and lonelier. And it wasn’t just Bucky who was missing this, it was also Steve. Who had just as much a right to feel these babies kick.

You wrapped an arm around your middle, solemnly, “When your daddies get home,” you emphasized the plural, “you’re gonna kick up a storm for them, okay? No matter how mad mommy is.”

So you started your nightly routine, you made dinner and watched a show and read your book. You were washing your face when your phone rang. Tony’s name flashed across the top.

You answered it on speaker, “Hey, what’s up?” You reached for your serum and started rubbing it in.

“You’re gonna need to come into the compound, right now.” Tony said from the other end.

You raised an eyebrow. No fucking way. You were going to bed, you were dressed for bed. You had a rough day already, anything else could wait till morning.

“Tony, you have given me scrap about taking it easy and sleeping and nothing working rediculous hours. It is ten o’clock on a Wednesday. I am going to bed.”

“Y/n,” Tony’s voice softened and you paused. “I need you to come in right now.”

You picked up your phone, pressing the FaceTime button. Suddenly you were face to face with a sheepish looking Tony Stark. You took a second to observe his face before saying, “Which one of them is dead?”

Tony let out a long breath and your heart constricted.

No, no, no. This could not be happening. Not on such a good night.

Tony finally said, “They’re not dead. Either of them.”

Suddenly you were on the floor, on a sob bubbling in your throat. Oh, thank god. Nothing else matter, they weren’t dead.

“Y/n, they’re in bad shape though,” Tony’s voice now sounded very, very far away. You tried to focus in on what’s he was saying, but all you could think was, they’re not fucking dead. “Y/n, they’re hurt and being transferred here and they’re asking for you.”

Tags

@booktease21 @sexyvixen7 @just-the-hiddles @fading-mentality-bouquet @a--1--1--3 @broco8 @yougottalovefandoms @hailqueenconquer @tazzi-baby @imaginebeinlovedbyme @amiets2 @prettyblueskylark

[champagne-bucky]

Debt to Be Paid: I

Summary: Earth fears intergalactic war with another planet. The Avengers are called to work out negotiations on Zevitar, the planet of peace. What happens when they are reunited with their long lost team member?

Warnings: dark!Bucky x reader, mentions of non/dub-con, age gap (reader is of age) 

Notes: SHE’S HEREEEEEEE!!! Welcome to the first chapter of DTBP, the sequel to IOU!! If you’re new to this story make sure you check out IOU before you read this!! To all those who have read IOU... buckle up... Anyways enjoy!! Let me know what ya think! Please make sure to like, comment, reblog, inbox, and follow me for more! Enjoy :) 

Throughout his lifetime Steve Rogers was exposed to many types of pain. Whether it was physical, mental, or emotional, Steve could handle just about anything life could throw at him. That was until he lost you. In all his years of fighting alongside the Avengers, having been responsible for the demise of half the world’s population, and the tons of toxic chemicals pumped into his body could never prepare him for the pain of losing a child. While there is no biological relation, Steve couldn’t help but mourn for the loss of his daughter.

When Sam and Tony had come to the island to end his vacation they were trying to keep quiet about the situation that occurred back home. It wasn’t until three hours into the flight back home that Tony finally cracked and told Steve what was up. Steve was in shock, his daughter fought and nearly killed his best friend? Impossible.

Needless to say, Steve Rogers was an emotional wreck once he got back to the compound. He saw the state of Bucky’s room, he saw where they kept you locked up, he saw the damage that had been done to Stephen and Wanda when you escaped. He saw parts of you that he never knew you held. How dark had you become since he left, he wondered on those late sleepless nights.

Steve didn’t speak for days. Instead, he spent them walking around the taped off ruins of his beloved compound. What was once a home for him and his family felt more like a cold, steel, jail cell. He was truly in hell without you.

The nights were filled with him lying awake in bed, eyes opened wide and darting to every corner of the room, praying that you would somehow walk out of the shadows and back to him. Instead of taking sleeping pills that Tony suggested to him, he would get up out of bed and start researching, questioning, and theorizing where it is that you could be.

After a few weeks and two overworked coffee machines later, Steve had created three possible theories about what could have happened to you:

Being an Avenger came with a handful of enemies.  

Almost everyone on the team had their own enemies. From empty threats to stalker incidences, no one on the team was really safe. Any form of social media was constantly monitored, every time they were in a car there was security two cars behind, the second an Avenger leaves the tower they have surveillance on them 99.9% of the time.

Still, that .1% haunts Steve. He knows that people have their ways when it comes to the innovation of technology. Perhaps there was someone out there that was too good with computers. They hacked you, stalked you, and threatened you not to tell anyone. Maybe it got so out of hand to the point where you ran away for the protection of yourself and for the others. Maybe you attacked Bucky to keep the secret hidden or you got so scared that attacking him was an accident.

    2.   Everyone has their demons… maybe you had kept yours hidden too well.

As days grew longer, so did Steve’s suspicions. He never thought bad things about you. In fact, Steve knew there wasn’t a bad bone in your body. So why did he keep thinking you were secretly an evil person?

He theorized that there could’ve been another side to who you were. The nice and sweet you was all an act and you were waiting for an opportunity to show your true self. Between him not being around anymore and you now having full access to technology and weapons only Avengers have access to, you took advantage of your new found status and got carried away. Bucky found out and tried to put a stop to you and that’s how he ended up getting attacked. You broke out before you could face any consequences.

Steve shook his head at this theory. He knew you like he knew the layout of his old 40’s apartment. You’re not a bad person and never once have you said you hated someone. You never said you even hated Bucky, just upset that he didn’t seem to like you as much as the others did.

  3.  Being apart from Steve sent you towards a downwards spiral… basically it was all Steve’s fault that you’re gone.

This theory made a whole lot of sense, and none of it at the same time. Yes, everyone could confirm that you really missed Steve. You missed training with him and hanging out with him. You missed his presence around the compound as well. Something about Steve just made your days way better than when he wasn’t at the compound at all.

What didn’t make sense to anybody was why would you attack someone over this? Sure, you missed Steve, but nobody thought you missed him so much to the point of nearly killing someone. Bucky did give you a hard time, but as far as the Avengers knew it was just some name calling you didn’t appreciate.

Everyone recounted their last few days with you at the compound. You seemed okay, nothing out of the usual for you. However, Peter did speak up saying you seemed a bit jumpier and a little bit down and out than usual. Again, it chalked up to you missing Steve really bad. Then there was the matter of Stephen and Wanda.

They were your last victims before you escaped. The pair had gone through extensive questioning. However, they both had the same story. Wanda and Strange had tried to calm you down, but things got out of hand and you ended up lashing out at them.

Steve hit a brick wall at this point. How could no one know what happened to you? He tried hacking into security cameras from that day, but he was met with a disappointing glare from Tony and a handful of security to escort him out of the room meant for their investigation.

What was there even to investigate? You were gone and as far as anybody knew, there was no trace of you in New York, the United States, and pretty much any other country that agents were sent out to look for you. Steve guessed they only continued because Bucky needed to get some sort of justice or closure, but he swears that he was attacked for no reason. Everyone knew about their slight tension, but thought it wouldn’t go as far as leaving Bucky hospitalized.

Bucky kept quiet after Steve came back. Truth be told, he feared what his friend might do to him if the truth got out. He made sure to delete any evidence he could off his computer of you. When he visited you those last days, he managed to fuck up something in the control room that cut off the audio of him talking. No one had called him in to question his meeting with you, and Bucky was relieved because he needed more time to come up with the perfect excuse.

Now all he had to do was get rid of Wanda and Stephen, or get them off his back. He knows that they must know something. Tensions around the compound have been high around the three of them. The pair had been cold towards him after the attack, only going so far as signing a ‘Get Well Soon’ card and pitching in a few dollars for a thing of flowers, but that was all.

Wanda and Strange wasted no time after their questioning was over. They got right to work trying to compile all the evidence they could to expose Bucky. Unfortunately, it was proving to be more difficult than expected.

Bucky’s room had been blocked off by agents. He had to change rooms until the investigation was cleared. Everything in the room remained untouched, but no Avengers, besides Tony, had access to the room.

Strange and Wanda even went in from another angle and enlisted Peter to help find that security footage, but so far everything was blocked off to them. It seemed like there was one dead end after another. If the pair weren’t fast in their findings, they might never get justice for you. Even if you were long gone, Bucky shouldn’t get away with what he did.

No matter what, the pair of Avengers new they needed to finish the job you attempted to start… and Stephen Strange and Wanda Maximoff will be damned if justice wasn’t served.

~Meanwhile~

You emptied your stomach of breakfast later in the day. Same as yesterday, the day before that, and the day before that… something’s got to be up?

Maybe it was nerves? That could explain a lot seeing as the nightmares weren’t letting up anytime soon.

Seeing images of Bucky Barnes every time you close your eyes led to a lot of sleepless nights. It led to much more than sleepless nights, but you tried your best to listen to Carol’s advice and put the past behind you. Sadly, it would take a lot more than blocking that vile man from your thoughts.

Carol saw how you were feeling sick everyday. She also tried to put the worst out of her head, but curiosity piqued. It was important for her to tell you, but it was also important that you found out now before you were back on your home planet alone and scared.

When she first suggested that you may be pregnant, you laughed in her face, then you cried, then were angry, then depressed. There was no possible way, right? You remembered to take your birth control every night, right?

Okay, now you were freaking out. There was one night you might’ve forgot to take it, and that time spent in your jail cell, and maybe one or twice while on a mission.

Now you were panicking.

You forgot some days to take birth control, you were off it for a couple of days too. Bucky was relentless. The possibilities were leading towards confirmation. Every sign of pregnancy pointed to yes.

You tried to deny it for a week, but as you looked at the remnants of today’s breakfast being flushed down the toilet again you collected yourself and came towards acceptance. Coming out of the bathroom, Carol was right there with a quirked brow. She was about to say something, but you opened your mouth first.

“FUCK!”

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I A VENOMOUS INTERLUDE

Did y'all know symbrock is canon? Well, now you do. Reader's favourite deadbeat surrogate uncle is in town and he brought a... Friend. No warnings, just a boatload of crack and fluff, as usual. Reader being mouthy. Takes place a little bit into the future - around after chapter 32: spoiler alert is useless because we already know a tonybrucestrange/reader quartet is the endgame. 💖💝✨

"What," I had to pause for a second for my brain to catch up with my eyes. "The fuck?!"

It was truly a miracle I could say anything out loud, at all. Words weren't valid enough to describe my shock and confusion. The scene unfolding in front of me resembled and unholy cross between a B-rated horror movies about demonic possession and some deep-sea Eldritch monstrosity.

The eight-feet tall black, oozing dude in front of me? Yes, you, with the teeth. Ctulhu called, he wants his tentacles back.

The creature honest to god rippled, like some nightmare-fuel goth Jell-O, rapidly shrinking in size within seconds. As more of the black tar-like substance receded, a much more human form started to appear under it. Worn jeans, leather jacket, ungroomed beard and the look of a biker gang member coming off a serious bender.

"Uh, Princess?"

"Eddie. Fucking. Brock. Uncle Idiot." I punctuated each word with an increasing widening of my eyes. The world was fucking nuts. Two and two did not compute - Eddie might have looked threatening to some people - like white suburban Karens - even without the... Gooey squid-on-steroids thing he had going on. The man was built like a fucking brick shithouse, but I knew him way too well. Eddie couldn't be that badass to save a life.

"You two know each other?" Tony shrieked indignantly, a coarseness in his voice that indicated only one thing: my boo was well into his third drink. Hell, I didn't blame him - that gaping toothy maw was fucking gnarly.

Hands on my hips, I caught myself slipping into a mute rage, storming over to the 200lbs worth of pure dumbass and knocking him right in the face. "You! Didn't tell! ME!" A black tendril wrapped around my wrist, carefully but firmly securing it and preventing me from causing my non-related uncle any more physical damage. Although I must admit, my knuckles probably were more affected than his jaw. "You! Are! A MUTANT!!! HOW COULD YOU?! How could you NOT tell ME?"

I trusted the man with my soul and most embarrassing drinking stories. Hell, I called Eddie in a stoned haze the very same night I lost my v-card. I just thought we were bros, you know? I saw his whole fucking life implode more than once and personally flew to California to ice his injuries and his hurt ego countless times. I was done dirty in the worst way.

"I'm not-" Eddie's sigh was long-suffering. "I, uh, I have a parasite..." He sounded meek, in the same way he used to describe his drunkenly misconduct when I made our family driver bail out his ass outta jail in the morning.

"TAKE THAT BACK!" A deep gravelly voice thundered, seemingly coming out of his chest?

"Okay, okay," Eddie smiled. It was strangely soft and un-eddie-like. The only person he smiled like that was... used to be Anne. "This is Venom. They're an alien and we're, uh, a thing. It's a recent development." The tentacle unwrapped itself from me as I took an involuntary step back.

Even barring the fact that Eddie was dating an alien, this was way too fucking weird for 3 o'clock on a Sunday. I always knew the reporter was, for the lack of a better word, a little weird but he really took it to new heights. With Thor and Loki looking... Like that, I could see a human dating some sort of a hot alien. But with Ctulhu looking the way he did just minutes ago? Did Eddie seriously let all of those teeth in close proximity of his dick?

I had a "ERROR 404, common sense not found" hanging over me for the longest time. The others were quiet behind me, too, even Tony - one of my boyfriends, the most likely to cause utter chaos, was hanging back and expecting me to do something.

"Venom," I clarified, just to fill the silence with some noise while my brain processors re-synced.

"WE ARE VENOM." The tentacle that was sleek and black now had two completely white eyes and a smaller-scale version of the toothy grin that had drooled all over the common room carpet. Their voice had an interesting effect: it was so deep, the air around them vibrated slightly when they spoke.

I tilted my head examining the appendage. It was considerably less terrifying when it wasn't five times my size. "What are you?" And most importantly, are you a threat to my favourite non-related family member? I left that statement unspoken although it was obvious I was ready to fight it? Them? If need be.

"A SYMBIOTE," They replied, swaying the head-tentacle slowly. "WE LOVE EDDIE AND KEEP HIM ALIVE AND HEALTHY." So, they understood the actual question.

"Which is fucked up because Klyntar usually behave in the opposite way." Hearing Thor swear was, perhaps, even more unsettling than finding out about the symbiote-alien-boyfriend thing my uncle had going on. The thunderer himself was nursing a jug of golden liquid. The good Asgardian stuff, he must've been really fucking bamboozled.

"Okay. So anybody wanna fill me on the details before I beat up my favourite idiot?" I sighed, pointedly looking at Tony.

"I thought I was your favourite idiot!" He immediately retorted, hurt, but nonetheless opened his arms to give me a grounding embrace. We may have sucked face for a few seconds, because why the hell not, Tony was an amazing kisser and his tongue down my throat was very calming.

"Hold up, what the fuck?" Now it was Eddie's turn to act all offended. "Aren't you a little too young for him?"

"You and your most likely carnivorous goth space pudding can fuck right off if you're not going to be supportive of my very inappropriate, very polyamorous relationship with three incredibly hot boomers," I shot back, slipping into some resemblance of normalcy. Me and Eddie go way, way back and shitting on each other's bad life decisions was the founding stone of our bromance. Hell, he was the guy who showed me the wonders of sarcasm at an early age! Wonderbaum!

"There's three of them?" Eddie's voice pitched and he gaped, palming his face.

"SHE HAS A POINT, EDDIE. WE EAT PEOPLE. BEING UNSUPPORTIVE WOULD MAKE US LOOK LIKE AN ASSHOLE." Eddie's buddy stated, sounding almost fed up. So, they were sentient enough to recognize how much of a pain in the ass Eddie could be. I could work with that, disregarding the cannibalism comment, of course. What the fuck was up with that?

"Yes, Eddie, I also periodically bump uglies and trade disgustingly sweet text messages with the Hulk and a badass wizard," I rolled my eyes at the reporter's following gasp and angry muttering. "Venom, I like you."

"WE RETURN THE SENTIMENT. YOUR CHOICE IN MATES IS VERY WISE, CONSIDERING YOU ARE A WEAK MORSEL. THEY CAN PROTECT YOU."

"Shut up, Squid. I'll still kick your motherfucking ass if you hurt Eddie."

The emo space goo laughed, a terse scratching noise, showing way, way too many teeth for me to feel comfortable but I allowed myself to be placed on the couch between Tony and Eddie nonetheless. The initial shock of seeing a talking octopod with fangs passed quickly - I've seen Stephen's "trophies" he brought from his otherworldly journeys and Lovecraftian horrors were, honestly, pretty low on the gross/creepy scale.

"Both of you, explain. For the love of fuck," Tony sighed, emotionally exhausted and drained of his usual bravado.

"Eddie was my dad's friend until he moved to Cali, I've know him for fifteen years, give or take. He taught me how to ride a bike and bake the best pot brownies," I shrugged. There wasn't much to say. "I visited him whenever I could but you know, with school and then you guys, there wasn't that much time to iron out the details." I have Eddie a death glare, pointing to Venom's floaty head with my eyes.

Eddie nodded. "What she said..." And then launched an elaborate tale about some company called Life Foundation, some evil dude named Drake and his own alien pudding named Carnage, who was one ugly motherfucker judging by Eddie's and Venom's combined "ew" face, their aching need for human brains to survive and other, more trivial things, like mental breakdowns in a lobster tank and getting dumped by a fiancé and eating their way through a HYDRA base after being captured and tortured. What a wild fucking ride.

"Sounds like you had a rough year," Everybody's dumbfounded silence was ended by Tony who took a slow swig of his whiskey before speaking.

"Yeah, no shit," Eddie muttered, twisting his black coated fingers in elaborate but frankly pretty shapes. His alien wrapped around his neck like a tube scarf and additional tentacles appeared between Eddie's hands, gently prying them open and enveloping them in a sort of a hug? It was hard to compute, the black mass appeared to be totally amorphous.

"How's your anxiety?" I asked, damn well knowing Eddie's mind tended to run like Tony's: zero to sixty in point five with no clear destination. Having an alien inside of him must've really thrown Eddie for a loop.

"It's, uh, better. Venom helps," The reporter admitted, still staring at his hands but the crease between his brows had disappeared and the expression he wore was kind of fond.

"Good. You know, Venom," I thoughtfully addressed the definitely sentient creature. "Eddie is a bigger dumbass than me, which is saying something. You ought to keep a really close eye on him. If not for me, he'd probably be dead from alcohol poisoning, like, years ago."

"WE ARE AWARE. WE CAN ACCESS EDDIE'S MEMORIES." A head manifested itself on a thicker tentacle, floating over to look me in the face but maintaining a respectful distance and staying out of my personal space bubble. "AND WE ARE THANKFUL. EDDIE IS THE PERFECT HOST. WE LOVE EDDIE."

I felt the corner of my mouth tilt upwards at the alien's proclamation. It was child-like in its blunt honesty but carried a certain weight with it. It told me whoever tries to separate those two in any way would get eaten faster than they could say "SIKE!". And honestly? I would help Venom hide the evidence.

"I literally had you for thirty minutes but I would kill everybody and then myself if you two got hurt. This is too soft, I can't." I snorted, extending a curious hand towards Venom. They looked so shiny. I had to touch them.

And they let me. Venom butted their head into my palm and let me gently run my fingers over their slightly cool, slippery flesh. It felt like putting my hands on a surprisingly sturdy yet bouncy piece of flubber. I purposely avoided the small maw and the endless rows of sharp teeth but managed to accidentally brush against something rough and scratchy - as it turned out, the Symbiote had a very long, very dexterous tongue. And didn't that give me a bunch of interesting mental images.

"Oh my God, NO!" Wanda moaned from somewhere, the voice mortified and disgusted.

"Why are you touching the people-eating alien?" Bruce yelped, entering the room with several people in tow. The scientist looked worried, a little bit green around the edges. The tablet in his hands beeped periodically, signifying the ongoing sciencing bender he was in process of.

"WE WOULD NOT EAT THIS HUMAN. WE ARE FOND OF THE MORSEL." Venom defended, well, venomously. Eddie wisely choose to stay silent, trading a knowing look with Tony.

Stephen Strange sighed, briefly closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose with a jagged movement. "One day, Princess, one day you will stop collecting people that are obviously bad for your health and your future. That, or space in the tower will simply run out." With a deeper, calmer sigh, the sorcerer landed in front of me on the floor, sitting cross-legged and subtly begging for a head scratch. Which meant just placing his always neatly trimmed curls under my free hand. His jealousy was about as subtle as a foot in the face.

"I'll just ask Tony to build more floors, duh," I rolled my eyes with force at the obvious solution, giving into Steph's demands, beginning to card through his hair. It was calming both of us, really.

Bruce came over to give me a kiss and my other boyfriends didn't even grumble about the scientist placing himself in my lap, crawling over both Tony and Stephen to get comfortable.

Our dynamic was unconventional and more than a little weird, but it worked for us and the rest of the team most certainly didn't complain about the vast decrease in conflict that came with the territory. Come to think of it, all of us were more tactile than just a group of friends sharing a house and I was very much on board with that. None of us except select few (looking at you, mister doctor) were hugged enough as children and we were making up for it in spades right fucking now.

"Girl has a type," Wanda remarked, like the messy little shit she was. I stuck out my tongue in retaliation.

The Avengers' brain trust began talking about Venom's slightly inconvenient diet that directly resulted in multiple felonies for one Edward Brock, and as much as I tried to follow the flow and make my own, however feeble, contributions to the scientific side of the conversation, the new life form was much more interesting. I asked Venom several questions and they deemed them acceptable enough to answer - which evolved on both of us absolutely geeking out over the differences in our physiology. The space pudding didn't hold back one bit, insulting the inferior human biology with gleeful gusto.

"They need a chemical called phenethylamine," Bruce sighed, having deduced it through discussion since Venom and Eddie both protested aggressively against any kind of invasive testing. "I can synthesize it. No more head-chomping, no more murder."

It made perfect sense. Except it didn't. "Brucie-bear, you're a brilliant fucking scientist but a shit psychologist." I interrupted whatever came next. "Venom is a person, like me and you and, yes, even Hulk. Tell me this: if you found a way to get rid of Hulk, would you stop sciencing in the gamma radiation field?" I looked my boyfriend straight in the eyes, hoping for a spark of common sense. "Do you see my point? You science, Tony engineers, Steve draws and Clint bakes. Venom hunts. It's who they are, you can't give them a pill to make it go away."

The weight of my word landed in the room like lead, heavy. The only source of sound was the TV, playing the news quietly in the background for the longest time. Those few minutes felt like hours until Thor expectantly turned towards Eddie/Venom.

"IT IS SO. WE ARE AFRAID WE CANNOT INFLUENCE OUR INSTINCT TO HUNT PREY. KLYNTAR ARE APEX PREDATORS." The little black goop sounded almost apologetic. It was hard to hear undertones with their voice being so deep and grating. "BUT WE CAN TRY." Okay, I could totally hear the hope. Finding out the Eldritch horror could make puppy eyes was... Terrifying, to be honest, because they fucking worked.

"Got any better ideas?" Tony asked me sarcastically.

"I do, actually." I leveled a look with Natasha. She understood. "HYDRA goons. The aliens that, for some reason, keep invading New York every month or so. Stephen's adventures in Hell. Do I need to continue?"

"Wait, hold on," Steve raised his palms. "We don't kill HYDRA, we deposit them in SHIELD custody."

I snorted at the naïve Captain. "And what do you think happens to them there? Did you honestly think they just let torturing, murdering, world-domination planning psychos back on the streets?"

Steve frowned in confusion. "They go to prison?"

Natasha choose that moment to step up. "It's not uncommon for them to possess certain enhancements to be deemed too dangerous to be released back into society. Some of them are low-tier mutants and inhumans. Trust me, Steve, the lethal injection is a much more humane treatment than solitary life imprisonment in a ultra-high security prison." Romanoff stated with a trace of compassion. "And some mutants, we can't contain for prolonged periods of time." She added quietly, looking away.

Rogers was staring blankly into the wall, mulling over the information in his head. His intensive thought process was plainly visible on his face. I heard about some kind of fiasco with HYDRA agents suicide-bombing a city in Europe few years ago and Steve was there, along with Wanda and Sam.

"Venom is a whole person, and even if they look like they could be the main character in Call of Ctulhu video game, we can't just disregard them like they are some kind of badly behaving pet. They're my honorary uncle's boyf-sorry-significant other, for fuck's sake," I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation. "Y'all should know I don't fuck with people who give shit to one of my own. Don't disappoint me like that." I finished, feeling more tired than I had in months. I didn't regret giving into the found family dynamic, however I didn't exactly sign up for hard choices like them vs my long lost uncle, y'know?

Great, now I had a headache and three very concerned boyfriends glaring at me for unknown reasons. The urge to pace always manifested strongly within me as the emotional atmosphere rose in the room. With Bruce dangling off my lap, I couldn't do even that and I felt the restlessness blossom into irritation more and more with each passing second of my existence.

Eddie remained silent, looking down. Venom had mostly receded into the reporter's body, save for a few tentacles tightly wrapped around Eddie's palm.

"Alright," Steve suddenly said. "We can work with that."

"Princess, you look like you're either going to cry or yell any second," Bruce said softly, squeezing my shoulder and pulling me closer.

I immediately hid my face in his chest, taking several deep, shaky breaths. "Eddie is family. Y'all are family. It's terrifying to have to choose between the two." I said, after a brief moment of hesitation.

The reporter made some sort of a choked gasp, quickly masking it with a cough - I knew him way too well to miss the way he was fighting back tears of his own. Bruce understood, he really did understand me - hopped off my lap and let me hug Eddie properly, my happy-sad tears soaking through the collar of his tee.

"You're, uh, welcome to stay. I'll have a guest room prepared." Tony cleared his throat, passing his half-finished glass to Stephen who swallowed the liquid in one gulp. My boyfriends were so fucking emotionally illiterate. Disaster humans.

Huh, I really did have a type.

Later that night, I made the mistake of barging into Eddie's room with a bottle of really fancy whiskey I liberated from Tony's overstocked liquor cabinet. Visiting my uncle and boozing and smoking on the balcony, for old times sake, was my plan and...

I failed the mission successfully.

I didn't bother knocking. As soon as I saw a pair of bare feet, my eyes traveled further up on the couch on their own volition. There were so many tentacles, a writhing, oozing silky black mass and Eddie was making sounds, unmistakable noises-

"UNSEE. UNSEE. OH MY GOD, UNSEE, UNSEE." I stumbled back into the common room shivering.

"What happened, is everything okay?" Bucky stood up as soon as he saw me enter the doorway with my face scrunched in a grimace of regret. I felt like I've gone through the five stages of grief in the shortest time possible for a human being.

Somwhere, I heard Wanda's sudden moan full of pain and misery. "Please, stop THINKING about it!"

"Brain bleach, oh my God," I cringed. "Where's the Clorox?! I have decided I don't need my eyeballs-"

"Oooh," Tony's proverbial lightbulb lit up. The engineer sounded like he was about five seconds away from building a space ship and permanently moving to another planet. "They're together-together..." Tony intercepted me nonetheless, doing the most effective thing to make me stop speaking and thinking bullshit. He kissed me. With lots of tongue.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

[wheredostarsgowhenyoudie]

I know of a heart like yours.

The sickening sound of a heart being crashed

The animated laughter that sounded demented

The shivers and chills that tear from morning to night, then back again.

I know everything, kid.

I know how it feels to be breathing, but feel like the dead.

To have your eyes open and be reminded of what's no longer there

To miss someone so bad, they keep you lost in dreams

You can't hide anything from me.

I've been there.

I'm still there.

.

.

.

.

.

"What happened to you, kid?" You ask, and I stare.

How could I answer that without breaking?

Your haunted eyes pierce mine. The pain in them was so like my own, that I would have lost my footing if you weren't holding me.

I search for whatever strength was left inside of me, but the tears still flowed.

"You made me lose you."

CHAPTER ONE - WHO AM I TO YOU?

.

.

.

Sometimes the worst distractions do not come from the outside. They come from within you, and nothing anyone can do or say can pull your attention away from the invisible storm that only you can feel.

Peter Parker's heart is about to explode into a billion pieces of combustible dust. His head hurts. His throat feels dry and he could swear his saliva tastes like gravel in his mouth. His shoulders are bent and his legs and feet are firmly stuck to the ground, the weight of everyone's expectations keeping his whole body still, too still that not even Happy's murmured "Are you okay kid?" can bring him back out of the orchestrated walls created by his own mind.

He stays rigid, head bowed and eyes unblinking and blurry with unshed tears.

Blinding camera lights keep flashing all around him, the reporters rapidly firing their questions without pause. Pepper, Happy and Rhodey and the SI security team try their best to pacify them, but their efforts are in vain.

"Were you aware that Tony Stark planned to make you his successor?"

"What does it feel like to be the legacy of the saviour of the universe?"

"Mr. Parker, what are your plans for the future of SI?"

"Are you planning to be the next Iron Man?"

"Before the reading of Tony Stark's will, no one's ever heard of Peter Parker. Can you tell us why?"

"Why did Tony Stark hide you from the world?"

"Who are you to Iron Man?"

"How did you know Iron Man?"

"Why did Tony Stark choose you as his successor?"

"Do the Avengers know about you?"

"Peter, Peter, come on! Kid, we need to go," Rhodey's voice was pleading as he tries to usher them out while Happy shields them with his body.

Pepper urges the crowd to give them a path, going as far as to threaten them with lawsuits but they wouldn't even bulge.

Peter stays frozen through all the commotion.

Every breath feels like Thor's hammer plunging straight into his chest. Every second feels like an eternity too long. It would have stayed until…

"Mr. Parker, do you intend to follow your pseudo father's steps?"

Peter drew a gasp then, to everyone's shock and excitement.

His chin lifted from being glued to his chest, and his head turned to the reporter who asked.

The crowd quieted and they all waited in stunned silence as they were greeted with his red brimmed eyes, tears still fresh and pouring down his cheeks.

None of them expected the hollow laugh that came out of him.

How could they?

They couldn't possibly know that all these are news to him.

Peter knew nothing, thought he was nothing more than an annoying protégé to the man who apparently saw him as a son.

Peter didn't even know Tony Stark cared about him that way. He'd always let himself believe the man had only acted out of pity.

But now he knows, and he wanted to scream at how unfair it is to be told all these after the man had died.

He died for you.

He invented time travel because of you.

He risked it all for you.

He wouldn't have died if it weren't for you.

The voices inside his head are back with vengeance and Peter swayed and would have fallen without Rhodey there to steady him.

"You're going to be alright kid. We're going to bring you home safe and sound," the iron patriot promised in the same soft tone that everyone who knows his true relationship with Tony had been using since the end of the Infinity War.

Peter nodded but didn't speak. He could tell Rhodey believes his words, but Peter doesn't.

All his life, Peter's never really been a good liar. But this lie, even just thinking it is too much. He just couldn't.

"To Peter, my son…" the lawyer had said back in the boardroom as he read the last will and testament of Anthony Edward Stark.

"…I leave all my techs and Stark Industries, the latter to be received when you've graduated college and under the mentoring of my wife, Pepper Stark…"

"You back with us kid?" Happy's voice asked him this time, and he blinked to see that they had somehow managed to get him inside the limousine.

Peter bit his lip so hard, he tasted blood.

How could he be alright?

And where even is home?

He didn't even know he had one since May died. He felt barely alive when Tony took him in to live in the Tower. Even then, it had taken a while and a lot of angry outbursts from him, and patience from the man before Peter finally started to feel like he could build up the broken pieces of his life again. And then the fucking Infinity War happened and now…Now.

 

 

The glass shatters.

The car screeches to a halt.

Peter had punched the window, glass shards embedded in his hand when he pulled it back. Pepper shrieked in horror, while the men cursed.

Happy was yelling to get him out for some air, but Peter couldn't hear them, too busy having a panic attack.

"Breathe kid. Breathe with us," Rhodey encouraged. "You can do this. Just like Tony taught you, Peter. You got this kid. Do this for him."

And Peter breathed as if those were the magic words.

Because of course, he would. How could he not?

He'd do everything for Tony.

But Tony's gone now.

Just like his parents.

Just like his Uncle Ben and Aunt May.

And now Peter has no one.

For a boy who is no stranger to loss, this feels like the last straw keeping what's left of his sanity intact.

There are so many words he wanted to say to Tony, so many things he wanted to do with the man.

Now, he could only wonder what it feels like to be able to call Tony Stark "Dad" to his face.

He could have done it before, he supposes. He could have done so many things if only he'd known the man had adopted him and made him his legitimate heir.

But no one had ever told him. And just like every time, the universe was adamant to mess with his head and see him crumble.

Peter didn't even know he was more than a charity case to the man he saw as his mentor and hero.

Every time Tony did something parental for him, Peter thanked him but stomped down on the warmth inside his own chest. He convinced himself to believe it was all business for the man. Peter is Spider-Man. And Iron Man needed Peter to be Spider-Man so they could help save the world from chaos.

But Tony had made sure to let him know that he cared for Peter Parker as well. He never said it out loud, but Peter felt it evey time he'd ask about his day, about his friends, his classes and everything else important to him that isn't related to his alter ego. Tony had made sure to show up at his contests. He'd cheered for him and even treated him and his friends for a job well done. The man had spent nights in his room to calm him down from nightmares. He'd been there when he was sick, when he was wounded, when he was sad.

Peter was a mess, but Tony had been there for him to make sure he wasn't alone.

There were many times Peter wanted to cry to him, and just thank him for doing everything he'd been doing for him. But Peter held himself back. He held back because thanking Tony would give a name to their new normal. It would have overwhelmed him with a sense of family, and that more than anything, was the label that scares Peter the most.

Everyone he loved, everyone he saw as family, he had lost. And he couldn't do that to Tony.

Peter couldn't find it in him to believe that the man cared for him, truly loved him like family, in fear of adding a name to his long list of losses.

But he lost him anyway.

To Peter, my son, Tony had called him in his will, having chosen him as family if the adoption papers were anything to go by.

It was everything Peter had secretly wanted but never once believed he could have again.

But he had it. Apparently, he had even if he hadn't known.

Peter feels like a curse.

He really doesn't deserve to have anyone on his corner.

If Tony hadn't adopted him, he could have saved himself from the Peter curse.

Why did he even adopt him in the first place?

Why did he take him in?

He could have just offered money and paid for an apartment, but no. Tony insisted that Peter lived with him. And now he's dead because of Peter.

Tony Stark is dead, and Peter Parker's left trying to pick up the pieces left of his tattered heart and soul.

It's not even his first death of a family member, and yet this feels ten times worse for some reason he couldn't identify.

Mary and Richard Parker were lost in the plane crash when he was six. Ben Parker died in the mugging when he was fifteen. Then May Parker followed in a car accident a year later, half a year after he became Spider-Man.

You'd think that after four losses, Peter would be used to it by now.

But damn it all, he still isn't.

Losing someone never gets any easier no matter how many times it happened to him.

Thanos came with his army. The Snap happened and Peter died along with half the universe. Then it was reversed and Peter was brought back with all his fellow victims.

Peter had been shocked by Tony's reaction at seeing him alive. Tony Stark didn't cry. But at that moment, Peter felt his tears of joy and relief as he'd pulled him into a hug.

We're there, it screams. Like an echo in a whole room of silence, and for a second, only for a second, there was no war but only them. People broken and lost, but together, were mended by each other's presence.

If Peter had known how much the man cared for him then he would have hugged him tighter and not let go. But he hadn't and now he couldn't hug his mentor ever again.

Hours later after their short reunion, Anthony Edward Stark died saving the world and Peter feels like he died with him.

"Sssssh," whispered the soothing voice of Pepper as she pulled him into her arms. Peter could barely hear her through the noise of his guttural cries.

If only he was more conscious of his surroundings, he would have seen the pitying looks of the small crowd forming around them, would have heard his broken voice as he cried out the same word at the universe that took away everything he'd ever loved.

"Dad!" he sobbed, burying his face in Pepper's shoulder. "Bring him back! God, please bring him back!"

The rain started pouring.

The pain didn't stop.

Peter heard the voice again.

It never will.

A/N: Read the next chapters in the link below. Please don't forget to comment and leave kudos! 💞

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27332137/chapters/66779947

[sineala]

Hey Sineala, how are you 💐 I have come across many Tony Stark blogs and many are focusing on Tonys self-loath. It is pretty clear he is suffering from self-criticism, I can’t help but wonder why? I read his wiki page and it seems like from a young age he tried filling the void with alcohol, women and risky sports but does it all stem from the fact he feels guilty of weapon manufacturing? Thank you!

Hey, anon! So this is one of those areas where 616 actually differs a lot from MCU, because the answer to your question is that weapons manufacturing is eventually a thing Tony feels a great deal of guilt about, but it's not the origin of his self-loathing -- or even his superhero identity -- because he hated himself long before he started manufacturing weapons, and he actually continued manufacturing weapons for quite a long time after becoming Iron Man.

(I don't know MCU well enough to speak to whether Tony hates himself there, but he definitely hates himself in 616. It just has very little to do with weapons manufacturing -- or at least, while he is certainly capable of regretting his days as a weapons designer, it's not the root of all his problems or his drive to become a superhero. He's a superhero because he wants to save people, independently of whether he also wants to make weapons that kill people. Yes, it eventually occurs to him that these are two conflicting desires.)

The character of Tony Stark was created in 1963, and that was a time when attitudes toward the military-industrial complex were generally more positive than they are now, and definitely more positive among comics readers than they later became. Basically, Tony was a defense contractor and nobody had a problem with that. He was exemplifying the American dream! He was the best and most wonderful boss that anyone could be! He was, essentially, a fantasy of ethical capitalism. He was the guy who had it all. (And of course he was also Extremely Tragic because of his secret hidden disability, yes, so he really didn't have it all like everyone thought he did, but only he knew that.)

But then, Real Life happened, and the Vietnam War kept happening, and it kept getting more and more unpopular, and the people who read Iron Man comics started to not enjoy the fact that Tony kept making weapons. So Marvel changed that. In the mid-70s, Marvel ran an Iron Man arc involving Tony meeting a woman named Roxanne Gilbert, a pacifist who convinces him to stop making weapons. He changes the company name from Stark Industries to Stark International to reflect his new commitment. Iron Man v1 #78, from 1975, is the key issue you want to read here; it mostly consists of Tony thinking back to some of the horrors he saw in Vietnam and resolving that he's going to be a better man now and dedicate himself to peace.

It’s very touching, actually.

Keep in mind that this is 1975, so this happens more than ten real-life years after Tony debuted as a character. It took him a while to stop making weapons, is what I'm saying. (And even after then, people still try to force him back in -- this is in fact what Nick Fury tries to do to him in Demon in a Bottle, which is one of the things that leads to Tony’s massive drinking binge.)

When we see Tony talk about his weapons-manufacturing days at the beginning of Extremis (Iron Man v4 #1), he says that he doesn't intend to die as a weapons designer:

That entire interview sequence is definitely worth reading -- or even watching, if you prefer, since they made the Extremis arc into an animated cartoon -- if you want to see a modern take on Tony's approximately-current feelings about his weapon-designing days. Basically: he regrets a lot of things.

In fact, we know that one of the worst things that can happen to Tony these days is when people take his technology and use it as a weapon. And we know that because, well, that was the point of Armor Wars. Justin Hammer stole his tech and sold it to villains, and that's what started the whole catastrophe rolling there. And Tony, as you can see, is more than willing to beat himself up about it, here in Iron Man v1 #225:

And much later on, in The Five Nightmares, it is, literally, Tony's nightmare coming true when Zeke Stane uses Tony's repulsor technology to hurt people, as we see in Invincible Iron Man vol 1 #1:

(For MCU fans, I should point out that Zeke Stane is Obadiah's son looking for revenge, but also that, though 616 Obadiah Stane was very possibly the worst villain Tony ever faced, he is absolutely not the same as MCU Obadiah Stane and has very little in common with him.)

So, yes, he hates that this all happened, and he blames himself -- but it's not why he hates himself. Because Tony was sad and miserable long, long before he was Iron Man.

If you ask me -- and, hey, you did ask me -- I personally would be inclined to blame Tony’s self-loathing on the fact that Howard Stark was a horrible parent and was both emotionally and physically abusive toward Tony, and also was pretty much explicitly responsible for his alcoholism. Howard's shitty parenting continues to haunt Tony to this day. Sometimes literally.

(Incidentally, if anyone has a source for this one, could you tell me? I've been looking for it for years.)

So the Greatest Hits of Howard Stark, setting aside the part where he tried to sell Tony to Dracula (setting it aside because Tony is too young to remember that himself, and, yes, I swear this is canon), include such winning moments as That Time He Got Really Angry At Dinner And Was Clearly About To Get Violent, in Iron Man v1 #285:

(There is an issue somewhere in Fraction's run where a flashback shows him grabbing Tony's arms and Tony telling him he's hurting him, but I always misplace that panel, alas.)

Iron Man v1 #286 gives us the famous "Stark men are made of iron:"

In Iron Man v1 #287, we find out that Howard sent Tony to boarding school to toughen him up, because he was "sensitive" and "a coward;" you can see that Tony frames this as being "a disappointment" to his father:

And then there's Iron Man v1 #313, in which Tony recounts how he first started drinking as a child in an attempt to impress his father:

Yeah. So. I could go on, but you get the idea. Howard Stark really, really fucked Tony up. I mean, maybe Tony would have ended up hating himself anyway even if he'd been raised by a father who actually loved him and didn't do... anything like that. We can't know. But looking at the childhood he did get, this seems like a great way to raise a kid and ensure that they have massive, massive problems with ever feeling good enough, or loved enough, or, well, a whole lot of things.

So I think that's where all the self-loathing really comes from. It's not that Tony doesn't feel bad about having been a weapons manufacturer, or finding himself in a situation where things he invented are used for harm -- because he definitely does -- but that's not why he hates himself, deep down.

[lovelyirony]

strawberries & cigarettes by troye whatshisface but it's winteriron (idk if this is a prompt or just a statement you can take it as either)

Bucky doesn’t like the fact that he’s going to a stupid fucking private school. He doesn’t like that this is his mother’s sacrifice, that she stays up late with the bills and works another job so that he can go there and make a living. 

He doesn’t even know what he wants to do in life, that’s the thing. Mom thinks that he’s going to be a really good businessman and she doesn’t know that he smokes outside his window and sometimes just doesn’t retain any sort of information at school because he has to be good. 

“I sacrifice so much for you,” she tells him one night. “You need to make a good living for yourself. Promise me.” 

And he does. Hell if he knows how he’s going to keep it, but that’s the promise. 

- 

The one kid that he absolutely hates at school is Tony Stark. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth and a whole silverware drawer at the ready in case he doesn’t like the spoon. 

Tony’s kind of wealth is the kind that is so astronomically high that at some point you have to wonder what it means to him. Because it doesn’t seem to mean anything. 

He shows up in the shittiest sneakers he’s ever seen, held together with tape and drawn on by someone else. His hair is never styled, his uniform is never washed, and yet he just exudes that kind of confidence that comes with knowing that your life is better than anyone else’s, kind of. 

He’s also an ass in class. Correcting teachers, derailing the topic, and acting like it all is beneath him. 

They say he’s a genius, going to take over his father’s company. He has his future set in stone, and so there’s nothing else for him to learn. Bucky’s not really sure if he’s a genius or not, because he’s pretty sure a genius could figure out when to leave shit alone. 

Everyone at St. Anthony’s knows that Bucky is an individual who does well on his own. At most, you say hello and move on. He doesn’t talk to anyone, he makes sure he doesn’t look like he talks to anyone, and he’s said multiple times that he doesn’t want to talk to anyone. 

Tony Stark, however, talks. Doesn’t matter what the subject is, he talks. 

Bucky gets nicknames. Because of his...frigid demeanor, this means that Tony calls him shit like “Ice Pop,” “Icicle,” “Mr. Freeze,” and any other nickname that’s applicable to cold. 

“Hey Snowball,” Tony says in class. “You finished with your presentation for English class? Mine still sucks, although I’m sure it’ll be better than Hammer’s.” 

“That’s not saying a lot,” Bucky mutters. “At all. Now shut up. It’s class.” 

“We all know it’s going to be boring,” Tony says. “Sitwell has the personality of a tumbleweed, and you’re so much more interesting to talk to.” 

Bucky doesn’t respond to that. 

“Ah, so we’re at the no-talking stage, darling. I’ll make it up to you. Ice cream? Dinner? Elaborate cruise trip in summer?” 

Bucky rolls his eyes, and Tony quiets for roll call, but says one last comment. 

“I think I’m going to do the presentation in Comic Sans. Thoughts?” 

“I wish you didn’t have thoughts, then maybe you’d leave me alone.” 

Tony laughs. 

“You’re cute, Barnes. Cute. You know I don’t leave anyone alone.” 

- 

There’s a bad day. Bucky gets those sometimes. Every day of his life is a bad day, almost, but this one? The absolute worst. 

He had nightmares, barely got any sleep, and found out that his little sister used up the last of his shampoo, so he had to use his mom’s and now he smells like “Strawberry Paradise.” 

He hates the day, and it’s not even eight o’clock yet. 

Tony Stark, of course, makes it worse. He talks incessantly about something related to robotics or the weather or music or whatever, and Bucky just sees red. 

"Can you shut up for one fucking second of your life?” he hisses at him. “Oh my fucking god, it doesn’t matter. Nothing you say matters at all to me.” 

- 

Tony’s heard a lot of shit like that. Like, a lot. Probably worse. 

But for some reason, it’s hurting more coming from Bucky Barnes. 

Tony doesn’t shut up. He knows that. Everyone knows that. He has legitimately given people headaches. His dad has timed his talking and limited him to about two minutes. It would’ve been even less, but at family therapy they’re trying to work on “empathy for others.” 

(A crock of bullshit, because Tony’s fairly sure his dad doesn’t know what that is.) 

Bucky’s...he’s different. Sure, he hates Tony. Everyone does, and to be completely frank, Tony likes it that way. You know where you stand, how you can be interpreted if people only feel one thing about you. 

But Bucky is perhaps the only interesting person Tony knows at this hellhole of a school. He works really hard on his assignments, has more to work on than other kids. He looks frustrated at math equations, but stays and pores over textbooks after school. 

He brings a peanut butter and jelly sandwich every single day. Tony thinks the last time he had one was at a birthday party when he was twelve, and even then it wasn’t really a sandwich but more of a deconstructed concept thing that probably cost two hundred bucks a plate. 

- 

Now that Tony’s ruminating on it, it’s probably because no one has exactly told him that what he says doesn’t matter. They just say they don’t wanna hear about it. The two concepts are honestly very different. Tony has a sneaking suspicion that he is going to go into a tailspin about this on a Thursday night at two in the morning. 

Ha. On a Thursday night at two in the morning. What odd phrasing that is, why is that so weird? It’s night, but it’s morning and you’re supposed to be asleep but morning is a wake-up time, so--

Oh, there’s the meaning. 

Why would you discuss a night and a morning? Why does it matter? On a Thursday? 

Tony wonders how much shit he’s said that just ultimately doesn’t matter. 

This gets him thinking about how much nothing in his life matters. Don’t get him wrong, he knew it. 

Knew it in the way everyone tells him he’ll be the next Howard Stark. 

Knows it in the way that his own father isn’t exactly all too fond of him and Tony has a problem looking at anything with dear old Captain America because of comparisons that his father makes and honestly he probably almost named Tony “Steve.” 

Could you imagine him having the name of Steve? God, he’d barf. 

- 

For some reason, this is the worst he’s ever felt. Sure his father hates him and his mother could be considered an absentee at best, but what gets him to cry into his pillow and rethink his entire existence is a guy who has eye circles darker than anyone else’s and thinks that wearing any bright color is “branching out into alternative fashion.” 

God, he wishes he had a break. 

Nothing you say matters to me. 

This is the phrase that gets him. Tony is pretty sure it’s because it’s what everyone thinks. 

- 

Ever since then, Tony doesn’t talk to Bucky. Ever. 

And that’s...that’s weird to Bucky. It was routine. Tony annoys him, he snaps a bit, and then it starts all over. 

Tony looks at him, sometimes. As if he’s some sort of impossible problem he can’t figure out. 

When Bucky actually thinks about it, Tony hasn’t really talked to anyone. He’s still himself, which is irritating, but he’s not talking about anything and everything and filling up space. 

It’s...odd. 

He feels a little bit bad because what he said was super shitty and he shouldn’t have said it, but now it’s too late to just kind of awkwardly apologize, and Bucky’s already shit at apologizing anyway. 

- 

Summer arrives with a bang. School is let out ,and in comes the ninety-degree-days that melt your damn head off. Bucky’s apartment doesn’t have AC, so their windows are permanently open and fans are blasting as they swear they’re melting. 

Bucky needs a job. Preferably one with air conditioning. 

He finds one as a driver. Rich people hate taxis, it’s a huge health hazard or whatever they wanna say. He’s not gonna ask. But a nice man named Edwin hands him keys to a damn Cadillac and tells him not to drive too close to the other cars and be careful, because he wasn’t supposed to start the job quite yet, but “something came up.” 

- 

Tony fucking Stark. That’s who he’s fucking driving. 

“Oh my god,” Bucky groans. He sees Tony get into the car. 

“Hey, Jarvis told me I had a new driver, it’s really nice to--oh my fucking god.” 

“Where are you driving to.” 

“Queens.” 

“Queens, seriously?” 

Queens isn’t the type of place for someone like Stark to go to. He’s supposed to say Saks Fifth Avenue or Gucci or wherever the hell rich people go when they’re not vacationing in Europe or elsewhere. Not Queens. Especially not Queens. 

“It doesn’t matter where I’m going so long as you know where to drive,” Tony says. 

“Sheesh. Okay.” 

The rest of the drive is silent. It’s not like Bucky can do small-talk. Jesus, he’d rather take his other arm off than do that. 

And Tony, obviously, is not going to say anything. Not after hearing that stellar set of remarks from school. 

It’s a school. There are kids out front, who practically swarm the vehicle. 

“Should I be concerned?” 

“No, they do this every week. If you drive the car back home, Jarvis will explain more. You were kind of an ‘on the spot’ hire for us.” 

“Got it.” 

- 

Jarvis is a kindly old man who Bucky would trust with his Social Security number. 

He is also extremely loyal to Tony, at least. 

“He helps out with some after-school program at one of the local schools,” Jarvis says, smiling softly. “Has a spot in his heart for the children.” 

“What’s he do?” 

“Oh, helps them with schoolwork. I think he does some improvement type jobs around there, but he won’t let us know. Secretive, that one.” 

Bucky sips his tea and doesn’t say anything about how Tony once told everyone in the class that he was wearing neon yellow boxers and they were the comfiest damn boxers he had. It’s just not pertinent to this conversation. 

“You know him, Mr. Barnes?” 

“Um, yeah. We go to school together. I’ve seen him around.” 

“He’s a good student. Always getting straight A’s. Doesn’t always seem like it, but he listens well. Just has a different method.” 

“That’s for sure.” 

- 

For the next two weeks, it’s silence. Always. Bucky will turn on the radio and that’s it. The only thing that Tony has said is to “please change the channel to literally anything” when Belinda Carlisle’s infamously terrible “Heaven is a Place on Earth” came on. 

And that’s it. Seriously. 

When it is two weeks and four days, Bucky can’t take it anymore. 

“Look. I have this job for at least two more months. I’m talking to you. So tell me what you’re doing today.” 

“Teaching.” 

“Wow, way to be descriptive,” Bucky says sarcastically. 

Tony knows he shouldn’t throw it back in his face. But honestly, truly, this is pissing him off. 

“Oh I’m sorry, does what I say matter to you now? Is that what this is?” 

“Oh come on. That was months ago.” 

"Not the point!” Tony says. “I’m getting out now. Feel free to pick me up or not. I don’t give a fuck. But don’t you pretend for a damn minute that you give a shit about my reaction since you’ve already made your point.” 

The car door is slammed. 

Bucky is in somewhat of a pickle. 

- 

Sam tells him that he’s, quote, “the stupidest motherfucker on the planet.” 

And then hangs up. 

thank you for being such a good friend sam. really appreciate it. 

aw look at the little bitch boy mad because i called him stupid. shut up i’m on a date and don’t care once about you. at all. 

i think what i really like about our friendship is how open and empathetic you are to my feelings 

do you know how unattractive you are? on a scale of one to ten? prussia.  

you can’t count now? 

no i can count i’m just saying you shouldn’t exist. 

god i hate you. i’ll talk to you next month

(Yes, they have a time limit to texts. Once a month. And Bucky used his to try to get advice like an idiot. He should’ve just asked Steve. Steve probably would’ve sent him money for a milkshake.) 

- 

Sharon, upon reading his text, sends him back one message: 

so i read this but i’m not emotionally invested. can u make a playlist and send it to me? 

oh my god. you have got to be kidding me. 

i’m not. i told you that u need to b more creative in life. b spontaneous!!! 

He leaves her on read after that. 

- 

Bucky has to figure out how to apologize. Genuinely. Because nothing’s worse than having an apology made but knowing that the person isn’t really meaning it, they’re only saying it to make people more comfortable. 

(He wonders how many times someone’s apologized to Tony because of this reason.) 

He’s not exactly sure how to go about apologizing. 

But he figures it’s sooner rather than later, so he takes the subway to Manhattan and then gets a bike (that’s not exactly his, but he’s bringing it back) and starts the trek to the mansion. It’s a good and solid thirty minute bike ride. 

- 

Tony is having a rather uncomfortable family birthday dinner. Howard’s, to be specific. He’s not sure why they didn’t just go out, but maybe his father is tired of acting like a happy family in public. God knows Tony is. 

(“What’s your favorite thing about your son?” An interviewer had asked cheerily, blush lipstick stretching widely as she smiled. 

“Well, it’s certainly not his sense of style,” Howard had joked. 

He didn’t know what his favorite thing about his son was. He couldn’t answer the fucking question.) 

Jarvis mentions that “Sir Anthony” has a visitor at the door. 

“Are you serious, kid?” Howard says, hissing. “You told someone to come over? During a family event?” 

"No, of course not,” Tony says hurriedly. He doesn’t have anyone over to the house period. Too much risk, not enough payoff. There was also the fact that the house is basically like a mausoleum because both of his parents would rather be caught dead than spend time in one another’s company anymore. 

“I’ll go...I’ll go check who it is.” 

- 

Bucky. Fucking. Barnes. 

“What are you doing here?” Tony hisses. 

“I came to apologize.” 

“For what?” 

“For telling you that your words don’t matter?” Bucky says, more of a question. “I don’t know what else I would apologize for. Maybe for mean-mugging you. I don’t know.” 

“Why?” Tony asks, tiredly. “Why would you apologize for that?” 

“Because it’s obviously affecting you and also I know I was in the wrong? That’s why people apologize?” Bucky answers. “What I did was shitty. What you say matters, I was just having a shitty day and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. It obviously stuck with you a lot longer than I thought it would. So now I’m apologizing.” 

No one besides Jarvis has ever apologized to Tony. Ever. Not in a genuine way. 

“Did you...did you bike here? You have a bike?” 

“What? No.” 

“You walked here?” Tony asks, incredulous. 

“Of course not, then I’d be arriving, like, an hour later. No, the bike isn’t mine.” 

“Who’s is it?” 

“I don’t know, some hipster’s from Brooklyn.” 

“You stole a bike?” 

“The circumstances weren’t ideal, but I don’t have a car to drive to your freakishly large house,” Bucky said bluntly. 

Tony grins. 

“Well then, Buckster, welcome. Let me give you a ride home.” 

He pokes his head into the dining room, where the plates are already being cleared. 

“Hey, I gotta give my friend a ride home. Car broke down a couple miles from here.” 

“Why don’t you just fix it?” Howard asks. “You’re a Stark.” 

“A Stark who would need to order a part for a 1980 Ford Crown Victoria.” 

“Tell him to get a better car.” 

“Sure, pops.” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Alright, Dear Father of Mine.” 

“Just go, damn it!” 

- 

Bucky is led to a garage full of luxury cars that probably cost more than his whole block put together. 

“Which one you wanna go in?” 

“Am I allowed in one of these? Holy fuck these are nice.” 

Tony grins. 

“Best part about having a car is driving it. Choose one.” 

Bucky chooses a bright red car, a smooth Cadillac. 

“Holy hell, this is cool.” 

Tony drives. 

He’s a good driver once you get past the fact that you will fear for your life for at least twenty minutes. He is also notoriously terrible in the city traffic, yelling at drivers and pedestrians alike. 

“How are you still alive with the way you drive?” Bucky asks. 

“We made it, didn’t we?” Tony asks, grinning. “Now go return your bike and don’t try to walk to my house again.” 

“See you tomorrow?” 

“Naturally.” 

- 

Tony talks a lot. But Bucky finds himself listening. It still takes a while, but he talks. 

Tony really is smart. His mind just works quickly, and that’s why at school he never really seems to absorb anything. 

Bucky tells him about his neighborhood and how much he hates his neighbor because she keeps blasting music at one in the morning. 

“So? Blast it in the morning,” Tony says. “That’s what I’d do.” 

“Ma would say no.” 

“Then don’t tell her!” 

- 

When it all changes, it’s when Bucky picks him up from a gala. He gets the following text: 

pls come pick me up!! please! i’m begging! 

It’s eleven at night, but Bucky sighs and goes to get the car and goes to pick him up. 

Tony’s swaying outside. Bucky gets out, getting a pack of Marlboro out of his jacket. 

“Shouldn’t smoke,” Tony says. 

“You drunk?” 

“No, can’t risk it when Howard and Maria aren’t here--mom and dad.” 

He almost never calls his parents mom and dad. Ever. Only in public settings. 

Bucky lights up anyway. Tony stares at the orange embers flaring up. 

“Why did you need a ride?” 

“Kind of avoiding an old...enemy. Slash ex-boyfriend.” 

“The worst kind of enemy to have. He trying to talk to you?” 

“It’s been an all-night event, so--” 

The doors burst open. 

Out walks the sleaziest guy that Bucky’s ever seen. His suit is garishly designer, the kind that borders on being confused for a tacky suit that you find in a thrift store for two dollars total. 

“Tony, baby! Where have you been? I wanted to discuss things with you...in private.” 

He gives Bucky a once-over. 

“And who are you, catering?” 

Bucky immediately wants to clock this guy in the damn mouth. 

“Actually this is James, my boyfriend,” Tony says, snaking his arm around Bucky’s waist. 

At this point, he’ll just have to go with it. It’s not the worst thing that’s happened. 

“And who are you?” Bucky asks. “Sweetheart, you never mentioned you knew someone with such a...unique take on style.” 

“I’m Ty, an old and close friend,” he says. He sticks his hand out. Bucky makes him switch hands by holding out his metal hand. 

“Nice to see you,” he says. “But unfortunately, I have to take my guy back home. Plans and all that, you know how it is.” 

“Bye Ty!” Tony says. 

Bucky throws an arm around Tony’s shoulders, bringing him close. A ghost of a kiss to the forehead completes the lie, and Bucky looks back towards Ty, who has his eyes narrowed. 

He flips him off with his right hand. (It’s satisfying.) 

“Thank you so much for going along with that,” Tony says, looking up. 

The cigarette is still in his mouth. He takes a drag, letting embers fall down and disintegrate into the pavement. 

“He seemed like a shitty kind of person.” 

“Not the best of people, that’s for sure,” Tony mutters. “You wanna go get ice cream?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” 

- 

Getting late night ice cream is like going into a different dimension. Bucky’s not sure if it’s the overbearing, fluorescent white light that gets to him, but Tony seems tired. At ease, but tired. 

He gets strawberry ice cream, and Bucky gets chocolate. 

They sit and eat for a moment. 

“Why do you go to St. Anthony’s?” Tony asks. “It’s clear you hate it.” 

“You don’t?” 

“Not the worst school I’ve been sent to.” 

“You don’t want to be there either?” 

“There are a lot of places I don’t want to be, but this isn’t about me, I’m asking about you. You wanna share with the class or get a hall pass?” 

Bucky snorts. 

“Geez, okay. My mom really wants a good education for me.” 

"She know that you don’t know what to do?” 

“And how do you figure that?” Bucky asks, eyebrow raised. 

“You wouldn’t be working as a chauffeur for the rich kid if you knew what you were working towards,” Tony says with a shrug. “Seen it happen before. Usually I don’t know who they are, but you figure out commonalities pretty quickly.” 

That makes too much sense. 

“I have no fucking clue how I’m living my life and my mom wants me to become a businessman.” 

“You wanna do that?” 

“Do I look like the kind of guy that wants to wear a suit?” 

“You look like you’d look good in a suit, not that you’d wear one.” 

Bucky laughs. Takes a bite of ice cream, and readjusts the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. 

- 

Over the summer, he and Tony get closer. They take walks in the park and Tony drags him into overpriced shops to look at clothes that are the ugliest goddamn things they’ve ever seen. 

At some point, they hold hands and discuss secrets of the world of theirs that is unique to them. 

Bucky kisses him one night while they’re just leaving perhaps the worst restaurant in the entire state of New York and god Tony didn’t think he’d ever not mind being wrapped up in fake-strawberry scented hair and cigarette smoke clinging to clothing, but he doesn’t mind it. 

The whole summer, they’re inseparable. Tony chatters in the front seat of the car, now, and Bucky smiles a little bit more. 

They walk in parks together and show each other funny little jokes and make inside understandings and look at sunsets and sunrises and get coffee and look at each other across the room. 

- 

It’s love, honest and true. But it’s not love like the never-ending kind. The thing about love is that it is not included in any toolbox, physical or mental. There is one thing that everyone knows regardless of whether it is admitted or not: 

Love does not solve everything. It does not fix everything. And one should never rely on it to do anything but exist and work through your person to the best of its ability. 

- 

Howard comes back from a business trip. Sees Tony kiss Bucky goodbye, and that is that. 

You can’t something like that as a son. It just...it won’t work for business. 

Tony is sent to a boarding school upstate. Stricter guidelines, more controlling. 

Bucky only hears one thing from Tony: 

I’m sorry. 

And he doesn’t believe it. 

When you’re young, you think love is invincible. You think it survives through everything if you really want it to. 

Love doesn’t do that. 

Bucky writes letters, calls Jarvis, and mourns the loss of young love. He smokes a little bit more, leaves it clinging to his skin as a reminder that Tony would always wrinkle his nose in that adorable way, but it served to show Bucky that he had a bad habit. 

He was in the middle of quitting. 

His mother notices it. 

Tells him that he needs to get his own shampoo. 

“You can’t just use mine all the time,” she says playfully. 

He remembers Tony’s hands gently threading through his hair in disbelief as Bucky kissed the living hell out of him. 

Now there’s barely any trace. 

He stops in his tracks when he sees an old coffee cup of Tony’s in his kitchen cabinet. 

“When did you get this one?” Becca asks. She’s drinking out of it. He remembers Tony smiling over it at their little coffee shop that was hidden away. “I love it. It’s so cute.” 

“From a thrift store,” Bucky says. “You can have it.” 

“Really? Thanks!” 

- 

Tony pauses at the smell of cigarette smoke. Remembers blue eyes blazing along with orange embers, smoke curling around long hair and long summer nights. 

His roommate at this new school asks if he smokes, if he can get him a pack. 

“Uh, no. Just used to know someone who did.” 

“You think they could get me a pack?” 

“They don’t go here.” 

“You can’t call them?” 

Tony doesn’t respond. 

You can’t call them? 

He’s almost texted him about twenty times. Called him about thirty. 

He knows the number by heart. 

But he knows that Howard made him get a new phone, and now the memories are fading. He wishes he still had the pictures. 

- 

Love does not always last. Sometimes it is not meant to. Tony tries to tell himself that as he wakes up with tears streaming down his cheeks. 

You always wish it would. 

[mshermia]

No.23 - Just Outside The Door

Whumptober 2020 Prompt No. 23 - What's a Whumpee Gotta Do To Get Some Sleep Around Here

Exhaustion | Narcoplepsy | Sleep Deprivation

Peter did it. He found his mentor and brought him back, but sometimes it all just seemed too good to be true. Sometimes, his mind played tricks on him and he just couldn't sleep, wondering if he had really brought Mr. Stark back or if it had all just been a desperate dream.

###

I'm using my own Fix-it to Endgame "Like You'd Know How It Works" as a basis for the timeline, though the prompt will work fine without having read that story. The important part is, that Tony's not dead.

Baseline: a few days after Tony is brought back from the multiverse.

###

AO3 Link

###

His room was dark. In fact, the entire house was dark as it should be at 1 o'clock at night. Dark and quiet. It wasn't the darkness that bothered Peter. It wasn't total darkness. After all, the light of the moon still shone brightly enough for him to make out the little imperfections in the paint on the ceiling. The moonlight and his enhanced senses. It was the quiet that bothered him, that made his chest seem a little too tight, his breathing a little ragged. It had been just 3 days since Mr. Stark had enhanced the walls in the upstairs bedroom and ever since when Peter was lying awake at night, when a nightmare pulled him out of his sleep in the early morning hours like it had the past days, he couldn't hear his mentor anymore.

He was just a couple of doors down. Logically, he knew that. Logically, he was... he was pretty certain of that. And while Peter had always stopped himself from listening in on anything too personal, there was just a sense of calm that came over him when he heard the man turn in his bed, the low snores he sometimes pushed out, the steady beat of his heart. He would have to concentrate and really listen for the familiar rhythm but once he would pick it up, he'd be okay. He'd remember that Mr. Stark was right there, well, and very much alive.

But not anymore.

There was only silence in his room now unless you were to count the frantic beat of his heart and the deep shaky breaths he sucked in and blew back out. It hadn't even been a nightmare this time, not truly. He hadn't really fallen asleep in the first place. Exhaustion was tugging at the edges of his consciousness and that's where his thoughts had started to spiral.

Mr. Stark was okay. Peter was... he was pretty sure of that. He had succeeded, had brought him back home and now he was okay. But there was a little voice in the back of his head that kept nagging, that kept telling him that maybe... maybe he was wrong. Maybe it had all been a delusional dream, too good to be true, Peter wishing something into reality that was unobtainable. He had seen his mentor die after all. He had died right in front of him, the memory etched into his memory, right there whenever he closed his eyes. Dimensions, time travel... was that really real?

A cold shiver ran down his back and before he knew it, his feet had swung off the bed, silently carrying him to the Stark's bedroom door.

Peter was highly aware that this was a little creepy at best and highly inappropriate at worst. Only for a moment. He wouldn't stay for long. He just needed a few minutes to... to quiet the nagging doubts that were persistently working its way up from the back of his mind overwhelming any rational thought.

As he sunk down to the ground and came to sit his back leaning on the frame, he pressed his ear against the door. There were just enough sound waves vibrating along the sturdy wood for him to hear. It had been a little pathetic how he had come to realize that. How three nights ago at 4 o'clock in the morning he had stolen out of his room and crawled up to the door, out of his mind in panic from the nightmare that had roused him. He had clung to the wood and heard the soft snores on the other side that hadn't been Pepper's.

He could hear them now too, both of them. Peter closed his eyes, letting the noises from the room wash over himself and calm his nerves. Two healthy hearts beating almost in union, deep breaths - a little elevated maybe but nothing critical - and Mr. Stark's low raspy voice, only a whisper. He couldn't quite tell what his mentor had said but the corners of his mouth twitched as Pepper breathlessly giggled in response. They were fine. Mr. Stark, he was right there, talking and moving around if the creaky sounds of the bed were anything to go by he was—

Peter's eyes popped open wide and with a fast push, he shoved himself away from the door. There had been so much force behind his movements that he slammed into the sideboard that stood right opposite the Stark's bedroom door. His heart was beating loud in his ears but his senses were dialed up all the way. He could almost feel Pepper's vases on top of the sideboard swaying back and forth from the impact. Thank god for his senses. His hand reached out faster than his thoughts could follow and caught the first vase as it tumbled towards the ground. He caught the second one, too, but well, despite the spider bite, he still only had two arms to work with.

The third vase fell to the floor and exploded into a thousand pieces just next to him.

For a brief moment, Peter was frozen in shock. For a brief moment, he thought maybe... maybe the soundproofed walls would save him. Maybe nobody had heard.

There was a little light that streamed into the hallway from the Stark's bedroom. "Pete?" His mentor's voice was raspy as his head peaked through the open gap, looking down at him. "You... you okay?"

Peter hurried, his face hot with embarrassment as he tried to gather the shards in the low light of the hallway. "Sorry... sorry!"

"What... what happened? Why are you out here in the dark?"

"Nothing, I just... just needed the bathroom and... and bumped... just... bumped this."

Mr. Stark cleared his throat. "You know, that room of yours has an en suite."

"I... I didn't..." Peter's hands were shaking, his thoughts racing. "I meant... meant kitchen. Just wanted— fuck!"

"Hey, you okay? FRI, lights 30%."

The man leaned over him and reached for Peter's hand. The low light from the ceiling was enough to reveal the dark blood flowing along his skin where he had just cut himself on a pointy porcelain shard.

"Is everything okay?" Of course, Pepper had to poke her head out of the door as well.

"Everything's alright. Go back to bed, darling." Mr. Stark's hand on his shoulder pushed him a little, a clear sign for Peter to get on his feet. "Come on. Kitchen then."

Pepper gasped. "Peter, you're bleeding!"

"It's fine, darling. I'll take care of this." Mr. Stark pulled him towards the stairs. "You... just... just go to sleep."

Mr. Stark exchanged a look with his wife, his face almost apologetic while Peter's was on fire. He hesitated only for a second though before he followed his mentor. Definitely preferable to have only of the two adults hover over him in the kitchen than both of them in the hallway. There was enough light now for Peter to easily find his way towards the stairs and then down to the kitchen. His heart was beating in his throat as he desperately racked his brain for an excuse.

"Little more light, FRI." FRIDAY didn't answer, just followed the man's order. "Run that hand under some cold water and then take a seat, buddy."

"Right," Peter muttered.

The cold water was soothing the sting on his hand. The shard had cut the index and middle finger on his left, the two middle parts, and then there was a deep gash in his palm. It was bleeding freely now and Peter watched almost mesmerized as his blood was swirling down the drain mixed in with the water. The cut was deep enough to hurt, nothing that his body wouldn't be able to deal within a day or two though, three max. Mr. Stark had put down a paper towel for him next to the sink. When Peter's face felt it had mostly regained his original color again, he pressed the paper towel against his hand and shuffled onto one of the bar chairs at the kitchen island.

His mentor had his back turned while he had halfway vanished into the pantry. A little red first aid kit in his hand, he joined Peter at the table. His head was bent, not looking up at the man in front of him. His thoughts were racing, trying to think of something, some kind of excuse as to why he was wandering around the house in the middle of the night, something better than the vague bathroom-kitchen excuses he had blurted out in the hallway.

"Having trouble sleeping, hm?" It was a rhetorical question, that much was clear. Mr. Stark's hands were busy rummaging through the kit until he came up with a couple of anti-bacterial wipes, gauze, and some medical tape. "What's on your mind, kid?" His voice was low and calm, making an effort to keep the mood light.

It didn't change anything about Peter's heart racing of course. Didn't do anything about the blood pulsing in his ears. "I wasn't... I wasn't trying to..." He sounded pathetically breathless even to himself. "I just... I happened to... to walk by and then I just—"

Mr. Stark's hands were warm. They felt even warmer with the chill that the water had left Peter's hand with. One hand curled around Peter's wrist then squeezed him. "Kid, you know I can tell when you're fibbing."

"I... I'm just..."

Another squeeze of his arm and Peter looked up, finding the man's eyes waiting for him. "Nightmares?"

He couldn't lie, not when Mr. Stark had that piercing look in his eyes. "Just... just the usual."

His mentor cocked his head only a fraction to the side. "Titan?"

Goosebumps spread through him starting at his nape down his back, then along his arms. Even Mr. Stark could feel it for his eyes flickered down to where he was still holding Peter's wrist, then back to his face.

"It's... it's not that," Peter whispered. It wasn't even a lie. It hadn't been the orange dust ball that had kept him up, not tonight.

"Kid..." The man blew out a breath, eyebrows pulled closely together.

"I... I swear, it's... it's not!" He almost flinched back at that look in the man's eyes that gleamed an awful lot like disappointment.

Mr. Stark looked away from his face only long enough to find a piece of gauze and replace the soaked paper towel, applying firm pressure to his wound. "You don't sleep."

"I do sleep, tonight was just—"

"Your vitals tell a different story, Pete," his mentor interrupted.

Peter's mouth popped open. There was something other than adrenaline and embarrassment rushing through his veins now. Shock and... and a pinch of betrayal. "You... you have FRIDAY monitor my vitals? Karen?"

"Both of them, actually." Mr. Stark didn't look away from him, only gave his shoulders a slight shrug. "Do I have a choice?" Peter would have turned away from him if the man hadn't still been pressing the gauze to the cut in his hand. "You were snapped and then went on a trip through the Quantum Realm. Of course, I'm monitoring your vitals."

"I'm fine!" His voice was squeaky. He sounded fake even to himself.

"Pete... Talk to me. Is it nightmares or is it something else?"

"Can we just... I don't want to do this right now."

"Alright." Mr. Stark looked away from him. He pulled the blood-soaked gauze off Peter's hand and replaced it with a fresh piece.

This seemed too simple to be true but Peter was going to take it. "O-okay. Good."

"FRI, schedule a call with Helen for tomorrow morning. We need an appointment for Peter. CC Rhodey and... and might as well let Rogers know."

"No. Mr. Stark—"

The man shook his head, eyes on Peter's hand. "You don't have to talk to me about all this. That's fine. You'll talk to someone though. You'll not go out there until this is resolved."

"What? You can't be serious...." Peter pulled his hand away from the man at last.

"I am."

"Are you grounding me?"

His mentor's eyes were on him as he shrugged his shoulders then sighed. "I mean not like... to your room just out of the suit."

Peter got to his feet. "But Mr. Stark—"

"You won't be out there Avenging anything until you've talked to someone about what happened the last time you went out there. That decision's final."

His hand forgotten, Peter paced back and forth between the table and the sink. It wasn't until he rubbed his hands across his face with a frustrated grunt that he remembered the cut. He cursed freely, not just because of the sting in his hand but because he had rubbed blood all over his face. Shaky hands turned on the faucet and for a moment, he was almost thankful for the mishap that had forced him to wash his face for his eyes were burning with frustrated tears.

"Kid, come and sit with me." The man's voice was way too calm, it riled Peter up even more.

"I don't want to!"

"You don't want to sit with me?" He could almost hear in Mr. Stark's voice how his eyebrows must have been pulled up high, his head cocked a little to the side.

"I don't want to talk about this with Rhodey, or Doctor Cho. Definitely, definitely not with Rogers! It's none of his business!"

"Kid, come on..."

"No!" He turned around, facing the man. "You don't get to make those decisions anymore! You're retired!"

"I'm not that retired!" The men went for a light-hearted smirk that surely was meant to calm Peter but only infuriated him more.

"Yes! Yes, you are!"

"Are you firing me from being your mentor?"

Peter froze. Mr. Stark's voice wasn't all that soft any longer and the gravity of the situation suddenly hit Peter all at once. "N-no. No, I—"

"Well, it's not like I want you to talk to them instead of me, but if you don't want to talk to me you leave me with very few options, Peter."

"I'm fine. I... I promise it's—"

"You sat in front of my bedroom door in the middle of the night, Pete." The man shook his head.

"I was... was just being... stupid. I just... just overreacted a bit, I don't—"

"Kid... Come." He pointed at the bad stool next to him. "Come and sit."

Peter swallowed hard. This was so dumb. What had he been thinking? His head bowed low, he slowly shuffled back over to the table and let himself fall back onto the chair. Mr. Stark took his hand again and pressed another fresh piece of gauze onto his cuts. The bleeding had slowed considerably, but Peter couldn't deny that it made him feel a whole lot better how his mentor literally held his hand through all this. It was a little pathetic and childish, but also... also grounding and soothing.

"I... I can't sleep," Peter whispered.

"I know, buddy." The man's other hand squeezed his lower arm. "It's okay."

"I do... I do have nightmares but it's..." He blew out a breath, eyes still low on his hand. "Sometimes, I just can't... can't quite tell what's a nightmare or... or a dream and what's real and if... if all this now, if... if this is just the dream. That's.... that's the worst part."

His lower lip was caught between his teeth and Peter risked a quick look to find his mentor's eyes shining with concern, waiting for him to continue.

"I can't..." He shook his head. "This is so stupid. It's... I'm just being dumb, you really—"

"Hey..." Mr. Stark's hand cupped his face and tilted it up so Peter's eyes would meet his. "You are not being dumb and none of this is stupid."

"I..." Peter tried to swallow the tears that were threatening to overcome him. "I can't... hear you anymore. Since you... since you soundproofed the walls."

"Yeah, well..." The man frowned at him. "That... that was sort of the point, kid."

"I... I know. It's just I..." He turned his eyes to the side, hating how the teardrops were already hanging onto his lashes. "When I wake up and then I don't... I don't hear you then it's like... like before. Like you're.... you're not here and I just... I can't... I can't." He couldn't stop himself from blinking any longer and at last, the tears fell heavy onto his cheeks. "I'm sorry. It's weird. I know, it's super weird."

"Is that why you were in front of our door?"

He wanted to pull away but Mr. Stark still cupped his face, unwilling to let him retreat even an inch. "It's... it's stupid. I don't..."

"Shhh, stop saying that." His hand moved from Peter's face to his neck and a quick tug pulled Peter into a tight hug.

He pressed his eyes tightly shut, his voice muffled against the man's t-shirt. "I can... I can hear you there. Right... right at the door, I'm close enough even with... with the soundproofing. I can still hear you there."

"I'm right here, buddy." His hand was on the back of Peter's head, the other one squeezed his hand almost too strongly. "I'm not going anywhere."

They stayed like that for a while. Peter leaned heavily against him, hiding his tears in the tight embrace. Mr. Stark didn't do much other than hold him and from time to time whisper to him that they would be okay, that he was back now, and how everything would be alright. He repeated those words over and over again like they would stick the more times he'd say them. And maybe that was true. Maybe that was why Peter's pulse slowed down, why his tears dried against the man's shirt, why he calmed enough for Mr. Stark to get back to treating his hand.

Mr. Stark nodded to himself. "Okay, so here is what we'll do from now on." The antibacterial wipes burned and the man froze at Peter's hiss. "Too much? You okay?"

Peter cleared his throat. "I'm fine," he croaked and then grimaced at the sound of his own voice. "Really, I'm fine."

"I know it burns a bit but it's just a moment and we can't have this get infected, okay?"

"I know, Mr. Stark. Just... it's fine."

Peter's eyes were turned down watching as the men wiped the large cut a couple more times, before he first secured gauze over it, then wrapped it in a bandage and proceeded to tape the two smaller cuts on his fingers.

"Okay, two things... Pete, can you look at me?"

"Right," he breathed, his eyes finding his mentors.

"First of all," the man blew out a bit of a sigh. "I think we need to transition away from that 'Mr. Stark' of yours."

His eyes went wide. "But, Mr. Stark—" Peter bit his tongue.

His mentor on the other hand flashed a crooked smile. "Yeah, I thought you might try to fight me on that one."

"I'm not..." Peter shook his head, eyes still round. "I'm not fighting you, I just... it's... you're... you're my mentor and—"

"I am and I'm happy to mentor you for as long as you'll have me." The soft expression on the man's face was comforting and pulling at Peter's nerves in equal measure. "Kid, I'm not really worried about any lack of respect from you going forward. It wasn't..." The man blew out a low huff. "It wasn't my intern that I missed those past years. Though... it's not that I didn't miss that part, I mean..." He crossed his arms in front of himself, eyebrows raised. "It was more work than reward trying to teach Morgan to carry a cup of coffee down here, I can tell you that."

Peter snorted out a light laugh and rubbed his good hand across his eyes.

"It wasn't my intern or... or Spider-Man who I missed, just... just my kid. Just you, Pete."

12 days. Not even 12 days, that was how long his mentor had been lost to him. 5 years? Peter couldn't, well... maybe he could. In a way. He didn't want to think of Ben now though, of his mom and dad.

His mentor blew out a low sigh. "Also, Morgan has started to call me 'Mr. Stark' and just... try with 'Tony'? Please?"

Peter bit his lip, then shrugged. "What if she starts calling you Tony then?"

"Well..." He shrugged. "I just thought that going from 'Mr. Stark' to 'Daddy' might be a bit much to ask of you."

Peter couldn't contain the nervous laughter that bubbled out of him. "I'll never call you that. That's just... no way!"

His mentor's smile stayed on his lips but Peter could shake the feeling that there was an air of disappointment between them.

"That's okay, buddy. Let's stick with 'Tony' then, hm?"

"Right," Peter breathed.

"The other thing... your nightmares. I... I can't really... I can't have you lurking in front of our bedroom door for reasons that... that we don't have to get into right now." He grimaced and Peter could have sworn there was a faint red flush on his cheeks. "But if you can't sleep or if you wake up and you need me—"

"It's... it's fine, Mr—" Peter pressed his eyes close with a cringe. "Tony. It's fine, really, I was just—"

"Hey." His mentor had leaned forward, both hands on Peter's lower arms. There was no hint of humor or reserve in his features now. "This is not a polite offer, kid. This is an assignment. Instructions to be followed."

Peter swallowed hard, his voice cracking. "Yes, Sir."

He didn't even flinch at all as the honorific slipped over Peter's lips, just stared right at him. "I want to help you. I want to be here for you, whenever you need me. That's why you brought me back, right?" His eyes were searching Peter's face for a reaction. "You said that you all still needed me. Morgan and Pepper. And you. That's why I came with you, kid."

Peter's eyes were burning, the memories still fresh from how he had begged and pleaded with the man to trust him, to abandon his mission and come back home with him.

He squeezed Peter's arms, his face still tense. "I want you to tell FRIDAY when you have these nightmares or... or when you panic. I'll find you. I'll sit with you."

"You don't..." He shook his head at the very idea. "You don't have to sit with me."

"Pete..."

"I'm not a kid anymore!"

"You are my kid, kid..."

Peter's mouth fell shut at that. The man's voice was soft, so earnest.

"Just let me help you."

"Okay," Peter breathed.

"When you're not here, when you're at May's or anywhere else, I want you to call."

Peter nodded, his eyes on his mentor's hands. They were still closely curled around Peter's arms but he couldn't deny that it felt more grounding than restricting.

"Promise me."

Peter sucked in a shaky breath before he looked up. "I do, I... I promise, I will."

They stared at each other for a long moment before Mr. Stark's hand reached up and rested on Peter's cheek just long enough for the man to nod at him. "Okay, buddy. Come on then."

Peter didn't have to ask what his mentor was up to, he had a pretty good idea of what would be happening now. His head bowed, he followed along, back upstairs to his room, his thoughts still circling around his mentor's order. That's what it had been, not an offer, not even a request. It had been left unsaid between them what would happen if Peter didn't ask for help, but he could make an educated guess that those consequences would not just be discussed between the two of them.

His bed was cold as he slipped back underneath the covers. Mr. Stark— Tony had closed the bedroom door behind Peter and pulled a chair close to his bed. His feet crossed and elevated on Peter's bed, he had sunk into the chair, one hand resting on the top of Peter's head.

The house was quiet now. His room too, except for the beat of his own heart and that of his mentor. The idea had seemed excessive and childish but now that Peter was lying in the dark, the man's fingers knotted in his hair, he couldn't deny how easy it was to close his eyes. How easy it was to remember that the man was here, alive and well. How all that pain and loss was in the past now.

He had just wanted to blow out a deep breath to settle himself but it wavered in his throat, came out like a bit of a whimper.

"Shhh." Mr. Stark's fingers rubbed back and forth over Peter's scalp. "I'm right here."

"I... I know." Tears rolled off his face into his pillow as Peter pressed his eyes close, his focus on the weight of his mentor's hand. His voice was shaky but what did that matter now? "I'm just... just happy you're back."

"Me too, buddy," he whispered. "Me too."

### 

I finally managed to write an actual One-Shot. A little amazed with myself, not gonna lie ;)

Hope you liked it! More whump and more for this timeline will come soon!

The Fix-it this is based on: Like You'd Know How This Works