#tony: he's so bright................... *puts sunglasses to hide how much he loves his kid (and failing)*

[irondad-defensesquad]

if tony truly didn't care about peter, then why would he let peter keep the suit? bc if it was rlly just about cap, tony would've dropped off the kid home without anything. but no, he let peter keep the case bc he wanted his kid to be safe.

i'm not ok.

[starkerforlife6969]

Starker - Gone

tw angst, mentions of drinking- but a happy ending. 

It’s done.

It’s finished.

Tony realises it a little suddenly. Feels cold and hollow all over. Riddled.

Dusk has just gone, and the fresh darkness seeps in through the windows. The penthouse is empty. It’s just him and his perfect furniture and his state of the art, pioneering technology.

Peter’s gone.

Of course, he’s been gone for months now. Shuffled out, head held irritatingly high, face drawn tight, stuff in boxes, and stayed with his aunt.

Whatever, Tony thinks bitterly, the kid’s 300 million dollars better off, he’ll buy a nice beach house somewhere and Tony will never see him again.

Mr. Wobbles, the fucking awful cat, is gone too. He was Peter’s Tony had realised, even as he’d argued for it over the glass table.

“Yours!” Peter had screeched, making the lawyers on both sides wince. Making Tony smirk victoriously, finally, at having gotten a reaction. “I adopted him, Tony. Me. My name is on all the papers, you- you hate him! You never feed him, or play with him, or give him treats, Mr Wobbles is mine!”

“Tony,” Peggy Carter, his (very expensive) lawyer, had touched his arm and said quietly, “it’s a cat. Do you really want the responsibility?”

Tony had slunk back into the leather seat. Shrugged and looked away like he didn’t care if the cat lived or died.

He does care, is the thing.

He looks over to the kitchen, down by the side of the fridge, where the ceramic blue food bowl used to lie.

It’s bare now.

He remembers, as he loosens his tie, takes off his armour, how Peter had looked the first time with the kitten in his arms. Brown eyes glistening and lips so pink and stained with the strawberries from breakfast.

“Tony! Please, I promise, I’ll take care of him-”

“Sweetheart,” Tony had chuckled, dragging Peter in for a kiss, “it’s your home too. Have the little monster. You don’t need permission. It’s yours.” Peter had beamed, lifted Mr Wobbles up close to Tony’s face (the creature had tried to blind him) and said “He’s ours.”

Even now, the thought makes him smile. Crooked. Sad.

Hollow, again.

That’s how the penthouse feels.

Pepper’s done an excellent job. He hadn’t seen the pieces of Peter disappear one by one, he just left for one of the divorce hearings one morning, came back one afternoon, and it was as if Peter had never been there.

Gone are the pairs of beaten converse, even though Tony had bought him suede shoes, gone are the hoodies next to blazers on the coat hook. Gone are the fruits and vegetables for those disgusting smoothies he’d always insist Tony drink. Gone is the sugary cereal because the boy’s a walking paradox and gone is-

Peter.

Tony swallows hard. There’s a lump in his throat. The first tickle of grief in this whole, drawn out process.

Peter’s gone.

Mr Wobbles is gone.

***

He won’t turn on the lights. Won’t go to the bedroom.

What he does do, because Peter’s not here to give him those huge bambi eyes, is pour himself a glass of scotch.

Then another. Then some bourbon. Bitter. All the good stuff he hasn’t felt the need to touch in two years.

Two years with Peter.

On their second anniversary, he remembers Peter’s face- flushed pink, stammering, eyes darting around to take in every inch of the party. Streamers and friends and cake and a table almost buckling under the weight of the presents.

“Tony,” he’d hiccuped, curling into Tony’s chest, shy and excited, “it’s too much.”

Tony had kissed the top of his curls. Felt pride bursting over the seams. Happy to make Peter happy. He’d felt good. “No such thing, baby,” he’d promised.

He’d lied.

Instead, Tony drinks, toes off his shoes, and reaches for the box that his lawyer gave him.

Peggy’s a great lawyer. Expensive, but the one Pepper insisted on.

“I don’t need a lawyer-”

“Peter could claim 50% of SI, Tony. 50%, do you hear me?”

Peter could have, of course. But he didn’t. Tony knew he wouldn’t. Peter’s not the vindictive type. Even in the midst of heartbreak.

He reaches for the box. It’s full of transcripts of the divorce proceedings, there are memory sticks of the recordings.

It all had to be recorded, for some reason. The most high profile divorce of the century.

Tony winces as he thinks of the tabloids. Half of them smear Peter as a gold-digger, wrong wrong wrong, the other half say Tony was cheating, abusive, desperate to go back to his philandering playboy days. Those are wrong too.

But he guesses, Husband refuses to change doesn’t make that good of a headline.

His laptop glows with harsh brightness as he slides in the memory stick. He sits crossed-legged on the ground, muscles protesting, and he forgoes the glass and drinks from the bottle.

It’s not classy. His mom wouldn’t want-

“10% is too high.” Peggy says efficiently on the video, scanning through the contracts. Tony sits beside her, slouched, comfortable, sunglasses on. Pale blue suit. He looks bored. Like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

The real Tony knows better. Knows that those sunglasses were hiding blood shot eyes, eyes focused on-

Peter. Small. Tired. Straight-back, hands folded, in a crisp white shirt.

“We’re not asking for 10% of total assets,” Coulson says softly. “But Mr Parker has made significant contributions to the biochemistry division of SI and as such he is entitled to 3% of the division and a 2% shareholder stake in the company. His marriage to Tony justifies the other 5%.” Coulson looks up from the paper and at Peggy. His voice is gentle: “We’re within our right to go to 50%. We’re asking for 10%. 3% biochemistry, 7% of SI.”

Peggy meets Coulon’s eyes. She sighs. “7% total. 3% Biochemistry, 4% of SI.”

Coulson turns to look at Peter, who murmurs something. Coulson looks like he wants to argue further, but he doesn’t.

“Agreed.” He says.

Both lawyers write. Then they move on to the next thing.

Tony thinks about Coulson. Looks at him on the video. When Pepper had said she’d secured Peggy Carter, he’d nodded, then blinked.

“What about Phil?” He’d asked.

Pepper had kept her face carefully neutral. “He’s Peter’s lawyer.”

“Oh.” Tony had said.

He’d thought Phil was his friend. They’d known each other for years, after all, and then he chastises himself. Phil and Peter had become fast friends. Manning the barbecue out on the deck, laughing, fangirling over Captain America.

“Tony,” Phil had said, coming up to him at the end of it all. “Are you- are we, okay?”

“Yeah.” Tony had nodded. He didn’t have it in him to have another enemy. “I get it. He asked you first.”

“No, Tony.” Phil frowned, shaking his head. “He needed me more.”

What did that mean?

Tony thinks now, swirling the remnants of the bottle, watching the lawyers go back and forth and him and Peter not saying a word.

Why did Peter need Coulson? The divorce was Peter’s idea. Kid should’ve been happy.

The Peter on the screen turns to look out of the window. It’s raining. He’s framed with silver light.

He doesn’t look happy.

Tony tries to think harder. Mind whirring. Tries to think of things he’s long ignored.

Of the fighting.

Of Peter’s pinched face.

He thinks, with more shame, about the times he raised his voice. How he yelled. When Peter would try to pull him out of calculations, try to coax him into eating, try to talk him down from the edge of self-destruction. Tony remembers lashing out.

“You want me to give up being Iron Man? You’re out of your mind, Peter. You’re trying to change me.”

“I’m trying to save you-”

“It’s who I am!” Tony had roared, so loudly that Peter had jerked backwards: afraid. “You’re trying to get me to abandon who I am. Well, I won’t change that way. That’s me, baby, you either take it or leave it.”

He’d been so angry. So scared. At the thought of the red and gold being put to rest.

He’s Iron Man.

“Tony.” Peter had sniffled. “I love you so much. I...I don’t want you to get hurt, but it’s more than that. You’re older now. Sam is taking over from Steve, and...and I don’t think anyone would mind, people know how much you’ve done for us all, if you wanted to retire. There are other people to be heroes now, you can-”

“Peter.” Tony had whispered, hugging him. “I promise. I won’t get hurt.”

He’d been right. But it had been a band aid on a leaking roof.

He didn’t get hurt. He saved the day. Again and again and again and again.

And each time he was gone, Peter would be pelted with rain until he gave all together.

“I want a divorce.”

Cool glass table. Thick fountain pens. Lawyers. Mr Wobbles.

Divorce of the Century - Tony and Peter call it quits. Insider reveals all.

Iron Man = Iron Heart?

Caught in the Act : A Gold Digger’s Story.

Tony Stark: Playboy Extraordinaire.

***

The sun trickles in the next morning.

Tony has a hangover.

His laptop is still playing the footage.

He opens his eyes to Peter’s face, lit with gold, he hears Peggy agree to 300 million.

Peter should smile.

He just looks sad.

Tony reaches for his phone.

It rings 8 times. Tony can picture the man on the other end. Watching it ring. Watching his name. Debating.

He answers.

“Tony.”

“He never stopped loving me.”

“I know.” Steve says quietly, huffing air into the phone, “We all know.”

Tony’s pride has saved him. It also makes him blind.

Steve comes over. Awkward, a little hesitant.

Steve is another thing Peter won in the divorce. If anyone won. If anything can be won.

Peter got Mr Wobbles. Got Steve. Got Bucky, by extension. Got Sam.

Tony got Nat and Clint.

Bruce and Thor refused to pick sides.

But Steve’s here and Tony thinks brokenly maybe all isn’t lost

“He wants me to give up being Iron Man.” Tony croaks, as Steve casts his righteous blue gaze over the penthouse. Over the box of transcripts. Over the empty bottles. Over Tony. Over the video of Peter and Coulson and the end of love.

Steve nods. “You don’t want to give up Iron Man?”

Tony nods his head. Shakes it. Shrugs. Doesn’t know.

Steve presses his lips together. “Tony, Peter can’t breathe properly when you’re Iron Man. He can’t focus. Can’t function. He’s so scared for you. If you can’t function when you’re not Iron Man, this separation is for the best.”

It’s so cruel. Too honest and brutal to hear.

“But we love each other.” Tony insists.

Steve looks sad. “Sometimes that isn’t enough.”

**

Tony doesn’t go to shareholder meetings.

But it’s three days later. He can’t sleep in their bed. Keeps thinking he hears Peter’s laugh or Mr Wobbles’ plaintive meow.

So when he sees Peter on the list. When he realises Peter might come. Could come. Might be there, within touching distance-

He puts on his best three piece suit. A dark tie. Gets his hair done.

He walks in, and fake-smiles at a few, blustering old men happy to see him.

In the long, oak boardroom, he sees Peter.

He looks young. Really young for the room. 25. In a pinstripe suit that looks- tailored. Good. Good for him.

And on his hand is-is-

It’s his wedding ring.

As soon as Peter looks up, he meets Tony’s eyes, and then honey-brown dart down to his finger, and they jerk under the table.

Tony can’t move.

Peter’s wearing it. Still wearing it. Why- what does-

His own is back in the penthouse. Set next to the photograph of his mother. Another sign of failure.

But maybe- maybe not yet. Maybe it isn’t over till the opera lady sings.

He spends the whole meeting watching Peter, and he isn’t subtle about it either. The other shareholders clear their throats awkwardly.

Peter lets him look. Open and graceful. He lets Tony drink his fill.

It’s never been difficult to look at Peter, after all. He’s stupidly beautiful. Big eyes, long lashes, and that jaw-

Pepper kicks him under the table. Tony barely feels it.

He keeps looking. Keeps drinking. Peter’s skin, soft, freckled, the bow of his lips, how he smiles, so wide he might burst.

He waits till the end of the meeting. Everyone files out very quickly- bar Pepper who lingers, before sighing.

Then it’s just him and Peter.

He watches Peter steel himself. Take a breath. Fix the armour in place that Tony found so frustrating during the divorce. The armour that hides Peter away. Behind an expressionless face and a blank, polite smile.

Gone, is the open boy.

Peter’s preparing himself for battle and-

Peter needed me more. Coulson had said.

Tony remembers asking Peter to join the Biochemistry division. He remembers asking Peter to move in. He remembers the late nights of equations. The way the tower would pull his iron man suit off him and Peter would be there, curled up, waiting.

He thinks. He thinks about Peter’s Oscorp Industries offer to head their Bio-tech division- rejected. For Tony.

He thinks of Peter’s dream to live in the sprawling country, away from the city.

He thinks of how Peter loves late night walks, hand in hand, staring at the twinkling lights of buildings.

He thinks of how Peter told him he was scared that Tony would get hurt.

There’s something about change. All the things Peter’s given him. Given and given and given until there was nothing left to give.

Tony hasn’t changed. He’s softer, more loving, but that’s because- of Peter.

All Peter’s ever asked of him, ever truly asked of him, was to retire.

Tony licks his lips- his tongue’s so dry- and he whispers: “It’s who I am, Pete. I’m sorry.”

Peter closes his eyes for a long, long moment.

Then he opens them, and smiles sadly. “I know, Tony.” He whispers, fragile, “I know. If there were any other way- you’re the smartest man in the world. You’d have figured it out. I think this…” he gestures between them helplessly. “I think maybe this is the only way. I’m sorry too.”

Then he twists the ring off his finger and Tony stops him.

“Keep it,” he begs, “please.”

Peter nods, tears slipping down his cheeks, and he hurries away.

Tony stands there, chest clenching- in more agony than he’s ever been. His jaws ache. He wants to scream. To disappear.

He goes home.

**

He’s aggressively stripping wires and thinking. Thinking. Thinking.

He’s picturing life in five years.

Picturing waking up with even more aches and pains than he has now. Of stepping down, of giving the suit to a plucky MIT graduate who Tony can mentor.

He imagines getting in his car, driving to the outskirts of New York, the rich, sprawling greenery.

Of finding Peter’s home. Gorgeous. Stately. Framed with foxgloves.

He imagines walking up the steps, knocking on the door and there’s Peter.

Even more handsome. Relaxed. Happy. He’ll smile, Tony will get down on his knees, beg for him back and Peter-

Peter will look heart-broken.

“Tony,” he’ll say, “I didn’t spend five years waiting for you. Hoping you’d come to your senses. I didn’t put my life on pause for you. And you should never have expected me to. I moved on.”

And then someone else will say, “Petey, who’s at the door?”

And he’ll come out. Peter’s husband. He’ll be handsome and young and everything Peter deserves.

Tony has to set down his tools because his hands are trembling with anger over Peter’s non-existent future husband.

Is that what he’s expecting? Is he expecting Peter to wait? To wait until Tony’s done with being Iron Man? To put his life on hold indefinitely until Tony-

It makes him sick.

He won’t do that. Not to Peter, not ever.

Online, a tabloid article: Iron Man = Iron Heart catches his eye.

They’re trying to say he has a heart of stone, but what he thinks is-

Iron Heart is a good superhero name.

**

Riri is wickedly clever.

She has wide eyes when he arrives at her dorm. She recognises him, clearly. But she quickly starts talking over him, shows him the prototype suit she’s designed.

He’s already seen it in videos.

“This what you wanna do?” He says, eyes catching a photo of her and a girl kissing on the wall. “You wanna be a superhero?”

“More than anything.” She says, getting to her feet, 21 years old and ready to take on the world.

“I used to want it more than anything too.” Tony nods, and he feels warm. “I want something else more now.”

She cocks her head. Trying to gauge him.

He tries to go for casual. “My hus- ex-husba- my Peter- he’s great with bio-tech. Do you- he could help- upgrade- I-”

“Mr Stark,” Riri says, pulling up her socks, folding herself onto her desk chair. “What’s the point in saving the world if you never get to live in it? Life is finite.”

“You’re a good kid.” He manages. “We might make a hero of you yet.”

She grins.

He thinks she’ll be a forced to be reckoned with.

*

It’s not a beach house. Or a stately home in the expensive part of New York, it’s a townhouse in Brooklyn.

Beautiful, large, homey. Tony rings on the doorbell, fiddles with his collar, wonders if he should have brought flowers-

The door opens. Tony imagines it’ll be May, or maybe a Butler, or maybe a boyfriend-

It’s Peter. He’s in pyjamas. Old ones. Tony recognises them. Mr Wobbles is curled around his feet. He shivers in the cold air.

Tony opens his mouth but doesn’t know what to say. Peter looks up at him, half hidden behind the door, the one eye Tony can see is wide and amazed. Like he maybe didn’t think Tony would come back.

“I love you, Peter Stark.” He says, remembering how Peter’s fingers had shaken when they’d signed the final papers. “And I’d do anything for you. I found a- girl. She’s great, you’ll meet her, Iron Heart, I thought, just toying around, she’ll need help. A mentor, maybe. Dead parents, always seems to be the case. But I thought maybe you and me- we could, help- guide her, I don’t-”

Peter edges out a little more. Mr Wobbles shuffles back into the warmth.

“I thought-” Peter bites his lip. “I thought Iron Man was a part of you?”

“You’re a part of me, Peter.” Tony insists. He laughs. “I’m old. Stupid. Even Cap’n Ice realised what I’ve been trying to ignore...the world doesn’t need me anymore.”

Peter reaches out, takes Tony’s hand. “I need you.” He confesses quietly, smiling.

“And you are my world.” Tony realises aloud, tingling with glee.

***

Iron Man Retires.

Stark and Parker ReUnited.

Iron Heart Makes Debut

Three Times the Starks made us Swoon

Tony Stark to celebrate 10th Wedding Anniversary.

***

He wakes up years later.

He trips over Peter’s shoes. Mr Wobbles pounces on his vulnerable toes as he walks past the bed.

He walks past one of the guest bedrooms: can hear Riri snoring.

He walks down into the lab. It glows with blue light, and there, hunched over the Iron Heart suit is Peter. He’s methodically working out all the damage it took on Riri’s latest stint. The fright she’d given them both- falling into that lake-

He looks like Tony, Tony realises. Of course his husband does, the narcissist that he is.

“Hey Pete,” Tony murmurs, rubbing his eyes, coming closer and kissing Peter on the head. “It’s late.”

“Is it?” Peter hums around a yawn, “I was just finishing up…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony chuckles, “I’ve heard that one before. Used it a few times."

Peter grins at that; tired, happy. “I guess maybe you need to tire me out,” he says wickedly, spinning in the chair, legs spreading further apart.

“Mm,” Tony murmurs, leaning down, kissing him. “Extra large pizza?”

“Cheese in the crust.” Peter nods, and they kiss again. And again.

And again.

[imaginesmai]

Tom Holland - True love kiss

This is long, this is perfect and I’m dying of fluff right here. Am I using my denial of Endgame in this fic? Yes. Tony, Peter and Morgan as a family was what we deserved. Enjoy!

Plot: “I tricked your little sister telling her Ursula has stolen my voice because I have a massive hangover, and now we have to kiss in order not to break her innocence”

or

Au were Tom works in Disney store, has a massive headache and can’t talk, and now he has lied to a little girl and she wants to get him a ‘true love kiss’; which happens to you, her older sister and Tom’s highschool crush.

“Dude, you look like shit”

Tom raised his head from where it was resting against the counter and gave Harrison the biggest glare of death that he could muster in his condition. The boy just returned a cheeky grin.

“Rough night?”

His head was pounding, his throat was dry, and more than anything at that point, Tom wished that the ground would just open up and swallow him whole, and put him out of his misery. When he had woken up that Sunday morning to his alarm blaring, his first instinct had been to call in sick. But after a few minutes of lazing around buried in blankets, his sense of guilt had kicked in, and with a groan, Tom had dutifully risen from his comfortable position and went in for his shift at the Disney Store.

There were some days when he cursed the fact that he had taken up the offer; so far away from his home, with shift too early in the morning. Normally, he swallowed the whines and put on a fake smile for the excited kids that ran around as soon as it opened. As soon as he closed his eyes again, Tom knew it was one of those days, where he would have to search deep inside the excitement to not to frown to those kids.

Last night, he had had the perfect idea to go to a party. His brother had begged him to go, and since the fucker didn’t have to work next morning, he kept Tom awake until the sun rose. He drank, he had fun and maybe flirted with a blonde – although he wasn’t sure. Then, he threw up in the toilet, drowned in headaches and swallowed the pills for the hangover.

And the worst part of it, was that last night activities involved yelling and laughing, and it had resulted in the morning’s hardship; his voice was practically gone, and all that was left was a pretty sore throat.

Tom let his head flop back against the counter, but raised his hand in a rude gesture for Harrison’s remark.

“Boy, are you grouchy when you’re hungover” he teased. Harrison stood, stretching his arms as prepared to leave, probably heading to his own job at the Nike store on the other side of the mall. “See you later, Tom”

Tom just made some recognition noise from the back of his throat.

The store was fairly quiet for a Sunday, something Tom was thankful for. There were a few kids roaming around, but a quick glance told Tom that his co-worker could more than handle it. Sometimes a break from dealing with customers was nice too. He spent the next couple of hours working at a relaxed pace, stocking shelves and making sure the displays were all neat and tidy.

“Hi, mister!”

At the sound of the sweet voice, Tom looked down to see a young girl standing next to him, giving him a wide toothless smile, and looking as cute as can be. Her hair was tied up in two braids, and she was dressed in a sparkly blue Elsa princess dress; if he had to say, she wasn’t older than four.

Tom smiled warmly at her and waved hello. He then lifted his eyes from the little girl and glanced around, frowning slightly when he noticed she was alone.

“Mommy and daddy are next door buying some diapers for our new baby brother, with my big big sister” she explained when she saw Tom’s questioning gaze. “They said we could wait here until they are finished. My big brother is over there looking at the Star Wars toys”

Tom looked over to where the girl was pointing, and sure enough there was a boy about sever, busy looking excited over the new Star Wars Millennium Falcon Lego set.

“Mommy said I can pick a toy for the new baby” the girl continued. “Can you help me get that Olaf? It’s too high and I can’t reach it”

Tom smiled and grabbed the plushie toy that the little girl was pointing at. His muscles screamed at him when he stretched his arm, but he didn’t mind; from the corner of his eye, he could see the little girl bouncing up and down. The smile on her face became even wider once he passed it to her, and she hugged the snowman to her chest. Tom chuckled soundlessly, and brought a hand to his throat. Maybe it was time for another glass of warm milk. Sure on the café down wouldn’t care.

“Thanks, mister!”

Swallowing down the hurt from being called mister for the second time one a day, Tom grinned and gave her a thumbs up. The girl’s expressions suddenly became concerned and she looked at him inquisitively. She tilted her hear slightly and a little furrow between her eyebrows formed as she stared at him intensely.

“Can’t you talk?”

Tom’s lips twitched and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. He couldn’t tell to a little girl that he couldn’t talk because he had screamed every bit of the songs of last night, and that, combined with cheap vodka, wasn’t a good choice. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and pointed to his throat, shaking his head. The girl’s eyes widened.

“But why can’t you talk?”

Probably, if her parents would have been around she would have been scolded for asking such a question. But they weren’t, and Tom thought there wasn’t anything wrong with enjoying the attention that kid was willing to give him

Quickly, he took his notepad that was sitting by the cash register and wrote something down. He held it out to the little girl. She glanced at it, frowning cutely when she couldn’t make out any of the words he had written. Like if they were in a TV show, the girl closed her eyes tightly and yelled out for his brother. Tom almost jumped on his place from the strength and volume of that little girl voice.

A boy with short brown hair and a pout made its way where Tom was.

“What’s wrong, Morgan?”

“Peter!” the girl turned around, shoving the paper to his brother’s hands. “He can’t talk! Something is wrong! Can you read what he wrote?”

“My name is Tom” the boy read it out loud, giving Tom a weird glance. He looked then to his sister, who was looking at him as if he was reading the secret to immortality. “I can’t speak because – uh, because Ursula the sea, witch? Stole my voice, but I’m happy to assist you”

Morgan let out a gasp and, if possible, her eyes widened even more. She clutched Olaf even tighter to her chest, looking devastated at Tom’s predicament. Peter, on the other hand, didn’t look quite as convinced, looking at Tom doubtfully. Still, he didn’t say anything.

“I know how we can get your voice back!” Morgan tugged on Tom’s hand, and smiled brightly at him. “We need – We need to find your true love! You need true love’s kiss!”

“I don’t think that would work, Morgan” Peter announced. He didn’t sound too convinced, but Tom could see that his little mind was trying to work around the lie yet. “How do we even know Ursula is real? We’ve never seen her”

“Of course it would work. It worked with Ariel!” Morgan began pulling Tom around, giving a hard glare to his brother. “Ursula is very tricky. She could be hiding in plain sight and you would never know! Do you have a true love, Tom?”

Honestly, the boy was having more fun than at the party last night. Tom shook his head and allowed the girl to begin dragging him around the store, stopping after taking just a few steps. He watched as Morgan surveyed their surrounded, Peter watching too even if he tried to hide it. There weren’t much people on the store, just two couples and their children.

“We are going to find your true love. Everyone has one!” Morgan seemed convinced; and his brother didn’t seem to need much more, since he had a excited smile too.

“Maybe we can go to the food court!” Peter chimed in, now completely caught up in the situation. “There’s always lots of people there!”

The idea of the two children leaving the store with him made him pale. As harmless as he thought his little joke was in the beginning, he clearly hadn’t thought things through. If he was seen with two kids on the mall, if the parents saw him with their kids, he could be in so much trouble he didn’t want to think off. Even if the kids hand bright expressions on their faced, Tom thought it wouldn’t hurt to force his voice one more time to avoid being fired.

Before he could cough out the rawness of his throat, another voice appeared.

“Morgan! Peter! Time to leave!” a man’s voice echoed through the shop, and Tom let out a relieved breath. Both kids looked extremely disappointed as their father appeared and beckoned them towards him. “We’re gonna grab some lunch – your mother is already waiting for us at the food court with Y/N”

The siblings looked at each other with glee, and Morgan let go of Tom’s hand to run to his father.

“Daddy! Daddy, Tom has to come with us! We need to find his true love!”

The man, who had dark sunglasses on and the same brown eyes than his kids, gave Tom a confused look. And Tom understood; kids brought home stray cats or dogs, not full grown men to look for their love. However, the man didn’t seem to react in a scandalous way, just tightened his tie and let his son speak.

“Ursula stole his voice” Peter added. “We have to help him get it back!”

“Please, daddy! Can he come? Can he come?” Morgan jumped up and down, begging. Cooper walked forwards too, and started to fill the man’s cheeks, covered by a black goatee with kisses.

“Morg, honey” the man began slowly, pushing his kids away. “Uh, this boy had to work, he can’t just up and leave. He has responsibilities here. What do we day about responsible, Pete?”

“That it’s important” Peter answered, pouting.

The man gave a whole speech that had Tom with wide eyes; even if he wasn’t specially tall, or strong, he held a determination in his voice that he hadn’t heard in anyone. After promising that Tom would be okay without a voice for another week, since they would come back just for him, the kids left with their father. Both of them gave Tom a big hug and promised a thousand times that they would come back.

That kind of innocence was pure, and if a five minute interaction could help them to keep that innocence even longer; well, Tom was willing to promise them back that he could wait.

After all, what could it hurt?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ninety minutes later, Tom was feeling a lot better. His headache was gone – courtesy of Harrison, who had taken pity of him and given him some Advil and a nice, streaming mug of tea, which helped to sooth his throat. His voice was even starting to come back, albeit it was accompanied with a slight rasp. All in all, he felt like a normal functioning human being.

The store had slowed down in activity even more; the bright and sunny day was then dark and with ominous rain clouds rolling in. Tom was almost sure that it wouldn’t hurt anyone to go home before he had to shower in cold water when it started to rain.

Pounding footsteps were suddenly heard echoing from the hallway, and Tom looked up just in time to see Peter appearing at the front entrance. Peter spotted him and squealed with excitement, whipping around to wave.

“He’s still here, Morgan! I see him!”

“Hurry up, Y/N!”

At the sound of Morgan’s voice, Tom rounded the corner of the cashier desk and frowned. Behind him, he could hear Harrison, who was lazily hanging around, begin to snicker as he watched. He already knew what had happened with the kids, and after a whole lot of teasing, Tom had regretted telling him.

Just then, Morgan appeared in his line of vision, pulling a young woman behind her by the hand. You just looked confused as you struggled with your shopping bags and the purse, all while trying to keep Morgan from running off without you. The second the little ball of energy saw Tom, she let go of your hand and went running up to him. Blinking the upcoming embarrassment, Tom bent down to one knee so that he could be at eye level with Morgan.

“Hi Tom!” Morgan greeted enthusiastically. “We thought – we thought that if you couldn’t go and find your true love we could bring her to you! This is my sister, Y/N, and she can be your true love!”

As you stepped closer to him, Tom looked up – and felt his mouth go dry. His stomach fluttered when he recognized you. You had never talked in person, but it was hard not to notice when Y/N Stark walked into the room. You had shared a couple of classes together back in highschool, and Tom sat directly behind you in your biology class. He wasn’t that much of a genius, but thanks to you he passed all the classes; and it was really a miracle, because young Tom spent all his time staring at you.

He could almost remember the stuttering when you talked, the burning heat on his cheeks and how sad he was when he learned that you had moved away. Now that he thought about that, he had already met Peter as a baby, and your father a couple of times. How could he forget his forever crush?

“Didn’t you guys want to go to the arcade?” you asked, your voice sweet and gentle as he remembered. “It’s on the other side of the mall”

“Y/N” Peter talked “We have to ask you something really important”

Panic filled Tom. He desperately wracked his brain, trying to come up with a way to stop the kids before they could embarrass him to the next decade.

“Can you be Tom’s true love?” Morgan and Peter asked at the same time, slightly unrhythmical.

For the second time that day, Tom wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole, never to be seen again. His cheeks turned red and his ears pink, and he wanted to bash his head against the counter.

“W-what?” you asked. Your gaze landed on him and he could see the recognition flashing through your eyes. The smile that appeared on your face made the whole situation more embarrassment. “Tom! It had been ages since I saw you!”

Tom nodded dumbly.

“Y/N!” Morgan stamped her foot impatiently and your attention landed on your little sister once more. “This is really important!”

“Ursula might come back, Y/N!” Peter backed up. Tom wasn’t sure who was more invested in the story, if the big brother or the little sister. “Can you be his true love or not? He doesn’t have all day!”

“Who the f -uh, who is Ursula?” you gave a confused glance to Tom, who was still kneeling on the ground frozen because I could fucking faint.

“The evil sea witch” Morgan rolled her eyes, slumping her shoulders as if you were the most annoying thing in her short life. She showed you the pad of paper with Tom’s note written on it. “Remember, Y/N? She stole Ariel’s voice. And now she took Tom’s voice, and the only way to get it back is if he finds his true love!”

Tom could hear Harrison laughing his ass off on the background. His friend for sure knew who you were, as Tom couldn’t stop talking about you even years after you left, so the situation was hilarious for the blonde. Meanwhile, Tom was feeling everything moving in a slow motion, the headache back and his palms sweaty. He had the prettiest girl he could think of in front of him, with a note that confirmed his implication on the true love thing. If you slapped him and called him a creep, he wouldn’t blame you.

But the smile didn’t fell from your lips, it just transformed into a little laugh. You tried to cover it up with a cough and brought your hand to your mouth. Tom could see the happy shine in your eyes, the same he had enjoyed when he was in highschool and made you laugh. Even if it wasn’t going as bad as it could, Tom was sure he wouldn’t be calling you to meet up, as much as it hurt him; more like changing cities and avoiding you like the plague. Forger ever mucking up the courage to ask you on a date.

“Yeah, I can” your voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he started at you in disbelief as you smirked down at him. Your hair was shorter, your features more mature and you were a bit taller; but he felt like he was all over that nervous boy that followed you through the corridors in hopes of you noticing him.

“Really?!” Morgan squealed, her wide toothless smile lit up her entire face.

“Only because you ask me and because you’re gonna eat all your veggies tonight” you tapped both of your siblings’ noses and laughed when a defeated sigh left their mouth. Then, you looked down at Tom and raised a brow. “Tom is going to have to stand up, though”

There was no way you could be serous about that. There was no way his crush from highschool, who he hadn’t seen in years, was asking him to stand up to kiss him. Not Harrison, who had stopped laughing behind Tom and was looking at the scene with wide eyes. Not your siblings, who were waiting for him to move. No, you were talking to Tom and Tom was having a heart attack.

“Tom, come on!” Peter urged him, tugging on his sleeve. For such a small boy, your brother was strong.

The whole thing was more than a little weird, but Tom wasn’t that stupid to deny the opportunity that it presented. And if there was one thing that could be said about Tom, was that he was fucking in love with you he never backed down. Even if it was going to blow up in his face.

Up close, he was able to notice the little details that he otherwise would have missed. You smelled so good that he had to stop himself from sniffling. Your eyes were brighter, and your hair was the same colour he remembered. He looked to the small mole that he had found years ago, and it was in the same place; so were the wrinkles around your eyes and the dimple on your cheek. You tucked your hair behind your ear, and Tom could see himself studying the last history test on his bed, his mother knocking on the door to see if everything was alright and hearing her giggling when Tom stuttered.

“You really have to make it a special kiss” Morgan instructed, dead serious. “Like the kind of kisses that daddy gives mommy sometimes. A real true love’s kiss!”

“Alright” you nodded, stepping closer.

Gently, you grasped the lapels of his store vest and pulled him even closer, so that your bodies touched each other. Tom leaned in automatically, his head dropping and your lips slanting together. It wasn’t as hard as he thought, as his arms wrapped around your waist and you kissed him once, twice, three times. It wasn’t the first time he had been kissed, but without a doubt, it was easily the best kiss of his life.

Your body felt warm against him, or maybe it was the nerves, and he realized that you fitted perfectly together. Your noses didn’t touch, your hand seemed to belong to the back of his neck and even the heights were perfect for each other. Tom was about to melt in the ground, when you teared apart.

He seemed them to see the two kids looking at you with wide eyes and mouth open, Harrison on his side vision with the phone on his ear and whispering-talking excitedly. You blushing and tucking your hands in the pockets of your jacket, looking down.

“Now try talking, Tom!” Morgan said, her voice sounding impossibly loud in the empty store. Tom had never been so thankful that there were no customers around.

“Uh” Tom ran a hand through his head, floundering for words.

Tom let his eyes go back to you, and your gazes met. He tuned out the kids urging him to talk, and cherished how you didn’t look ready to run off and call the police on him. It wasn’t probably the best way to ask, since you hadn’t seen each other for years and you had kissed because of a shitty tale told to a little girl as an excuse for his hangover.

But, what else could he lose? After all, in fairy tales everyone had a happy ending; and he couldn’t let the two main characters hanging.

“What about a date?”

Peter Parker taglist:

@delicately-important-trash​

@lexxxistrips​

@smilexcaptainx​

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

[imagine-that]

Surprise!

Words: 1,768 words

Warnings: mild swearing, fluffy I guess?

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

An: I don’t usually do titles but I’m trying out new stuff on here lol. I can’t tell if this is good or if it’s word vomit so I’ll let y’all decide 😂. This is for @t-holland2080 ‘s summer writing challenge, I used prompt number 24 “quit arguing and let me kiss you.”

Just as you shut your locker door at the end of the school day, your boyfriend Peter latches onto your shoulders, gently enough that it didn’t do anything to harm you but still scared you.

You let out a yelp in surprise and the surrounding student body turned to look at the two of you, only somewhat confused until they realized it was the two of you.

By then, everyone had grown used to Peters tendencies to jump behind you or sneak up on you anywhere you were. Of course, no one knew that he had his Spider-Man powers to help him with that but they were still used to it nonetheless. Everyone was. Other than you.

“Surprise?” He says into your ear, making you groan a little.

“Jesus Peter you have to stop doing that!” You groaned, making him chuckle slightly.

“Sorry.” He mutters sheepishly, pecking you on the cheek as an apology as you begin to make you way out of the building at a steady pace.

“I’m sure you are.” You say sarcastically, giggling a bit as he holds his hands up to say he’s innocent.

The two of you walk to the bus stop where Peter usually leaves you to get home and on your separate ways but this time as you go to get on with the line of others leaving, his hand gently clasps your wrist to stop you.

“Happy is picking me up today so why don’t you come along? Happy loves us it’ll be fun!” He says enthusiastically.

“Peter, I’m pretty sure Happy is actually more annoyed by us than anything.” You argue with a laugh.

“Ok but he does love you so let’s uh... let’s go!” He says with a very nervous looking grin.

He begins to charge through the crowd with your hand in his own, shocking you as you bump shoulders with several strangers and hear the grunts of irritation from your fellow classmates.

“Peter slow the hell down!” You cry, tugging on his arm to bring him to a halt.

“I would but um... Happy’s uh... waiting so we gotta go!” He rambles, starting to move again.

You cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at him as he finally stops and refuses to meet your eye.

“Are you... are you coming?” He stammers, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

You eye him suspiciously, questioning in your mind for the hundredth time how he was ever able to keep the Spider-Man secret from anyone or even just sneak up on you the way he usually did when he could hardly hide whatever the hell he had planned for the two of you.

“I’ll come.” You say, arms still crossed. His face lights up like a Christmas tree when you say so. “If you tell me what’s going on.” You add, letting your arms drop back to your sides.

His face falls into a childish, puppy dog faced frown. “But y/n! It’ll ruin the surprise!” He whines.

Your y/e/c eyes become saucers as he goes silent and groans, clearly upset with himself for spoiling it.

“Peter!” You sigh, leaning on him as you walk to the car parked by the curb. “You know I hate surprises. It usually means you jumping out at me and terrifying me.” You lecture, entertwining your hands as you walk, swinging them back and forth to distract yourself.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He says with another sheepish grin. “I just like making you happy.” He adds with a smile.

“You can do that without scaring the bajeezus out of me!” You counter with a giggle as you snuggles yourself into his side for a second, letting go only to get into the car.

“Hi Happy!” Peter says, trying to get himself out of the situation. Happy grunts in acknowledgement, glancing back in the rear view mirror as he starts to drive.

“Oh hi y/n!” He says somewhat happily when he finally notices you nuzzling up to Peter,already knowing how much it would bug the boy beside you. Peters mouth drops open, looking between the two of you in shock.

“I- that hurts Happy, I thought you were in charge of me!” He cries.

“I am. But I actually like your girlfriend/boyfriend/significant other.” He responds with a shrug, smiling a bit at you while you giggle and Peter sulks.

“Don’t touch that! Or that!” Happy starts ordering about fifteen minutes later as the car pulls into the long driveway of the avengers compound and Peter reaches around like a child to press the buttons in front of him.

You palm a snicker as Peter once again pouts like a kid.

“And you wonder why he pretends not to like you.” You murmur jokingly into Peters ear, giggling even more as he scoffs in protest.

“Thanks for the ride Happy.” You say gleefully, stepping out of the back and pulling your school bag over your shoulder.

“Yep thanks.” Peter says, pretending to be bitter.

Happy rolls his eyes and drives off to go park the car, leaving you with Peter who once again grabs your hand and yanks you up the steps and into the compound.

“Where are we going?” You shout as the two of you run through the halls.

“A secret.” He says and you sigh again.

“Peter-“ you start but you’re quick to stop when you step through the doors into the lab where Tony Stark himself stands, working on one of his famous suits.

“Holy shit.” You breath, staring at him nervously.

“Uh.... Mr Stark, this is y/n my uh... my girlfriend/boyfriend/significant other. Y/n, this is Mr Stark.” Peter says nervously, waving stiffly at the man.

“Hello there y/n. Only Peter really calls me Mr Stark, call me Tony if you want.” He offers and you blink at him, not sure how to react.

“H-hi Tony.” You muster with a wave of your own, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

“I felt the same way the first time I met him. Also, surprise!” Peter whispers from behind you, causing you to jump around and realize how close he was.

“Jesus!” You mutter, a hand over your heart.

“A little jumpy?” Tony asks, lowering his sunglasses to look at Peter.

“A little would be kind of a um... an understatement mr Stark.” He responds, laughing as you turn to glare at him playfully.

“Well... what was it? Y/n, right?” Tony asks, turning to you. You nod your head rapidly, too awestruck to speak.

“You can feel free to watch me work while Underoos does whatever it is he’s planning to do for you two if you want.” He informs you, turning back to his work desk.

You snicker again at the nickname and Peters face falls in shock, blushing profusely, the tips of his ears burning a furiously bright red. He pushes you over to the desk, knowing you need a push to get up the courage.

You cautiously watch over Tony’s shoulder as he tinkers with the build of the suit, explaining a little what he’s doing as he goes.

A minute later, you find yourself suddenly swinging through the air in someone’s arms.

You scream, caught fully by surprise. “Peter!” You shriek, scared out of your mind as you quickly grab hold of him until your knuckles almost white.

“Hi.” He murmurs through his mask, clearly scared by your scream. On the ground, Tony winces at the high pitched noise.

“You know that would terrify me! You knew- oh my god we’re basically flying. Holy shit!” You cry, laughing a little to yourself.

“Yep. Pretty cool isn’t it?” Peter says, moving his mask slightly so you can see his regular toothy smile.

You giggle a little, stopping abruptly. “No! You could’ve killed me- jeeze you... you could’ve given me a heart attack!” You wail, looking at him with wide eyes.

He tries and fails not to chuckle at your dramatics, swinging himself low enough to put you safely on solid ground. He flips himself upside down, clearly showing off for you as much as he can without looking awkward.

“Just quit arguing and let me kiss you.” He says, moving his mask again so you can clearly see his deep brown eyes and his goofy grinning face. When he sees the the quirked up eyebrow on your seemingly unimpressed face, he blushes a little, his ears going red. “Please?” He adds, smiling as adorably as he can muster.

You bite your tongue, trying to hide the giggle tickling your throat but quickly burst out into a laugh, grabbing his head with a shake of your own. “You’re lucky I love you, you dork.” You say with a smile, moving forward and kissing him smack dab on the lips.

His grin widens from ear to ear. That’s when you finally fully notice his suit, a grin spreading across your own lips at the sight.

“I’m actually dating Spider-Man.” You state, looking at him with a disbelieving laugh.

“Haha... yep!” He exclaims as he uses a web to swing around you in a circle, making you squeal as he lands quietly behind you. Your eyebrows furrow as you look around for him, not sure where he could be.

“Surprise!” He shouts in your ear, making you scream again. Tony is quick to cover his ears this time, still wincing.

“You look good in that suit.” You inform him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and smiling up at him.

He blushes again, smiling awkwardly. “Thanks babe...” he stammers, avoiding eye contact. “Now come over here cause I believe I said to let ME kiss YOU.” He reminds you, and you roll your eyes, letting him bend down and place his lips on yours.

Tony groans, clearly pretending to be grossed out.

“Ok, teenage love birds. Take it out of the lab!” He orders, pointing at the door. You blush, staring at him in shock again but Peter is quick to scoop you up in his arms, swinging the both of you out the doorway and through the compound with your arms tightly around him.

Your afternoon is spent staring at the other Avengers in shock, chatting with a few of them and swinging through the air on Peters webs.

“So... good surprise?” Peter asks sheepishly when you’re finished, grinning excitedly as you laugh for the millionth time that day.

“Yes Peter, for once it was good.” You admit with a smile of your own.

Peter dances around the hallways of the compound goofily, making you fall into a fit of giggles.

You shake your head as he swings around in celebration, knowing full well how much of a handful he is and knowing it would always be worth it for him.

[refinedbuffoonery]

Riley + Sunglasses + Undercover (4)

masterlist.

Read it on AO3.

*****

The ballroom was crowded with beautiful women, but Mac only had eyes for one in particular. 

Riley flitted about the room with him in tow, making small talk with strangers at random. Stumbling upon a group of men who all seemed to be software engineers of some sort, Riley joined their discussion, challenging their ideas with “I’ve found it more effective when…” and what-if questions. Mac stood back and admired her, not understanding a word any of them said. He could tell these men were smart, but she was smarter. Her brain worked faster than anyone else’s he knew. Watching her mind at work was hot. Like, really hot. 

She turned around and flashed a wide, bright smile at him, and all he could think was, Oh shit. It was the one that she reserved only for him, Mac noted with no small amount of primal satisfaction. 

“Damon, honey.” She wiggled her index finger at him. “Come here.” Snapping himself out of his daze, he complied. Riley introduced him, “This is my boyfriend, Damon.” 

“Damon Townsend. Genius, philanthropist, playboy, millionaire…” He shook each man’s hand in turn, ignoring Riley’s side-eye. “But, who am I kidding? Danika’s the impressive one.” He wrapped an arm around her waist. 

She beamed, dark eyes locking with his. Those damn eyes fucked him over every time. So dark they blended in with her pupils half the time, yet warm and soft, they were so easy to get lost in, like drowning in a sea of midnight waves. Drowning was not a pleasant way to go, but Mac was more than willing to drown in her. 

His favorite thing about her eyes was that they betrayed her every emotion. No matter how well she hid it in the rest of her face and body language, her eyes always told the truth. 

And with the way she was looking at him… It was getting harder to pretend everything was fine. To pretend he wasn’t in love with her. Mac caught himself leaning forward a fraction, as if he were going to kiss her. He pulled back. What the hell was he thinking? 

Mac could’ve sworn she’d leaned in too, but he chalked it up to his overeager imagination. 

Not breaking eye contact, she said, “I’m hungry. Let’s find something to eat.” Mac nodded. Riley turned to the men, who were starting to look uncomfortable. “It was nice meeting you all.” 

She led him toward the hors d'oeuvres table. “I didn’t realize I was dating Tony Stark,” Riley said, her voice low. Mac chuckled. 

He popped a bacon-wrapped date in his mouth. They were one of his favorite appetizers, salty and sweet at the same time. Riley ate one too. 

Desi flagged them over to her hiding place in the corner, and Mac grabbed a date for the road. 

“Meet anyone interesting?” she asked. 

Riley shook her head. “No, they all seem clean.” Trying to sniff out the seller at the auction was a long shot, but it was the best they could do until the facial recognition Bozer was running on the security footage from the pool found a match. 

“We’ll take another lap,” Mac said. Resting a hand on the small of Riley’s back, he led her through the crowd. His thumb brushed her bare skin, exposed by a cutout in the back of her elegant navy gown. Riley gasped on contact. It took every ounce of willpower to stop himself from sliding his hand up to learn exactly what would cause her to gasp like that again. 

He and Riley neared the front of the ballroom, having nearly completed their lap. There were fewer people at this end.

In his peripheral vision, a guard pointed directly at him. “Damn,” he muttered. 

“Mac, what is it?” 

He nodded toward the guard making a beeline for them. Mac observed his surroundings, knowing Riley was doing the same. There was nowhere to hide, and with all the exits sealed, there was literally nowhere to run. They were out of options, and the guard was now mere feet away. 

His plan was stupid, in so many ways. But, it was the best he had. 

“I’m so sorry, Riles.” 

He didn’t wait for her response before gripping her waist and pushing her up against the nearest wall, next to a coat closet. His lips crashed into hers, every bit the fiery public makeout their covers supposedly indulged in. She hesitated for only a second before closing her eyes and kissing him back. 

Their kiss was everything he’d ever hoped for. 

Well, except the fact that they were Danika and Damon, not Macgyver and Riley. 

She gripped the back of his neck and pulled him closer. How could she commit to putting her hands in just one place? Because she doesn’t have feelings for you, idiot. He ran his hands along her sides, her hips, her back, never staying in one place longer than a few seconds. Trying to memorize the feel of holding her, touching her, kissing her because he knew he’d probably never get this chance again. 

No wonder Bozer had once said he refused to die before he could kiss her. Mac felt like his bones were on fire and the world stopped spinning and time slowed down just for them.  

If someone pulled him away and asked him what two plus two was, he would’ve said her name in answer. 

Riley swiped her tongue along his lower lip, and Mac almost combusted on the spot. She’s just playing. She’s just playing. She’s just--

A soft moan escaped her lips. 

Fuck. 

He never wanted to kiss anyone else again. One kiss from her ruined everyone else. 

She dropped her hands to his shoulders as the approaching guard quickly found somewhere else to be. Crisis averted. Mac’s own hands finally stilled--one on her waist and the other tangled in her hair. Their kisses became languid, yet deliberate. Exploratory. God, she’s a good kisser, he thought. His heart pounded so loudly Mac was sure Riley could hear it. 

He needed to end this before he did something he regretted. Mac trailed chaste kisses along her jaw to her ear. “Closet,” he growled. 

“Uh-huh.” She slammed her hand into the doorknob, flung the door open, and dragged him inside by his tie, their lips colliding once more.

*****

Bozer sat in front of the computer, monitoring the auction and wishing Desi would smuggle him some hors d'oeuvres. 

So far, no luck, even though it would’ve been oh so easy to wrap something up in a napkin and slip it in a pocket unseen, since every pair of eyes was trained on Mac and Riley stumbling into a coat closet. 

Bozer took one look at Mac’s tie in Riley’s fist and knew his best friend was a goner. 

The pixelated camera feed did nothing to hide the horrified expression on the incoming security guard’s face. At least he knew better than to interrupt that. The guard veered to the left and suddenly found the floor very interesting. 

Bozer was about to give Mac and Riley the all-clear when Riley’s hand appeared pressed into the frosted glass of the coat closet door. It reminded him of the iconic hand scene in Titanic. 

Bozer cringed but mumbled, “Damn.” In the corner of the screen, Desi subtly pulled out her phone. 

His phone buzzed. Well that was fast, her text read. Bozer figured that was as positive of a response as they were going to get from her. He started to text her back, but was interrupted when Riley’s laptop made a pinging noise. 

Facial recognition found a match.

*****

They were still kissing after Riley pulled the closet door shut and locked it behind them. Every pair of eyes in the room had been on them as they shamelessly made out against the wall before stumbling into the closet like lovesick idiots. Don’t kid yourself, Riley. You are a lovesick idiot. All the outside world could see now was two faint silhouettes through the door’s frosted window. 

Still holding his tie, Riley tugged Mac closer. Now that she had him, she couldn’t get enough of him. Her whole body curved into his, and he braced her neck while his mouth slanted over hers, teeth tugging at her lower lip. 

Kissing Mac felt like a thousand stars exploding in her chest all at once. 

Even though it would never be reality, Riley let herself fantasize about the op ending with the two of them alone in a hotel room. Her toes curled in her stilettos. She needed to stop, but she couldn’t. She wanted to eat him alive. 

Riley murmured his name against his lips, and Mac’s hands curved around her ass like he was going to lift her up. She traced the outline of his lips with her tongue, teasing him while she waited for that little squeeze, signaling her to jump and wrap her legs around him. 

What started as just a diversion morphed into something much, much more, and the last threads of her frayed restraint finally snapped. Louder this time, she said his name again, her voice low and sultry. 

Mac suddenly ripped himself away. 

His absence hit her like a brick. A whole fucking truckload of bricks. Riley stumbled backward, steadying herself with a hand on the window. Her eyes refused to open for a few moments. Her lungs stopped working. A thousand questions burned on her tongue, but she ignored them all, too busy engraving the moment into her memory. 

It was just an act, she reminded herself, but his lips were so soft and warm and damn he tasted good. He pulled away. He didn’t mean it. They probably only kept kissing for ten, fifteen seconds, tops, but it felt like an eternity passed in those precious few seconds. 

In all the times they’d gone undercover as a couple, they’d never kissed before. If he’d kissed her like that on an op, she would’ve realized her feelings long ago. 

She finally dared look at him. He wore that dazed expression he got when he was deep in his own head. What if…no. 

Get it together, Riley. She couldn’t. 

It meant nothing. It was everything. 

He’s just doing his job. He could’ve found another way to escape. He’s MacGyver. 

The voices in her head needed to shut the fuck up. Their little retorts were not helping. 

“I’m sorry, Riles.” His voice was hoarse. 

His apology snapped Riley out of her head and into reality. Mac looked almost...broken. Not the same broken as after his dad died, but broken nonetheless. Her heart sank in her chest. 

“Mac, it’s okay,” she reassured him, voice equally hoarse. 

“No, it’s not. I should’ve found another way. At least I should’ve asked first. I’m sorry. I panicked.” He was spiraling. 

“Mac,” she said firmly. “Look at me.” He did. “It’s okay. I would’ve done the same thing.” 

“As long as you’re sure.” He still looked guilty. 

Riley took a deep breath and removed her hand from the door. “So, now that the whole world thinks we’re having a quickie in a closet...what do we do now?” It was a feeble attempt to regain some normalcy. 

A smile tugged at Mac’s lips. Riley noticed they had a reddish tint from her lipstick. “I have no idea.” 

She tried to come up with a bad joke about improvising but was interrupted by Bozer’s voice in her ear. 

“Sorry to interrupt the party, guys, but facial rec found a match for the seller in the Interpol database. His name is Raymond Pierre.” Bozer said his name with a terrible French accent. “Interpol doesn’t have much on him, other than that he’s French and has a couple charges of identity theft.” 

“So he’s a con man?” Riley prompted. 

“More than likely,” Bozer confirmed. “Can you--”

“Do my thing and find him? Yeah, we’ll be right there.” 

Mac muted his comms and motioned for her to do the same. She did, raising her eyebrows to silently ask, Are you okay? 

His arm twitched, as if he was going to reach for her and thought better of it. Feelings be damned, she took his hand in hers and squeezed. 

Holding hands with Mac didn’t create sparks or stir butterflies. Their intertwined fingers just felt natural. Safe. Reassuring. Like a silent I got you. 

He squeezed back. “Can we stay in here for a minute?” His voice wavered. 

Riley nodded, the pained expression in his eyes sending her spiraling once again. Oh. Right. Shifting back into work mode, Riley momentarily forgot about the situation she and Mac had gotten themselves into. Though this was far from the first time she’d dragged him into a closet, this was the first they’d ended up so…disheveled. 

It was just a diversion that got carried away. That’s all.  Liar. Liar. Liar. 

The problem with kissing someone was the echoing possibility of doing it again. Riley felt it in the space between them, like static electricity during a lightning storm. 

She needed to get out of that damn closet before she did something incredibly stupid. Riley wanted nothing more than to back him into a wall and lose herself in him, but Angus MacGyver wasn’t hers, and they had a job to do. 

She took another deep breath. Mac asked for a minute, and she respected that. Running away from whatever this was wasn’t an option. 

“Riles,” he said softly. She stood completely still as he reached for her face. His fingers hovered millimeters from her lips in hesitation, giving her the chance to back away. When she didn’t, he gently swiped his finger along the edge of her lips. Her pulse thundered. That small, reverent touch was more intoxicating than his hands on her skin or his tongue in her mouth would ever be. 

Belatedly, he said, “Your lipstick was smudged.” 

“Thanks,” she breathed.  

His other hand tightened on hers. “Riles, I--” He was interrupted by both of their phones ringing. 

“We should probably answer that,” Riley said. Reality beckoned. She wasn’t sure whether she was grateful or furious. Maybe both. 

It was a text from Bozer. Turn your damn comms back on. Desi’s gone.

[goindownshipping]

You make me feel something like summertime

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker)

Rating: Teen (T)

Notes: I was thinking about my own beach vacation and my head was suddenly filled with thoughts of Starker meeting at the beach. The following fluff ensued. Thanks to @ohwereusingourmadeupnames for several nudges throughout this!

Words: 4.6k

Summary:

There was the older couple staying a few houses down that always walked by in the late afternoon, the family with three kids that passed by around noon, and then there was the Golden Boy, as Peter had started calling him in his head. He was Peter’s favorite. He strolled by in the mid-afternoon with a couple of older folks, who Peter assumed were his parents. Golden Boy had dark, curly hair, his upper body was tan from days in the sun, and his smile was more blinding than the sun’s reflection off the ocean. 

Or, Peter and Tony only have eyes for each other while they’re both on vacation with their families. A lovely summer romance follows.

Throughout his entire life, Peter couldn’t remember anything better than summer vacation. His childhood was filled with plenty of ups and downs, more downs if he was being honest, but summer vacation was always a highlight. Although he and May didn’t live a life of luxury, their annual summer trip was, without fail, the best week of the year.

Over the years, the trips to the family beach house contained more memories and traditions than Peter could possibly put into words. As a child, he lost his first tooth at the house, conquered his fear of jellyfish (mostly), and learned the hard way why he needed sunscreen on his ears. As he got older, the week at the beach provided much-needed relief from the stresses of summer jobs, college essays, and job applications. No matter what was going on in his world, the beach made everything better, it was truly his happy place, no matter how cheesy that sounded even to himself.

During college, the trips to the beach were more difficult. New jobs and less time off made the annual trip less frequent, but all the more special. A few years post-grad, Peter was settled into his job enough to take the time off for him and May to take their trip. It had been a couple of years since they’d gone, and Peter was itching for that feeling of home. As soon as the salty, humid air filled his lungs, Peter felt his entire being fill with relief. May had barely parked their rental car at the house when Peter practically ran down the walkway, eager to feel his toes in the sand and let the sounds of the ocean drown out the buzzing of work he’d left behind. 

May came up behind him, equally relieved to be at her family’s beach house. 

“Feels like we never left, huh?” she sighed.

Peter took a deep breath in, trying to soak in as much sea and sand as he could. “Best feeling in the world,” he agreed.

The next day passed in a blur of rolling out of bed late and heading straight for the beach - after he covered himself in sunscreen, thank you very much. He and May spent the day in comfortable quiet, sharing snippets of the books they read, pointing out cute dogs on the beach, and deciding which restaurant they wanted to visit that night. It was peaceful, comforting, and everything Peter needed from a vacation.

The following day, Peter started recognizing the faces of folks that passed their chairs on daily walks and shared kind smiles in acknowledgment. There was the older couple staying a few houses down that always walked by in the late afternoon, the family with three kids that passed by around noon, and then there was the Golden Boy, as Peter had started calling him in his head. He was Peter’s favorite. He strolled by in the mid-afternoon with a couple of older folks, who Peter assumed were his parents. Golden Boy had dark, curly hair, his upper body was tan from days in the sun, and his smile was more blinding than the sun’s reflection off the ocean. 

Peter attempted to be subtle when he walked by, but even his dark sunglasses couldn’t hide the way he stared when the other man passed by. After the first time he’d walked past, Peter was determined to find out where this beautiful human was staying. He immediately popped up to take his own beach walk, searching for the bright red and gold swim trunks he’d seen the man wearing. When his eyes found the very loud fabric, he blushed, finding Golden Boy’s eyes trained on him. They shared a small smile, neither man willing to take the leap to say hello. 

Tony looked up from his seat in the sand, struck by the curly-haired boy he’d seen on his walk a short while ago. Although he complained at his parents’ insistence that he walk with them, he was grateful he’d given in. The man he’d seen lounging under his umbrella absolutely took his breath away, and he was thrilled to see those long legs passing in front of him now. He smiled shyly, hoping his blush was hidden by the slight sunburn on his cheeks. His attention was quickly redirected by his mother calling from him from their walkway, forcing him to turn away. When he looked back, the other man was already headed back the way he came; Tony could only hope that meant he’d walked all this way just looking for him.

The following day, Tony and Peter took more beach walks than either of them had taken in their lives. Each time they passed each other they shared a smile, maybe a wave. At one point, Peter was taking a quick dip in the ocean, cooling off from the sweltering heat and humidity. As soon as his head popped up out of the water, his eye’s met Golden Boy’s. The other man appeared to stop in his tracks, just staring for a moment. Bravely, Peter threw him a wink before pushing off the sand and diving further into the water.

By late afternoon, they both started walking toward the other at the same time, unintentionally colliding mid-walk. They saw each other at a distance, slowly approaching each other in the sea of people around them. As they got closer, they both slowed, coming to a stop in front of each other. Peter looked down at the tide washing over their feet, not sure what to say to the person in front of him.

“In all the years I’ve been coming here, I’ve never decided to take a walk on my own,” Tony shared quietly. “I blame you for all the exercise I’ve done today”.

Peter let out a loud laugh, unable to stop the snort that accompanied it.

“That’s about the best thing I’ve ever been blamed for, so I’ll take it”. 

Peter smiled up at Golden Boy, unable to resist. He extended a hand between them, gripping tightly when the other man reciprocated the gesture.

“I’m Peter”.

“Nice to meet you Peter, I’m Tony”.

“Tony,” Peter repeated with a smile. “It’ll be nice to stop referring to you as Golden Boy in my head,” he admitted.

“I don’t know, I might prefer that,” Tony chuckled.

They dropped the hands between them, and Peter returned his gaze to the sand, unsure how to continue their conversation. Tony interrupted his thoughts before he could get too unsure of himself.

“Well, since we’re both walking, we could walk together?” Tony asked carefully.

Peter nodded, excited at the prospect of getting to talk to Tony a bit longer. 

The two men walked for nearly an hour, completely unaware of time passing or any obligations they had to their respective families. Peter learned that Tony had been visiting this same beach for years but usually came much later in the summer. Peter blushed when Tony noted it was a shame it took this long for them to cross paths. Peter talked about living in Boston and Tony lit up, excitedly sharing that he’d gone to MIT before moving to New York City. The two of them swapped favorite stories and traditions at the beach, embarrassing moments from college, and agreed that the working world was far more terrifying than they expected. 

At some point, they turned around and started walking back toward both of their houses. When they finally made it back to Peter’s house, they came to a stop. May had already headed up to the house, just Peter’s chair remained under the umbrella.

“Are you free at all tomorrow?” Peter asked before he could think too long about it.

“I have a very busy day of doing nothing on the beach,” Tony grinned.

“Can I steal you for a couple of hours in the afternoon?” Peter requested.

“Absolutely, Petey. I’ll meet you here at two o’clock?”

“That’s perfect, Tony”. 

Tony reached out to take one of Peter’s hands, squeezing tightly before turning and continuing down the beach toward his house. Peter quickly gathered the last of his belongings on the beach before turning toward their walkway. He took one glance in Tony’s direction, thrilled to see Tony looking back at him over his shoulder. They shared a quick smile before nodding and heading off.

When Peter opened the sliding glass door to the living room, he was met with May’s knowing gaze. He smiled, knowing she’d see right through it.

“So, I uh, I need the car tomorrow afternoon,” he explained.

“Is that so?” May asked with a smile. “Does this have to do with your sudden interest in beach walks? It’s romantic, don’t get me wrong, but not really your style,” she pressed.

Peter sighed, sitting down across from her. “His name is Tony. I don’t know May, there’s just something about him. He’s brilliant, makes me laugh, makes me feel,” he paused, “important, somehow. I know that sounds nuts, but, uh, yeah. I’m taking him mini-golfing tomorrow”.

May just nodded, happy to see Peter excited about someone. “Well, I expect a full report tomorrow night”.

With that, May left the living room, squeezing Peter’s shoulder on her way toward the kitchen. Peter was grateful for the easy relationship they’d always had. They were everything to each other for as long as Peter could remember and he would never take that for granted. 

The rest of the evening and the following morning were uneventful for both Peter and Tony. Both men went about their respective routines and family traditions, counting the minutes until their date. Tony’s parents had pressed him when he arrived home after the walk with Peter, mostly concerned about his absence from cocktail hour. He brushed them off, letting them know he’d be out for a few hours the following afternoon. His dad hadn’t thought twice about it, but Tony didn’t miss the small smile on his mother’s face, curious about her son’s happy demeanor.

On the beach the next day, Peter refrained from taking any walks down the beach, not wanting to appear too excited to see Tony. He knew they would have some time to themselves later, and that was more than enough to look forward too. Tony, apparently, got roped into another walk with his parents and smiled widely when he passed Peter in the middle of the day. May glanced up, watching the interaction between Peter and Tony, smiling to herself at the way Tony looked at her nephew.

A few minutes before two o’clock, Peter was showered and ready, dressed in casual shorts and a t-shirt. It was far too warm for anything nicer, even for a first date. He perched himself on the railing of their walkway, facing the direction of Tony’s house, eagerly awaiting the other man. When he saw Tony emerge from the crowds of people on the beach, it felt like his breath had been knocked out of his lungs. Tony was wearing slim-cut shorts that ended just above his knees, and a short sleeve button up that hugged his waist. His golden skin went on for miles, and Peter couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Before he knew it, Tony had ascended the few steps and came to a stop directly in front of Peter. 

“Tony, you look incredible,” Peter breathed.

“Thank you,” Tony blushed. “You look lovely as well, Peter”.

He smiled, hopping down from his perch on the railing. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Tony answered easily. “Although, you never did tell me what you have planned for us”.

“How do you feel about mini-golf?” Peter asked.

“You’re on Pete,” Tony beamed.

They made their way to the car, and Peter led Tony to the passenger door before opening it for him. Tony smiled a brilliant, heart-stopping smile, and Peter had to fight the urge to comment on it out loud. The drive to the mini-golf course was comfortable. The radio played quietly while Tony and Peter chatted about their music preferences, both sharing a love of live music and concerts. They laughed when they discovered they’d attended the same Shakey Graves show in Boston a couple of years prior.

Peter pulled into his favorite mini-golf course, the same one he and May used to come to every summer. He and Tony were surprised to find the course mostly empty, pleased to have the place almost to themselves. Once they were situated with their colorful golf balls and putters, they approached the first hole.

“I feel like now is the time to tell you that I’m really good at this,” Tony said as he lined up his first putt. 

“Well, I’m absolutely terrible, so we’re in for a fun afternoon,” Peter laughed.

True to their words, the first couple of holes were smooth sailing for Tony, easily navigating windmills and tunnels, while Peter just tried not to hit his golf ball out of bounds. They shared easy smiles and soft touches as they passed each other between putts. When Peter launched a putt clear over the barrier, Tony just winked as he replaced the ball, giving him several do-overs.

“How did you get so good at mini-golf anyway?” Peter asked as they walked toward the next tee.

“So full disclosure, I’m a total nerd,” Tony began. “I studied physics in college and my friends and I used to make our own little courses to try and stump each other. They got crazier over the years, it just became our thing”.

“You’re right, you are a nerd, but that also sounds amazing,” Peter chuckled.

“It’s still a thing too,” Tony continued. “My best friend Rhodey is getting married later this year and his bachelor party is going to be one big homemade mini-golf course, designed by yours truly”.

“You have a lot going on in that head, don’t you?” Peter inquired, turning to head for the next hole.

Tony just shrugged. “I guess so, I’ve just gotten used to it over the years. I am pretty hyperactive though,” he admitted with a touch of self-deprecation.

Their hands were hanging between them, nearly close enough to brush pinkies. In a moment of bravery, Peter reached out and squeezed Tony’s hand tightly, hoping to convey even a fraction of the thoughts and feelings swirling inside of him. Tony gripped back, just as tightly, smiling over at Peter. 

The rest of the course passed in a similar fashion. Tony gave Peter all the extra shots he wanted while absolutely smoking Peter with too many holes-in-one to count. They held hands each time they advanced to the next hole, grinning at each other every time. As they approached the final hole, complete with an upside-down loop, Peter was determined to get it on the first try. 

Tony stepped up first, demonstrating where to aim and how hard to hit, making it through the loop easily. His red golf ball rolled easily down the turf, dropping into the cup.

Peter pouted slightly. “Now that’s just unfair”.

Tony laughed, walking down the path toward the loop. He used his putter to point out where Peter should aim. “Aim for this right here, and hit it harder than you think you need to, nice and easy”.

Peter rolled his eyes, stepping up to his blue golf ball. He checked his aim, rolled his shoulders, and took a deep breath. He swung back and through, feeling the solid contact with the putter. He watched the golf ball glide down the turf, taking the loop with ease and slowly approaching the cup. He held his breath, willing the ball to make it to the lip of the cup. He dashed down to where Tony was standing so he could see how far his shot made it. When he saw the little blue golf ball just barely drop into the cup, he threw his arms up in celebration.

“Yes!” he exclaimed.

Tony erupted with loud applause, cheering for Peter’s success. Peter absolutely beamed at him, and Tony was taken aback by the beauty in front of him. Without much thought, he wrapped Peter up in a big hug. Peter’s arms were trapped between their torsos, but he was more than happy at that moment. He couldn’t understand why he was so excited about silly mini-golf shot, but if it meant Tony hugging him like this, he wouldn’t question it.

When they pulled back from the hug, they both smiled at each other, happy and carefree. They were pulled out of their reverie by a father and daughter approaching, clearly trying to finish their own round of golf. Peter blushed, grabbing Tony’s hand and dragging him toward the little clubhouse to drop off their putters. They continued holding hands as they walked toward the car and this time, Tony approached the driver’s side to open the door for Peter, waiting until he was settled before shutting the door firmly.

Peter grinned widely, waiting for Tony to round the car and get settled on the passenger side. As soon as they were set, they started back toward the beach. Tony shared more stories about college at MIT and his favorite parts of Boston. Peter took it all in, still figuring out the city he now called home. Tony made several restaurant recommendations, most of which Peter hadn’t even heard of yet. As they turned down the quiet street leading to their houses, Tony directed Peter a bit further to his own driveway. 

Before exiting the car, Tony turned to Peter with a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Thank you Peter, I haven’t had that much fun in a while, honestly.”

“Me too, Tony. Come find me on the beach tomorrow morning?” He asked hopefully.

“You bet, Petey”.

The next morning, Tony did exactly that. Peter had just gotten settled under the umbrella with May, an extra chair next to him, when Tony approached. May smiled but kept her attention trained on the book she was reading, giving Peter some privacy. Peter stood, smiling widely at Tony.

“You came,” he said with relief.

“Of course I did”.

Tony came in close, giving Peter a tight hug before stepping away to introduce himself to May.

“You must be Ms. Parker,” Tony said, extending his hand as May rose to her feet.

“Oh lord, please call me May, honey”.

“May, it’s great to meet you, I’m Tony. Thank you so much for letting me crash your beach day with Peter,” he said sincerely.

“Sure thing, Tony. What’s a good beach trip without good company?” May winked in Peter’s direction, making him groan with embarrassment. Even at 25 years old, May knew exactly how to embarrass him.

“Alright, enough of that. Tony, I brought you a chair and an extra towel,” Peter gestured toward the beach gear. 

May subtly scooted her chair a bit further over, giving the men some space of their own. 

Peter and Tony settled into their chairs, with just a hint of space between them. They spent the whole day lounging on the beach together, taking leisurely walks, and jumping in the ocean when the heat became unbearable. It was surprisingly easy to spend such an extended amount of time together. They never seemed to run out of things to talk about, but also sat in companionable quiet while reading and people-watching. Every so often, they would head up to the house, grabbing snacks and cold drinks for them and May. Peter quickly showed Tony around the house, loving the way Tony’s eyes widened with the stories he told throughout the short tour. 

The next day, Peter threw his beach gear in a bag and headed down the beach to Tony’s umbrellas. Tony had been more than willing to come back to Peter’s spot, but Peter insisted, wanting to see Tony in his own element. As he approached, Tony met him at the water’s edge, twining their hands together with a big smile.

“My parents are a lot,” he said quickly. “But my mom is excited to meet you”.

“I’m good with a lot, Tony”.

Tony pulled him toward the umbrellas in front of his house, his parents already standing from their chairs.

“Mom, Dad, this is Peter. His family’s house is down just past the big green one. Peter, this is my mom Maria and my dad Howard”.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Stark,” Peter greeted as he stepped forward to shake Maria’s hand. 

“Call us Maria and Howard, dear,” she said easily, smiling kindly at Peter.

Peter turned to Howard, shaking his hand with a firm grip and a small nod. Peter knew the relationship between Howard and Tony was tense, but he could see the love for his son in Howard’s eyes.

“Thank you so much for having me down here for a bit today,” he said, mimicking Tony’s statement to May.

“Nonsense, we’re happy to have you,” Maria waved off. 

Peter and Tony spent the say much like the previous one, laughing and smiling, sharing a few more touches as they got more comfortable with each other. At one point, Tony challenged Peter to a round of bocce ball and hauled his family’s set up from the house. Their competitive spirits kept them entertained for a while, each man throwing the Palina further away than the last round. After one too many close calls with the dog in the group next to them, they packed up the set and settled on a swim, desperate to rinse the sand off. 

Peter wasn’t sure what happened when they got in the water, but suddenly it was as if magnets pulled them closer together, unable to separate for too long. They floated out to shoulder-deep water and Tony felt Peter’s arms wind around his waist, pulling him in close. Embracing the buoyancy of the water, Tony allowed himself to be pulled into Peter and wrapped his legs around Peter’s waist, his arms settling around Peter’s neck. Water-slick skin slid together easily, and Tony found himself bobbing with the current, secure in Peter’s grasp.

“Hey there, Pete,” he breathed, his nose nearly pressed against Peter’s.

“Is this okay Tony? I just couldn’t help myself,” Peter admitted shyly.

“More than okay, as long as you don’t dunk me under a wave”.

They stayed like that, just holding each other close, bouncing with the waves, enjoying the feeling of being pressed together. They were both avoiding the same topic, neither wanting to break the spell they’d fallen under together. Eventually, Tony leaned his head into Peter’s shoulder, sighing loudly.

“So, we leave tomorrow,” Peter began.

“If we ignore it, maybe it won’t happen,” Tony pouted.

Peter squeezed Tony tightly. “What do you want to happen, Tony? After we leave tomorrow, anything can happen,” he murmured.

“I want us to keep doing this. I mean, obviously we can’t stay in an ocean forever, but I want there to be an us”. Tony lifted his head from where it was resting against Peter’s shoulders, gauging the other man’s reaction.

Peter leaned in, closing the minimal distance between them and pressed a salty kiss to Tony’s lips. He kept one hand secured around Tony’s waist and brought the other one up to tangle in Tony’s hair, holding him close as if the waves would carry him away. Tony hummed against Peter’s lips, tightening his arms around Peter’s shoulders.

A wave knocked them off balance, causing them to pull back with a gasp. Once he had his feet under him again, Peter smiled at Tony.

“I’d very much like for there to be an us too, Tony”.

“New York and Boston really aren’t that far apart, right?” 

“Definitely not too far,” Peter agreed. “We should probably head up, huh? I promised May I’d be back in time to make dinner”.

“Only if you let me steal you in the morning before we go. Just a quick walk?”

“Sounds perfect Tony”.

With that, Tony unwound his legs from Peter’s waist, opting to grab his hand as they made their way toward the shore. Once Peter had his beach bag in hand, Tony leaned in to leave a quick kiss on Peter’s cheek.

“See you bright and early, Pete”.

“Bright and early, Tones”.

When Peter finally made it back to the house, May was waiting on the porch. He knew his smile gave him away when May raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“So, not just a beach fling, Peter?”

Peter shook his head. “Not just a beach fling”.

With that, Peter headed inside for a quick shower before starting on dinner for the two of them. He felt bad that he hadn’t spent as much time with May this trip, so he planned to make it up to her that night. Once dinner was ready and they were seated on the porch, he couldn’t help but gush about Tony. May just smiled, trying to remember seeing Peter this excited about something. 

“So, when are you gonna visit him?” she asked.

“Um, we haven’t really talked about it yet. I guess we’ll just see how things go for now,” he said nervously.

“Make plans before we leave Peter. Distance is hard, but having a date to look forward to makes things easier, May advised.

Their conversation shifted after that, and they talked late into the night wishing their vacation would never end. Before Peter went to sleep that night, he checked his calendar for open weekends, wondering how soon he could visit Tony. On a whim, he bought a train ticket to New York for just over a month later, hoping Tony wouldn’t find it aggressive. He went to sleep with a smile on his face, hopeful for what was to come.

At eight o’clock the next morning Tony and Peter met up on the beach, about halfway between their houses, exactly where they’d collided on a walk just a few days prior. Time moved differently that week; Peter felt as if he’d known Tony much longer than he had.

They joined hands and walked quietly, enjoying the emptiness of the beach as most families were packing up and leaving that day. They smiled as they passed by some other folks soaking up their last few breaths of salty air, doing the same thing themselves.

Tony was the one to break the silence after a while. “This feels silly at this point, but um, can I have your number?”

Peter cracked up at that, looking over at Tony who smiled right back at him. He reached for his phone and handed it to Tony, encouraging him to enter his information. He immediately fired off a quick text and heard Tony’s phone ping in his pocket.

“This might be too much too soon,” Peter started, “but I bought a train ticket to New York City at the end of next month. I just wanted us to have tentative plans to see each other, but I can always change it,” he rushed out.

Tony stopped walking, using his grip on Peter’s hand to pull him in close. He pressed a tender kiss to Peter’s lips, lingering for just a moment before pulling back. 

“I guess now’s a good time to tell you that I bought a train ticket to Boston in two weeks,” Tony admitted sheepishly. “I couldn’t bear the thought of not knowing when I’d get to see you next and I got a little eager”.

Peter was speechless and blown away by Tony. He fisted one hand in Tony’s shirt, the other in his curls as he pressed his forehead against Tony’s own. “Tony,” he breathed. 

“I’m not letting you get away, Pete,” Tony murmured softly.

“Right back at you, Golden Boy”.

[twokinkybeans]

Pale Rose - Lion Whisperer AU Chapter 2 [Starker]

Chapter 2: Mister Six AM. Peter groans as he turns around in his bed to slap the alarm. The sun is already shining through the curtains and he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. Peter cracks his back and sighs, slowly raising his hand again to grab his phone. He unplugs it from the charger and frowns when he sees a wall of notifications. He puts in his code and opens his email first. He gasps when he reads his daily donation update. Their donation goal of 100k dollars was met. And kicked out of the park by another 560k. The number of separate donations has him lose his breath. How did so many people find this fundraiser? Peter opens the next email. YouTube contacted him to… Congratulate him? Peter’s eyes go wide when he sees the number in the email and he immediately switches apps to check his YouTube account. How many subscribers did he have yesterday? Around 700k? 

“Holy shit…” he mumbles. 1.8 million subscribers . Peter jolts to sit upright in his bed, his bare chest uncovered from the thin sheet as he scrolls through the countless new comments he has. He pants, not believing what is happening. He’s pretty sure he can’t even read all of them anymore at this point. On his most recent video, the most liked comment sparks his interest. Who else is here because of Tony Stark?

“Oh, no, he didn’t.” Peter switches apps again and opens his Instagram. He stares at another wall of notifications and opts to just turn them off for people who aren’t mutuals. He’s about to hit the search bar to find Tony Stark’s Instagram in the list of people he follows, but with his notification wall compressed to just mutuals, one shines through.

Tony Stark now follows you. They’re mutuals now. Peter immediately hits his account and stares at the latest post. It’s a candid of Peter with Adi and Nedda. Tony didn’t have a phone with him, though, or a camera. How could he have taken this picture? Peter’s breath is stuck in his throat as he scrolls down to the caption, almost afraid of what he might read. Meet Peter Parker. A bright sun, that rivals the one up in the sky, who also happens to work with cats. Big cats. Wakanda’s Sanctuary, almost 300k square feet of land, is the home of lions and other animals that are native to Africa. There, Peter takes care of the animals that are endangered because of human interference. Animals that can no longer be released into the wild; that were saved from horrible private zoos or who fell victim to poachers. I was blessed with both a terrible sunburn and a generous conversation with Peter, in which he told me about his goals to raise money in order to fight poaching and to raise awareness for climate change. I do encourage all of you to watch at least one of his videos, just to get to know him and his feline friends a little better and to give him that small bit of ad revenue to help him achieve his goals. The world would be a better place if we were all a little bit more like Peter Parker. Peter stares at his screen, his cheeks flushed red at the endless stream of compliments. Peter reads over the last line again and again and again and again. Tony’s post got him this increase in subscribers. Tony’s post got him all of those donations. This was all because of Tony. Peter tears his eyes away from the phone to look at the small card on his bedside table. Matte black. No name. Just a phone number. Tony’s phone number. Maybe doing a collab with the billionaire philanthropist isn’t such a bad idea after all... - Peter assesses himself in the mirror. He’s never been this nervous for a video before. Or, ever at all, really. Tony Stark immediately agreed to being present for the move. Even on the phone, the man had been incredibly charming. Peter ruffles his hair in an attempt to make it look good, while sucking at his teeth. He swears quietly, knowing spending time with the lions will mess his do up again anyways. Peter opts to not think too much about it and covers himself head to toe in sunscreen, as he does every morning. He takes one last glance in the mirror before grabbing his baseball cap and putting on his walking shoes. When Peter opens the front door of his apartment at The Sanctuary he gulps and immediately walks back in to throw the door shut with a loud bang. Tony was already there. Right outside his small, messy room. Peter saw him well enough to have the image of Tony’s outfit stuck in front of his eyes. Camo shorts, brown walking shoes and a green shirt. His brown tinted pilot sunglasses hide his eyes mysteriously and fuck. He looks hot. Peter takes a deep breath in through his nose and closes his eyes, trying to calm his nerves. “Here we go…” he whispers to nobody but himself and when he opens the door again, he yelps, refraining from throwing it shut straight away again. Tony’s right in front of him, hand raised to knock on Peter’s door. The older man cocks his head and smiles. “Morning, Rose,” Tony quips. Peter swallows his breath and chokes when he hears the nickname. “You rushed back in, so I figured I’d come say hi.” “Yeah!” Peter exclaims, laughing sheepishly. “I- eh… I saw you didn’t bring a cap. I was gonna grab you one.” He presses his lips together in a smile. Yes. Good excuse. “A… cap?” “Yeah, a cap.” Peter doesn’t know what to say next and awkwardly stares at Tony’s features. “Should I have brought a cap, then?” Peter jolts when Tony speaks again and he points at his own head. “You get sunburnt at the top of your head quickly out there and I’m guessing you don’t want to put sunscreen on your scalp, so…” Peter swiftly takes off his own hat and pushes it onto Tony’s head. The man is startled by the gesture, but doesn’t protest. Peter stares at the man wide-eyed when he realizes what he just did. “-Ah,” he stutters. “Sorry about that, I should’ve asked, shit-” “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Tony laughs. “I get it, okay? When we first met I was just the random dude you see in the news occasionally and now I completely flipped your life with one post you didn’t want me to make.” Peter stands frozen in place, staring at Tony and pretends that that is exactly the reason why he’s so flustered. “I’m sorry for not asking permission. That’s on me. But- please- don’t feel like you have to do anything for me, okay? You don’t get the title of philanthropist by asking for things in return.” Peter takes a step back and looks at his feet with a frown. Tony clears his throat. “So, what are you gonna use for your head?” Peter looks up so he can stare at Tony again. Tony gestures towards Peter’s hair by nodding. “You just pressed your cap on me. Thank you for letting me borrow it, by the way, but don’t you need the protection as well?” “Right!” Peter exclaims, turning to fall on his knees and crawl under the bed to get a small box. He takes out an old, slightly more worn cap and waves it in front of his own face. “That’ll do.” - “Good morning everybody,” Peter smiles at the GoPro in his hand. “It is currently 7am, we got a busy day ahead of us: we’re going to be switching enclosures for two prides and if that goes smoothly, we’ll hopefully be taking Adi, Nedda and Beru for a walk this afternoon.” Peter looks down at his feet for a second and then back up into the lens with a wide grin. “Now, you must be wondering why I say ‘we’ for the walk, as that’s a thing I do without the volunteers of The Sanctuary, but I actually have a very special guest with me today!” Peter turns around quickly, whipping the camera with him until Tony enters the shot behind him. The man smirks and cocks an eyebrow. “Hello, there.” Peter feels Tony’s hot breath in his neck and has to stay focussed on the camera so as to not to lose his composure. A lot of people are gonna watch this video, simply because Tony Stark is in it, so he has to sell this right. For the lions. At least, that’s what Peter tells himself. “Tony Stark!” “Me!” Tony raises his hands above his head and they both pull a face, resulting in the both of them bursting out with laughter. “So,” Peter says, angling his camera correctly again. “A lot of you peeps have been asking me to make a video from the perspective of someone visiting The Sanctuary as opposed to just me with the GoPro attached to my arm, so I figured I could take this opportunity to see how well you handle a camera, Mr. Stark.” Peter presents the GoPro to Tony who looks at Peter’s fingers for a second. He really doesn’t like to be handed things, but every molecule inside his body is screaming at him to touch the boy, so he does something he rarely allows. With a grin, he takes the camera out of Peter’s hands, lingering a little longer than necessary and turns it until he’s no longer in shot. Instead, Peter’s all the viewer is able to see now. “Hey!” Peter exclaims. “You’re in this vid too!” “Yes, but you are infinitely more interesting to look at.”  Peter scratches the back of his head and looks down, trying to hide his blush behind the worn cap. Tony clears his throat. “You doing your work, kid.” Saved it , Tony hopes. “Don’t think anybody goes to the Sanctuary Channel to watch my face.” “Well-” Peter exclaims, standing upright again with his lips pressed on top of each other. “I was also thinking that this video will be the one most people get introduced to my channel with because- well… You’re in it.” Peter nods, holding his chin with his thumb and index finger. “So, yeah, you can ask me anything that comes to mind. Doesn’t matter if I’ve touched on it before in other vids.” “Well, then, Mr. Parker-” “Peter,” the young man interrupts him. “Feel so old when people call me that.” “Sheesh, kid, you’re what, 22? Just a few days ago you were talking to me about retirement- we’re in the 21st century, people live ‘til 85 at least.” Peter laughs and boy, does Tony love making him laugh. “For the record,” Peter chuckles. “I’m 23. So that’s way older than 22.” Tony snorts. “And my workfield isn’t exactly without danger, Mr. Stark.” “Ha!” Tony exclaims. “Way to make me feel old, kid.” “But-” “If I’m not allowed to call you mister than you’re not calling me that either. Tony, kid. Call me Tony.” Peter hides his face behind his hands. “I’m gonna have to spend a whole day editing this vid, don’t I?” “Probably.” - “Alright!” Peter says excitedly as he hops into the truck. He slowly drives over the Sanctuary grounds.  “Your timing is actually quite ironic, since we’re moving the Avengers today.” “The- oh?” Tony pretends he wasn’t already aware of this. He’s seen the videos of this particular pride. He knows what’s coming. He puts the camera diagonally and Peter chuckles, trying to steer with one hand while flailing slightly with his other to make Tony hold the camera straight again. “A group of four males. Banner, Thor, Rogers and-” Peter cocks one eyebrow with a smirk. “Stark.” “You named a lion after me?” Tony feigns his surprise with a wide smile and Peter scoffs a laugh. “These boys joined The Sanctuary as cubs about four years ago. Were all part of a circus.” Tony snorts and has to stop himself from losing his composure. “That’s not far off from the real thing,” he jokes. Peter presses his lips on top of each other in a grin. “Trust me, Mr- Tony.” Peter gently hits the brake and they slow down. “It’s quite scary.” “Says the kid who works with lions for a living.” “And hyenas,” Peter adds quickly. “And leopards.” “No black panthers?” “That’s the leopards,” Peter chuckles. “Leopards that are melanistic are commonly known as black panthers. But they’re still leopards, really.” Peter shrugs nonchalantly. Tony sniffs once. He’s getting schooled by a boy less than half his age. But he enjoys it. Somehow. Most of the volunteers were already waiting for Peter at the enclosure. There’s a large truck with a cage on top and a lot more commotion than Tony expected. “If you told me there’d be this many people I’d have prepped a speech,” Tony quips. Peter sighs dramatically and gets out of the truck. Tony follows swiftly and stares at how Peter speaks Xhosa with the other volunteers. It looks funny, almost, seeing a white boy speak the language so easily- fluently. After a minute, Tony grows bored, so he turns the camera to face him and pulls a few funny faces at it. When he realizes this video is going to be seen by a lot of people, he brings the GoPro closer to his face and whispers. “That was for your eyes only, Mr. Parker,” he grins.  “Tony?” The older man looks up from the lens when Peter calls out for him and subconsciously, Tony smiles wide at the mention of his name. “You ready for the good part?” Peter shuffles past a few of the volunteers towards the gate and Tony makes his way over to fencing. “Oh, I am very curious, kid.”  It’s not long before Peter’s by himself in the enclosure, the gate closed behind him. He casually strolls around, calling out the names of each pride member. Tony can’t help himself and inches closer to the fence.  “So, these lions are four years old?” “Nearing five, yeah. They were only a couple months old when we found them. Sure made a wreck of my house when I raised them,” Peter laughs. “Pro-tip-” He raises one hand and only now Tony notices Peter’s holding a small chunk of meat in it. “-if you ever raise lion cubs; two at the same time tops. Not three. Never four. Four will make you so sleep deprived you think you have five cubs on your bed.” The boy chuckles at his own comment. “That was an interesting night…” Tony shakes his head with a wide grin. “I can imagine.” Peter suddenly cocks his head- listening. He turns and spots the first lion slowly making his way towards him. “M- Tony,” Peter says, looking back at the billionaire for a second. “Meet Rogers.” “Already have,” Tony groans, which makes Peter laugh. His focus immediately shifts to the lion and he squats, preparing himself for the imminent cuddles. He tosses the meat from his hand directly into the lion’s mouth. “Rogers is the most fragile of the pride. He was severely malnourished when he came here and though he bounced back, the joints in his back legs are not great. M’gonna have to help him get into the truck.” Tony listens carefully. Peter’s voice is sweet and soft. The white lion huffs friendly and presses himself against Peter, who pushes back against him with his head. When Peter opens his eyes, he nods at another lion approaching in the distance. “That’s Banner. He’s curious, but incredibly shy. Also the smallest of this pride. If none of you were here he’d come say hi, but the volunteers make him nervous, so he’ll probably keep an eye on us from over there.” Peter nods in the general direction of where the lion is and Tony turns the camera to get a shot of Banner. Not much later, a gigantic white lion approaches. He holds his head high and has a big mane. When he gets closer, Rogers immediately pulls back and lays down next to Peter. The big white lion claims Peter’s space and attention and the boy laughs as he pets him. “Thor’s the biggest- OOF!” The lion drops his weight on top of Peter, whose smile doesn’t falter. “Also the heaviest,” he adds. The lion huffs once, almost as if he’s protesting against Peter’s comments. “And the loudest.” Peter scratches Thor under his chin and the lion automatically opens his mouth right next to Peter’s face. His head could fit in there twice. At least. And the teeth are absolutely gigantic. The sight has shivers run down Tony’s spine. This is normal . This is Peter’s life. He knows what he’s doing, the boy does this every day. Tony bites the inside of his cheek. Lions. These animals are lions . Yet they act like house cats around him. Thor gets up again and without any incentive, he jumps into the truck. “He knows what’s up,” Tony laughs as he turns to the truck to take a shot of Thor from close by. He’s startled by a low rumble coming from Thor’s throat. “Is that purring?” he asks nervously. Peter stands up again, patting some dirt from the back of his shorts. “Lions don’t purr, that’s a growl. You better take a step back Mr- Tony.” Tony would make an offhand comment on how even though Peter corrects himself, he still ends up calling him mister, if not for the lion’s growls increasing in volume. He takes a hasty step back and Peter tosses another chunk of meat into the truck for Thor to eat. “The only big cats that purr are cheetahs and cougars.” “Now, that’s a fun fact. Good to know,” Tony says sheepishly, trying to hide his nerves.  Tony frowns when Peter gets onto his knees in front of the truck.  “What are you doing?” “Helping Rogers.” “You’re gonna let that gigantic beast step on you?” “Better than lifting him,” Peter quips back. He turns his head and whistles. “Rogie- Rogie, boy, come on!” Peter’s voice is high as he coos at the lion. Tony presses his lips on top of each other to stifle a laugh. Rogie, boy. He should remember that one for the real Steve. Rogers responds like a trained dog, but skips Peter completely by putting his front legs against the truck. He hops, but can’t actually get in. “Buddy, your balls are in my face, could you please get up?” Peter pats Rogers’ thigh before quickly placing his hand down again to brace himself. With great difficulty, the lion places one foot on Peter’s shoulder, not pressing his full weight down on the boy. It was enough of a step to help him get in, though. Peter stands up straight again with a triumphant look on his face. He tosses another chunk of meat into the truck and Steve takes it gladly. Thor had already laid down again, not too bothered anymore. Peter cocks his head at Banner, who’s still a bit away, but has decided to come a little closer when he noticed Thor and Steve entering the truck. Peter smiles kindly and squats, presenting a chunk of meat to the shy lion. Tony is absolutely enthralled by Peter’s control. The boy seems relaxed but if you look closely you can see how in tune he is with everything. How he keeps an eye on his surroundings. Banner creeps closer and when he’s next to Peter, it’s obvious how small he actually is. His mane is also way shorter than that of the other two. Tony stares wide-eyed at how Peter handfeeds Bruce the piece of meat. Handfeeds . “Not scared you’re gonna lose a hand?” “Nah,” Peter replies quietly. “Occupational hazard. And I trust my lions more than I trust humans, to be fair.” “Ouch,” Tony says to make light of the situation, trying to hide how that comment actually kind of stung. Peter chuckles, combing Banner’s short mane with his fingers. “We met three days ago, m- Tony.” “Does it really take you that much effort not to call me mister?” Tony laughs, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction. “I was raised with manners.” He grins at Tony and tosses the next piece of meat into the truck. Banner doesn’t hesitate anymore and jumps into the truck as well. “It physically hurts me not to call you mister.” “Sure, kid.” Tony zooms in on Peter’s face. “Well then, if I get to call you Parker you have permission to call me Mr. Stark.” “Deal!” Peter exclaims immediately. The boy’s smile is so bright Tony is pretty sure he’d be blinded by it if he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. After another minute, the lions in the truck are getting a little restless. Peter sighs audibly and turns to face the enclosure. “You can guess who’s fashionably late.” Peter glances at Tony behind him. “As per usual.” “Time management is not my strong suit! And I was early this morning,” Tony laughs. Peter places his hands on his hips, guiding Tony’s eyes to look at the boy’s pert butt. He quickly looks back up at the back of Peter’s head. Now’s not the time for filthy thoughts… Maybe later. “Staaark!” Peter belts. “Here, boy!” Peter makes a couple of those funny noises he made when Tony first met him. “Why do you do all that? Those… Uwus?” “Wha- the noises?” Peter snorts. “Can’t believe Tony Stark just said uwu.” “Hey-” the older man protests. “You said it first! And I am hip with the youngsters.” “You know what? I suddenly don’t feel so old anymore,” Peter says with a grin.  “You, Parker, are a meanie.” Tony points accusingly and Peter laughs. “Ouchies, that huwt my feewings.”  “Just explain the noise, please-” Tony lets out an overdramatic exasperated sigh, indicating to Peter that he’s not actually annoyed. Entertained, would be the right word. Peter nods with a smile and turns back to face the enclosure so he can make the sound once more. “The huffing is actually me mimicking the sound of a mama-lion,” Peter laughs. “It’s comforting to them.” “See, you could’ve just said that straight away.” Peter shrugs nonchalantly, but before he can reply with another quick-witted comment, they all spot the dark mane emerging from the bushes. Stark really does take his time, slowly placing each paw in front of the other, as if he’s on a catwalk. Tony chuckles at his own thought. Catwalk . Stark stares at Peter as he crosses the distance between them and Peter preps himself by sitting down already. “Stark’s the most affectionate of the four,” Peter says as the lion presses into him. The force with which Stark rubs his face against Peter’s has the boy laugh and push back. “Next to Adi and Nedda, he probably likes me the most out of all the lions here.” He pats Stark’s back. “He’s also the most handsome of all the male lions in The Sanctuary. Hands down.” “Isn’t that subjective?” Tony asks quickly, pretending the indirect praise isn’t making him tingle. Peter shrugs before he buries his face in the dark mane for a second. “For lion standards, this is a pretty boy. Stark’s also the most sexually engaged.” Tony freezes up at how casually Peter talks about this. He wonders if Peter is actually indirectly talking about him. Not about the lion he’s petting. “That is, if we would breed here.” “You don’t?” “I don’t breed captive lions. The ones that we have in The Sanctuary are saved from situations that make them unable to be released back into the wild again. We spay every female to prevent them from reproducing.” “Why not the males?” “Spaying both is a lot of hassle for something that’s not necessary. If we were to neuter the males they would still be affected by the females’ cycles. That’s why we spay the females, who are unaffected by the males." “Ah, that makes sense.” Peter studies the near-black mane on Stark. “Should probably take these boys out for a walk tomorrow. Lower their testosterone a bit.” Peter looks up at Tony and gestures at Stark’s head of hair. “There were a couple of wild lionesses right outside The Sanctuary about a week ago. Stark must’ve picked up on them and their cycle ‘cause he’s a little sexually frustrated right now. As is evident by the dark colour of his mane.” Tony licks his lips. This isn’t happening. This isn’t actually happening. He shifts where he stands, hoping his shorts hide his own growing sexual frustration. Peter smiles wide and gets Stark’s attention by presenting a chunk of meat in front of the lion’s face. He tosses it into the truck and before the others in there can get to it, Stark has jumped in. Peter carefully closes the cage on top of the truck and nods at Tony, who still hasn’t said anything in an attempt to hide how flustered he is right now. “Let’s go!”

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More: Next Chapter (yet to be posted) Masterpost (yet to be made)

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Taglist: @professional-benaddict​ @tonystarkweneedyou​

[sunriserose1023]

Merry & Married {3}

SUMMARY: It’s been almost a year since the most humiliating moment of your life. You’ve done your best to move on—by literally moving across the country, starting a new job, and you’re finally starting to feel settled. That, of course, is when your bubblehead cousin sends you the invitation to her wedding—which is exactly one year to the day that you were left at the altar. You have to go, but you don’t have to go alone. Enter Bucky Barnes, the best friend you’ve ever had. You fill him in, and of course he agrees to go home with you. What are friends for? Never mind the fact that he’s desperately in love with you. And if you hadn’t sworn off men forever, you might just find him … attractive. So there you are, surrounded by love, bridesmaid dresses, champagne, and no less than one hundred sprigs of mistletoe. What could possibly go wrong? WORD COUNT: 1686 WARNINGS FOR THE SERIES: Emotional angst, presumably unrequited love, friends to lovers, fluff, happily ever after, written for the @heamarvel​​ Holiday Movie Challenge

Masterlist

“Fuck, New Orleans is bright.”

You giggled to yourself as Natasha frantically slid her sunglasses on. Beside you, Bucky made a face as he shrugged out of his coat and you nodded. 

“And humid. I don’t even want to think of how my hair’s going to look.”

Natasha shook her head.

“Home sweet home, right, Y/N?”

You nodded, swallowing hard as Bucky laid a hand on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and lifted a hand, gripping his for just a moment before you sighed. Natasha stood beside her suitcase, scrolling through her phone and you turned to look up at Bucky, a soft smile coming over your face when he smirked down at you, sunglasses hiding his blue eyes. 

“What?” “Nat, did you call a car?” “Yep. Should be pulling up any minute now.”

You broke the staring contest you were having with Bucky to smile over at her. 

“Think we can change the travel plans?”

Bucky groaned, shaking his head as he took another bite. You laughed at the powdered sugar in his beard and covering the front of his shirt. Natasha rolled her eyes, sitting back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. 

“It’s just fried dough.” “No, it’s a delicacy.”

You laughed again, at the words muffled by the bite in Bucky’s mouth. He looked to you, leaning in closer. 

“What’s it called again?” “A beignet.”

Natasha blew out a breath. 

“Yes, we are the quintessential New Orleans tourists, having beignets at Cafe Du Monde.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at Natasha. 

“Don’t be such a Grinch, Romanoff.”

You laughed as her green eyes narrowed, and you shook your head, sliding the plate away before Bucky was wearing more powdered sugar than he already was. You nodded to him. 

“Have you dunked it in the coffee yet?”

He nodded. 

“Thank God your cousin’s wedding isn’t here. I’d gain—“ “Diabetes.”

You laughed at Natasha’s knowing comment, as she picked up her coffee cup and took a sip. Bucky shook his head, taking another bite, passing the rest of the pastry towards you. You smiled and picked it up, dipping it in the pile of powdered sugar on the plate before taking a bite. You giggled when powdered sugar went all over your face and shirt, but you made no move to wipe it away when you saw the grin on Bucky’s face. He nodded to Natasha. 

“Take our picture.” “Oh, Buck—“ “You’re gorgeous, hush.”

You felt your cheeks warm as Natasha smiled, lifting her phone and snapping a pic of you and Bucky, powdered sugar all over your faces and clothes, lips curled in cheesy grins. 

The town you grew up in was about a three-hour drive from New Orleans. Natasha had ordered a car to take the three of you to the lake house, and you stared out the window as you drove over the long bridge out of New Orleans. Bucky sat across from you, Natasha beside you, both of them watching you. Natasha widened her eyes at Bucky and he gave a nod before he leaned forward. 

“Hey.”

You turned to face him and he smiled at you. 

“Tell me about the fam.”

Natasha gave a quiet laugh. 

“There’s a can of worms you don’t know you’re not ready to open.”

You smiled at her. 

“It’s too late. He’s already on the way to them.”

Natasha sighed, shaking her head. You smiled as you looked back to Bucky. 

“Well, the first person I’ll seek out is my mom.” “Don’t worry; you’ll love her. You’ve already met her, because she’s Y/N, just older.”

You rolled your eyes as Natasha smiled, then nodded. 

“Then we’ll have to find Nana.”

You looked to Bucky and grinned. 

“You’ll love Nana.”

Natasha vehemently nodded, leaning forward. 

“She’s as tall as I am—“ “Which isn’t saying much.”

You dodged the elbow Natasha tried to hit you with and you giggled. She rolled her eyes, then continued. 

“She’s also the one who taught me to take no shit.”

Bucky pursed his lips as he nodded. 

“Oh, good. A pre-Natasha Natasha.”

You nodded your head. 

“Everyone says Nat acts just like Nana did back in the day. But Nana can still hold her own.”

Bucky nodded and Natasha fluffed her hair as she spoke. 

“Nana and Papa had five daughters. Hence the reason our family is so big. I’ll take some, then Y/N can take over. First there’s Aunt Janet and Uncle Hank. They have Hope, who’s married to Scott Lang. Scott has a daughter named Cassie from a previous marriage, and Hope’s pregnant right now. They also have Carol.”

Bucky nodded. 

“Is she married?”

You and Natasha exchanged a glance. You shook your head as Natasha spoke out loud. 

“No, she’s a lesbian.”

Bucky flicked his eyes to you, and you lifted a shoulder and an eyebrow at the same time, almost like you were daring him to say something. He smiled back at you and you rolled your eyes, smiling as you looked to Natasha. 

“Do you think she’s bringing a plus one?” “Uh, it’s Carol. I’ll almost guarantee it.”

You looked back to Bucky. 

“Carol’s a bit of a … how can I put this politely?”

Natasha snorted. 

“Carol’s a hoe.”

Bucky barked out a laugh and you shook your head. 

“I love her to death, but she’s had more girlfriends than any sane person should have.” “She’s very intelligent, but has the worst taste in women.”

You nodded at Natasha, making a face. 

“Remember Sharon?”

Natasha groaned. 

“She was the human equivalent of watching paint dry. But she was better than Jessica.”

You widened your eyes and nodded your head. 

“Jessica was batshit insane.” “Bobbi was normal.” “Now, I liked Bobbi.” “But ever since …”

Natasha let her sentence trail off and you sighed as you looked to Bucky. 

“Carol was in the Air Force. She met Maria and they fell in love. They were in a terrible plane crash and Carol even had amnesia for a while. I thought that was just a plot point for soap operas, but it’s real.” “And it’s awful.”

You nodded. 

“When she finally did get her memories back, we had to tell her that Maria died and it … god, it was horrible.”

Bucky shook his head and you met his eyes again. 

“We love Carol. We’ve been through a lot with her, and we’re kind of protective.”

Bucky smiled and nodded. Natasha let out a breath, then picked her story back up. 

“Then there’s my mom. Good luck with her.”

You giggled. 

“I love Aunt Nadia. She’s such a bad bitch.”

Natasha nodded, and you leaned forward. 

“And Uncle Phil is the greatest.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and you laughed. 

“He’s the polar opposite of Nat and Aunt Nadia, but it just works somehow.”

Natasha shook her head, turning back to Bucky. 

“Then there’s Y/N’s mom. The light of her world and all that.”

You elbowed Natasha before she could dodge it and she laughed as you took over the story. 

“Next is Aunt May, who’s Darcy’s mom. She also has Peter. Uncle Ben had a little brother, Peter’s dad, and when Peter’s parents died, Ben and May adopted Peter.”

Natasha glanced down and you sighed as you looked at your hands in your lap. 

“Uncle Ben died a few years ago. Cancer.” “God, I’m sorry.”

Bucky reached over to take your hand, and you smiled as you laced your fingers through his. You glanced through the window, then back to Bucky. 

“The baby of the family is Aunt Pepper. Her real name’s Virginia, and I honestly have no clue where the nickname Pepper came from.” “Mom said it’s because she was spicy as a kid.” “But Aunt May told me that once Pepper discovered the spice pepper, she ate a ton of it on all her food. And one day Papa said ‘that's enough pepper,’ and I think my mom thought he meant Pepper as a nickname and not the spice. Then they all started calling her Pepper after that.”

You and Natasha shrugged as you exchanged a look, and you turned back to Bucky. 

“Pepper’s married to Tony and they have little Morgan.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and you smiled. 

“Pepper was sort of an unplanned surprise in the family, so she’s closer to our age than our moms’. Aunt May’s ten years older than her. And Pep and Tony had some issues getting pregnant, but they finally had Morgan.”

Bucky nodded, blowing out a breath. 

“That’s a lot.” “Oh, just wait until they’re all in the same room.”

You nodded at Natasha’s statement and Bucky leaned back in his seat. You smiled, kicking your foot out, your toes barely brushing his leg. He smiled when he looked to you and you smiled at him. Natasha slid over to the window, pulling her phone out and acting interested in it. Bucky leaned forward as you did and you let out a breath. 

“What are you thinking about, pretty girl?”

You sighed. 

“I don’t know. I’m nervous. I haven’t seen most of them since my wedding.” “Well, just from what you told me, it’s clear there’s a lot of love here.”

You nodded. 

“I’m just being stupid.” “You’re not stupid.”

You sighed, lifting your eyes to meet his. He took hold of your hands, giving you a soft smile. 

“If at any time you need a break or an escape or whatever, just look at me. I’ll get you out of there.” “But—“ “No buts. I don’t need to know the story, Y/N. If you need a minute to catch your breath, I’ll sneak you outside. No worries.”

You shook your head, a soft smile on your lips. 

“You’re too good to me, Bucky.”

He shook his head, staring at the top of yours when you glanced down at the hands he was still holding. 

“Well, what are friends for?”

The words tasted vile in his mouth, but the way you looked up and met his eyes, that soft smile on your lips almost made it worth it. 

Almost. 

TAGS: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​​, @walkingchemicalfire​​, @eileenalone​​, @mrsalh32611​​, @alexxcorona113​​, @ivoryhazlewood​​, @chaoticfanatic​​, @rhapsody-in-flannel​​, @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall​​, @captainchrisstan​​, @ninaminaromina​​, @geeksareunique​​, @allsortsofinterests​​, @nerdy-bookworm-1998​​, @misplacedorphan​​, @chrisevansgirl​​, @whimsicalatbest​​, @buckybarneshairpullingkink​​, @isaxhorror​​, @redhairedfeistynerd​, @n3rdybird​, @the-ss-acklestan​, @moonlessnight14​, @geeksareunique​

[moonbeambucky]

Addicted (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader Word Count: 3974 Warnings: angst, mentions of implied smut, fluff

Summary: Hearts break under the weight of buried feelings, longing for the chance at repair no matter the consequence.

A/N: This is my submission for @youngmoneymilla Eliza’s 5K Challenge. My prompt was “Quit You” by Lost Kings. Thank you as always to my Sam 💕 @buckyofthemyscira for beta reading! gif not mine

PART 1 | ADDICTED MASTERLIST

Bucky is a man of routine so typically any day he wakes up in his apartment is the same. Trudging out from his bedroom on staggered heavy feet he’ll yawn, stretching his arms out wide, letting out a loud hrrraaarh until he relaxes and lets his arms fall back at his side. His apartment is filled with many things he enjoys; large windows that let in the cool breeze, built in shelves brimming with books, his couch made of comfortable dark leather that faces a fireplace that’s no longer operational. He enjoys it all the same, admiring the ornate details in the mantle and pilasters, appreciating how they were crafted around the time he was born.

Life has changed tremendously since then and never in his wildest dreams did Bucky think he would end up where he is today. He had lots of dreams about his future, some that kept him going through the war. Meet a girl and get married, have a few kids running around the yard who would no doubt cause some mischief, just as he did. Now things weren’t as easy.

The idea of meeting someone alone was stressful. There were no more community dances that brought people together. There were clubs and bars, neither place he felt he belonged. Mostly everything was done on the internet now and that was the last place Bucky wanted to be.

Various searches of himself has proven that he is not well liked; putting his picture up on some sort of profile would be asking for trouble. It’s bad enough the Avengers have a group of “dedicated fans” that practically sleep outside the Tower, eagerly waiting at the chance to catch a glimpse of their favorite superhero.

Yeah, there was no way he was going to put his own picture up, and besides he couldn’t trust that the person behind their picture would be who they say they are. Trust doesn’t come easy for Bucky, not anymore. He still trusts Steve with his life, they’re practically brothers, and sure he trusts his teammates but strangers? Strangers who could be anyone behind their picture? Not a chance.

It’s not like any of that mattered anyway because even if he did meet someone what would the chances be that they didn’t run away the moment they realized who he was? Not Bucky Barnes the Avenger but the Winter Soldier, the fist of Hydra who slithered in the background of history, hands forever stained crimson from the horrors he’s inflicted on the world. He couldn’t handle any more guilt from his past.

And then a scarier thought crosses Bucky’s mind. What if they didn’t run? What if they understood his past and accepted him for who he is? It’s terrifying to think there would be someone who would give their heart to him openly. They would expect him to do the same. Bucky expects himself to do the same; that was his dream after all. To fall in love. To build a life together with someone. But he can’t. His heart is surrounded by a brick wall, reinforced by cement and steel. He can’t open himself up, he can’t give himself to someone because there is barely anything to give.

Recovery has not been easy since he broke free from the hold Hydra had on his mind. Some days he thinks about his past and his only emotion is anger. He screams and yells, shatters glass and punches walls until his hand is chalked in white as crumbles of plaster lay at the floor exposing the space in between the framing.

Other days he’s quiet and tearful, solemnly mourning those he promised he would return to. Hidden under a hoodie and sunglasses he visited his parents’ grave, leaving flowers beside the weathered stone that bore their names. He sought out his sister, metal fingertips tracing along the year she died. He just missed her.

Regret tends to fill out the rest of his moods, when he’s too tired to be angry but not tired enough to let things go. He thinks about all the time he wasted. Instead of hiding out all over Europe he should have seen his sister while she was still alive. At least visit her once before he left. But no, Bucky couldn’t. His mind told him Rebecca wouldn’t have wanted to see him anyway. By the time he returned from Wakanda she was gone.

Broken and empty, that is what Bucky Barnes feels. It’s why he needed to get away from his friends. It hurt too much to fake his happiness, especially on the days when every negative emotion swirled inside him like a tornado, ripping him apart piece by piece. He needed to get out, he needed his sanctuary and that’s when he found his home; that’s when he found Y/N.

Bucky never expected to fall for her. She was just a phone number given to him by Tony to call, a realtor tasked with finding him an apartment but she became so much more. She was hope incarnate, a light to guide him from the darkness. Y/N did more than find Bucky an apartment, she unlocked the part of himself that he hid away; buried deep in his soul, a cavernous pit clouded by thick and muddy thoughts that tell him he’s no good or that he doesn’t deserve happiness. But Y/N never saw any of that and so Bucky gave himself a chance.

He was captivated immediately by her smile and the way her eyes seemed to sparkle like brilliant diamonds when she looked at him. Bucky looked forward to every outing with her because it meant they would spend more time together. They got to know each other on a basic level, simple questions with simple answers but it left him aching for more.

Her voice was honey, full of sugar and sweetness and when she spoke her words stuck to him, seeping into the cracks of his broken soul making him feel whole. The dark skies of his mind parted to reveal sunshine in her smile. Around Y/N, Bucky felt light, like the bright and carefree man he was before the war had sucked all the color from his world.

He didn’t want to let this feeling go, to let her go. The brief time they spent together was never enough so when she found him the perfect apartment he made up every excuse not to take it. He needed to stay with Y/N, to watch her face light up with a smile when she greeted him, to hear the sweet sound of her laughter when he’s tried to make her laugh, to watch as her eyes deepen with desire when he dares to flirt.

The night they fucked replayed in his mind over and over again and he wasn’t ashamed to grow hard at the memory, stroke himself to the sweet vision of her writhing beneath him. He licked his lips remembering her taste; sweet as honey indeed.

From then on they fucked in all the apartments she showed him; up against the wall at a place near Wall Street, pounding into her in the Meatpacking District, going down on her Uptown. She ached to scream out in pleasure, to sing his praises louder than all the performers of Broadway together if they didn’t have to be discreet. Instead Bucky would press his lips to hers, swallow her moans, drown in her whimpers as her walls clenched down on his length, pulsating as she came.

Fucking all over the city was exciting and they nearly forgot Bucky was looking for an apartment until they came to one neither of them could deny was perfect. Even Bucky knew he shouldn’t pass up the opportunity for this place just to continue to see Y/N.

Moving in was easy. Bucky didn’t have many things to begin with and anything new that he needed were just a click away thanks to Stark. Furniture was delivered, clothes were unpacked, the fridge and pantry were stocked with everything he could possibly require.

This was just what Bucky wanted, finally, to be alone and yet he was lonely. He didn’t miss Sam’s teasing, or the silent smirk Natasha had when she knew just how much his buttons were being pushed. He didn’t miss the recipes Wanda was trying out or any of Tony’s spiels about his new tech. He didn’t even miss Steve. He would invite him over, maybe in a few days after he’s settled in, but really the only person he wanted to see was Y/N.

Bucky stared at her name in his phone, his fingers hovered over the screen. He had no reason to call her. In his mind he knew their business had concluded but his body has other thoughts. Her pussy was a drug and once he had a taste he craved it more than oxygen.

He texted Y/N to her surprise. She didn’t expect to hear from Bucky again even though he was all she could think about. What they had was always unspoken. Lustful glances, teasing smirks, wordless gestures that brought them together. Balls slapping against her ass as Bucky rocked into her, Y/N’s knees digging uncomfortably onto the tufted buttons of a couch but she didn’t care. Pain became pleasure as Bucky’s metal digits reached around to her clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive nub.

Y/N thought things were over after she found him his place. Her mind drifted to their time spent together, feeling heat burn her cheeks as she showed an apartment to a couple, one of several where she and Bucky had left their invisible mark. It was unlike her to sleep with a client, especially during what should have been a professional appointment, but there was something about Bucky she couldn’t put her finger on. All she knew was that from the moment their lips met she would never be the same again.

Y/N went to his apartment as soon as she finished work. Fireworks bursting within as she didn’t know what to expect other than she would be seeing him again, and that’s all she needed. Her finger buzzed his apartment and she floated up the stairs to his door. She didn’t even have the chance to knock as the heavy door opened, allowing her inside.

Bucky turned the locks without taking his eyes off of Y/N. Is it possible she was even more beautiful than when they last saw each other? It wasn’t long ago they were standing in the kitchen of this previously empty apartment as Bucky signed papers for the lease. He wondered if things had changed now that this place was his. No longer was there a need to keep quiet, to pick up fallen picture frames and knick-knacks knocked over by the rocking of their bodies together.

With Y/N here in his apartment he didn’t give a fuck what happened. He would fuck her until the legs of his couch collapsed, until the bed broke, until every surface has been blessed by the bareness of their bodies, anointed by the fluids of their lust.

She’s his new religion, a goddess of old come to life in the form of Y/N. Bucky dedicated himself to her, worshipping her like a sacrament. When their bodies connected she brought him to heaven, her name falling from his lips like a prayer and in the aftermath he watches with reverence as she sleeps beside him. The gentle rise and fall of her chest reminds him of her humanity even though her pussy is truly divine.  

And that’s the problem that Bucky faced. The sex was mind blowing and no matter how hard he comes he always aches for more but that was all. Their relationship was purely physical and the more Y/N came over the more Bucky forced himself into believing that’s how it had to stay.

Bucky had begun to develop feelings for her, feelings he knew he couldn’t act on. He wasn’t capable of giving someone what they needed, not emotionally. So he kept things as physical as possible. When she came over, she came over and over again and when she left they simply said goodbye. His lips were hers until they fucked but after that he couldn’t do it, forcing himself to hold back from pressing his lips against the softness of hers, to taste that sugary sweet balm she coats her lips in. Fuck. He’s addicted to every part of her.

He hates holding back. He wants to be hers fully but he just can’t. He wants to take her out to dinner, to go dancing, to stroll along the streets hand in hand, press his lips upon her temple and let her know how he feels. But he doesn’t. Bucky tries not to do anything that would fan the flame inside him he’s working so desperately to put out.

The barriers he put up were as sound as straw and Bucky has failed to mend them. When Y/N came over it’s not just about sex. They’ve gotten to know each other in the quiet moments they share together, laying in bed, curled up on the couch or when they sit down to eat.

Sometimes they order in and sometimes they’ll cook. Bucky never tells Y/N that’s one of his favorite things to do with her, coming together to fulfill a different type of craving. He loves the domesticity of it all, bittersweetly reminding him of the dream he never thought would come true.

It hurts when he thinks about her, the sweet smile her lips are always pulled into, the way she looks at him like his past was erased from history. Bucky doesn’t deserve her kindness and he certainly doesn’t deserve her in his life. He wants to rebuild those walls, force himself to shut down, to turn off the part of himself that is desperate to proclaim his feelings.

Y/N’s everything and Bucky is nothing. He’s poison, he taints her every time they’re together but she still comes back. He wished she wouldn’t. He’s too weak to stop, begging in his heart that when he texts her she'll deny him but she never does. Like the center of the universe Bucky pulls her into his orbit and there’s no escaping. Not that she wants to, Y/N’s addicted as much as he is, even if it hurts her so much to be a secret, to be everything except loved.

Darkness falls. Bucky texts her and as usual she comes over. Y/N was used to it, she expected it. She seldom took clients out at night anymore because she knows Bucky will be contacting her soon. It’s a terrible habit, putting a man before her livelihood. She’s not proud, but she thinks this time things with Bucky will be different. She convinced herself of the lie over and over again. He’ll see something new, he’ll seal the deal and make her his. No longer will she cry into her pillow, shedding tears over the fantasy life she hopes to lead. One last time, she said for the thousandth time.

Sunlight pours into his apartment drenching the room in a sunset glow. It matches the amber liquid he swirls in his glass again as he thinks about Y/N and the way she left. Bucky was forever grateful for the Tower’s limited supply of Asgardian mead. He had taken a flask with him, a moving day gift to himself. A drop was enough to take the edge off but with the way he’s been feeling the flask is nearly empty.

Y/N had a date. Bucky wondered if she was getting ready right now. Was she looking forward to it? Getting all pretty to meet whoever the fuck asked her out. Is he taking her to the places Bucky would have taken her if he wasn’t a coward? He hopes she has a bad time.

The thought makes him drink again and Bucky knows he’s acting shitty. He can’t help it though. Will her date kiss those sweet lips of hers? Would she invite him in? Can he make her scream the way Bucky can? Will he learn all the spots that make her weak?

Bucky can’t think about that.

He volunteered for a mission, contacting Fury directly so he didn’t have to face anyone at the Tower. They’d know something was up if he went there and the last thing he needs anyone prodding him for information, especially when he’s on edge. Of all people Fury respects privacy so Bucky sobered up, packed his things and left his sanctuary. He doesn’t contact Y/N.

“Are you ready for the best pizza you’ve ever had in your life?” Steve asked, his blue eyes sparkling with joy as Y/N folds the slice and brings it to her mouth. He wasn’t lying. Y/N’s never tasted a more perfect combination of cheese, sauce and dough.

“Steve! This is incredible!” Y/N boasted, her taste buds celebrating the explosion of flavor in her mouth.

Steve’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. When he first came out of the ice, after the dust of the Chitauri invasion had settled, Steve sought comfort in simpler memories of the past. To his surprise this pizzeria was still around and owned by the same family he once knew.

“Sometimes I didn’t have enough money to eat so Giuseppe would let me earn it, cleaning tables, sweeping the floor. I almost passed out in the summer of ‘33 right over there.” Steve pointed to the booths that lined the walls as he awkwardly recalled having an asthma attack in the middle of a brutal heatwave.

It was hard to imagine Steve as anything but the person he was in front of her today. Tall and muscular, chiseled out of marble and sent straight down from Mount Olympus. Steve Rogers was practically a god but he certainly didn’t act like he knew that. Y/N could see a flash of the small and timid person he once was, in the stillness of quiet moments when Steve doesn’t think she’s looking. In those moments Steve forgets he’s “Captain America” a beloved hero by all. Instead he’s just Steve, not so small anymore but still awkward and unsure of himself, especially around Y/N.

When they were finished Steve said goodbye to the owner John, Giuseppe's grandson who grew up on stories passed down of Captain America working in his Nonno’s pizzeria. Y/N smiled softly at Steve as he was practically tackled by John’s young sons. He grinned back at her apologetically but she didn’t mind, holding back laughter as the boys asked where his shield was.

An alert from her phone drags her away from the peace she thought she might have with Steve, and frantically Y/N digs in her bag. What if it’s Bucky? He might need her. The phone feels like a heavy brick until she’s able to see the screen and the message not from Bucky.

Y/N doesn’t know why she expected it to be him. He doesn’t need her, just like she doesn’t need him. The message was a client confirming their appointment for the next day and she thinks back on how she and Steve began talking.

He contacted her a few weeks prior and Y/N was stricken with fear. Does he know? She thought she was Bucky’s secret so she panicked a bit when he called. Her worries disappeared when Steve told her he was interested in an apartment.

“I haven't lived on my own in a while and Bucky seems to be enjoying his.” Yeah, more than you know.

Y/N took Steve out to see a few listings, quickly learning the differences between him and Bucky. Both were pretty reserved although Steve was more inclined to interact with those around him. From little kids to giggling teenagers and their ogling parents, Steve greeted each one, happily posing for pictures and autographs.

Bucky was never recognized, or at least no one had gone up to him when they were together. A hood was pulled over the cap that shadowed his face, his metal hand was always hidden in the pocket of his jacket or hoodie. He walked with purpose letting her lead the way to their next destination.

The truth was there have been times when his enhanced hearing picked up on someone calling his name but Bucky didn’t turn around. He assumed they were calling him to scream at him about the past. It’s happened before, when someone caught him off guard as they shouted, “You killed my Grandpa!” Maybe he did. He’s killed a lot of people, he can’t remember them all.

His past is a red streaked blur, the carnage of his actions hidden behind the thinly veiled mask of death. Grandfathers and grandmothers, men and women alike, and children too he painfully recalled. There was no discrimination with Hydra and like a dog Bucky dutifully followed orders leaving destruction in his wake, ripping lives to shred like they were nothing more than chew toys.

Steve ultimately decided against an apartment, nothing was catching his eye. Well, that’s not entirely true. He had fallen for Y/N; the way her whole body lights up when she smiles, shining like sunlight on the water, her voice was an angel’s song and her laughter was surely the cure to all illnesses.

They had kept in touch since he stopped his search through friendly texts, nothing too serious. Steve didn’t want to overstep any boundaries but he still wanted to get to know her. She always felt guilty texting him back, especially when she was at Bucky’s. Steve was practically his brother but it shouldn’t matter. Y/N wasn’t anything more than Bucky’s clandestine lover. If he wasn’t going to step up and ask her out then why should she say no to someone who would?

“Sorry about that,” Steve said, breaking her from her thoughts.

Y/N relaxed her shoulders, releasing the tension she didn’t realize she was holding. “That’s alright,” she said with a smile.

Hand in hand they traveled back to her apartment and things felt right. When they reached the front of her door Steve gently cupped her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her goodnight.

Steve’s kiss was completely different from Bucky’s. It was soft and slow, his mouth slightly parted but he kept his tongue where he felt it should stay for a first date. He made sure she was safely in her apartment before leaving, unable to see the way Y/N leaned her head back against the door, wiping the tears she didn’t know had formed.

The next day Steve called her just to hear her voice. He missed her, she could tell, though she kept it to herself; and she missed Bucky, something she also kept to herself.

Time moves like molasses when Bucky is not part of Y/N’s world. It had been a week since they last saw each other with no communication since. It was weird not to have contact with each other. They texted nearly every day since Bucky moved in and she saw him almost as often. The silence was disappointing but this is what Y/N told herself she wanted.

Steve had taken her on a perfect date, in public! She was on the arm of someone that cared about her, no longer a secret, and that’s all she wanted. She told herself that if Bucky didn’t need her then she didn’t need him.

It was a nice idea while it lasted.

Y/N’s phone buzzed and her heart skipped a few beats when she saw it was a text from Bucky asking her to come over. Like a moth to the flame she’s already running; detached from any consequences because nothing else mattered anyway, not when Bucky Barnes is the center of her universe.

PART 3

A/N: Thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated :)

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leaving the guardians - chapter two : b.b

i’m actually pleasantly surprised by the amount of love for this little idea and thank you for the support 

one / part two /  three / four / five / six / seven / eight

“I can’t believe you’ve roped us into this.” Peter sighs as he glances across the table to me. Instead of giving him a quick comment I remain quiet, waiting for the core team to enter the room.

“So these people, they special at all?” Gamora asks as Fury stands before us as we sit around a large table with one handcuffed to a chair leg for our own safety.

Little do they know how easy it is to get out of any kind of handcuff with a bit of practice and having Peter Quill as your brother.

“They’re an elite team of Earth’s most powerful people.” Fury states and Gamora rolls her eyes to me and I try to suppress my smile. “You might wanna straighten up a bit.” He retorts and Gamora shuffles in her seat, her frown remaining adamant.

Before we know it several figures walk through the door. I recognise Steve, Tony and blue eyes trailing behind the rest, his metal arm glimmering beneath the yellow lights. “Sup?” Drax calls out, lifting his free arm up with a smile on his face. 

All of them merely look around to one another whilst I hold back my laugh. “Yeah, Drax I don’t think they’re as friendly as you’re anticipating.” I speak up and Drax sighs, lowering his arm back to his lap. 

Tony steps forward, standing beside Fury as he lowers his sunglasses. “All we want to do is find out more about you guys.” Raising his arms in defence Peter scoffs loudly and Tony raises an eyebrow to him. “Something funny to you Star Boy?”

“It’s Star Lord, actually.” Peter retorts and a loud gruff sounds from amongst the heroes. 

“Lord of Stars? Hardly.” A few heads turn as a large man stands amongst everyone with long blond hair. “A Lord of a patch of grass more likely.” 

“Okay before things get nasty,” I call out, leaning back in the chair as I ignore the dull ache spreading around my wrist. “what if I just tell you guys what’s what?” Looking around Peter shakes his head disapprovingly whilst Rocket hides his head in his paws, well, hands. 

“Nope.” Peter interjects. “Not happening, Y/n.” 

“Oh come on Peter, why not?” I question and he sighs heavily before meeting my gaze. 

“Because you’ll say somethin’ stupid. Tell them something they shouldn’t know about just yet or about the stones.” He mutters the last part, but he was loud enough for even blue eyes to hear in the far corner. 

Twitching I turn away, focusing back on Tony. “If you help my friends fix their ship I’ll stay put, tell you everything you want to know. Deal?” 

Fury, Tony and Steve turn around, heading out of the room, leaving a few of the Avengers to stand watching us as we all avoid one another's glances. “What’s with the rabbit?” The blond haired man speaks up and Rocket groans under his breath. 

“What’s with the hair goldilocks?” Rocket quickly retorts and the man laughs wholeheartedly before nudging blue eyes rather forcefully. 

“I like this one.” 

A short silent follows before Gamora speaks up. “So, you all have names?” The figures before us start to separate and stand in a line as if they were in a lineup, something I know all too well.

The woman with the dark auburn hair clears her throat. “I’m Natasha.” 

Beside her she glances up, smiling to the man beside her who introduces himself as Clint. Following down there is Sam, Rhodey, Thor and lastly blue eyes. 

He struggles to meet anyone's gaze, especially mine as his eyes focus on my hand, the red mark spreading around my wrist. His lips part and he lifts his head back up, his dark brown hair falling back, revealing those bright eyes. “I’m Bucky.” He mutters and Gamora laughs to herself.

“And here I thought you two had strange names.” She kicks Peter and smiles over at me. 

“Well,” Natasha steps forward. “you’re obviously Y/n, that much we know.” I give her a little salute and her frown refuses to budge as she turns her attention around the table. “Rabbit, Drax, Gamora, tree and Star Boy?” 

“Star Lord.” Peter sighs before glancing at all of us, evidently unimpressed. “Why’s that so hard to grasp?” 

“And I have a name.” Rocket shuffles in his seat, standing taller. “I’m Rocket, and that’s Groot.” 

“I am Groot.” Groot mutters and Rocket chuckles to himself.

“That’s hardly polite, but I agree.” He comments and I smile before hearing the door open and the three men re-enter. 

Closing the door behind them Fury pulls out a chair, sitting down as the Avengers follow suit and take a seat around all of us. Bucky moves and sit down beside me, a small smile meeting mine before he averts his attention back to Fury. 

“We’ll take you up on your offer, Y/n.” Fury states and I smile, but he lifts his hand up. “But you’ll need to be monitored at all times.” 

I let out a small laugh. “Is that supposed to be some kind of punishment? What do you think these guys do? Let me wander off?” I scoff and Peter exhales loudly. 

“It’s not a punishment, it’s a security measure. You may have come here with no intention of causing harm, but we don’t know who might be following you.” Lifting my head up I meet Gamora’s gaze, her eyes screaming for me to keep my mouth shut. “We’ll have an Avenger with you at all times, anyone like to volunteer.” 

Looking around I watch as they all exchange glances, and then I watch as his metal arm slowly rises. “I’ll do it.” He speaks softly and Steve smiles over to Bucky. “I mean if you don’t mind the company, doll?” His eyes turn to me and the little hint of an accent makes my heart flutter. 

“Can’t say I do.” I respond, smiling to Bucky before averting my attention back to Fury. 

“That’s settled then. We’ll escort your friends back to their rooms,” Gamora opens her mouth, but Fury lifts his hand up silencing her before she can comment. “actual rooms this time.” He turns to see her closing her mouth. “And will help you fix your ship whilst Y/n talks with us in private.” 

“Sounds fair to me.” I speak up and lift my arms to cross them, but feel the tug instead. “Since we’ve come to a conclusion, can we be released from these handcuffs now? You’re giving me traumatic flashbacks.” 

Tony rolls his eyes before motioning to Rhodey who walks over, unlocking the handcuffs and I grasp my wrist, trying to hide the redness from Bucky's gaze. 

Standing up we all began to depart from the room, I was lead in a different direction from everyone else and could hear Peter yelling. “Hey, sis!” He repeated once again and I turned around, seeing his face soften. “Make us proud.” He smiles and I feel an arm lightly ghosting my back, guiding me away from those I had grown up knowing, the only people I can call family. 

*

After hours of sitting and talking, hoping to explain how things worked for us I felt drained. It seemed no matter how much I told them, tried to explain in simple terms nothing quite stuck. I had drawings, sketches and torn up pieces of paper around the room as I groaned loudly. “Why is it so hard to understand? You’re a team of superheroes!” I state as I motion to Steve, Tony and Bucky behind Fury. 

“True, but we aren’t friends with a talking racoon and tree, Y/n.” Bucky interjects and I raise an eyebrow to him and cross my arms. 

“They have names, you know.” I retort and Bucky sighs before rising to his feet. “Don’t act like you don’t know ‘em twinkle eyes.” 

Bucky opens his mouth, but no words follow causing Steve to suppress his chuckle that tries to sound. “Anything else you can tell us?” Tony asks, crossing his arms as his eyes zone in on mine. 

All I can hear in the back of my head is Peter, his voice telling me not to say anything. But then again, Peter isn’t here and these guys might like a heads up. “Well, there’s something coming,” I sigh loudly as I compose myself to tell them what I know should remain a secret. “we’re unsure what it is, but we were chasing a ship before we crashed. Whoever, or whatever they are, it’s powerful.” I explain and watch as their gazes flicker from one another, but they keep their expressions vacant. 

“Okay,” Steve is the first to speak up as everyone looks to him. “what can we do to help?” 

I let out a huff before sitting back down. “If you really want to help,” I meet everyone’s eyes, the drive, the passion and determination. “you can help me and my family leave Earth and deal with these things.” 

A groan comes from Bucky as he shakes his head. “Why’d I have a feeling you’d say that, doll?” 

Lifting my legs up I cross them over on the table, leaning back in the chair. “I don’t know what to tell you guys, thems the truth as dear ol’ Dad would tell me.” I roll my eyes at the faint memories of him, knowing he’s not much to miss. 

After a prolonged silence Tony pushes himself away from the desk, rising to his feet. “We’re not going to get any more from her today, might as well leave her be.” He walks out of the room, not even glancing my way before he disappears out of sight. 

“This isn’t over, Y/n.” Steve states before meeting Bucky’s eyes and he nods in response. 

“Come on, doll.” Bucky motions for me to follow him and I rise to my feet, quick to be by his side as we leave the room and wander down endless corridors. 

As we walk neither of us speaks up, Bucky merely keeps his eyes dead ahead, his arms tight to his sides whilst I look around anywhere I can. “How did you end up here then?” I finally break the painful silence and watch as Bucky’s shoulders fall, tension loosening. 

“Me and Steve were best friends as kids,” He mutters. “and some bad stuff happened, I wasn’t a good person and Steve helped me out of it.” 

“Bad stuff happened? What’d you do, rob a bank?” I laugh but his eyes shoot over to me and I stare back. “What? Is that supposed to intimidate me?” 

He rolls his eyes. “You’re not afraid of me?” 

I focus on him as we walk now, observing how he’s clenching his jaw too tight. “Why would I be?” My voice is soft, hoping to ease him out of whatever bubble he’s trapped in. 

“I’ve killed people.” His words cut the air as if I were to run away, back down or hide from him. 

Yet I shrug my shoulders. “Who hasn’t?” I retort and he scoffs lightly.

“But these people didn’t deserve it, they didn’t deserve to die.” Now his voice is getting louder, more powerful as his fists contract. 

“I blew up an entire planet.” I close my eyes, allowing the truth to hover around us. As I open my eyes his hand is resting on my forearm, the two of us stood still in this corridor, no one else to hear the facts I’m not proud of. “They didn’t deserve it, not all of them.” 

“Did you mean it?” His question is cold as I lift my head up, my eyes meeting his as I remain perfectly still, perplexed by his question. 

Never has anyone asked that usually I’m asked why. 

Why did I do it? Why I didn’t try to save the innocents? Why didn’t I try to stop it all from happening?

Slowly, I force myself to nod. “Yes.” I state bluntly, the single word hanging heavy around me. “Sometimes, I wish it hadn’t happened. But I knew if it didn’t, none of us would’ve survived.” As I blink I can see it all now, I can hear their cries for help as Peter is dragging my body back onto the ship. How in my delirious daze I watched the planet disintegrated into nothing, but their screams and cries never left me. 

Tearing my eyes from his I begin to walk. Despite having no sense of direction I walk straight ahead, hoping the sound of my feet against the cool marble will ease their pain that lies behind my eyes. “But you’re not like them,” Bucky speaks up as I hear him lightly jog until he’s by my side once again. “you’re more human.” 

A scoff escapes my lips as I lift my hand up, brushing through my hair. “Maybe it’s because I am human?” I sarcastically comment, hiding the pain that lingers just under the surface, but I can tell he feels it, he’s not ready to move on from this just yet. 

“No, I mean, yes,” He sighs loudly, his shoulders rising as he tenses. “you’re the first person I’ve met who isn’t scared of me.” 

I raise an eyebrow to him as he nods. “Well, as cute as I find your metal arm Bucky, I’m not afraid.” Nudging his flesh arm lightly I watch as a smile plays on his lips. “And whatever anyone else thinks is irrelevant. It’s the opinions of those who care about you the most that matter.” I tell him as I smile to myself, picturing my Aunt telling me just days before I was taken. 

“Are they your family?” Bucky asks and I nod. “Interesting family.” He mutters and I laugh quietly.

“You could say that again,” I mutter to myself. “but after everything, they’ve been there for me. Even if I didn’t want to be at first.” 

“Trust me,” Bucky scoffs. “I know the feeling.” 

Slowly Bucky stops in front of a large white door with a silver frame. He places his hand on the door and it opens before us. “This me?” I question and he nods softly. “Now what?” 

Bucky leans against the door frame as I walk into the most normal looking apartment I’ve seen in years. An actual sink, a sofa that isn’t made out of old wires and a floor that doesn’t hum from an engine. 

As I lift my head I watch his smile grow. “I guess you can relax until Tony calls for you, FRIDAY will notify you.” I nod, barely able to focus as I close my eyes and sit down on the ground, smiling at the quiet, something I haven’t had in a lifetime. “I’ll leave you to it, doll.” 

“Wait,” Standing up I watch as he turns back to face me. “would you mind keeping me company? I’m not good on my own it,” I sigh quietly. “brings back certain memories I’d rather not resurface.” 

“Course,” He walks in, closing the door behind him. “anything for you, Y/n.”

taglist (thank you for the endless support)

 @iheartsebastianstan @vgirl10123 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @hour-to-hourglass

[the-canary]

Home.

Summary: Home isn’t a place, but rather the people that have your heart. (Implied!Reader/Steve Rogers; Avengers!Friendship).  

Prompt: ‘Hygge’ – the cozy feeling you get when you’re enjoying good things in life with friends.

A/N: This is for @bucky-at-bedtime‘s writing challenge. this isn’t the best, but i thought it was cute and worked with the prompt. i’m sorry i couldn’t add some characters, but i’m still not very used to writing them, but i hope you enjoy it. 

Masterlist

Feedback is always welcomed.

It’s a little strange when Director Hill gives you the directive -- you will be joining the Avengers on a temporary basis. You blink in confusion, but nod as a strange feeling of pride and anticipation bubbles in your chest at the announcement.

“May I ask why though,” you ask softly but with all the confidence in the world that you could muster around someone like Director Hill.

“Captain Rogers and Ms. Romanoff are looking for someone with your talents,” Maria smiles.

She tells you to get ready to head to the Avengers Towers. As you leave the office and head back to your apartment, the anxiety starts to settle in -- what are the world’s mightiest heroes going to think of you?

 It’s the first week in and you still aren’t used to it -- living in a well stocked and airconditioned room compared to the little apartment with a broken heater back in Queens. Yes, S.H.I.E.L.D paid well, but not enough to get you something good in New York City. You’re adjusting well enough, but it still feels strange not to have to extra blankets with you and you slowly develop a pattern of getting up, doing some training in the gym on your floor before heading to get breakfast.  

It’s when you are heading down that you finally notice somebody coming back from their own run. You freeze for a moment, still unsure of yourself, as you do your best to give him a polite smile and nod.

“Good morning, Captain Rogers,” you states with a bit of a squeak, as he stops in the middle of the lobby.

“Where are you heading to?” Steve asks, not in that Captain American voice that you that heard in the few missions you had been in, but with general curiosity. You rub the back of your neck, like a kid caught sneaking out in the middle of the night rather than just leaving to get breakfast at 6am.

“Gonna see if I can find some breakfast,” you shrug while putting your hands in your hoodie pockets, “Though I still don’t know the area too well.”

“I know a place with some great coffee,” he starts off as your eyes lighten up at the mention, “Mean set of pancakes too.”

“That actually sounds really good,” you admit, feeling hungrier than before as the blond tells you to wait there, so he can change and he’ll show you the way.

Thus, you created a small routine of going to get breakfast with Captain Rogers, or Steve as he pushed you to calling him after the first couple of mornings together.

 Natasha.

You don’t go on missions often as most of the other Avengers unless the information calls for it. Your powers aren’t so much for fighting, as there are for scanning and collecting data, which is why you are paired up with the Black Widow for most of those first missions you are needed for.

It’s quite most of the time between the two of you as she controls the plane or car into  whatever Eastern Europe country you are going through for in order to collect more details on HYDRA . She’s naturally observing you, as you look at all the terrain around you, silent because your own powers take speech away from you. Your eyes flash and glow before you let out a cough.

“You okay?” is all she ever asks you, as you nod.

“HYDRA agents, 5 kilometers away,” you states before rubbing your sore throat,”Two squads of 4 with weapons.”

“You confident about that thing,” Natasha states as she picks up the speed of the vehicle just a bit, gripping the wheel a bit harder than before. You feel a rush of dread and confidence bloom in your chest all at once, as you nod.

“I will be, if you promise more of those Russian Tea cookies,” you laugh, trying to make the best out of the situation as the car starts to skee into dry ice and you grab on just a bit tighter to the side door. You prepare yourself with a deep breathe.  

“I promise you all the tea cookies in the world if we get out of this,” Nat says with a grin, as you blink once then twice before everything goes black.

You end up coming back with all the information that you needed and then some, along with a now defunct HYDRA base, and after your morning run the next day -- you are happy to see the largest box of those powdered tea cookies that you have ever seen placed in the kitchen countertop with your name on it.

It makes you think that you finding you own niche within the Avengers now.

 “Is she doing all right?”

“Yes, just like when you asked last time.”

“It’s just with her being new and all. I’m--”

“I know, know.”

 Tony & Bruce.

You wonder how the two scientists notice that your eyes have a sensitivity to light. You try not to wear sunglasses at all and contacts only sometimes, you don’t want to seem a liability to the group. It was a thing that ran back into your S.H.I.E.L.D training days and both men seemed to understand that, but there were also things that weren’t still understood about your powers and after talking to them for awhile, they finally got you to sit down in one of their labs to get your eyes scanned.

--Only for the scanner to break when your powers activated.

“Shit,” you yelp as the machine combusts and falls to the ground below. Bruce just shakes his head as Tony lets out a laugh, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bruce gives you a reassuring smile.

“We’ve seen worse happen in this lab,” Tony adds in, as he flicks some screens away and over to the doctor, “But, does that happen often?”

“Me losing control or setting others machinery on fire?” you question apprehensively because the answer was yes -- you couldn’t really scan machinery before it exploded. Sometimes, machinery being activated near you automatically triggered your powers, though you had trained over the years to have better control over it.

“Both, knowing both is good,” Tony laughs, as you catch his reference before explaining what you know about your powers during your time in S.H.I.E.L.D, your discomfort dissolving in between as they decide to use the old way of checking out eyes and do different tests to see how far you can scan and detect things, as well as through what materials and methods.

It’s a tiring experience, but it is much better one that any S.H.I.E.L.D test you had done before.

 “ Those glasses you made seem to be working perfectly for her.”

“Of course they would, ye of little faith. Though it makes me wonder.”

“What exactly are you ‘wondering’ about, Tony?”

“Just how much attention are you putting in our newest recruit.”

 Wanda & Vision.

Wanda is the on the closest to your age and while you are both apprehensive about your powers -- the two of you just bloom around each other. She understood, more than you could ever know, what it was like to have powers that you couldn’t control all the time and in-between trainings you talked about your hobbies, likes, and little things you missed from back home. Sometimes, you even got to taste some of her cooking, though you learned that Vision didn’t quite understand the quantity of salt in a recipe before it was beyond human consumption.  

Then, they ask you to teach them a new recipe and you freeze for a second, trying to figure out what would be the best food to show them from your childhood — what happy memories and feelings would you allow yourself to unravel from things you didn’t really remember anymore.

It never really daunted on you that you weren’t even trying hide your past, if they didn’t already know, and surely Director Hill would frown at how bad of a S.H.I.E.L.D agent you were being.

“So, what do you think?” you ask leaning on the kitchen counter top, a large pot next to you as Wanda digs in, “My nana used to make this for special occasions all the time, though I don’t think I can ever make it as good as hers.”

“This is delicious,” Wanda states with a soft smile, as Vision keeps looking at the colorful garnishes that decorate the top of the dish.

She keeps eating, as she proceeds to ask more about your family recipes and you tell her everything you that can remember -- an easygoing smile and a completely open book, for the first time in a long time.

 “This is delicious. Who made it?”

“You already ate three bowls! Oh, she made it, an old family recipe.”

“It’s good, really good.”

‘They always said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.”

 Sam (and Bucky).

“Wait! He dived out of the Triskelion without a parachute?”

You don’t know how you ended up here, but on the way to the recreation room --you were planning on catching up on a new series-- you had meet up with Sam and the mysterious Bucky Barnes. The man was visiting from Wakanda in order to do some testing with the researchers part of R&D for Stark Industries. While, you talked and connected well with Sam, you weren’t sure how you were going to get along with Steve’s best friend -- you didn’t want to make a bad first impression.

Though, you didn’t really have anything to worry about, as you ended up having lunch with the two men while trading stories of a certain super soldier and his crazy antics. Things calmed down for a moment, as both of them looked at you and went in for the kill.

“So, what do you think of old Stevie?” Bucky can’t help but ask, bright eyes and large smile as you pause for a moment. Sam shakes his head.

“Steve is a good man, I am grateful to have him as a friend,” you state with a soft smile and loving eyes, that has them speechless for a moment on how sweet you could be talking about the blonde, though Sam doubted you understood, but the potential was there.

“What other stories do you guys have?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard the best yet. We’ve got stories for days,” Bucky states before taking a bite of his lunch, as Sam moves to another story of when they were on a mission in Greece.

You let out a hearty laugh, as Sam and Bucky look at each other with knowing smile. A certain man watching from the doorway. Your eyes sparkle, as you look at them, though it’s due to the subject more than anything else. 

 "What have you and Sam been telling her?”

“Just some old stories about some crazy punk.”

“Seriously Buck.”

“What do you want me ‘ta do if a pretty dame keeps asking about you?”

 It’s a small party between all the Avengers as the year comes to an end and some of them leave to stay for their families and loved ones. A year ago you wouldn’t have expected to by in this type of position -- to be calling some of the Avengers your closest friends and while your tenure with them might be up soon, you knew the friendships would last beyond that. So, for now you were enjoying watching Sam and Bucky fighting over which were the best Christmas carols in front of the tree. Vision and Wanda were dressed in cute matching sweaters, as Bruce and Tony were caught in some discussion with Peter watching with wide eyes. Nat, Clint, and Rhodey were playing cards, while slowly devouring the gingerbread house amongst themselves.

It was a--

“A lovely sight, right?” the only person missing from the scene speaks, as Steve comes to your side. A mug of something warm in his hand.

“Yeah, it really is,” you agree as Steve hums in confirmation and for brief moment you wonder -- what Christmas was for the man in the 40’s? What they could have been if he had never been frozen all those decades ago?

You were thinking a lot of Steve Rogers recently, especially since talking to Sam and Bucky, even with him right in front of you.

“Are you going anywhere for the holidays?”

“Oh no,” you shake your head, blue eyes never leaving your face as you let out an awkward laugh,  “I have no real family to speak of. S.H.I.E.L.D is pretty much it for me, probably just stay in the Tower ‘til New Year’s.”

“So, if I wanted to finally give you that tour around New York?” Steve shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant, “What would you say?”

You blink for a moment, as he gives you a bright smile.

“I’d love to, Steve.”

Yes, there would always be danger and life-threatening situations as part of the Avengers, but for now you would enjoy the little blessings with the makeshift family you had been brought into — and the potential what-ifs of the future.

[tnystrk-exe]

Home

Tony Stark X Reader

Reckless and Impulsive

Baby Steps

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 End

Learning to Live

That first week had been hell to say the worst. You were a mess, it was difficult to concentrate at work. The choice had been to take break, your mindset was too bad to take care of your patients. Anytime the phone rang, there was the hope that you’d hear Tony’s voice mixed with the dread of Rhodey telling you he’d never come home. 

He’s coming home. He might not be home now. Later, who knows? He’s coming home one day soon. 

The stress of Tony missing and Ro constantly, tearfully asking for him were too much to handle. Ro wasn’t accustomed to not being able to talk or see Tony when she wanted. It had been his one of his biggest rules. Tony had never felt he was allowed to talk to Howard at anytime unless Howard directly acknowledged him. He didn’t want that with Ro. So anytime Ro said she wanted to speak to her father she did. Now she didn’t understand why whenever she asked you said ‘no’ or ‘he’s doing something, he can’t talk right now.’ She didn’t like these new changes. 

“Mommy, daddy no lo’ us,” she said, after you told her he couldn’t talk for seemingly the millionth time since he went missing. 

You rubbed your face in frustration, “Baby, your daddy loves you a lot. He just can’t talk for a while.”

She looked at you angrily, god that looked so much like Alex. “Yes, he can!” Ro yelled and thus began another tantrum. “I want my daddy! I want my daddy!”

Honestly, you didn’t blame her. You’d throw a tantrum too if you could. 

The days bled into a month and you tried to move life on as always. Business as usual. Though business was a hell of a lot harder without Tony at your side helping out. You repressed the pain and through yourself into your work. Maybe, if you helped enough people, whatever force there was would give you back your best friend. 

Rhodey was working as hard as he could to find Tony. It weighed on you, but it had to be worse for Rhodey. He was supposed to protect him. He’d been taking care of Tony since he was that young naive kid people thought they could take advantage of in parties at MIT. Resources to look for Tony were restricted. Everyone kept saying that Rhodey’s searches were a lost cause, but he’d gain enough respect for them to humor him. Hoping as the second month rolled past he’d give up. 

As if James Rhodes would ever give up on Tony Stark. 

Company wise, the man you had seen at the Stark’s funeral was doing press. He seemed to be taking over in Tony’s absence. Something about him seemed off, but you knew better than to judge by public appearances. Besides, if he was to take over when Tony wasn’t around, that meant Tony trusted him. 

Some morning news show was playing as background noise.

“So, Stane, it’s been close to three months. How is the company doing without Stark at the head?” the host asked.

“The company keeps going the way it always does,” he answered, “I only hope to run it the way Tony would want.”

“Long vacations, clubs, alcohol, and girls,” the host joked. 

Obadiah laughed, “Exactly.”

Was Tony really just a cheap joke to them when he’d been missing so long now? You turned off the TV. Tony Stark was more than people made him out to be and you didn’t need to hear what they thought. He was more than the party scene. He was loving, caring, hardworking, held his emotions to his chest, and used sunglasses as a way to hide himself. Someone that was a genius by every measure, striving to push the world into a better future. A man that would raise someone else’s child as his own, oddly enough something he had jokingly promised the day you met, and try with all his might to not repeat the sins of his father. But all they saw was the alcoholic partier. A flat 2D image. Maybe one day he’d get to prove them all wrong. 

The phone rang.

-

An explosion, that’s all it took to change it all. 

A second ago he was cracking cheap jokes and posing for a picture, the next there’s screaming, gunfire, and death. That soldier wasn’t much more than a kid... 

It takes a moment to recover from the shock and fear. His brain finally kicking into flight mode. They’re aiming at the Humvee, taking out all of the soldiers is their mission, he needs to get away from here. He runs out, there’s no where to go in the rainfall of bullets and explosives, but he manages to find a rock to take cover behind. 

Pulling out his phone, he frantically starts to shoot out a text. A whistle blows through the air and something crash lands not to far from where he is. He glances over to see death with his name on it. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

He doesn’t have time to get away. He didn’t design it to give anyone time to get away. The shock and adrenaline blocking the pain for now. Almost in disbelief he pulls open his button down, blood flowing from wounds where the shrapnel pierced through his vest. There’s not much time to think of anything else before he passes out. Briefly, Tony is conscious enough to know he’s being transported. He doesn’t have enough brain power to judge it as a good or bad thing, the pain being center focus. Tony loses consciousness again. 

Later a bag is pulled off of his head and he sluggishly put everything together. The bright lights, a camera, and a man talking as if making negotiations, all highlighted with him being tied up. Something at the back of his head bit at him, saying he should have spent his time with Ro instead of some reporter he couldn’t remember the name of. His chest was killing him. After the group makes whatever message they wanted to they drag him somewhere else, his consciousness coming in and out in waves. 

That’s when the nightmare really starts. Someone is digging into his chest, causing the worst pain he’s ever felt. He can’t hold in his screams. Cloth is shoved into his mouth and who knows how many people are holding him down when he attempts to thrash away. There’s not even the freedom of being unconscious until the torture is done. He didn’t even let go on his own, someone dragged him down with chloroform. 

He finally came around a final time. There was a man, Tony didn’t know if he was a friend or foe. When he tries to move, he’s stopped abruptly by something...connected to him? Following the chords frantically, he rips off his bandages. The flesh raw and haggard around a machine. Tony studies the thing in his chest. It weighs on him, each breath bringing a new bout of pain. It wasn’t any use being a baby about pain now, he had things to figure out. Not like anyone here would give him any pain medication anytime soon. He’d be lucky if it didn’t get infected somehow. 

The first thing that spills from his mouth is an accusatory, “What the hell did you do to me?”

Quickly connecting the dots that the man was also a prisoner. The man had taken some of The shrapnel out, the pieces still inside of his chest were working to kill him. All that was keeping him alive was a car battery and electromagnet. 

Tony took in his surroundings. Dimly lit, cold, with a dank smell topping everything off. A camera was in place, watching him and the man. Speaking of which this man must have been dying for company. He was rambling about having met himself before. 

“Don’t remember...” he answered gruffly, partially listening as his mind raced for some kind of solution. 

His roommate started recounting one of his drunken speeches. Something that happened more than not. But he was a functional alcoholic so what did it matter if he could still get the job done. He paid little mind to the conversation. Banging on the door caused the man to stand hurriedly commanding him to be quiet and mimic him. 

A group walks in, as dim as it was Tony could recognize his work anywhere. “Those are my guns. How did they get my guns?” The words leave his mouth, he doesn’t realize it but they do. 

His partner reprimands him, as one of their new guest starts talking. There’s not much for him to catch beside his own name. When signaled his roommate starts to translate.  

“He says, ‘Welcome Tony Stark, the most famous mass murderer in the history of America....he’s honored...he wants you to build a missile...the Jericho middle the one you demonstrated,” his roommate is handed a photo and he showed it to Tony, “This one.” 

In a span of less than two days he had been called a Merchant of Death and the most famous mass murderer. Something in him was changing, a day ago he probably would have agreed, topping it off with a lame joke. Now? Now he saw things first hand. People he wanted to fight against seemingly respected him. Looking at the man defiantly, Tony responded, “I refuse.” 

Their choice had been made. Torture into compliance. They ducked his head in the water for as long as they wanted, letting him back up for the smallest of gasp. He knew they wouldn’t kill him. They needed him to make the weapon. Once the group finally got tired, they put a sack over his head and walked him out of the cave. He was already counting his steps and committing the directions to memory. 

Blinded by the sun, his eyes finally came back to focus. All around his weapons were scattered and thrown about. His name glaring at him from all angles. Was he directly responsible? No. But he made this all, without him they’d have nothing. Without him those soldiers would be alive.  

He shook his captors hand, knowing well that making the Jericho would get him killed. That was okay, he could work on pretenses. They didn’t know what went into making the weapon. Just that alone would give him some leeway, but they’d catch on quickly. All he needed to do was be quicker.   

"I'm sure they're looking for you, Stark. But they'd never find you here in these mountains. Look, out there, what you saw? That is your legacy. Your weapons in the hands of those murderers! Is that how you want to go out? Is this the last act of defiance of the great Tony Stark? Or are you going to do something about it?” 

 "Why should I do anything? Either way, they're gonna kill you and me, and if not, then I'll likely be dead by the end of the week" 

"Well then, this will be a very important week for you, won't it?” 

It was the push he needed.  

First things first, to stop lugging around that car battery. The upgrade to an arc reactor would be the golden ticket. He did the calculations, already working on how to minimize the reactor to something functional that can work as fuel. Next would be a suit, something that he could use to clear the path. 

Tony worked by himself, much to his roommate’s annoyance. So, Tony had him scavenge for the palladium. After gathering the 1.6 grams, they melted it now and poured it into the mold Tony had constructed. Everything was hanging on this, it was a limited resource.  

“Careful. Careful, we only get one shot at this,” Tony warned.  

“Relax. I have steady hands. Why do you think you’re still alive?” 

Maybe knowing the name of his new lab partner would be good. “What do I call you?” 

“My name is Yinsen,” he answered.  

“Yinsen, nice to meet you.” 

Tony ignored the annoyed glance he was given. Sure they met before, but did it really count if he was drunk off his ass? Yinsen turned into his right hand, it would have been impossible to form some kind of bond. They were all the other had. 

Once the arc reactor was completed, he showed Yinsen the suit he had made a blueprint. Fifteen minutes, that’s all they got for fuel. At least he didn’t have to worry about the shrapnel in his chest being kept at bay with a dying battery.  

“Got a family?” Tony asked during a game of backgammon. 

“Yes and I will see them when I leave here,” Yinsen answered, always so sure, “And you Stark?”

Tony stayed quiet, trying to decide what would be the best answer. Honestly, he didn’t try to think of anything except the escape. If he did he got distracted, sad, something that couldn’t sidetrack him right now. There was also the fact that there could always be someone listening in. He couldn’t risk it. “...No.” 

“So you’re a man that has everything and nothing.” 

He’d tell Yinsen about his little girl when they were freed.  

The days bled and blended into one another. No clue how long he had been captive. Did he really want to know? Tony worked restlessly. He needed out. He needed to go home. All he wanted was to see his daughter and see that smile of hers that looked so much like yours. That’s why he worked tirelessly to build this suit. It was close to finished but not quite.  

His and Yinsen’s captors barged in. The leader saying whatever about Genghis Khan and soon it would be his turn to rule. How Stark weapons are the way to secure that in this land. Only, Stark wasn’t building his weapon, was he? Yinsen was pushed on to his knees, a burning piece of coal was being pushed closer and closer to his face, as he argued with the leader. Tony managed to get them to back off yelling that he needed him as an assistant. 

When they leave he starts to work harder. There’s no more time. Before he knew it Yinsen was helping it suit up, their homemade bomb ready to go off the second someone opens the door. The clock is ticking, everything needs to work. Nothing can go wrong or malfunction right now. As he’s readying up, Yinsen makes him recite the directions out of the cave. There are guards yelling at them from the door. Yinsen frantically moves faster. The bomb goes if and they both realize now whatever time they had is up.  

Tony talks him through on the computer. Then Yinsen goes to do the finishing touches of the suit. Tony tried to remain calm, noticing how panicked Yinsen had become.  

“Get to your cover. Make sure the check points are clear before you follow me out, okay?” Tony spoke, while Yinsen checked the progress bar.  

“We need more time,” Yensin realized, the bar creeping up too slowly, he turned to look at Tony, “Hey, I’m going to buy you some time.” 

“Stick to the plan! Stick to the plan!” Tony pleads as dread fills him, he’s restricted into the suit, he can’t do anything until the system is loaded. Gunshots filled the air, “Yinsen!” He glared at the laptop, willing for it to go faster. 

The power cut off as the suit, finished. Some of the men peered into the cave. Tony through himself into the mission. He needed to get out of here and find Yinsen. His anger boiled over with each and everyone of his captors he met. They kept him from his daughter, downed him, beat him, and made his life a living hell. Not to mention everything they had done to Yinsen. Now it was his turn to hurt them.  

He finally made it toward the front of the cave. “Yinsen!”  

“Watch out!” Yinsen responded in a weak voice.  

Tony narrowly missed a missile, shooting off one of his own quickly. 

“Stark..” 

Tony pushed off the package that had the man pinned down. Yinsen looked weak but they couldn’t stay here, “C’mon we gotta go. Move with me. Come on we have a plan, we’re gonna stick to it.” 

“This was always the plan, Stark,” he spoke slowly, breathless. 

“C’mon you’re gonna go see your family, get up,” he urged, hoping that the idea of seeing his family again would give Yinsen the spur of energy that he needed.

“My family is dead. I’m going to see them now, Stark. It’s okay...it’s oka...” he took a haggard breath, “I want this....I want this.” 

He didn’t know what to do, except accept Yensin’s choice. “Thank you for saving me.” 

“Dont waste it...Don’t waste your life,” he took one last labored breath before sagging into himself.  

Tony didn’t waste his time. He could mourn later. Right now he had to destroy all of his weapons and get as far as he could. Once he made his way out of the cave, he met hell fire of bullets. When they ran out it was his turn. Everyone in his way, everything with his name on it was destroyed in fire. Someone obviously hit something good, because his suit started malfunctioning. Taking the chance, he set fire to the rest of the weapons. With a click or a button, he went flying off. Something there caused a chain reaction of explosions, just barely missing him.  

Suddenly, hundreds of feet in the air, the boosters are spent. All that Tony can see is the ground coming at him quickly. There’s no way he could make it this far for this to be the end.  

The crash land caused the suit to dismantle and partially bury him in the sand.  

“Not bad...” he spoke, letting his head fall back.  

An explosion in the distance brought him out of his dazed state. There was no time for rest. He pulled himself out of the wreck and sand before picking a direction hoping it would bring something, anything good. 

It had been so long, Tony had managed a weak jog every so often. Each breath caused a surge of pain to his chest, his stomach was begging for anything, and his mouth felt drier than the desert around him. The thoughts keeping him going were his family, Yinsen, and every change he was going to make the second he could.  

His whole life he avoided responsibility. He made the toys and didn’t give a hell what anyone did with them the second they were out of his sight. Never had he meant for this to happen. All he had wanted was to help protect people on the front line. Now, he experienced, first hand, what he caused. He didn’t like it. There were big changes to make. 

The sound of black hawks pulled him out of his thoughts. 

“Hey!” He screamed, his voice rough and gritty. He fell to his knees, throwing up a peace sign.  

Rhodey ran over to him, “How was the funvee?”  Tony couldn’t help much more than a laugh.  

“Next time you ride with me, okay?” Rhodey pulled him into a hug.  

To hell with dad’s, ‘Stark men are made of iron.’ He leaned into Rhodey’s hug, feeling safer than he ever had in his life. Tony could finally think about home and know he’d get there.  

Hours later, Rhodey left Tony’s room for a second. Tony was sleeping he’d be okay for now. He pulled out his phone.  

He didn’t go through formalities. “YN, he’s coming home.”

-

Tony was safe. He was finally coming home. You could finally breathe. The stress had rolled off of you almost instantly the second Rhodey said it. He ended the call when he said some doctors wanted to do a check up on Tony. 

The following afternoon you were making a snack for Ro while she played with some of her toys in the kitchen. Since Tony’s kidnapping, Ro had grown more clingy. Not that she wasn’t a cuddly kid, but sometimes she’d cry as if you weren’t going to come back when you left her with a her babysitter. Leaving her on those days hurt. One day, you had caught her just staring at a picture of Tony, sadly holding the frame. The whole situation was really affecting her in a way you didn’t know understand. All you could do was go through some picture books with her and stay with her at all times unless it was strictly necessary for you to go.  

Some random news channel was playing as background noise. Ro didn’t know that Tony was going to come by later, a small surprise for her. Everything felt like it was back to normal. God, you were just happy Tony was safe. 

“I never got to say goodbye to dad. I never got to say goodbye to my father,” Tony’s voice came from the speakers.  

Ro looked at you, before running into the living room. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” She stopped close to the TV, watching closely.  

This was a well worked cycle. Surprisingly the news channels would recycle an old interview now and then for the Tony Stark is still missing filler. Ro would run over expecting her father only to be met by a couple of pixels. Which would be followed by a usual conversation. 

You walked over and picked her up, “Are you okay, sweetheart?” “Maybe we go there and see daddy?”  

“Maybe soon.” At least this time it was something you knew for certain and not something you said hopefully.  

“Okay,” she walked back to her toys, the bear she refused to let go of dragging on the floor beside her. 

Your heart clenched, but he’d be here for her soon enough. She wouldn’t be given anymore laters. Turning your attention back to the TV, more focused on his appearance rather than what he was saying. He looked as okay as you could expect from someone that had been captive for three months. You caught Tony saying something about shutting down the weapons manufacturing division and the outburst of the press. Stane was pushing him of the stage as Tony spoke his piece.  

That was a surprising choice, but who were you to question everything he had experienced and seen. Having Tony back was your primary concern. Going back to the kitchen, you finished chopping up Ro’s fruit.  

The two of you had a quiet day. She played on her set for a better part of it and asked you to read her a couple of books outside in the grass. Around sunset, you decided it would be good to get Ro bathed and settled down for the night.  

While you were in the bathroom with Ro, you heard the front door open and close. It had to be Tony, he was the only person that had a key to your home. Quickly, you rinsed her off and took her out of the bath. 

“Mommy, p’eas play more in the bath,” she pouted at you. 

You shook your head, “Sorry, Ro Bear, not today.” 

“Why?” She started to cry as you helped her into a Buzz Lightyear pajama set.  

“Hey, hey, c’mon we don’t need tears today. Tomorrow, I promise you can play as long as you want in the water. Deal?” 

She nodded wiping her face, her lip still trembling, “And maybe bubbles?” 

“The biggest bubbles.” 

“Deal.” 

“Where’s Tony Bear?” 

“‘Ony Bear is....’Ony Bear in.. I take you,” She grab your hand and led you over towards the living room. Ro stopped short in the hallway when she saw him. “Daddy? Daddy!” Letting go of your hand, she ran to Tony, who was crouched down ready to catch her. 

“I missed you, Rugrat,” he hugged her close, pressing a kiss to her head. Finally, he felt like he was home. 

“‘Issed you too. Lots a lot,” she pressed kisses to his cheek, “Stay with me forever, daddy. No more work ever ever.”

“Sweetheart, all I want is to stay with you forever,” He picked up Ro, not willing to let her go so soon. “Hey, you. What happened to ‘we don’t need tears today’? You’re getting soft on me,” Tony joked, walking over to pull you into a hug, “Ro, I think your mommy loves me.” 

“I love you mostest.” 

“Don’t insult me like that,” you joked pressing a kiss to his cheek, “You know I love you, Tones.” 

“I love the both of you,” he pulled away, from you, “Ro, I have this cup of ice cream with rainbow sprinkles. I don’t think I can eat it myself, help me out?” 

“Yes!”  

Tony walked over to the kitchen to grab the ice cream, Ro’s arms around his neck keeping him in a hug. You let the two of them have their time together, soon enough you’d get to talk to Tony.  “Know my abc’s now,” Ro said, opening her mouth for another spoonful. 

“No way. Do it for me.”

“A, b, c, d, m, n, o, w, now I know my abc’s,” she sang. 

“I like this remix. You really just took the meat of that song and threw out all of the annoying bits. What do you say your mommy and I teach you the old people version sometime?”  

“With ‘Ony Bear.”

“You got it.” 

The two of them had a conversation over ice cream. Happily ignoring everything in the world together. Ro stayed on Tony’s lap the entire time, neither one of them wanted to be apart from each other. It was cute, sad when you thought of why, but they needed to be close.  

“You know Ro, you and your mommy are two of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen,” he said, patting her back while she laid against him. 

She yawned resting her head against his shoulder, “Daddy’s pretty too. Mommy says so.” 

“Your mommy always thought I was pretty, but I think it’s time for you to get some sleep, Ro.” 

“Can I sleep with you daddy?” 

“Sure.” 

He stood and took her to your room. Ro was curled up against him as soon as he laid down beside her. Quietly he sang her, Here Comes the Sun, slowly lulling her to sleep. Tony laid there with her for a while, contemplating. A small part of him, thought he wouldn’t have made it back home. Now, he was going to throw that away and start a mission. He always promised Ro he’d be the best he could to even be worthy of being her father, maybe this was the way to go. 

He pressed a kiss to her head before he slid out from under Ro. As comfortable as he was he wanted to talk to you.  

“Hey,” Tony hugged you while you were washing the dishes. “Stroke my ego and tell me how much you missed me.” 

“You were gone?” You teased, feeling something hard wedged against his chest and your back. Grabbing a towel, you dried off your hands, “Lemme see that?” 

He nodded, your hands went from his chest to his tie. “The least you can do is buy me dinner,” he winked at you as you unbuttoned his shirt.  

“I’ll make you whatever dinner you want. Take that shirt off,” you spoke before you could think, seeing a light that was blocked out by thick fabric.  

“Any other time I’d jump if you’d say that, but I’m going to need a little help here.” He nodded to his arm in the sling.  

“Sorry, sorry.” You helped him out. “What is that?” 

“That is keeping me alive,” he sighed, “It’s keeping pieces of shrapnel from digging in deeper. What do you think?” 

“Honest?” 

“Completely.”

“Scientifically? This is so cool. Don’t you have a giant version of this running the company? How did you miniaturize it?” You paused, catching each and every scar and bruise that littered his body, “As a doctor, I think we need to get you running without a battery. When are you going to get it done?” 

“Not anytime soon,” he responded, “I have bigger things on my mind than me. There are things I need to do. Before I make any of my moves, I need to update my arc reactor. As nice as this hunk of scrap is, its running low. Besides new things are always more fun. Shiner.” 

“Are you okay?” You asked, grabbing his hand in yours.  

“When aren’t I okay?” 

“When you’re being tough,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “You don’t have to talk to me, but come on Tony...You were taken away for a long time, I can’t fathom what happened to you, and now you have a machine to keep you up and running. You also just shut down the main export of your company. That’s a lot.” 

“I...I- there was so much happening. Okay? The things I saw, I don’t want to be the cause of that anymore. My whole life I’ve been reaping the benefits of death and destruction.  That’s not a legacy I want. So, I’m going to do something about it. You’re going to have to trust me. Do you?” 

“Of course, I do. Still, you need to get this out.”

“Maybe, one day, probably not. I’m not getting your hopes up,” he shook his head, “You know as well as me that it’s high risk. I have a daughter and I came back with a mission. I won’t risk it.” 

You studied the small machine. “What’s this mission?” 

“I’ve got to make things right, YN. There are weapons of mine out there. I need to do whatever it takes.” 

You bit your lip. This was a new side of Tony. He was driven, yeah, but this was new. There was something different to his core. “Okay....okay. Whatever you need, Tony. I got your back.” 

“Thank you, YN.” 

“Daddy!” Ro ran in from the hallway, crying.  

Tony pulled on his shirt. “Hey, Rugrat, what’s wrong?” 

“Think daddy left again.” She cried into his shirt.  

“That won’t happen again, okay? Come on you two, we should get some sleep. YN, my sketchbook still in the drawer next to your bed?”

Everything Tag:@sophiatomlinson23 @cannonindeez @memyselfandmaddox

Marvel Tag: @asguardiansoftheavengers @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

Tony Stark Tag: @Mrunmayi @bit-bot0711

Strikes didn’t work.

[ginaonline]

Iron Man’s Girl.

~ 1980 words

Peter Parker x Y/N

Summary : You are Tony Stark’s daughter and trying to figure out why your best friend Peter is always running off to something. 

Warnings : a bit of angst, tiny bit of violence. 

A/N : OKAY so here’s the whole imagine, it’s kinda long but IT’S WORTH IT !! pls this took me so much time to write i hope you’ll like it ! Feel free to send a message or put in the ask box if you wanna request/ask anything 

It had been months, and you finally felt like you could tell him what you’ve been too hesitant to say. At first, you were afraid he would do like the others did. Start using you because of who your father was, taking advantage of your wealth, or just always talking and caring about HIM. The great and amazing Tony Stark. But you also did not want to put him at risk. You were already using a fake last name so that no villain could trace you back to Iron Man, and try to use you to get to the armored superhero, because obviously, you were his weak spot. It would be stupid to involve him in all this. 

But Peter Parker was different. He had been one of your best friends since the moment you showed up at Midtown School of Science last year. You were always hanging out with his friends, building huge lego figures with him and Ned or watching movies together, the inseparable trio. You also enjoyed reading with Michelle, and joking about how much of a nerd the boys were, even though you two were huge nerds too. 

Determined, you walk up to Peter who was taking stuff out of his locker, and when he looks at you, the confidence you were feeling fades away quickly and, trying your best to stand still, you hesitantly ask your best friend :

« Um, Parker, i was thinking maybe- maybe tonight we could... do our science project at my house for once ! My dad won’t be home too early so it’s- it’s cool.

- Oh I’d love to, Y/N, but i have um- the- you know- the Stark internship tonight and other stuff to do... maybe another time ! », he said, doing awkward hands gestures, not really looking at you in the eyes.

He smiled shyly, looking briefly at you before leaving you by his locker like you were lost.And there he was, going off again. It was the third time just this week. You felt like he was hiding something... it was weird. A Stark internship ? Dad had never told you about anything of the sort. « I’ll ask him», you thought to yourself, worried that something might be wrong with Peter.

« I’M HOME, TIME FOR DINER HONEYBUNCH !, you heard a familiar voice call from downstairs.

- Coming ! Just a second Dad ! ».

You quickly throw your copybook and pen to the side and run down the stairs.Diner was the only time of the day you really had time to see him so you enjoyed it to the fullest.The second he saw you, his face lit up with a bright smile and he hugged you.

« So how is everything going on today ? I had a blast at work haha ! See the pun ?

- Ugh embarrassing !, you jokingly said, rolling your eyes and chuckling before looking at him in the eyes and noticing a bruise., Hey, what’s that ?

- It’s nothing, just um, accident.

- You are the worst liar on the planet ! Okay here’s today’s deal, we eat and talk about my day or anything BUT your work, and you let me fix that for you afterwards. Deal ? ».

He nodded. You knew how he loved talking about how your day went, because, this way, he didn’t have to think about all the stuff that he has to deal with everyday. The diner was amazing. Great food as always. Despite a short moment where he answered the phone to Steve, you were happily talking and enjoying your time. Then, Tony told you to go sleep, hoping you had forgotten about his eye, trying to hide it with his classic tinted sunglasses.

« Uh-uh, I’m not going ! I need to take a look at that. And I’m sure you got something up your arm too, you’ve been struggling to take your fork properly during the whole dinner.

- You know, you would do an amazing work at the S.H.I.E.L.D, I mean i wouldn’t LET you, but you could.

- I know you would never allow--

- OUCH THAT WAS AWFUL !

- I just opened this band aid and didn’t even apply it on your skin Dad. Such a drama queen ! » You took care of him and went straight to bed. 

As you laid down you started thinking about Peter, and how he was distant, always running off somewhere, missing classes. What was happening ? You had to figure out. Suddenly, an idea jumped into your mind : « if he has a Stark internship, he must be at the Stark tower, i should start an internship too this way i can see my dad more, and also i can figure out why it’s taking this much time of Peter’s days ! Not in a creepy way of course I’m just worried ». He was the smartest guy you knew and still, due to his repeated absence he was failing spanish and chemistry... weird.

Your mind still roaming with thoughts, you slowly drifted off to sleep.

You woke up slowly and looked at the alarm clock : 7.30 am. You still had an hour before you had to take the bus to go to school. You smelled a fresh odor of pancakes and, after you got ready, you go downstairs to find your Dad, the almighty Tony Stark, wearing a flower patterned cooking apron. He was gladly making breakfast and had some flour on his beard. He looked up at you and his face lit up like it always does as he put a plate full of pancakes with strawberries on top for you to eat.It was absolutely delicious and you were happy that he was here in the morning to eat breakfast with you.

« By the way, dad, you know, i was wondering if i could get a Stark Internship too... i really wanna get to know that body of work and also I’ll get some experience, working for a huge company like yours. Annnnnd i get to spend more time with the best dad in the whole wide world !

- You already know my answer Y/N, and don’t try to ,flatter’ me to get through to me, he responded with a stern look.

- But pleaaaase ? I promise i won’t make any trouble ! And I’ll work hard i already know like half of the functioning of it ! You said yourself i would do a great job at the SHIELD, so why not Stark Industries ? », you pleaded and he gave up. He was smiling to himself, thinking « that kid’s definitely a Stark »

You just came out of school and ran as fast as you could to the street right next to the bus stop. There, you recognized a fancy car with a plate reading «ST4RK». No doubt, it’s the right one. You hop in and Happy drives you to the immense building of the Avengers Tower. «Wasn’t it supposed to be at Stark Ind. ? » you asked yourself. But if you’re here, there must be a reason.

You quickly run up the few stairs, looking up at the huge Avengers logo on the side.Once you enter and decline your identity they tell you to go to the 12th floor to see Mr. Stark.The minute you get out of the elevator you hear your dad’s voice echoing : «There are people who take care of that.

- But ... But »

Sounded like all the lectures you heard from your father all these years. Who was he talking to ?He comes to your sight holding a guy by the shoulder and it was ...

«Parker ??

- Y/N ! , he said your name and it resonated all around you. His big brown eyes were filled with surprise as he wasn’t expecting you to be here.

- Pumpkin, you know him ?, interrupted Tony, forcing you to look away from Peter in instance to look at your dad’s puzzled face.

- Yes. He goes to my school, dad., you said, rolling your eyes.

- D-Dad ?!, blurted out Peter, even more surprised than he was before, Okay i did NOT expect that. He added, trying his best to stay composed even though his suddenly high pitched voice gave it away.

- Well i was going to introduce you but seems like I’m of no use here. I have to go, but Peter, remember, there are people handling it. You don’t need to worry., he walked towards the elevator right behind you and said, enjoy your first day of work, Pumpkin », placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

Peter followed him with his eyes, then shook his head in disbelief. He couldn’t believe that you, his best friend for a year, had never told him that you were Tony Stark’s daughter.

« What the- ?

- I wanted to tell you today and many times before, but you decided you didn’t have time. And i don’t have time to talk right now either so get. to. work. », you said, as cold as ice, trying to stop yourself from explaining everything to him. 

He wasn’t paying attention to you for the past weeks, why would you justify yourself ? It was hard to do so, but you had to stay strong. «If he really cares about all this, he’ll come himself.» you thought, walking away from Peter towards the elevator.

You walked out of maths class, trying to avoid Peter, knowing he would wanna talk about yesterday. You were avoiding him because you were scared, even if you didn’t want to admit it. Was he going to try and just use you to get money, or get a better place at Stark Ind. ? No he would never... or would he ? You just didn’t know anything anymore because he hadn’t talked to you all day, mainly because you were doing everything to not come across him.The only person who already knew about your dad was Michelle, and, as usual, she didn’t really care about it, it didn’t change anything to your friendship.

But the thing with Peter is that he wasn’t just a friend to you. You liked him. And maybe that’s why you felt so hurt by the fact that he was being less and less close to you...

A voice calling your name stopped you in your fast pace. It was him. Without turning around, you went into the library and sat at a table, waiting for Michelle to arrive. Someone put their hands on the chair next to you and you looked up to meet those same familiar big brown eyes. You stared, trying to notice little details that would give you a hint on how you should behave, like Natasha had taught you. You could see that he was hurt, confused, and seemed to be trying to suppress something every time he looked at you. He really was hiding something. 

«Y/N..., he said softly, there’s a lot going on i feel like we need to talk about something...everything. 

- Not here, he understood what you meant, you finally were ready to have a conversation, when suddenly his watch bipped.

- I’m so sorry i have to go ! », he said before leaving in a hurry, again. 

That was it. That was the moment you just couldn’t take it anymore. Even an important conversation like this, wasn’t as important as whatever he was doing. Tears started coming up to your eyes and you texted Michelle telling her you went home, before leaving as fast as you could.

It was 6:30 pm and, at this time in December, it was already dark outside. You had spent some time in a coffee shop to refresh your mind, and now were on your way home. You tried calling Happy to pick you up but he wasn’t answering, probably busy with your father. There were no taxis and the bus was coming in 40 minutes, better walk. 

You were walking fast when suddenly you feel a hand grabbing strongly your bag and pulling you in a corner. You looked up and it was a man, you could smell a strong odor of alcohol from him. He tried to take your bag away from you but you were strong enough to keep it. He wept out a gun from his pocket and pointed it straight at your head :

« You wanna play huh ? We’re gonna play. 1... »

You could feel your heart beat faster, you thought about your dad, who will get worried as hell.

« 2... »

How will he feel when he wasn’t going to see you run down the stairs to jump in his arms ?

« 2 and a half... »

You closed your eyes in an instant and instead of sudden death, you felt lifted up in the air. You didn’t hear a gunshot. You opened your eyes to see someone in a red suit. Spiderman ! He put you down softly on the top of the building you were close to.

« Wait a second here, alright ? »

You nodded, still in shock, and watched him swing back down, kick the bad guy where it hurts and web him to the wall, with a little note for the police.You thought that he would leave but he came back to where he left you.

«You okay ? Are you hurt ?, he was... worried, Um.. i mean are you okay ma’am ?, he added, trying to sound more natural.

- Thanks to you, i am. I-I wouldn’t want to bother you but could you walk me home ? I’d feel safer this way., you said softly. 

- Of course, it’s not like you had a choice anyways ! I was going to do it whether you like it or not, he joked, his airy giggle making you smile.

- Thank you, Mr Spiderman.

- Oh, you can call me Spidey. »

And you started walking with him. You noticed his voice sounded young, no matter how hard he tried to mask it. You were so sure you heard it somewhere before, but you just couldn’t put a name or a face on it.

« So what were you doing all alone at this time of the day ? I mean not that I’m... you know if i may ask, he hesitated.

- Just trying to clear my head.

- Of who ?

- I never said that ! But yeah, just a friend of mine... well I’m not sure we’re even friends anymore., you said, sadly looking down at your shoes.

- Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s trying to make everything right with you but he’s having a hard time doing so. Nobody would ever wanna leave you, trust me.

- Um...thanks, Spidey, very nice of you. »

Even if it was the first time you ever met or talked to the guy, you felt like you always knew him. His words comforted you in some way. You arrived home and hugged him before you went it. It surprised him but he wrapped his arms around you in a warm embrace. He waited for you to go inside before flying away in the night.

« Hey it’s Peter. I’m not available so Um...maybe leave a message ! »

It had been the 12th missed call. He wasn’t at school all day and you just wanted to talk. Why wasn’t he picking up ? Was he okay ?You decided to go to his house to check if he wasn’t there or ask May on his whereabouts.You took the bus and ran to the door. May opened with a bright smile :

« It’s been days ! I was getting worried, you usually never leave our house.

- Um, May, is Peter here please ?, you asked, twisting your fingers, anxious.

- Yes darling, he is in his room, is everything okay ?

- Yes don’t worry thanks ! » you said, running up the stairs. You arrived in front of his bedroom door and knocked. You heard a shuffle noise as he said through the door : « Just a second ! Coming ! ».

The door swung open and his eyes widened when he noticed it was you, not his aunt, behind the door. He quickly grabbed his middletown sweater and put it on. But you had already seen the bruise on his right side.

« Peter, you let out a sigh as you came closer to him, only for him to take a step back, his eyes still wide staring at you. 

- Y/N what are you doing here, i thought...

- No, Parker, we’re not doing this again. What happened to you ?

- Nothing I just scratched myself..., he muttered under his breath. 

- You can’t lie to me, you know it ! Just tell me, for god’s sake, you snapped before getting closer to him and forcing him to look you in the eyes, talk to me please. 

-I...I wish I could tell you but i can’t. I really can’t, he answered, looking away from your pleading eyes.

- If you see me as a friend you shouldn’t act like that with me ! I’m just worried- 

- That’s the problem, we can’t be friends anymore. », he interrupted you, looking away, but his words were painful, he hurt you. For one split second you hoped he would say he wanted to be more than friends but no. He didn’t.

«I’m not taking this bullshit from you, I saw it. You’re bleeding, you’re not okay and you’re pushing me away. I’m not going until you look at me, in the eyes, and say that you don’t wanna have anything to do with me. Say it, Peter, you said, trying not to cry as you pointed at his chest.

- You need to leave, he managed to say, his brown eyes filling with tears before turning away.

- If i walk out that door, I’m never coming back. Ever. » 

He didn’t say anything. Nothing. You couldn’t believe it. You were done. A whole year gone to dust. Not a word. You were off to being strangers. Not a sound. Tears were streaming down your face as you said « Later, Parker » before closing the door behind you.

A month later

That episode with Peter marked you but you didn’t let it get to you. You hid your feelings as much as you could and enjoyed your time with Michelle more than ever. After all, she was your best friend. She understood, without even having to tell her, what happened between you and Peter. She was indeed very observant.

You also became an important part of the ‘Iron Man Team’, helping him as much as you could from the Stark Tower or the Avengers one. In a month, you managed to make yourself indispensable at work.

Your watch bipped. You open the door and sat behind the control panel as one screen allowed see like you were looking through the Iron Suit, another with a map helping you know where he was and directing him, and different others showing multiple cameras angles and a ton of other things.

He was on a mission with Spiderman. Your favorite superhero. Ever since he saved you, you didn’t meet him again but you sure did admire him.

Your dad and his protegee started fighting the bad guys when suddenly, the screen showing the spidersuit system goes black. The gun used by one of them disabled the suit system by creating a different force field and totally interfered with the connection.He could no longer shoot webs, the whole system was blocked.

« Y/N TAKE CHARGE OF THE COMS AND COMMUNICATE W HIM, HANDLE THE SUIT BY ACTIVATING EMERGENCY REMOTE ACCESS. WE DON’T HAVE ANY TIME, yelled Tony as he was blasting away the criminals.

- Okay, I’m on it. » You quickly press the red square that had appeared on the keyboard, type in the code and suddenly the screen works again : you were in control of the commands and the communication of the SpiderSuit 

« Ok, Spidey can you hear me ?, you calmly asked. 

- Yes very well Y/N... wait... Y/N ??!

- Peter ?!, you were shocked but there was no time for that, head to the left now, be careful there’s one of ‘em who is keeping the watch on the corner... »

Tony and Spiderman both arrived at the control room where you were waiting.Peter took of his mask and look at you with a small smile, apprehension in his eyes. He had no idea how you would react. You walked towards him and punch him lightly on the arm

« How dare you not tell me this ?, you asked with a serious tone.

- Look, I-I’m so so  sorry... 

- THIS IS AWESOME ! Parker, you are so cool, you said before hugging him for the first time in what seemed forever. 

- And you are even cooler Miss Stark, he replied, pulling away with a big cheeky smile. Hearing him call you by your real name made heat go up to your cheeks like never before. 

- Ugh, shut up », you said and stared for a second in his brown  eyes sparkling with relief. 

You could see his eyes flashing to your lips before you pulled him towards you and pressed your lips against his. He kissed you back and wrapped his arms around you before pulling away and smiling down at you.

« God make it stop, sighed Tony.

- Don’t try to act like a saint, Tony, let the kids be happy !, replied Steve who was sitting next to you before you stood up.

- Ugh, shut up.

- Are you gonna make out with me too ? I mean, like father like daughter am i right ? » 

You all laughed and it was all good for a moment. You were like one big happy family, a super family.

Tagged : @legendarydazekitten @hungoverhellhound

[mercedesbarnes]

The Five Things You Know, and the One You Don’t

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2567

A/N:  back for round twoooo…..I feel like we all need some Bucky fluff right now

“Dammit!”

You lost your second out of four lives in this Nerf war, thanks to someone—someone most likely named Steve.  He’s a sneaky one. It’s pouring outside and nobody was in the mood to do anything productive, naturally the first suggestion had been a Nerf war.

“Y/N, you will be avenged!”

Pietro vaults over the couch, very action movie-esque, which would have been impressive if he hadn’t been shot right after.

“Oh. Sorry, I’m out,” he sighs.  

“It’s okay, I appreciate the backup,” you say, sending your teammate a smile. By your count, it was only Bucky and you left on your team, versus Steve, Sam and Wanda on the other.  You weren’t sure how many lives each of them had, but you all promised to be honest.

“Y/N,” Bucky hisses. He waves his Nerf gun in a complicated circle.

“What?”

“Shh!”

If there was a way to see your face, it would read ‘???’.  A floorboard creaks behind you, and Bucky grabs your wrist and covers you until you’re safely behind the bar. A spark runs down your forearm but you attribute it to your socks shuffling on the carpet. 

He turns to you. “Didn’t I tell you the code?”

“No, it looked like random flailing—“ You raise your gun over the bar and shoot Wanda.  

She slouches. “How’d you know?”

You point behind Bucky. “The floating red stuff around the bullet about to hit him gave you away. How many more lives?”

“None.” She lowers her voice. “Sam’s got one more, but Steve’s got all four. Hurry, this game’s gone on long enough.”

Bucky mumbles ‘Steve’ under his breath and rises to go hunt for his best friend. It’s a good match, Bucky has all his lives too. Sam is yours. You tiptoe around the floor searching for any place that might house Sam.

“Oh, Bird Man,” you coo, knowing the nickname riles him up, “come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Just as you suspected: a poof from a gun misses your elbow. Bending down to pick up the foam bullet, you smile. Based on the trajectory, Sam was hiding behind the bookshelf.  Quietly, you sneak up on him and bombard him with foam before he can retaliate. Good ol’ physics, who knew it actually comes in handy?

You feel the spark again the next morning while getting your coffee, but this time you’re nowhere near a carpet.

“There’s my partner in crime!” Bucky announces when he sees you, “Have I told you about her?”

“Multiple times,” Sam says, clearly miffed, he’s swirling his tea bag more than usual.

“I’ll tell you again.  She kicked ass.”

“Is this coffee bitter, Sam?” You took a sip. “No. It must be you.”

Bucky throws an arm around your shoulders. His touch burns where your tank top can’t cover, and you have to concentrate on breathing properly. It’s like you had just come back from a run, your breath is completely knocked out of your lungs. Bucky’s holding onto you so his legs don’t give out from under him from the speechless look on Sam’s face; he’s laughing and declaring that you made his day.

First; he touches you and you light on fire. Your wrist blazes where his fingers meet your skin.  The burns don’t show, but it’s hard to breathe with ash in your lungs.  It’s so hard to breathe. You’re suffocating daily.

“What’s up with you?” Nat asks, “I was talking to you and you zoned out.”

“She’s drooling over Barnes,” Wanda replies, nudging you lightheartedly. You confessed to your crush on Bucky at the weekly girls lunch. Wanda wasn’t surprised.

“Yes, Bucky is over there, and yes, I happen to be staring in that direction, but I wouldn’t call it drooling.”

“You’re so smitten! Y/N, I can see it even without my powers.”

“He doesn’t know, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

Bucky’s on the patio, settling in a chair to play cards with Steve and Pietro.  You were staring at him, more specifically at his chest, since he had just emerged from the pool. Each droplet of water was having the time of its life trying to find its way through the maze of muscle definition, and you couldn’t tear your gaze away.  You’re starting to get hot and bothered imagining your fingers as the droplets.  

“Hey,” Nat murmurs.  

She jerks her chin at the guys. Bucky is waving at you to come over and greets you warmly when the three of you pull up seats at the table and Pietro deals you into a game of blackjack. You’re sitting two seats away from Bucky; here he’s barely a head tilt from being in your immediate vision, and you have a full view of the six—no, eight pack. Yikes.

You don’t want to get caught staring, but you can’t not stare.  Cruelly, the universe dips the sun lower in the sky, and its rays spill on Bucky like a goddamn spotlight.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you swear under your breath.

“Bad cards, Y/N?” Nat asks, and you jump on her excuse, nodding. You notice her subtly pointing down to her abdomen, then up at her face.  It’s a silent way of saying, ‘his eyes are up there.’

Bucky stretches to grab his towel, and you can feel yourself blushing when his muscles twist and contract. At the same time, Pietro makes a joke and Bucky’s smiling in that cute way where his nose scrunches. It’s too much too much–

You put on your sunglasses.

Second; it hurts to watch him. He shines. He’s brighter than the sun, he’s too beautiful for your eyes.  It’s hard to look at him.  It’s even harder to look away from him.  You’re going blind.

Two days later, you’re sitting on a bar stool tugging at the hem of your dress.  Nat swears it makes your legs look a mile long when you walk, but you’re tired of standing and are in dire need of a drink. Preferably something strong.  

“Tony, is your floor strong enough to handle this many people? I’m genuinely concerned,” you ask when Tony whizzes by, his arm around Happy Hogan, who is looking a little too happy.  You have to duck when he tries to hug you, claiming you’re too pretty to be sitting on the sidelines.

“Yeah, I designed it, it’ll even withstand Banner if someone pokes him. Stark guarantee.”

“Come dance with me!”

“I’m okay here, Hogan, but next party, alright?”

Tony chuckles and guides his tipsy friend over to a couch. Once he’s sure Hogan has a water bottle to sober up with, Tony hops on stage. “Introducing our entertainment for this evening!”

“Here’s your vodka cranberry.” The bartender hands you a glass as a gorgeous woman walks up to the microphone.

You thank him and take a few sips listening to the woman singing a slow ballad. You scan the crowd, looking to see if Hogan likes the music, but then you see him. It’s common knowledge that if you are looking at someone you can hear their voice better, though with you it’s like your ears are always plugged in to the Bucky Barnes Radio Show.

“Stevie, when do these things end?”

“Late, Buck. Around two.”

“In the morning?!”

You want to unplug the microphone so you can hear Bucky better, his baritone voice is heaven to your ears.  As the singer hits an impossibly high note, you wonder why people are clapping, impressed. Why is anyone listening to this, this noise when he’s speaking?

Struck with a sudden idea, you down the last of your drink and weave your way around the mesmerized guests. You squeeze past two middle-aged men—who, if you’re not mistaken, invented Google; they’re probably smart as hell, but they seem to like the sound of nails on a chalkboard, so you can’t give them too much credit—and find yourself behind the two supersoldiers. You poke the brunet’s bicep.

His bored face lights up at the sight of you.

“Y/N!”

“Hey, Bucky? Want to go play Monopoly?”

His reply was instantaneous. “Yes, absolutely. I’d love to play Monopoly with you. Bye Steve.”

“Bucky no—“

Bucky takes your hand and you’re around the corner before Steve can finish.  

“You’re the best, Y/N,” he says, and the butterflies in your stomach flap their wings to the rhythm of his words. “I was dying in there.”

“I know the feeling.”

An hour later, you’re losing. Badly. Despite being from the 40s, Bucky is annoyingly good at real estate.  You count forward three spots and land on Boardwalk, one of his properties. Slowly, hoping he’s not paying attention, you move your piece four spots, bypassing the danger of triple hotels.

“No, no, that’s four, not three!”

“Did I roll a three?”

“You did.”

You cover the die nonchalantly.  “No, I didn’t.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, and suddenly it’s a war, he’s trying to pull your hand up, and you’re trying to keep it down.  To nobody’s surprise, he wins, and the number three is revealed.

“Mwahaha,” he grabs at the last of your pitiful money pile, throwing the coloured bills up in the air. “You’re bankrupt!”

The floor-to-ceiling windows around you show the stars, twinkling magnificently bright in the clear night sky. But Bucky’s singing We Are The Champions and he’s messing up the lyrics and he’s completely off-key and you’re positive it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever witnessed.

Third; your ears are tuned to his voice. You could pick him out in a sea of thousands. His voice makes pretty singers who sing pretty songs sound dull. His voice makes everything else ugly.

Bucky’s eyes should be a crayon colour, you decide.  

He has a habit. Whenever anyone says something ridiculous, Bucky looks to you like you’re the camera in The Office. And when they say a ridiculous paragraph, he widens his eyes in disbelief, pursing his lips to avoid cracking a smile. This happens a lot when Steve’s feeling particularly adventurous. It’s in these moments where time seems to slow, and you wish it would stop completely so you can study his eyes longer. Bucky has a myriad of blue that swirls to create a whirlpool of taunting winks and irritated smirks.  The wrinkled smile lines and long, dark eyelashes accentuate it perfectly.

After all, if you email Crayola, you better have a description.

Your favourite shade is when he scrunches them up from laughing.  They’re so blue they literally glow, as if they repel light instead of absorbing it.  You’re rooted to your spot when this happens.  Like you’re on a ship, and those eyes, blue like an ocean sea, are begging you to set sail with them, to cast your doubts away and leave the mainland behind.  

You’re writing this fantasy into your journal when you realize how deep you are: you’re not on the ship anymore.  

Fourth; the color of his eyes is blue enough to drown in.  He is turning you into a cliched love-wrecked being. You’re drowning, always sinking. Down, down, down.

Screaming wakes you from sleep.  Throwing off your covers, you don’t have to follow the heartbreaking sounds to know they are coming from Bucky’s room.  When you knock, you find that the door opens at your touch.

“Bucky?”

Bucky is thrashing in his bed, the covers pushed down at his feet, the sheets underneath him dark.  Your eyes rake over his anguished face; he’s sweating, and fighting some sort of invisible monster. Recently you’ve been helping him with his nightmares and you can tell, it’s a bad one tonight.  

You climb onto the mattress and nudge him gently. “Bucky, wake up.”  Nothing happens, so you shake him harder then duck as his metal fist flies at your head. It hits the wall with a sickening crunch, and this is what wakes Bucky up.  He sits up, gasping.

“Y/N? Oh my god.” He reaches out like he wants to lift you up from your flattened position, but before he does, he sees the dent in the wall and recoils.  The anguish turns to horror, and you can’t tell which one is worse.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

You take his hands from behind his back and intertwine your fingers. You push his chin up so he meets your eyes.

“I’m okay, don’t worry.”

“I nearly hurt you.”

“The key word here is nearly,” you soothe, “Let’s get you into new clothes.”

You slip over to his wardrobe and open his drawers to find another shirt.  When you turn around, Bucky’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his face buried in his hands.

He’s in pain, and you feel it too.  You are also angry, angry at the world, because they victimized him; angry at Hydra, because they caused Bucky to feel this way. You want to track down each and every person who hurt him and rip them apart in increasingly creative ways, but you settle for collecting Bucky in your arms and wiping away his tears.  

During your nights with him he’s confided in you the process of getting over his guilt and the fears that still haunt him.  It didn’t happen right away, oh no, it took time to show him you would stay no matter what.  Knowing Bucky, truly, bad and good, past and present, it could never push you away. Nothing could. You’re here for the long haul.

You’re lying on your back when he calms enough to fall asleep.  Bucky’s torso is on top of yours, hugging you, and his face is angled so you can feel his breaths on your skin; you’re satisfied when you confirm they’re even. Playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, you glare at the ceiling like it’s going to come attack Bucky too.

“No more. Don’t try anything.  Or else you have me to deal with,” you growl to the world.

You’ll fiercely protect this man with everything you have, with every word, every muscle, every breath. Adjusting your hold on his back, you match your exhales to Bucky’s and drift off, mentally making a note to take him to the zoo soon.  He loves feeding the penguins.

Fifth; you know him. You love him. Through a thousand lifetimes, across millions of stars, you’d find him. You’d never leave. You love him. Till death do you part.

Bucky wakes to a rhythmic beating sound.  

Opening his eyes, he sees he’s lying on you, over your heart, and the corners of his mouth turn upwards. Bucky recalls last night. Not the nightmare, no, because you chased it away—he remembers you.  You being here for him, you saying the words of affirmation he so badly needed to hear to calm down, they further solidified the place he had carved for you to be forever in his life. He was so nervous and scared that you’d leave once you saw what he was capable of, but you stayed, and here you are.

On an impulse, he kisses your temple and you smile in your sleep. You’re so beautiful, he thinks.

Bucky watches your eyes move under their lids, and he wonders of what you’re dreaming. Hopefully it’s something good. You deserve it; you deserve the world, in his mind.

The sun is not yet up, so he relaxes again. He’s so comfortable and you’re so lovely, Bucky never wants to move. Your heart, with every beat, pumps into him more peace, and more clarity.

Bucky’s sure of one thing. It’s the one thing you don’t know.

Sixth; he loves you, too.

{insp}

still new, still small, still really love you all

@fxckmebuck @buckyywiththegoodhair @avengerofyourheart @bovaria@wndas-romanoff@thejamesoldier @caplanbuckybarnes @papi-chulo-bucky @buckybarnesismypreciousplum@redgillan  @seeyainanotherlifebrotha @langinator @secondstartotheright-imagines

[schonart]

The Starks (Peter Parker x Stark!Reader) Chapter 4

 Hey guys! I’m really happy that you guys like this, at least I think you guys like it….

I made the curfew 7 o’clock in second chapter, that was because I forgot that American high school ends around 3 or 4. Here high school ends at almost 6 and if you stay for late night studying, 10. So I changed it to 5 o’clock. The curfew.

I just realized that T.A.D.A.S.H.I. is 忠 which means loyalty. Apparently he doesn’t seem to be loyal to [Name]. hehehe

Tag list: @ unidentified--subject  @ miraisnotavailable @ pinkleopardss @ little-miss-headphones @ i-did-it-because-i-can 

If i missed anyone please let me know;;;

Chapter 1

After [Name] and Peter’s talk she was more relaxed around him. Also she became close to Ned as well. What bothered her was that people didn’t let her have quiet normal life. She was Stark and just the name grabbed everyone’s attention. Even the most popular kids wanted to hang out with her. She did her best to get away and hide, and Peter helped her with that. That caused [Name] to trust Peter more and more. And Peter was the only one who made her felt ‘normal’. The life she wanted to have for a long time.

“[Name], how many times to I have to say, no?” Tony sighed, obviously annoyed by the question his lovely daughter said. [Name] bit her lips, trying not to frown.

“But, but…”

“No buts. You are not going there! That place is dangerous! You know that! Your orphanage had the worst selection of the location. You saw the news! There was a murder last week around that area. The only time you will be going to Queens is for your school and Happy needs to be with you.”

“Then Happy can come with me!”

“Happy got other things to do.”

“But… it’s been so long since I met my old friends. I just want to visit them.”

“You can bring them over here.”

“She doesn’t want to come.”

Tony rolled his eyes, not understanding why would someone decline invitation from Stark.

“Please Father. Just once.”

“One time can lead to another. No, I’m not allowing you to go there. Now go up and do your homework.”

[Name] basically got kicked out of the office and she dragged herself up to her room, politely declining the invitation to join other members having a movie night. She lied down on her bed and stared at her phone. She wanted to see her friends so much. She felt her eyes stinging with tears but didn’t let them out. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to think up of a way to meet with them.

Her phone suddenly buzzed, interrupting her thought. She groaned and picked it up, Peter. Then idea hit her, something that would definitely get her into trouble later. But was worth it.

“Are you sure you want this?” Peter asked during lunch. Ned seemed worried of it as well.

[Name] nodded. “Look, they were practically my family before I got adopted. And I haven’t seen them for over a month.”

Peter and Ned looked at each other. Peter sighed, “Okay, we will help you sneak out through the back door. But what about your AI? And your phone may have tracker.”

“I had it off since the 3rd period.”

“Oh.”

“Father’s going to kill me.”

“We don’t want to lose you [Name]. Now are you really sure?” [Name] nodded. Her face filled with determination.

And that’s how the three snuck out the back door, crawled under the fence to get as far away from Happy, waiting for [Name] at the front of the school. [Name] seemed excited rather than worried and that made Peter and Ned worried.

Ned had to leave because he had some kind of ‘family reunion’ so it was just [Name] and Peter walking down the street of Queens, toward where her orphanage was. [Name] was silent but it seemed like she was holding it down because she was so excited. Peter smiled. Seeing her this excited, definitely was a rare sight. And he would tell her this later.

“Peter?” Her voice was shaking.

“Yeah?”

“Can I borrow your phone?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Peter dug into his pocket and placed the phone on her shaking hand. She slowly called someone.

“Hello? Mikah? Yeah it’s me. Huh? Oh it’s my friend’s phone. Yes, I do have a friend. Hmm? Yeah, okay, I’ll meet you there, see ya.” [Name] smiled as she handed the phone back to Peter.

“So um do you want me to stay? Or should I just go now?”

“Huh? Oh please do stay. I want to introduce you to them.”

“Them?”

“Yes. Mikah, Ethan, and Gurge. The 4 of us used to hang out together all the time.”

Peter raised his brow, wondering if Gurge was his real name.

“Oh, it’s not our real name.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“The name we use, it’s not our real name. We call each other that because various reasons. We didn’t like our name or we just wanted to be someone else, you know, like an alter ego or something.”

Peter liked that idea, “Then what was yours?”

“[Name].”

“[Name]? But that’s your name.” Peter said.

“That’s now my birth name. I used [Name] when I was with them and Father, um, Tony Stark, didn’t really cared about the name so I decided to have my second life with my second name.”

“Oh.” Peter was now curious about her life before she was adopted. She never talked about it. And it never came to his mind.

“Then what’s your real name?”

“Huh? Um that’s-“

“[Name]!“

They turned around to see a girl and a bulky guy walking toward them. Peter gulped at the sight of the dude but [Name] beamed.

“Mikah! Ethan!” she ran toward them and hugged Mikah tightly.

“Oh my gosh, I missed you guys so much!” She hugged Ethan too.

“We missed you too [Name].” Ethan said, hugging back.

“Hey where’s Gurge?” [Name] asked, looking around and releasing her friend.

“He’s hurt.”

[Name] paled, “Again? It’s not serious, right?”

Her friends shrugged.

Peter was just awkwardly standing there, watching [Name] smiling and talking with her friends.

[Name] then saw Peter and with guiltiness in her heart she introduced him to her friends.

“Uh guys, this is Peter Parker. My friend at new school.” [Name] said with an apologizing smile to Peter. He smiled back and walked up to them. Mikah glanced between [Name] and Peter and smiled.

“So this is Peter Parker? Who’d been annoying you for quiet long time?”

“Mikah!” [Name] exclaimed and both her and Peter blushed.

“What? You also told me that it was all cool now, right? And you guys are good friends now. Or am I wrong?” she grinned and nudged Ethan. Who by the way didn’t seem to get it.

[Name] knew that grin. The devil’s grin, she and other friends used to call. Ethan saw it too but did his best to ignore it and walked up to Peter, trying to befriend him and give Mikah and [Name] a chance to have a conversation. Luckily for Peter, Ethan liked Star Wars too.

“Mikah, what are you thinking right now…?”

Mikah snickered and shrugged. “I don’t know…? Listen sis,”

“What?” [Name] made a face since Mikah called her ‘sis’ only when she’s thinking something [Name] didn’t like.

“Sis, you don’t really talk about guys and you talk about him all the time.”

“He and Ned are my friends.” She said, and quickly added, “Only friends.”

“But you don’t talk about this Ned guy often.”

“What are you trying to say?” [Name] frowned.

“Look princess-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sis, you obviously li-“

“Don’t say that.” [Name] said, glaring at her friend. Mikah smirked and raised her hands in defeat. It seemed that she had already made up her mind.

“Mikah, I missed you.” [Name] smiled. Mikah smiled back and leaned against building’s wall.

“And I-“

Her phone vibrated violently and she took it out. Somehow it was turned on.

“That’s weird, I thought I turned it off.”

The phone’s screen got very bright and angry voice of a male boomed out.

“Lady [Name] you are in big trouble! How dare you turn off your phone. Boss is coming over right now so don’t you dare move.” [Name] and Mikah stared at the phone, startled. then a huge honk disturbed her and she turned to look at the car. [Name] paled. The one who got off the car was none other than Tony Stark himself. Peter stood up, he was in awe.

[Name] tugged on Mikah’s sleeves. She understood and both Ethan and she ran away.

[Name] stepped close to Peter and whispered, “I think you should go too.”

“What? But that’s Tony Stark! Standing right in front of me!”

“I know. Please Peter. Please just go.” Peter wanted to stay. Not just because of Tony Stark but it seemed to him that she needed some support.

“[Name], I-“

“Just go. I will see you at school on Monday.” [Name] pushed him and walked up to her Father.

Peter watched her get into the car and quietly turned around, walking back to his home.

-

Peter was glad to see [Name] alive when he came to school.

“[Name]!”

She jumped in surprise but greeted Peter with polite smile. “Hi Peter.”

“So um, nothing bad happened? You are not grounded or anything?”

“If you put it that way Peter, I was grounded since the day I got there.” She said as she closed her locker door.

“You are in trouble or not?”

She shrugged. “I, I don’t know….” She seemed quiet angry to Peter. The atmosphere around her definitely changed. Last week, [Name] Peter knew was quiet, calm, polite, and shy. She still seemed to be but something was added and he just couldn’t name it.

“Are you sure you are okay? He didn’t seem to just let it go.”

“Peter you saw him from dozen feet away, and he was wearing sunglasses.”

“You know, just, you know…”

[Name] smiled. “Peter I’m really fine. I’m not going to move or change school. And he’s not abandoning me if you are worried about that.”

Peter sighed. “Well if you say so.” [Name] nodded and waved her hand, telling him to meet at lunch.

He watched her go. And he knew. Something definitely happened and it wasn’t something happy.

[i-am-not-a-mouse]

- Growth - (a Stony fanfic)

("Soulmate"AU where you get a tattoo for every person you fall in love with)

Pepper's tattoo is on her hip. Well, the one that isn't faded yet. 

There are five dull, grey ones scattered across her body, seemingly random and different in shape and size, but what do they matter? They're done.  It's over. The only one she looks at these days are the sunglasses on her hip. They're big. Obnoxiously big and shiny and she knows who they're for, of course she knows. Tony has a little stiletto to match, right there on his ankle, bright blue and sparkly and the first time he showed her, she nearly apologized. It's hideous and the both know, but it means love, so who's gonna complain? 

Understandably, no one is happy when the sunglasses start losing colour. At first, it isn't even visible, the fade from black to grey barely noticeable, but then the grey becomes off-white and the glass loses its shine and Tony leaves, a bright blue stiletto still sparkling on his skin.

But Tony is fine, he said. Its fine, he's fine - he's always fine.

And Pepper sighs and strokes the steering wheel on the back of her hand that just appeared the day before.

Tony is fine.

It takes about a year for the stiletto to fade. A few times, Tony thinks it must be over now: when the heel loses some of its sparkle or when the bright blue turns a bruised purple, but no. It always comes back, with a tilt of her head or the freckles on her nose.

Tony doesn't love easy.

The stiletto is his only tattoo and he  lets the world know that he likes it that way. Of course he doesn't, not really, but what does it matter? He has everything he needs, materially, and lately even the rest looks somewhat promising. 

Natasha moved her stuff into the tower a few weeks ago, Clint followed soon after. He doesn't really get what their deal is - they share a tattoo (a striking blue eye and a curl of red hair), but it's long since faded and they don't seem to care. Bruce has one, right behind his ear. Tony notices at breakfast once, but doesn't dare to ask. Some secrets are better to keep. Especially tiny spiders. He knows Thor has many, they cover most of his back and a great part of his chest. He is a god after all, and he loves as easy as a child. Still, the most prominent one sits above his heart, a golden horn and icy shards. 

No one ever asks about that one. 

And then there's Steve. Steve who's the only one with a permanent mark, whose tattoo never fades, not even when Peggy dies and her skin is washed clear. 

It's cruel, in a way. 

It's cruel for two reasons: one, Steve will never recover. Whatever the doctors may say, Tony knows he won't. There's something broken in his eyes nowadays and even though sometimes it melds again, for sweet little moments at lunch with the team or when dummy hands him the right brush, it will never be fixed, the lipstick-stain on his wrist will never leave him. And that is cruel.

The second reason is in the way Tony's left shoulder has been itching lately. There's nothing there yet, but he can feel it happening, can feel his skin rearranging like a Mosaik and frankly, he's freaking out. The first root appears on a Monday, while they're training on the roof of Avengers tower - Tony's aim has been lacking and he wants to test the new upgrade for the suit. Steve throws a waterballoon in the air with a whoop and grins a carefree smile when Tony hits it dead on, the remains of their makeshift target raining down on Steve's head. 

His shoulder twitches in pain when Steve giggles and he freezes. Steve notices, of course. "Are you okay, Tony? What's wrong?" But Tony smiles and shrugs it off.

Later, in his own quarters, he can't get his shirt off quick enough. And there it is, a small brown root, still growing on his skin. By morning, the root has a stem and a few twigs, little leaves are sprouting from its biggest branches and it looks like it may grow onto his chest. He supposes it's pretty. It could've been much worse, a shield on his face or wings on his ears or whatever else Tony's sleepdeprived brain had dreamed up ever since his skin started itching. 

It's nice.

By evening, he doesn't think it's nice anymore. It just won't stop growing. The stem reaches well past his collarbone now, the branches are encircling his arc reactor as if they're trying to cradle it in a bed of leaves and there are small flowers blooming on some of them. It looks like he walked right through a hippie dreamland.

He puts his shirt on and forgets about it for the day.

Until he gets reminded rather forcefully. Naturally, it's Natasha who notices first. They're having a quiet evening for once, the lounge smells of takeaway pizza and curry and everyone's more or less asleep. Tony is listening to Steve's tale of his newest painting, including a detailed explanation for the streaks of paint the process left on his arm that just won't go away, when Natasha's hand suddenly shoots up and catches Tony's elbow. Her eyes turn into slits as she focuses on his shoulder where his shirt is not quite covering the beginnings of a few roots. "What's that?" she asks, but it's not really a question and it doesn't sound like one. The room goes even quieter than before. Tony attempts a laugh, but it comes out like a cough and now everyone's staring at him. "It's my new tattoo, you like it?" She raises a perfect eyebrow but it's Clint who says something first. "Woah, when did that happen? You dog, have you been seeing someone?" "Yes. Fury. We're getting married next month." "WHAT?!" Tony sighs and stands up, disentangling himself from Steve's legs that somehow always end up on his lap. "Look, it doesn't matter." "But-" "Clint, it doesn't matter. That's all." The others share a few glances, Steve is frowning, Bruce is scratching absentmindedly at a spot behind his ear, Thor is trying to fit a whole slice of pizza into his mouth (he's been distracted since Loki fell into the void), Natasha looks like she's already figured out who it is and Clint is still shaken up from the Fury Comment.

For just a second, Tony considers telling them.

But it's just a second and it passes.

He nearly burns his hand off when Steve says "I have another tattoo", but Dummy catches the blowtorch before it sets everything on fire. "How long have you been there?" Steve smiles slightly. "A while. You didn't hear anything I just said, did you?" 

Tony turns around and really looks at Steve. He's nervous, that much is obvious. Hopeful maybe, like someone who's desperately holding onto something but trying to let go at the same time. It doesn't seem to be working. "Sorry, sorry. Could you ... repeat that?"

"Long or short version?" Tony scratches at a streak of oil on his cheek. "... short? For now?" Steve nods and blushes and then squares his shoulders like he's posing for a magazine. "I have another tattoo." 

Tony's heart does a backflip. "Y-you - really? How does that work? I mean..." he gestures to his wrist where the lipstick is clearly still bright red and shiny. Steve shrugs. "I don't know. I just... got another tattoo and that's it." 

"Okay, so let's just ignore the scientific impossibility of this. Nice. Then why are you telling me this? Shouldn't you be with the one it's fo- Oh." 

Steve's blush reaches his neck and he hides his face in his hands. "I know i know, it's stupid, i just... thought you'd like to know." he peeks through his fingers and is met with the biggest shiteating grin he's ever seen. "Tony? What-" 

"You like me!" 

Steve frowns. "Well. Yes? I thought that much was obvious?" "Obvious?!? Are you kidding me?" "Tony, what do you-" "Can I see it?" 

Steve just looks at him. And then he rolls up the sleeve of his jumper, very very slowly. The paint is still there. Red and gold, in strange swirls and brushstrokes, as if Steve accidentally leant against one of his paintings.

It looks beautiful. 

"So it wasn't just paint." Steve shakes his head with a small smile "No. I thought it was just very resistent to soap and scrubbing at first, but... it won't budge and- Tony. What are you doing." Tony is very obviously removing his shirt, but that's not what Steve is asking - When the shirt is finally tossed to some faraway corner of the workshop, Steve's eyes widen to a very unhealthy size and he splutters: "Wow, that's big." Tony giggles and mumbles "that's what she said" but Steve doesn't seem to be listening. 

Tony's tattoo has grown a lot these past few days. The branches carry ripe apples now, the leaves are a healthy deep green and the arc reactor is fully encircled. 

"Wow." 

"Right? Guess I like you more than I'd originally planned." He's going for nonchalance, but it's clearly lost on Steve, who looks up to Tony's face so fast he's lucky he doesn't get whiplash. 

"Me." 

Tony's smile falls. "Yes...? Who else could it be?" For a few seconds, the only sound to be heard is Dummy's confused whirring. "You - that is for me?" "I think I already said that, yes." Steve gulps. "But. But why an appletree?" "Really? That's the first thing that comes to your mind? Because I don't know, okay, maybe you're just an apple kinda guy. You know, as in wholesome American families. I don't know." Steve's hand twitches towards Tony's chest. "Can I -" "Go ahead." 

The moment Steve's finger makes contact with one of the apples, a few more branches reach around the arc reactor and create  an even tighter net, as if holding in Tony's wildly beating heart. Steve  sucks in a sharp breath. "It's still growing!" Tony smiles. "Anything I could say to that would surpass the limit of sap I can take for a day." Steve's blush deepens and he raises his head to meet his eyes."Say it anyway?" "I ... I think if I'm very unlucky, it might never stop growing. At least if ... I manage to keep you around?" There's something beneath his words, something he doesn't dare to say, but Steve hears it anyway. 

The paint on his right forearm pulses in deep red to the beat of his heart and he smiles when a few sprinkles of gold extend up to his elbow. "I think you'll do just fine."

Over the years, their tattoos grow. 

Steve's gains colours, a diverse palette of Anthony Stark: The brown of his eyes on his upper arm, a few sprinkles of grey in the deep chestnut on his wrist, darker patches of skin on his shoulder, and the dusty rose of his lips right over his elbow, until he has a complete sleeve of brown and red and gold and every other colour that is Tony Stark. He loves wearing tanktops now, although Darcy declares it a crime in fashion about two weeks in. 

Tony only smiles. He smiles a lot these days, can't bring himself to stop when his appletree grows stronger everyday, leaves bright and branches thick and when their little daughter says Daddy for he first time and the swings appear on the strongest one and when tattooed birds settle down in the shelter of his chest, the second set of swings already itching on his skin.

And when Steve hugs him tight on the day of Pepper's wedding and asks if he's okay, he touches his chest where his arc reactor lies safe and sound in a bed of leaves and apples and says he's fine.

And for the first time it's not a lie.

Hope you liked it ♥

(Also hi @ir0nshield I’m tagging you because you’re the only one I know who ships them ^^)