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cagestark · 4 years

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The Rest it Kills

About this: ballerina!peter and mobster!tony. Starker. Physical and emotional between established quentin beck/peter parker.

THIS IS UNFINISHED. Anyone is welcome to continue it.

“FRIDAY, baby? Do you have the shot?”

It’s a celebration, which does nothing to explain why the room gets quiet as soon as Tony enters it. Around the table are four of his best and brightest, the handful of underlings that were instrumental in helping Tony execute his vision of how to repay Adrian Toomes for encroaching upon his weapons market. For a job well done, he’d invited them up to the penthouse to have at his expensive collection of spirits.

He’d left them alone for only a half hour to make a few calls, but now upon his return they were shifty eyed and babbling about something inconsequential, a sure sign that they had hastily changed the subject.

“Alright,” Tony says, pouring himself a glass of scotch. “Out with it. I’m a paranoid bastard at best. At worst?—well. Ask Toomes.”

“It’s nothing bad, Tony,” Rogers says. If the fact that Rogers hadn’t told a lie his entire life didn’t put Tony at ease, then his clear eyes and voice did. Rogers was his number two, and they got on thick as thieves. He’s about as likely to lie to Tony as the sun is not to rise.

“Then I’m not angry,” Tony says, taking the empty seat. “But now I’m curious. Which is worse?”

“Angry,” Wilson says in that deadpan way that Tony just adores.

“Come on, don’t leave me in suspense,” Tony says, finishing his scotch with a single gulp. He pours himself another.

It’s Romanov who—doesn’t break, per say. Tony isn’t convinced that there’s anything that could break Natasha, though if they were on opposite sides, he might have a few places he’d be willing to start. She must weigh the pros and cons and decide that letting Tony in on their little secret is the best move. Whether it’s best for her, for them, or for someone else, Tony can’t say.

She shifts and pulls out a piece of paper folded in half and tosses it across the table. Barnes and Rogers groan.

“Nat, you rat,” Barnes says.

“Wow,” she says, eyes glittering. “That rhymed, Bucky. It was beautiful.”

“What the fuck is this?” Tony wonders out loud as he unfolds the paper. It turns out to be nothing extraordinary. It’s a program for the New York City Ballet. The ballet is something new by Ratmansky, with principal dancers MAXIMOFF/PARKER. “Ballet? Taking up a new hobby, Barnes?”

“I thought I’d look great in the tights,” is all Barnes says. A deflection if Tony’s ever heard one.

“Their boy toy is the lead,” Romanov admits (to fresh groaning from around the table).

Tony’s eyebrows raise. “Boy toy? All three of you?”

“We are in the process of wooing him, so to speak,” Wilson admits, taking a swig from the bottle in front of him. “Barnes and Rogers might be willing to tag team him, but I want him all for myself.”

Rogers’s eyes flash, cold steel in the overhead lights. “Watch the way you’re talking about Peter. He’s not a piece of meat to be shared.”

“This is a goddamn episode of the Bachelor,” Tony laughs. “Which one is Peter: Maximoff or Parker?”

“Parker,” all four chime together.

“I feel like a father whose kids are going out on their first date. Are you buying him flowers? Are you opening the car door for him? Are you being safe?” Tony jests. He leans back in his chair feeling the warm thrum of the scotch in his stomach, glancing from one besotted man to the next.

“All that and more,” Barnes says. Then, with more than a little bitterness: “It’s the way he deserves to be treated.”

Tony lifts his brows. Natasha slides him the deck of cards so that he can shuffle. He’ll lose, especially once he’s as drunk as he hopes to be, but there’s no amount of money he could lose to them that wouldn’t amount to pocket change in his book. Consider it their bonus. As he deals, he asks, “Trouble in paradise?”

“You could say that,” Wilson mutters. “He’s not exactly on the market.”

“Never took you for a homewrecker, Rogers. Barnes maybe—“

“Hardly a home to wreck,” Barnes admits. “Not a happy one, at least. Pete’s boyfriend is a perverted, abusive low life.”

Tony goes stiff. The buzzing in his gut transfers to his brain, raw as the sizzle of electricity. In his mind, he sees himself as a young boy sitting cross-legged by the vanity in his mother’s room watching her apply creams and powders to disguise Howard’s abuse. All the heinous crimes Tony commits, that one is not among them. He doesn’t prey on the weak. It’s the only promise to his mother that he’s never broken.

“So, take care of him,” Tony says lowly. “Do you or do you not have certain skills and the balls to use them? You could kill this boyfriend and have it look like a hundred different accidents. What’s the problem here? Do you need daddy’s permission or something? Well, here, I’m giving it.”

Rogers scowls darkly at his hand. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Wouldn’t I? Regale me, then! Because it sounds to me like I’m sitting around the table with a bunch of pussies.”

“Peter asked us not to,” Barnes says.

Tony blinks. “Is—is that it? Good God. Definitely a bunch of pussies. Kill the bastard anyway. If you can’t stomach it; if you don’t want your boy toy mad at you, give me a name and I’ll do it. It can be done before we’re four rounds into poker, for fuck’s sake.”

“It’s not like we don’t have the stomach for it,” Wilson says. He’s the newest of their crew, but Tony appreciates his fearlessness, the open, unabashed expression he gives Tony when calling him out on perceived bullshit. “It’s about respect, man. We respect Peter’s wishes, and he trusts us because of it.”

The form of respect Tony is most acquainted with is fear. This softness he sees in his men right now translates to nothing short of weakness. Tony has never lived in a fairytale: the world is hard, and it makes hard people.

The rest, it kills.

“It’s complicated,” Rogers says to soothe Tony’s hackles. “If you knew the kid, you’d understand I think.”

“Now you’ve gone and done it,” Barnes mutters. There’s movement underneath the table: one person kicking another, everyone jolting to get their legs out of the way. Barnes looks like he’s sucked on a lemon, or taken a shot of Nat’s imported whiskey. “Now he’s gonna go see Pete for himself and none of us will have a chance.”

As it is, Tony doesn’t have to lift a finger to meet Peter because Peter comes to him.

Tony knows the benefit of giving his men a nice long leash.

He doesn’t have to. With them living in the Tower, it’s within his rights to keep surveillance on all of them; except he knows that distrust breeds distrust. Wilson, Romanov, Rogers, and Barnes have earned his trust. For that reason alone, he removed the wiretaps and cameras in their rooms upon their arrivals.

But it’s still his home, and he watches it. Closely. Tony has just poured his third glass of scotch when FRIDAY alerts him that there’s an unauthorized presence in the Tower.

“Unescorted?” Tony asks. His blood thrums—this is the most exciting thing to happen all day.

“Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes are the ones who granted him entrance using Mr. Roger’s passcode, and they appear to be returning to Mr. Rogers apartment, judging by the floor number selected in the private elevator.”

Tony rolls his eyes, relaxing back in his chair. “A fuck, baby?”

Tony has asked them not to entertain guests at the Tower without his authorization, but Tony was young once. He knew the thrill of breaking rules, how good forbidden, casual sex could feel. He wouldn’t put it past Rogers and Barnes to have grown bored, considering they’ve been dicking each other down since they were teens. Just thinking about twenty years of monogamy has his cock shriveling. If they’re just bringing home someone to bend between them and spitroast, Tony’s not going to bother abandoning his scotch.

“Judging by the young man’s level of inebriation, I would hope not.”

Groaning, Tony sets his scotch aside. He gives it a mournful glance while he steps into a pair of jeans and straps up. “I’m coming back for you, baby,” he whispers. “Wait for me. Take no other lover. Fuck, I hate wasting my humor on an empty room.”

“I’m here, boss,” FRI offers.

Tony rolls his eyes.

When he knocks on Steve’s (Steve and Bucky’s apartment, considering how much time Bucky spends there) at fifteen minutes ‘til midnight on a Thursday, he would usually expect a bleary-eyed blonde to crack the door open, a dark apartment the backdrop behind him. Instead, the door opens and light floods out into the hallway. Steve is dressed in his pajamas, that is to say that he’s wearing only a pair of pajama pants that cling to his hipbones for dear fucking life.

“FRI said there’s someone in my building and they’re drunker than I am. Don’t you know that’s a crime?” Tony asks, leaning against the doorframe. The cock of his hip emphasizes where his gun rests, but Steve’s eyes don’t even flicker to it.

Nonplussed, Steve just steps aside to give Tony room to enter.

Slumped on the sofa, bundled underneath a large blanket is a young man. Handsome, his face is a testament to masculinity: cut jaw, straight nose, flat brows and thin lips. The only hint of estrogen is the clear, smooth skin that looks like he’s never grown facial hair in his life. Right away, Tony places his bets that he knows who this kid is.

Peter Parker is resplendent, large brown eyes that blink sluggishly, dragging all over Tony’s figure like his eyes can’t decide where to rest. Sitting up, the blanket falls away and reveals his naked chest which Tony eyes with appreciation. He has the optimal figure for a ballerino, obvious strength that is lean and not bulky.

One of the thin lips is split, bruise blooming like the most tender flower beside his mouth. The wound opens when the kid’s mouth falls open.

“Ohmygod,” he slurs, elbows shaking from lack of strength. He collapses back onto the comfortable couch. “Tony Stark is here.”

Were he not so sobered by the kid’s appearance, the bruises and blood and the red-rimmed eyes and raw mouth, he might be charmed. Bucky appears dressed no more than Steve and Tony, a glass of water in his hand. He helps Peter sit up and coaxes him to drink from the glass. Every other sip, Peter gets distracted, gaping from naked chest to naked chest. At one point, he falls asleep propped up on Bucky’s shoulder.

“He’s not drunk,” Tony says, standing back with Steve while they watch Bucky try to coax the kid into consciousness. “Drugged?”

Steve hums. A muscle in his jaw jumps from how he’s grinding it. “It’s not the first time. Beck and Peter have different tastes in the bedroom. Peter has mentioned before that sometimes after their date nights, he wakes up sore.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. And you haven’t killed this guy, yet?”

Steve looks downright tortured. He does it well; Tony’s always thought of him as a bit of a melodramatic. “Peter would never see us again if we did. We have to decide between being around to support and protect him or not being around at all.”

“If Beck was dead,” Tony says coldly. “There’d be nothing to protect him from.”

“James,” Peter groans, losing and finding purpose again during the middle of the word. “Tony Stark is here!”

“In the flesh, kid,” Tony says, stepping forward. Peter’s eyes trace down Tony’s chest, tracing the matting of scars over his sternum before dipping over his abs (nowhere near as pronounced as Barnes or Rogers’s, but Tony does alright). The kid licks his lips. He can’t help but preen a little, winking at Bucky who is rolling his eyes. “

The curiosity has been planted like a seed deep inside Tony’s mind. It sprouts, soaking up thoughts until it’s the only thing he can think about, Peter Parker, principal dancer, owner of three of his best-men’s hearts.

It leads Tony here, to the best seats money can’t even buy at the Lincoln Center in Manhattan, dressed in his best tuxedo, dark eyes focused on the curtain that glows gold. His heart pounds when it withdraws on a dark, empty stage, though he hardly knows why.

By the end, he has a better idea.

There’s no hiding a single sharp line or sensual curve in the outfits they wear onstage, the pale tights and leotards. There is nothing soft about him save for his curls, but still he leaps and lands silent on his canvas-clad feet. The dance is obviously based around Maximoff’s character with Peter there as her supporting love interest, but even when the red-head bewitches the audience with her fouettés, Tony can’t take his eyes off of Peter’s figure, bowed at the edge of the stage and watching her with the sweetest supplication. When it is time for his own variation, he leaps and bows with a boneless grace that does more than take Tony’s breath away. It makes him hard. It makes him think about those long, strong legs wrapped around his waist while he gives the boy his cock. It makes him think about peeling those tights off and wrapping them around the dainty, pale wrists. It’s a good thing no one can see his erection behind the wall of his box seat when they all stand to give their ovation.

Peter bows and flushes, hand in hand with Maximoff before standing behind her sweetly while the entire place howls for her.

Tony thinks that maybe he’s starting to understand.

No one bothers him where he leans against the wall beside Peter’s dressing room door. Whether it is his reputation or his thunderous expression, he knows not, but he’s grateful for the lack of distractions while he eavesdrops on the conversation taking place inside the dressing room between Peter and a man Peter calls Quent.

—work harder in the gym. Have you been tracking your calories on the app we downloaded together?

Yes, Quent, Peter mumbles, barely audible through the walls.

All of them?

I said yes.

Don’t get defensive, babe. I had three different audience members come to talk to me about your figure tonight. It pisses me off too! If you’re ready to leave the industry—

You know I’m not.

Quentin sighs, the long-suffering sigh of an argument that has been often visited. I know. This is your dream. Poor baby. It must be so tough, loving a job that hurts you so much. But I’m so proud of you for pushing through, Peter, you know that, right? I just wish you were a little more grateful to me for trying to keep you on the right track. You treat me like the bad guy.

Peter doesn’t respond.

Is there anything you need before I go? How’s your back feeling? Your lifts looked a little strained towards the end.

Feels okay. I’ve got everything I need back at my apartment. I’ll go home and put my feet up.

You deserve it. Just don’t forget to use that app okay? There’s a rustle, a struggle, maybe Peter trying to pull away. But Tony’s always had an overactive imagination. Hey. Don’t be like that. I love you.

You too.

Peter. Say it right.

Tony slips away from the door before Quentin can come out. From his place around the corner, Tony still has decent vantage to put eyes on this man for himself. Average height, average weight. Fit enough—for a civilian. Tony’s hands positively ache for a gun. Though he’s carrying, he’s no fool. Now isn’t the time, nor the place.

Once he’s sure the man is gone and not returning, Tony makes his way back to the door. It’s time to meet this young talent from Queens (yeah, Tony read the brochure) for himself. But when Tony goes to lift his hand to knock, the door swings open.

Peter blinks in surprise. He’s dressed in gray leggings that look soft as cashmere, a NYDC hoodie on, sneakers on his feet. Spilling from the sneakers’ tops are black fuzzy socks, meant to keep his toes warm from the cold New York weather.

He’s limping.

And gaping. It never gets old, seeing the way his reputation precedes him. He loves the way the crowds part for him on the street, loves the way waiters and waitresses stammer and struggle to serve him, the way eyes grow wide like Tony is a god in the flesh.

Tony extends a hand. “I’m Tony Stark. It’s a pleasure to meet you; you’re a very talented dancer.”

“Hi,” Peter breathes, taking Tony’s hand. Tony grips gently, feeling like he’s liable to break bones, the kid’s so fucking delicate. And cold. But Tony knows the saying: cold hands, warm heart. He wonders what that makes him. Peter works to regain himself, saying, “Trust me, I know who you are. It’s so nice to meet you. Thank you—they didn’t tell me that anyone important was going to be in the audience.”

“They who?” Tony asks. “Your managers, or my men?”

Peter swallows, face draining of blood. As much as Tony likes these games, they aren’t as enjoyable when the worm on his hook is as pretty and polite as Peter is. He puts on his most charming (softest) smile and makes sure to ask, gesturing to the messy dressing room behind him, may I come in?

Nodding, Peter opens the door wider. They both ignore how he was clearly on his way out, a backpack in his hands. He sits it down carefully by the vanity where he applied his stage makeup and seats himself on the chair, nudging his shoes off. When he stretches the arches of his feet, he winces. Tony gives him a moment to settle, stepping around the tiny room and taking in the smells and sights. On one wall is a picture of Peter and Quentin, arms around each other, beaming.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asks, voice quiet. Tony glances over at him. “Are your—men in trouble?”

“No,” Tony admits. “If they were, I certainly wouldn’t be here watching ballet; I’d be...busy.”

Peter sags in relief. The way his shoulders hunch throw his collar bones into sharp prominence where they peek out from the neck of his sweatshirt. “Oh thank God. They’re so nice, Mr. Stark, and I promise they don’t tell me anything about their—your work. James still insists that he works for some guy named Potts in New Jersey. Who’s Tony Stank, he asked me when I brought you up.”

Tony lets his lips twitch. “James’s middle name is Buchanan. Some call him Bucky. Tell him I said: now we’re even.”

Peter grins and it’s radiant. Tony feels an unsteadiness in his gut, like missing a step on the stairs or hearing a gunshot go off when he’s not been the one to pull the trigger. There’s just the gentlest stirring of jealousy when Peter mouths the name, Bucky, testing the way it tastes and wrinkling his nose in laughter.

“I can’t wait to see the look on his face,” Peter says. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

Now might be the time to offer to let the kid use his given name but—Tony’s kind of into it. A few more instances of Mr. Stark rolling off that polished tongue might have Tony hardening in his tux. “Take a picture for me,” Tony suggests, sitting down on the cozy loveseat that is opposite of Peter’s vanity.

“You said—you enjoyed the show?” Peter asks, demure. The sleeves of his sweatshirt pass his wrists and most of his palms, turning his hands into adorable little sweater-paws. When he reaches up to bite at a nail, the sleeve slips down past his tiny wrist. Tony could surely wrap an entire hand around that wrist and have more to spare.

“It was incredible,” Tony admits. “I don’t usually have the attention span to sit through longer shows, but I was hooked from curtain rise to curtain fall, kid.”

Peter flushes, not so much in embarrassment as he does from the pleasure of being complimented. The flush of the drunk, though it seems Peter’s poison of choice is praise. Tony can’t help but want to spread him out on the sheets in his bedroom and say the sweetest, filthiest things to see if he can get the kid hard with just his voice. “I’m so glad. There hasn’t been as much press; new shows are always a little slow to take off. Wanda really is something special, though. She spent a season overseas and came back with so much more grace and growth—”

“Did she do well tonight?” Tony asks, unbuttoning the top button on his jacket to reveal the trim waist and vest beneath. He realizes what he’s doing just as the words are coming out of his mouth. Tony is flirting with Peter, and his flirtation is a force of nature. “I barely noticed her. Couldn’t take my eyes off of you, kid. How the hell you manage to dance that way, I can’t fathom.”

Now the flush hints at being flustered. He soaks in the way Peter’s face darkens, the way he hides behind one of his hands as the praise makes his posture go soft and waxy. His voice is remarkably even when he says, “Lots and lots of practice.”

“Your hard work pays off. I was captivated. I could tell that my men were the same.”

That topic sobers Peter, who sits up straighter. His pretty face twists, the question mark clear, the confusion too genuine for Tony to take it disrespectfully. On the contrary, Tony finds his forthrightness attractive when he asks, “Why did you come tonight, Mr. Stark?”

“I came to see what it was about you that has my men so enthralled,” Tony admits. With the kind of power he has comes the freedom to be honest, even painfully, brutally honest, because repercussions are either minimal or nonexistent.

“Did you figure it out?” Peter asks. Tony can’t help but feel like the kid is asking him for the both of them: what is it so special about me? Yes, this boy is fragile. That can’t be overlooked. But inside of him there’s still a spark of spirit ready to alight at any moment, grateful for any tinder that it’s given. He’s not Maria Stark. Not yet.

“Yes,” Tony says, standing. He rebuttons his jacket. “And I’d like very much to get to know you better, if you’re agreeable.”

“Me?” Peter’s head cocks, squinting up at Tony like he’s trying to see through him, to see what is really being said. “Why?”

Tony is used to letting his baser instincts guide him. He fucks who he wants, goes where he wants, says what he wants, and he owes no one alive an explanation for it. Many people have stopped asking Tony questions like why? Certainly none of Toomes’s men asked Tony why when he was torturing them forty-eight hours ago.

“Because I want to,” Tony says. He reaches down and picks up Peter’s backpack, putting it over his shoulder, the canvas bag downright gauche against his Givenchy tuxedo. “So what do you say, kid? You look dead on your feet, but would you like to be dead on your feet somewhere more private?”

Peter takes a long moment to think about it before tucking his toes into his shoes.

He belongs there amongst the backdrop of Tony’s penthouse. Peter glances around with all the coltish wonder of a newborn, running his fingers across the genuine leather of the sofa, leaning forward to look at the smart-glass table that Tony likes to prop his feet up on at night. Upon entering, Tony removes his tuxedo jacket and takes Peter’s hastily-removed sweatshirt. He appreciates the four inches of skin that appear when his shirt rides up, sticking to his outerwear.

He doesn’t appreciate the yellowing bruises dotting the kid’s biceps. Fingertips, he knows. His mother wore them round her neck like pearls.

“Is it okay if I take my shoes off?” Peter asks. He limped from the theater to the car, from the car to the elevator, and from the elevator to the couch where he collapsed with a sigh of relief. When Tony encourages him to, Peter nudges off his comfortable shoes and brings one foot up into his lap where he firmly presses his knuckles into the sole.

Peter asks for a drink. Tony gives him access to his wine, and the kid chooses for himself: a red, Chateau Margaux that smells of rose petals and hints at citrus and turns Peter’s cheeks pink. He doesn’t ask for a second glass, and Tony doesn’t offer it; the last thing he wants is the kid to think that Tony invited him here to take advantage of him.

“Tell me,” Tony asks, watching with rapt attention the faces Peter makes, like he’s dancing on the knife’s edge between pleasure and pain. “Tell me how you met my men. They aren’t exactly patrons of the arts.”

Peter’s face smoothes and he smiles. “It was Natalie, actually. She comes to shows every so often; I think her and one of the instructors know each other. Sometimes, she sponsors promising dancers.”

Romanov. Her and this instructor must truly know each other for her to be using a cover name around them. He files all this away in the darkest parts of his mind, should she ever become a problem someday. Tony has places reserved in his brain for all of his closest allies; already, he is making one for Peter too. Trust is earned but ever ephemeral.

“So Nat introduced you?”

“Yes. She sponsored me for a while, so we got to know each other pretty well. Once I mixed up my days and showed up at her condo when I wasn’t supposed to, and I met the others. Sometimes they would come to shows or send me gifts backstage.” Peter frowns. “I asked them to stop though because—Quent would just throw them all away.”

“Quentin Beck.”

“How’d you know?”

Tony just smiles and changes the subject. “You must know that the three of my men are half in love with you.”

Peter groans, pressing both his palms flat to his heated cheeks. “I had a feeling they were...interested. I hope they don’t feel that I’ve led them on, Mr. Stark. Nothing untoward happens at all when we’re together; sometimes I, I meet Steve and James for dinner, or other times Sam comes over to my apartment and we just talk, I promise. They’re so kind and it’s—it’s nice to have people to talk to.”

Peter stops talking abruptly, mouth open. He lets it fall closed with a click. When Tony prods him gently, he admits, “The attention is nice, too. It feels good, feeling wanted. Does that make me bad?”

Tony wonders what kind of miserable asshole would have Peter in his bed at night and not show the kid attention. It takes a special fuck-up to come home to a lover like Peter and not make him feel wanted. “Wanting attention? Not at all, kid. It’s the least of what you deserve.”

“You sound like them,” Peter says, smiling. “James and Steve and Sam. They’re always doing and saying nice things and telling me that I deserve them.”

“Good,” says Tony, one side of his mouth curling upwards. “I feel like a proud father; I’ve taught them well. Should you have those elevated?”

“Sorry?”

“Your feet. Elevation will keep down the swelling.” Tony places one of the expensive throw pillows on his lap and pats it invitingly. Peter stretches out without anymore prompting, toes flexing as his joints pop before curling in. The kid makes for an indecent picture, all long lines, absolutely nothing hidden by the leggings he wears.

“I asked them if I could meet you, you know,” Peter admits. He’s red from far more than the wine, now, judging by the way he has one hand pressed over his eyes to shield him from Tony’s gaze. As if it’s possible to. Peter peaks through his fingers. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Mr. Stark, but I’ve had a crush on you for ages.”

A crush. God. Tony doesn’t know what’s more hilarious, the sweet naivete of this boy or how it makes his cold heart flutter. Tony’s eyebrows raise. “Is that so? I’m not exactly crush material for the mentally stable.”

Peter hums. “When I was a kid, I had a lot of bullies. I started dancing when I was four years old, and not a lot of other boys understood. Sometimes, I used to daydream about you coming to protect me from them. To put them all in their place and then whisk me off to that house you gave a tour of on TV once, the one in Malibu.”

“Good taste,” Tony says. “You know, I used to do the same thing when I was young. I dreamed about someone coming to protect me and my mother, to take us both away somewhere where no one could ever hurt us.”

Sitting up on his elbows, Peter fixes Tony with a serious, solemn stare. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Is that what happened?”

“No. I became that someone. What happened to you?”

“I guess I gave up on the idea,” says Peter.

“Look. Maybe you don’t have your crush on me anymore, but I’m not the kind of man who can look away from innocent human suffering. My men told me about your boyfriend.” Peter sags back onto the couch and puts his face in his hands. He shakes his head from side to side, though no words come out. “This is my offer, kid. Let me take care of the problem. Let me be that knight in shining armor you wanted when you were younger.

#starker #cagewrites #unfinished fic #tw: abuse #ballerina!peter #mobster!tony

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starkeristheendgame · 4 years

Note

Hi! Are you still taking prompts? If yes, can you do a Starker one, where Tony is oblivious, and Peter doesn't know what to do, and ask for help to a close friend of Tony and they try to make him jealous by pretending to date and Tony is like of course he is with him he's everything i'm not and having a total breakdown and peter realize that they hurt tony instead and ask for forgivenes and end up together, pleasee? Thank you! If you aren't please just ignore this!

Against my better judgement, my prompts are never closed! Thank you so much for this super sweet/angsty prompt, Nonnie! I realised after finishing this that I never directly included Peter asking for forgiveness, but I hope this feeds you just the same! ❤

TW: Angst | Hurt/Comfort | Self-worth issues | Jealousy | Alcohol mention

SFW

Harley Keener is two years Peter’s senior and nicer than Peter could have ever imagined. When Tony had first started to talk about the ‘the first one he pseudo-adopted’ and how Harley had grown into more of a ‘mini me’ than he could’ve imagined, Peter had felt an uncomfortable twist in his gut.

What if Harley was better than him?

What if Tony liked Harley more?

What if, with Harley around, Tony didn’t want Peter around anymore?

He needn’t have worried, though. Harley wasn’t as ‘outwardly’ nerdy as he was, but he was more than happy to gush over the latest Star Wars LEGO offerings, and Tony snarked them both in equal measure. It was surprisingly like having another Ned around, and it took less than a week for Peter to feel stupid for having worried about his place besides the two of them.

Tony even joked that Harley was the ‘prototype’ and Peter was the ‘updated model’, to which Harley had just rolled his eyes, knocked Tony’s spanner off the table like a cat and gone straight back to talking to Peter about ComicCon.

They became fast friends, and Peter supposed that was somewhat why he tended to forget there was a second person in the lab with them here and there, starkly (heh) reminded of it when Harley flopped down next to him on the penthouse couch one evening and said; “so how long have you been in love with Tony?”

He could have cried. The Avengers he was around almost every other day for the past two years brushed off his doting as a hero complex and ‘mentor crush’ and it had taken Harley Keener less than three weeks to call him out on its true nature.

Naturally and mortifyingly it ended up with Peter sniffling against Harley’s shoulder, wailing about how Tony was out of his league, how every single possible thing that could was against them, and how worst of all; Tony wasn’t interested.

“He’s interested,” Harley had shrugged, gingerly plucking a tissue from the box and holding it out to him. He’d been somewhat cryptic about the basis of his statement, but had enthusiastically proposed a manner of ways in which it could be proven. And Peter…

Peter agreed to one.

He didn’t know why. He wasn’t exactly a glutton for punishment and he certainly didn’t get his kicks out of being humiliatingly, crushingly rejected, but...But Harley had said so make jealous. Tony always wants everything, and when he thinks he can’t have something he just tries harder to get it and Peter had inexplicably said yes.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, Peter didn’t quite know which) the only real, viable option was...Harley himself. None of the other Avengers would work; since they were all taken, straight and/or highly unlikely to be receptive to fake-dating a teen half (or more) their age.

Neither Ned or MJ had access to the Tower or could really be around any SHIELD, Stark or Avengers activity, and that left quite literally no-one else but Harley.

“I mean, in a way, its perfect. I’m the grandmaster of the plan anyway, and you don’t have to wordy about hurting my feelings or me falling for you. We can collaborate flawlessly to get you some Grand-Daddy dick,” Harley hummed around the stick candy in his mouth, and Peter wasn’t quite sure what part of that sentence offended him the most.

“Does literally nobody want me?” he pouted, bottom lip pushed out dramatically as he kicked Harley’s leg out of the way and picked up the PS5 controller.

“Hey, chin up, munchkin. You’re prettier than half the girls I know. I’m just not wired that way.”

“You’re straight?”

“I’m not anything. It’s like asexuality and aromantic, but both,” Harley pulled a face, clearly trying to remember the term, then shrugged. “Ah, I can never remember it. Anyway, point is, I’m not interested in anyone. You’re a little cherub, for sure, but you’re cute like a cat, not suck-my-dick cute.”

And, well. Cute like a cat? He considered that a high compliment.

Thus, Operation Get That Grand-Daddy Dick (Peter did not name it) was underway. They both agreed to keep it natural and subtle, since Tony walking in on them half-naked or all over each other was just likely to spook him off. They’d edge into it; hint that they were spending more time together, act a little cosier, maybe get caught holding hands after a week or two.

In truth, it wasn’t all that different to how they had been before, except that Harley made his smiles even softer, a little more secretive and let his gaze linger when he was sure Tony would notice. They sat and stood closer together than before, and here and there Harley would press a lingering hand to his back or arm.

They made sure when one or both left they secreted away just out of sight and took a little too long, standing close together by the elevator and making sure to hug ‘longingly’ (whatever that meant in context) should Tony happen to peek.

And yet for all his smarts, Tony didn’t seem to particularly notice anything amiss until the first time that he spotted them ‘romantically hugging’. Harley was actually a very good hugger, and they stood in front of the elevator together, with Peter facing it and Harley facing the lab. Harley had his chin over Peter’s shoulder and his hands low and tight on his waist, holding him close.

“Spotted,” Harley whispered quietly, and moments later Tony spoke up.

“Well that looks cosy.”

Tony’s voice was carefully level, no betrayal of emotion as Peter shyly disentangled himself from Harley, taking a step away as though caught doing something he shouldn’t. He didn’t have to fake the heat in his cheeks when he glanced up at where Tony stood, arms folded, and he fumbled with the strap of his backpack, glancing across at Harley before he gave Tony a meek smile.

“Um, I’ll-- I’ll see you Friday, Mr. Stark!” he chirped, shuffling around Harley and into the elevator. Tony was still staring at him as the doors began to close, and Harley turned, casting him a wink and a finger-waggling wave. Peter waved back sheepishly and the moment the doors were shut, he whipped out his phone.

[To: Thing 1] Did he look mad? It looked like he looked mad. Omg. U gotta tell me anything he says :// [19:31]

Harley did in fact text him back two hours later, though there wasn’t much to report. Tony had made a few flippant remarks that could either be parental interest or slight jealousy, and had dropped the subject after a short while in order to focus on his latest project.

Peter slumped. There was snails who had a faster moving love life than he did. With a groan, he stuffed the last of his anxiety snacks in his mouth and flopped back against his pillow to discuss the next step with Harley.

Social media was their next plan of attack. Tony followed Peter on Instagram and Twitter, and had his Snapchat even if the older man rarely used the platform, so they were going to up the pressure by hanging out outside of the lab (which they did anyway) and posting it to social media.

It was too soon to cancel plans with Tony to hang out with Harley (and frankly, Peter didn’t want to anyway) so they simply both made themselves unavailable on certain other days, or hung out together without mentioning it to Tony beforehand.

They got ice cream at the park, went to the art museum downtown, visited several different cultural/ethnic based stores and went to the arcade to kick ass at air hockey over the course of a few weeks, all while keeping up the poorly secretive touching and closeness at the lab.

And he’d still have more luck getting blood from a stone.

Tony seemed...Either completely oblivious, or just completely unphased. Whilst Peter caught him watching them here and there with an unreadable expression, Tony never directly asked them or overtly commented on what was happening. There was the odd, “enjoy the park yesterday, kid?” or “saw your post the other day, you should try this place next,” but never anything along the lines of what Peter hoped for.

Even Harley was starting to doubt his original statement that Tony was definitely interested.

Especially when Tony was the one who started cancelling plans, telling them both to ‘go enjoy themselves’ and ‘live the lives of young people’. He didn’t do it all the time, but here and there they’d both receive a text telling them not to come today. The lingering looks got longer and more weighted, but even so, Tony made no move in either aspect.

“I think I’m just gonna have to give it up,” Peter admitted to Harley one night over the phone, hanging upside down in his bedroom with the phone dangling on a web besides him.

“Maybe he’s just not ready for anything right now?” Harley suggested on the other end, between the frantic sounds of tapping buttons.

“Maybe-- Oh, hang on. I’ve got an inbound from JARVIS. It might be Avengers stuff,” Peter hummed, quickly twisting to tap on the screen to accept the incoming call from JARVIS.

“Hey, J. What’s up?” He greeted the AI, blinking at the call screen.

“Apologies for the disturbance, Mr. Parker, but protocol deems that when Mr. Stark is in distress I establish contact with someone on his emergency list in order to inform them.” The AI’s voice was as smooth and unhurried as ever, but Peter frowned at the screen.

“Distress?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker. Sir’s heart-rate is elevated and he is displaying significant symptoms of sadness, including light drinking, darkened lighting and angered viewing of your social media.”

“Angered viewing of my social media?” Peter echoed, fear ratcheting up as he dropped from the ceiling and moved to tug on a pair of shoes. Fuck, had he let something sip? Was there something in the background of his photos? Had someone figured out who he was? He was hopping towards the door on one foot when JARVIS spoke again, and he had to hop back to pull his phone down from the web.

“Why is he sad over that? Did I do something wrong?”

JARVIS was silent for a short while, as though the AI was debating on how best to respond.

“I... Believe Sir may be feeling lonely. Or unworthy of company. There have been a multitude of such instances over the past several years,” JARVIS replied after a pause, as Peter locked the web shooters around his wrist and tugged the Spiderman mask over his head to avoid any cameras, crawling out of his window and leaping out into the brisk air.

It didn’t take long to swing to the Tower, especially not when panic and concern had him pushing it, testing his muscles and leaving him slightly out of breath by the time he slipped onto the top landing console.

JARVIS directed him through to the penthouse and up the set of 12 steps that lead to the ‘upper level’ of it, to an open doorway that revealed Tony Stark sprawled out on his bed, staring blankly at his phone with a neglected, half-open bottle of whiskey loose in one arm, like a newborn babe.

“Mr. Stark?” he asked softly, and Tony’s gaze flit up to him, clearing immediately. His mentor cursed and jerked upright, almost sloshing the whole bottle over his bedding.

“Shit! Kid! Wh’r you doin’ here?” Tony’s voice was just hinting on slurred, the same easiness and lack of concentration that came when you’d had a shot too many. Or five. Peter’s heart cinched as he stared at Tony gingerly putting the bottle on the bedside table, at the redness of his eyes and the messiness of his hair where he’d been running a hand through it, over and over.

“JARVIS called me. He said you were sad,” Peter managed after a moment, hands wringing the mask between his fingers nervously. He’d never seen Tony like this, this...uncomposed. He looked haggard, tired and sad, and it made Peter feel empty and adrift, unsure of how to approach this new version of the man he loved.

“Fucking snitch,” the older man grumbled half-heartedly, and rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Shit. Don’t-- Ignore me, kid. Adults my age are entitled to a night like this once in a while. Go back home, I’m fine. Fuck, you didn’t leave Harley for this, did you?”

“Harley?” Peter parroted, brows furrowing as Tony waved a hand.

“Go on, kid. Get. Make the most of being young and pretty with someone young and pretty.” Tony reached for the bottle again and Peter found himself striding across the room, placing himself in the way of Tony’s outstretched hand and the whiskey. Tony’s fingertips brushed his stomach and recoiled like he’d been burnt by the contact.

“Mr. Stark, do you think I don’t want to hang out with you anymore?” he asked after a moment, voice fragile. God, he’d hoped to maybe make Tony a little jealous, but nothing like this. He hadn’t wanted to hurt him. And he clearly had. There was nothing but rawness in Tony’s eyes when the older man looked up at him.

“I’m not taking it personally,” his mentor attempted to joke, but it came out bitter and too flat to land lightly. Peter’s heart cinched in his chest and he shuffled to sit on the edge of the large bed, teeth on his lower lip as Tony turned away from his gaze.

“Mr. Stark, I’ve never...I’ve never not wanted to hang out with you. Even if I have other friends, too,” he pointed out tentatively, and Tony scoffed lightly.

“You’re too good for a world like this, shortstack. For someone like me. You should be trailing after someone like Captain Uptight,” Tony muttered lowly, and Peter scowled.

“You’re not less better than he is. Both of you are good people. Both of you make mistakes. Both of you save the world.”

Tony’s brows pinched, and he breathed out something that just barely sounded like then why aren’t I good enough?

Making an executive decision, Peter toed off his sneakers and crawled further up onto the bed, picking up Tony’s arm and settling down against his side, curling up under his arm and wrapping his own around Tony’s waist.

He could feel Tony’s heart thumping wildly in his chest, could feel his breath hitch and the hesitant way that Tony let his arm settle over Peter, fingers curling in his hoodie.

“You are,” he offered simply, squeezing gently. “This is my fault. I was acting like a dumb kid, and I thought... I should’ve known that it was just gonna end badly.”

“Is being my mini-me really that bad?” Tony choked out, and Peter pushed himself upright, alarmed.

“What? No! Mr. Stark, being around you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t ever ever regret being around you! I just... I have to…” He trailed off for a moment, frustrated, then prayed to Harley for forgiveness and sucked in a deep breath.

“I’m not actually dating Harley. At all. He doesn’t like people that way. Any people. We’re not boyfriends and I don’t want to stop spending time with you to spend time with him. I like spending time with you and you’re still my hero. Tony Stark or Iron Man,” he stated firmly.

Tony looked at him for a moment, then looked away.

“You should be with Harley, kid. Or someone like him. Not someone like me. Not someone with my history. I’m a shit person, kid. All this Iron Man stuff hasn’t even wiped half my scoreboard clean. Someone like Harley... He’s the better parts of me. Like you. He’s worth your love”.

Tony seemed almost startled at saying that word, twitching a little before he attempted to turn away from Peter again, gaze finding the far end of the room like he wished he was anywhere but here.

Peter fidgeted, then sucked in a deep breath. “Please don’t hate me after this,” he fumbled out quickly, then rolled half on top of the older man, hands fisting in the front of his shirt as he leaned forwards.

The kiss was awkward and clumsy and couldn’t have lasted for than two seconds before Tony pulled away, eyes wide and voice rough.

“Kid, what-- You can’t--”

“If you say you’re not interested, I’ll respect that,” Peter interrupted. “Or if you say I’m too young or whatever. But if you say anything along the lines you of not being enough, or not being worthy, or-- or-- Or whatever it is you feel you aren’t... You’re wrong. The reason me and Harley were acting like that is because I was trying to make you jealous.”

“What-”

“And I know its dumb! I don’t it was childish and I never thought it would hurt you like this. But I’ve lo-- I’ve really liked you. For years. And I know you’re a lot older and we might never be able to be...To be...Normal. I guess. But I want whatever I can get with you, because you’re worth it,” Peter barrelled on, desperate to at least be heard before Tony kicked him out. Except when he trailed off Tony was just... Staring at him.

“It’s just... Hero worship. You still think I’m some magical superhero and you--”

“No offence, Mr. Stark, but you don’t know what I think. Not when it comes to you, clearly,” Peter cut in, cheeks heating at being so brash. Prior to this he wouldn’t have ever dreamed about being so direct and forceful against Tony.

Well. Not in any PG-rated sense, anyway.

“Just... We don’t have to talk about it now, okay?” eh offered, sliding off Tony just a little so he was back up against his side, wriggling around until he could grab the faux fur throw on the bottom of the bed, pulling it up over both of them. Tony remained quiet at his side, just watching as he got them both settled.

“Just... I’m gonna stay, alright? Right here. With you. Because this is where I want to be, and its where I’m gonna stay until... Until you tell me to leave.” His lower lip threatened to wobble with mounting emotion as he lay his head on Tony’s chest, feeling the thick ridges of his scars beneath his shirt.

A moment later, Tony’s hand settled lightly over his head, fingers sliding tentatively into his hair.

“And if I never tell you to leave? If I’m selfish and never want to let you go?” the other man whispered.

“Then I guess that makes us both selfish, because that would make me happy,” Peter mumbled into his chest, wrapping his arm tighter around Tony’s waist. The room went silent for a while, save for their breathing and Tony’s heart thumping beneath his ear.

“Okay,” Tony rasped after a moment, and Peter smiled.

“Okay, Hazel Grace.”

“...What?”

“Nevermind. You’re too old for that reference.”

“You’re a little shit.”

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twokinkybeans · 3 years

Note

Hello! I absolutely love all of your stories! I have a request, can you do a Starker story where Peter and his class go on a field trip to stark tower? I don’t really mind what happens there I just really want to see the ship. If you can thanks so much 💗

THIS GOT OUT OF HAND SO HERE IS CHAPTER 1/3!

Tower Excursions - Chapter 1: Science Rules

(Read it on AO3)

Summary: Peter is 9 years old. Parents still alive. Still friends with Flash. They go on an excursion to Stark Industries, right before the events of Iron Man 2. Side note: Tony is not romantically/sexually interested in Peter until chapter 3, when they are in an established relationship. Warnings: Even though Peter and Flash are still friends in this chapter, Flash is already bullying him. Other than that, not much, tbh?

Rating: Mature (just to be sure for later on lol).

I hope you enjoy! -Lien

...

“Mister Thompson, you’re old enough to know you shouldn’t stand in a driving bus, please take a seat,” the young teacher sighs while tightening the pony tail on her head. They’re nearly at Stark Tower now, so obviously it was difficult for most students to keep their cool. They all showed it in their own way. Flash got even more talkative and jumpy, something Peter never understood. They’re best friends, have been since kindergarten, and they know each other inside and out. When excitement hit Peter, he turned more inward, like a star waiting to implode, as opposed to Flash’s bomb waiting to explode. They were opposites, yet it fit. Obviously, the school wanted to go to Stark Tower to get them interested in science and technology, something both Flash and Peter already kind of were. However, anybody who cared even the slightest, was more excited to get a glimpse of Tony Stark. Of Iron Man. The metal hero. Even though the chances were slim, they couldn’t help but bounce on the bus seats. Because, what if… The class was going to go and do some kind of interactive walk through the building’s public spaces, with one special look inside a child-friendly lab. Erica had quietly asked how they would be able to get inside a dog and Mrs. Marie had to calmly explain that a laboratory and a Labrador are two very different things. … About two hours after they arrived, they’re in the child-friendly lab. During the tour of the building, nearly everyone forgot about Tony Stark. The place itself is wonderous and gigantic. It’s filled with moving gadgets and displays of future technology. The famous Arc Reactor gets promoted on pretty much every banner they pass. The students were allowed way more than they were at Oscorp two weeks earlier. Stark Industries sure sparked the kids’ interest in science and technology, as was the goal of this trip. Most of the other students were involved in the interactive tests, but Peter had seen all of that fairly quickly. He wanted to know more about the science behind it- he didn’t just want to watch it happen. Peter was all over the place. He’s wearing his dad’s favorite “Science Rules” cap – he was allowed to borrow it for the day – and bounces from desk to desk, asking endless questions that the pedagogically trained scientists answered accordingly. Some seemed surprised by Peter’s brightness, but the young boy didn’t really notice as he was usually quickly distracted by the next shiny project someone else was working on. With a short: “Thank you, bye!” he made his way to the other scientists in the room. “Peter, check this out!” Peter rushes towards Flash, who called for him. The boy has his face pressed against a glass balustrade that looks out over four levels of open space. “What is it?” Peter asks as he mimics Flash’s pose, pressing his open palms and his nose on the surface. “Are you blind?!” Flash exclaims, nodding at the ground floor, two floors below them. Peter follows his friend’s gaze and gasps when he spots him. “Tony Stark!” Both kids immediately waddle their feet in their place, not daring to look away from the legend who is having a casual chat with a red-haired woman. Peter and Flash giggle with delight, but eventually fall silent. “We should go say hi,” Flash whispers. “We- We can go say hi!” “As if! I’m not going down there,” Peter replies, not taking his eyes off Tony. “He’s probably super busy.” Peter is startled when he notices Flash reaching out for him. The boy grabs Peter’s father’s cap from his head and swiftly tosses it over the balustrade. “Flash! No!” Peter shouts as he stands up straight to reach over the fence in an attempt to grasp the cap. When he fails, all both kids can do is watch the hat fall and fall and fall and it seems to take forever before… Thunk. Flash’s face pales and he runs off, leaving Peter – who is frozen in fear – behind. The boy is stuck, clutching the balustrade with both hands as he stares wide-eyed at how Tony Stark picks up the cap that hit his shoulder on the way down. He reads the words that are on it and then looks up, making eye contact with Peter. The boy is so caught up that he barely notices security freaking out around Tony for what happened, but the man dampens the situation by raising the cap above his head and pointing at it with his free hand, nodding up at Peter. “This yours?” … Peter took the blame. He didn’t want Flash to get in trouble and so, both he and Mrs. Marie get taken to a separate room by security. The woman chuckles nervously, certain that she screwed up for losing track of Peter, and that she’ll never be allowed back in Stark Industries. Peter just feels massive guilt for inconveniencing so many people. After a minute of scared silence, the door opens. “But, sir-“ “It’s alright.” Peter perks up at the voice he has heard on TV so much. He turns, jaw slack, as he looks up in awe at Tony Stark, wearing his cap. The man’s attention turns from the security guard to Peter. “Mister Stark, I am so sorry-“ Mrs. Marie stands up and squeezes her hands together, bowing her head in shame. “Don’t worry about it. If I didn’t want things like this to happen I wouldn’t have opened my labs to youngsters.” Something about Tony’s words seems off, like he was frustrated that she distracted him from why he was here. “You can go, I wanna talk to the boy. Alone.” “Tha- sir, that’s highly unorthodox-“ Mrs. Marie protests, but one stern look has her press her lips together. “Just wanna talk about the cap.” Tony shows a tight smile and gestures at the door. “Besides, I believe you still have three hours left to keep an eye on your other students during this excursion.” Mrs. Marie rushes out after quickly thanking Tony for not being in trouble. He leaves the door open and sits down in the desk chair opposite Peter. “Richard Parker?” Tony says casually as he places his feet on top of the desk and cocking his head. He takes off the cap and shows the little label with the handwritten name inside of it. “Tha- ehm…” Peter stutters. “My dad,” he pushes out quickly. “Huh,” Tony says with a curt nod, turning the cap to look at the front again. “Smart guy. Had a couple chats with him a while back.” Peter’s eyes widen in shock. “You know my dad?” “I mean, he’s not in my phone’s contact list, but we’ve had some talks at conventions before.” Tony puts his feet down and leans forward. His elbows rest on the desk. Peter frowns slightly when he sees some dark lines in Tony’s neck. Are those his veins? “Which has me wonder if you’re bright as he is.” “I’m nine,” Peter retorts without thinking. Tony snorts surprised and can’t help a chuckle. “You sure are.” The man seems to ponder for a bit and then he tosses the cap on the desk. “Tell you what, kid.” Peter swallows, scared that this is the hour of reckoning. As much as Tony doesn’t seem angry, Peter is still afraid that he will get punished for what happened. “You get to ask me one question.” The boy frowns again, so Tony quickly continues. “If it’s a good one, you get your cap back and you can go.” Peter opens his mouth, immediately knowing what to say, but Tony raises his index finger, stopping the kid from talking with just a gesture. “If it’s a great one, I’ll give you a tour of the place myself.” Peter immediately wants to ask what the difference between a good and a great question is, but realizes that would be an immediate throwaway of the one question he is allowed to ask. The stakes are high, he can’t screw this up. He licks his lips and takes a breath. His head bows down to look at his fiddling fingers and then back up, noticing the faint glow coming through Tony’s dress shirt. “I read somewhere that the arc reactor uses cool fusion to regulate temperature…” Tony’s eyebrows shoot up surprised. “But I- when we went to Oscorp two weeks ago, we talked about nuclear energy and there someone said the most ideal element to use for cool fusion is palladium.” Peter swallows. “If that is in your body… How do you keep it from poisoning you?” The man’s jaw tightens and his expression sterns. “Still working on that,” he mumbles, nearly quiet enough for it to go past Peter. Peter blinks. Once. Twice. Did he just ask a question even Tony Stark himself has no answer to? No sound is made for a full minute. Peter can hear his heartbeat thump between his ears, though his breathing is slow. “How old did you say you are?” Utter disbelief seeps from Tony’s words. “Nine, sir.” “Jesus Christ.” “Does that mean it was a great question?” This time, it’s Tony who blinks. Once. Twice. “Yes, kid.”

#starker #(though not yet)#peter parker #tony stark #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #AO3 fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #kinkybeanlienwrites #iron man #ironman #spiderman #spider-man

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

Teacher AU + Established Relationship with WinterIron?

Every single year, there was one notable relationship that caused multiple news articles to be written, memes to be created, and eyes to roll, and that was the rivalry of one Tony Carbonell and Bucky Barnes.

It had started when Tony had transferred from a fancy school to theirs, and had surprised everyone by being outlandishly funny, refusing to follow any sort of rule that he didn’t like, and annoying the hell out of Mr. Barnes.

This included:

Stealing all of Mr. Barnes’ good Expo markers and replacing them all with only yellow ones.

Waiting until Mr. Barnes left and completely switching their classrooms around, leading to a week of confusion and desks to run into.

Moving Mr. Barnes’ desk an inch a week, until it was nearly at the front, and Mr. Barnes didn’t notice because he’s the most unobservant man you will ever see before coffee.

Rating Mr. Barnes’ gym outfits on a scoring system of one through ten, and it is likely Highly Inappropriate but everyone finds it hilarious when Tony gives an interview to the student news crew about why some outfits received low scores.

It was a rivalry, from the way that Mr. Barnes would yell “Tony!” after finding something in his office to the way that Tony would hang off of his shoulders, saying “well honestly darling, you do love me, don’t you?”

Some students are convinced that they would actually make a remarkable couple, and in fact, it is the goal of a group of seniors.

MJ Watson, Peter Parker, Harley Keener, Ned Leeds, and Betty Brant are all quite convinced that Mr. Carbonell and Mr. Barnes just need a relationship.

Well really, exclude MJ. She’s just there for the entertainment of it.

It’s senior year, which means they have a limited time window to get their plans to fruition. They will also need help of teachers, maybe.

“No, they might report us for misconduct,” Betty says with a frown. “Plus, what if they find our attempts entertaining and tell them?”

“You are the smartest person I know,” Ned says, grinning. “You’re incredible.”

“Can you. Maybe. Stop being so sappy on main?” Harley asks. “But fine, no teachers. What’s our first plan of attack? I vote for a lock-in at the gym office. I have it with Peter third period, I say I need to get something and go back and lock them in.”

“Sounds good,” Peter says. “But what happens if they just fight?”

“They won’t,” Harley says. “It would be unprofessional.”

They do not count on Mr. Barnes knowing how to kick down a door.

“How do you know how to do that?” Peter asks, awe in his voice.

“Classified,” Mr. Barnes answers. “Now, I don’t know who did that…” There’s a direct look to Harley, but nothing else, “but do not try to lock me into my own office or anyone else’s. There’s only so much you can do if you don’t like me.”

“What, feeling bad that you got trapped with me?” Mr. Carbonell asks, batting his eyelashes. “You could’ve just said you wanted a more secluded place, darling.”

“Not in front of the kids,” Mr. Barnes says roughly, but fondly smiling.

Fondly.

Peter writes that in his notebook. Betty and MJ will most definitely want to know this.

The next plan also fails, unfortunately.

Ned has the idea of having them volunteer on a senior trip, because they would be the best chaperones possible.

At least, until they both gang up on the group and yell at them for trying to dump Flash in the lake.

“What are you, crazy?” Mr. Barnes yells. “He could’ve been seriously hurt!”

“He would’ve been fine,” Ned whispers.

Mr. Carbonell is trying very hard to quell the situation, and utters the one thing that he never utters:

“James, enough,” he says sternly. Expression devoid of any joy or amusement. “They know better, and now we just need to focus on finding some extra clothes for Thompson here. Let’s go.”

There’s silence for a moment until MJ looks up from her most recent read.

“Your first name isn’t Bucky?”

That diffuses at least some of the tension, and Ned shoots Harley a look.

There’s more to this that they don’t know about.

There is a break where they do not attempt anything, and this directly is because of break coming up.

The year still goes on, with many botched attempt.

Then it’s their last chance: The End of the Year Senior Treat.

Their school throws it every year, and Mr. Barnes and Mr. Carbonell go every single year. No one knows what happens besides maybe a water slide and dinner is provided.

“This is our last shot,” Peter says. “It’s either that or we visit after graduation, and I’m not dedicating myself to that.”

“So what’s our plan?”

“We be honest,” Peter says.

“That’s the worst plan in the history of plans,” Betty says. “Who the hell wants anyone to be honest?”

“It’s not like we’re running a political campaign, it’ll be fine,” Harley responds. “Now, let’s plan.”

They don’t need a plan. They have one, but they don’t need it.

Because at the very last day, it is revealed that a.) the two teachers are married.

b.) It’s to each other.

“What?” Peter says. “How? Why? When?”

“Slow down, you might choke on air,” Mr. Barnes says. “Is it really so surprising?”

“Yes,” MJ says, not even looking up. “You always have an exasperated look on your face.”

“It was to keep himself from laughing,” Mr. Carbonell says, grinning. “This guy is a soft teddy bear.”

“I wouldn’t call an ex-Special Forces man a teddy bear,” Harley says, raising an eyebrow. “So why not just tell people?”

“It’s the best way to surprise the seniors,” Mr. Barnes answers. “Plus, we enjoy the antics of you guys this year. Nice touch on the interviews, Betty.”

She goes scarlet.

In retrospect, they can see it. The way that Mr. Barnes never really scolded Mr. Carbonell for anything, the way that they would always be in each other’s spaces at any school event.

They also drove together to school unless Mr. Barnes brought his motorcycle.

“It was in front of us the whole time,” Ned says, eyes wide. “Oh my god.”

Peter looks towards Mr. Carbonell and Mr. Barnes at graduation, who are talking to someone’s relatives. He smiles.

“Who wants to bet that next year’s seniors will have a plan like ours?”

#mj watson #peter parker #betty brant #ned leeds #bucky barnes #winteriron #tony stark #well more like tony carbonell but does that matter?#harley keener #tony is a little Shit #luckily his husband adores him #lovelyirony writes #high school teacher au #teacher au

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spidercakes · 4 years

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Have a high school ABO AU featuring Tony as heir to the mob boss throne because I feel like throwing like... every trope together lol. Also he’s got Maria’s last name because Howard is cancelled and I refuse to interact.

The first time he sees Peter Tony knows he's new. This school is exclusive and most people who go here have known each other forever in and out of school. So new people are rare, last one was that skinny girl who’s actually really good at math and has a weird thing for drawing people in detention and that was last year. He assumes she’s on some type of scholarship and that’s probably the same for the new guy.

“Who’s that?” he asks, drawing attention away from Hope and Natasha arguing over the easiest way to kill someone with a pushpin. Rhodey looks mildly relieved at the change in subject and Pepper looks bored but that’s not unusual.

“Peter Parker,” Natasha says, unsurprisingly the one with the information. “Scholarship, actually really smart and cute too, if you like that kind of thing.”

Tony looks him over, noting that he’s managed to alter his uniform slightly to fit his lithe frame better and yeah, he definitely likes that kind of thing.

Peter knows right away that its unusual for Tony Carbonell to take an interest in people because people keep staring at him about it. He also figures out pretty much right away that Tony is used to getting what he wants so it surprises him when Peter turns him down. It also seems to surprise everyone else- freaks them out too and he doesn’t get it because Tony is actually really nice so he doesn’t really get why people seem to fear him.

“You know who that is, right?” someone asks, sitting beside him and Peter knows her name, he knows he does but its not coming to mind right now... “MJ,” she says, picking up on his thoughts. “And you’re Peter Parker, the adorable little omega who was either brave enough or stupid enough to turn down Tony Carbonell.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?” he asks, figuring maybe she might have information as to why people keep looking at him like that.

She snorts, “what, have you never heard of the Carbonells? Clearly you’re not from New York,” she says and oh.

Oh.

MJ snorts and starts laughing, “oh man, you didn’t even realize I’m so excited that I won this bet,” she says, shaking her head.

“Bet?” Peter asks, frowning.

“Yeah. van Dyne thought you were just dumb but I figured you either didn’t know or didn’t make the connection. Guess I won.”

Didn’t make- yeah, no shit he didn’t make the connection between Tony and the fucking mob just because the guy is Italian doesn’t mean he’s in a damn mob but apparently this time he lives up to stereotypes. “He didn’t take it that badly,” Peter points out.

“Yeah, because you didn’t mean it. Playing hard to get, probably smart when Tony gets whatever he asks for. The or else is usually implied.”

So he’s noticed. “He doesn’t seem the type to be um... well, useful in a mob,” he says, wincing a little. He’s too nice is what he means.

MJ shakes her head, “oh, he’s got a mean streak a mile wide its just that he saves it for people he hates or people who’ve crossed him. Doesn’t much waste abusing his power on little shit but you don’t want to be on his bad side, trust me.”

He looks over to Tony, who’s sitting across the library talking animatedly with Rhodey about something and Peter is willing to bet they’re arguing about some Star Wars fan theory they disagree on. Its been their topic of choice for the last week or so since they both decided the other interpreted things all wrong. Tony spots him looking and grins, confidence high on his features and Peter has to admit that that’s attractive but it comes with the problem of a little arrogance. He’s used to getting what he wants and he’s got a reputation that Peter isn’t ignorant to either. He’s not about to be used and tossed aside by some pretty rich alpha just because Tony is accustomed to things going in his favor.

“What else do you know about him?” Peter asks.

Peter allows Tony to press him into the wall, hands at his waist as he kisses Peter softly. He settles his arms around Tony’s shoulder’s lightly as Tony kisses him soft and sweet. He’s clearly practiced at it too, knowing just how to tease Peter right.

He does pull away after a few moments though, earning a soft noise of disapproval from Tony about it. “Baby,” Tony murmurs, trying to pull him back in but Peter only half allows it.

“This is nice, but you’re not really my... type,” he says, waving a hand a little.

Tony looks baffled and its kind of funny. “Not your type? I’m everyone’s type,” he says.

Yeah, he kind of is but that’s not the point here. “Mm, yeah you’re cute but I don’t really do playboy types,” he says, shrugging. He goes to extract himself from Tony’s grasp but Tony pulls him back so his back is flush to Tony’s chest. He leans in and noses at Peter’s neck, which might piss him off if not for the fact that he genuinely has an interest in Tony. He whimpers a little, tilting his head to the side to give Tony better access as he kisses Peter’s neck softly.

“I can do commitment,” he murmurs, hands on his hips tightening a little as Peter gasps, back arching as Tony’s teeth graze over a sensitive spot. One of Tony’s hands slips lower, teasing at the edge of his skirt before he curls his hand around Peter’s leg, running it up the inside of his thigh.

He whimpers again, panting a little and Tony laughs softly. “Come to my room?” he asks and Peter nods.

Yeah, he knows everyone is surprised because the whole school seems to be confused with Tony’s sudden enamored nature when it comes to him. Peter’s surprised about it too, kind of thought Tony would ignore him after they slept together and honestly he’s dumb to have fell for that to begin with. But Tony didn’t toss him aside- instead he basically attached himself to Peter’s hip.

He’s perched next to Tony at the table in the cafeteria, his arm around Peter’s waist as he glares at someone from across the way. The poor bastard goes pale and looks in literally any other direction because MJ hadn’t been kidding about Tony’s mean streak. Peter sighs and settles a hand on Tony’s thigh, “calm down, baby,” he murmurs.

Tony doesn’t say anything about it though, just pulls him closer like that’ll further establish their relationship. Peter’s pretty sure Tony’s territorial nature and the sheer amount hickies he’s had a hard time covering up probably did that for him. “Should come home with me over winter break, meet my mom,” he says and Rhodey’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. Pepper looks more composed, if only barely given that she looks shocked too as her salad falls off her fork.

MJ grins at him from across the table, nodding her head at him like he’s accomplished something impressive. “Maybe, depends on how my family stuff goes,” he tells Tony, playing aloof because apparently that’s all it took to get his attention and Peter kind of likes playing hard to get. He likes that he can act a little disinterested and Tony will fall over himself trying to get his attention, its a weird brand of power that he finds fun to toy with.

“You want him to meet your mother?” Rhodey asks, shocked.

“You’ve met her too, platypus, no need to be jealous,” Tony quips and Peter snorts, covering his mouth as he laughs.

Rhodey rolls his eyes, “yeah, but we aren’t dating. Contrary to what Maria thought.”

Tony grins, “she never actually thought we were dating, she just liked you enough to try and encourage it. Clearly didn’t work. She’ll love you though,” he tells Peter, brown eyes warm with affection and something akin to love that makes Peter’s heart melt a little.

“Mhm, I’ll let you know if I can make it,” he tells Tony, delighting in the way Tony immediately tries to sweeten the deal just to bring him a little closer. Maybe MJ hadn’t been wrong about dating someone who has mob connections being a pretty sweet perk.

#tony stark x peter parker #starker #alternate universe #fanfiction #abo fanfic

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thisblogmovedfindmeifyoucan · 3 years

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Bio for Hero Verse:

Anthony Edward "Tony" Stark was born on May 29, 1975, in Manhattan, New York to Howard Stark, a famous genius inventor and businessman, and Maria Stark, a New York socialite and philanthropist. Growing up under the eye of family butler Edwin Jarvis, his life was characterized by a cold and affectionless relationship with his father. Seeing that his son could achieve great things, Howard tried to inspire him with constant talks about his own role in the creation of Captain America.

This instead embittered Stark, who felt that his father was taking more pride in his creations than in his family. A brilliant and unique child prodigy, Stark attended MIT for two years starting at age 14, graduating at the age of 16.On December 16, 1995, when Stark was 20, his parents went away to the Bahamas, but planned to stop at the Pentagon to deliver Super Soldier Serum he had redeveloped.

On their way there, both were killed in a car accident—later revealed to be an assassination carried out by the Winter Soldier who was mind controlled by Hydra to steal the serum. As a result, Stark inherited his father's company, becoming CEO of Stark Industries. Over the years, he became well known as a weapons designer and inventor.

In 2010, Stark travels to war-torn Afghanistan with his friend and military liaison Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes to demonstrate Stark's new "Jericho" missile. After the demonstration, the convoy is ambushed and Stark is critically wounded and imprisoned by a terrorist group, the Ten Rings. Fellow captive Ho Yinsen, a doctor, implants an electromagnet into Stark's chest to keep shrapnel shards from reaching his heart and killing him.

Stark and Yinsen secretly build a small, powerful electric generator called an arc reactor to power Stark's electromagnet and a suit of powered armor. When the Ten Rings attack the workshop, Yinsen sacrifices himself to divert them while the suit is completed. The armored Stark battles his way out of the cave to find the dying Yinsen, then burns the Ten Rings' weapons in anger and flies away, crashing in the desert. Rescued by Rhodes, Stark returns home to announce that his company will no longer manufacture weapons. In his home workshop, Stark builds a sleeker, more powerful version of his improvised armor suit as well as a more powerful arc reactor.

Stark learns that Obadiah Stane has been arms trafficking to criminals worldwide, and is staging a coup to replace him as Stark Industries' CEO. Stark, in his new armor, flies to Afghanistan and saves the villagers. Stane ambushes Stark at his home and takes the arc reactor from his chest, revealing that Stane was responsible for Stark's captivity. Stark manages to get to his original reactor to replace it and defeats Stane. The next day, at a press conference, Stark publicly admits to being "Iron Man."

Six months later in 2011, Stark has become a superstar and uses his Iron Man suit for peaceful means, resisting government pressure to sell his designs. He reinstitutes the Stark Expo to continue his father's legacy, but discovers that the palladium core in the arc reactor that keeps Stark alive and powers the armor is slowly poisoning him.

Stark competes in the Monaco Historic Grand Prix and is attacked mid-race by Ivan Vanko, who wields electrified whips powered by a miniature arc reactor. Stark dons his Mark V armor and defeats Vanko, but the suit is severely damaged. At his birthday party, Stark gets drunk while wearing the Mark IV suit. Rhodes dons Stark's Mark II prototype armor and tries to restrain him. The fight ends in a stalemate, so Rhodes confiscates the Mark II for the U.S. Air Force.

Stark discovers a hidden message from his father, a diagram of the structure of a new element, which Stark synthesizes. At the Expo, Stark's rival Justin Hammer unveils Vanko's armored drones he had him make, led by Rhodes in a heavily weaponized version of the Mark II armor. Stark arrives in the Mark VI armor to warn Rhodes, but Vanko remotely takes control of both the drones and Rhodes' armor and attacks Iron Man. Stark and Rhodes together defeat Vanko and his drones.

In 2012, when the Asgardian Loki arrives and begins menacing Earth, seizing the Tesseract from a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, Fury activates the Avengers Initiative and S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Phil Coulson visits Stark to have him review the research of Erik Selvig on the Tesseract. In Stuttgart, Steve Rogers and Loki fight briefly until Tony Stark appears in his Iron Man armor, resulting in Loki's surrender. While Loki is being escorted to S.H.I.E.L.D., Thor arrives and frees him, hoping to convince him to abandon his plan and return to Asgard. After a confrontation with Stark and Rogers, Thor agrees to take Loki to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s flying aircraft carrier, the Helicarrier.

The Avengers become divided, both over how to approach Loki and the revelation that S.H.I.E.L.D. plans to harness the Tesseract to develop weapons. Agents possessed by Loki attack the Helicarrier, disabling one of its engines in flight, which Stark and Rogers must work to restart. Loki escapes, and Stark and Rogers realize that for Loki, simply defeating them will not be enough; he needs to overpower them publicly to validate himself as ruler of Earth. Loki uses the Tesseract to open a wormhole in New York City above the Avengers Tower to allow the Chitauri fleet in space to invade.

Fury's superiors from the World Security Council attempt to end the invasion by launching a nuclear missile at Midtown Manhattan. Stark intercepts the missile, and in an apparent sacrifice of his own life, takes it through the wormhole toward the Chitauri fleet. The missile detonates, destroying the Chitauri mothership and disabling their forces on Earth. Stark's suit runs out of power, and he falls back through the wormhole but the Hulk saves him from crashing into the ground.

Several years later, Stark and the Avengers raid a Hydra facility commanded by Baron Wolfgang von Strucker, who has been experimenting on siblings Pietro and Wanda Maximoff using the scepter previously wielded by Loki. While the team fights outside, Stark enters the lab and finds the scepter, along with Chitauri ships from the Battle of New York and androids under construction. Wanda sneaks up behind him and uses her mind manipulation powers to give him a haunting vision: the death of all the Avengers except him. Stark awakens from the vision and grabs Loki's scepter.

Returning to Stark Tower, Stark and Bruce Banner discover an artificial intelligence within the scepter's gem, and secretly decide to use it to complete Stark's "Ultron" global defense program. The unexpectedly sentient Ultron eliminates Stark's A.I. J.A.R.V.I.S. and attacks the Avengers at Stark Tower. Escaping with the scepter, Ultron builds an army of robot drones, kills Strucker and recruits the Maximoffs, who hold Stark responsible for their parents' deaths by his company's weapons. The Avengers find and attack Ultron, but Wanda subdues most of the team with personalized, disturbing visions, causing Banner to transform into the Hulk and rampage until Stark stops him with his anti-Hulk armor.

After hiding at Clint Barton's house, Nick Fury arrives and encourages Stark and the others to form a plan to stop Ultron, who is discovered to have forced the team's friend Dr. Helen Cho to perfect a new body for him. Rogers, Romanoff, and Barton find Ultron and retrieve the synthetic body, but Ultron captures Romanoff. Returning to their headquarters in New York, the Avengers fight amongst themselves when Stark and Banner secretly upload J.A.R.V.I.S.—who is still operational after hiding from Ultron inside the Internet—into the synthetic body. Thor returns to help activate the body, explaining that the gem on its brow was part of his vision.

This "Vision" and the Maximoffs, now on their side, accompany Stark and the Avengers to Sokovia, where Ultron has used the remaining vibranium to build a machine to lift part of the capital city skyward, intending to crash it into the ground to cause global extinction. One of Ultron's drones is able to activate the machine. The city plummets, but Stark and Thor overload the machine and shatter the landmass. The Avengers establish a new base, and Stark leaves the team in the hands of Rogers and Romanoff.

Besides his age this is Where Canon Starts to Diverge:

In 2016, U.S. Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross informs the Avengers that the United Nations (UN) is preparing to pass the Sokovia Accords, which will establish UN oversight of the team. The Avengers are divided: Stark supports oversight because of his role in Ultron's creation and Sokovia's devastation, while Rogers has more faith in his own judgment than that of a government. Circumstances lead to Rogers and fellow super-soldier Bucky Barnes—framed for a terrorist attack—going rogue, along with Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, and Scott Lang. Stark assembles a team composed of Romanoff, T'Challa, Rhodes, Vision, and Peter Parker to capture the renegades at Leipzig/Halle Airport.

So up until the battle, Tony thinks that the Accords are a good idea except that he doesn’t treat Wanda as bad as she’s treated in the movies. She will be in Avengers compound but she’s kept there to train and he will try to find someone to help her learn to control her powers.

When they go to Germany, Tony actually listens to Steve but there is still a fight that ensues. When Rhodey falls from the sky and is injured, Tony calls the entire thing off. He goes with Steve and Bucky to the compound with the other Super soldiers but when he finds out about what happened, he’s very angry but doesn’t attack Bucky and Steve. This takes away the rift that is there between the three men. Tony does help Clint and Sam and although they must stay on the run, Tony supplies them resources and doesn’t let Ross know where they are.

In 2018, Stark and Potts are in a New York City park changes that are going to be made to move the business in another direction when Banner, who had disappeared after the Battle of Sokovia, crash-lands at the Sanctum Sanctorum. Banner relays a warning to Stephen Strange, Wong, and Stark that the mad Titan Thanos plans to use the Infinity Stones to kill half of all life in the universe. Ebony Maw and Cull Obsidian arrive to retrieve the Time Stone, prompting Strange, Stark, Wong, and Parker to confront them. Although Cull Obsidian is incapacitated and thrown into Antarctica, Strange is captured by Maw. Stark and Parker sneak aboard Maw's spaceship to rescue him.

After successfully freeing Strange and killing Maw, the trio proceed to Thanos’ home planet Titan, where they meet members of the Guardians of the Galaxy. They form a plan to confront Thanos and remove the Infinity Gauntlet, but Thanos overpowers the group and stabs Stark. Strange surrenders the Time Stone in exchange for Thanos sparing Stark. Thanos takes the stone and departs Titan for Earth, retrieves the final stone, and activates the Infinity Gauntlet. Stark and Nebula, stranded on Titan, watch as Parker and others are turned to dust.

For the end battle, Tony will take the gauntet but instead of him dying, his right arm is destroyed and he will use the same nanotech that is hooked to his chest to create an arm for him to use. Also at the end of the battle, Tony 45 years old will remain as Ironman until he can train someone as his replacement. Also in the five years of the Blip, Pepper and Tony have a one night stand and she gets pregnant with Morgan. @mhstark3000 . With this, they are not married and aren’t even dating. He will be in Morgan’s life though and Pepper and Tony do an amazing job co-parenting, especially once her retires from being Ironman.

During the time of Wanda Vison and TFATWS, he is retired from being an Avenger but will pick it up if he’s needed. Also he’s been working inventions and his own thing.

#about tony

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regrettablewritings · 4 years

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Preferences: Guilty Pleasures

Characters: Okoye, Lucifer Morningstar, Dewey Finn, Peter B. Parker, Ahkmenrah

Okoye

Okoye is straightforward and stony upon first impressions. And, admittedly, even afterward. The only real difference is that, if one gets to know her better, they might find shock in the fact that in spite of her appearance, she Dora leader actually likes sweets. However, it’s not sweet things in general that Okoye feels guilty for enjoying: It’s Starbucks.

Starbucks is the antithesis of everything Okoye is associated with: Supremely un-Wakandan, a chain establishment, and overall just not worth the absurd cost. Not to mention superbly unhealthy when compared to the rest of a fighter’s typical diet. But yet you can bet that every time she needs to go out of the country or off-continent, there’s an invasive shout for joy at the possibility that she might be able to get her hands on a Frappucino (followed by an internal scolding).

She can’t even explain exactly why she likes it; there are plenty of good, even healthier sweet things back in Wakanda -- heck, back anywhere else!

But it’s a bit like when someone craves the cheap taste of school pizza over a legit pie cooked in a stone hearth: She just loves the sugary sweetness, the application of whipped cream to an already tooth-rottingly saccharine icy drink, the addition of chocolate. But Bast, she also hates it. But ever since T’Challa practically shoved a grande cup of caramel frappucino into her hands, she hasn’t felt entirely the same.

Against her better judgement, she’s more or less unintentionally tried 45% of the menu drink-wise. She doesn’t particularly care much for the food part of the establishment, though if she should ever find herself in one during the fall, she might indulge in a chunky slice of pumpkin bread under the conviction that it’s healthy enough for being gourd-related. Never mind that it’s just a cinnamon mixture with more sugar than actual pumpkin-derived anything.

Really, of all those mentioned on this list, Okoye is the one who probably feels the most disappointed in herself whenever she indulges in her guilty pleasure: It’s a betrayal to her patriotism, to her dignity, and to her attempts to eat healthy. But damn, if this type of betrayal doesn’t taste so addicting . . .

Lucifer Morningstar

The thing about Lucifer is that it’s actually a bit hard for him to feel any regrets over liking anything; he’s the Devil, after all, so his whole thing is about embracing the things that make you feel good. And even besides that, he’s mostly managed to skate by in his time on Earth by categorizing things as Stuff He Likes, Stuff He Tolerates, Stuff He Doesn’t Bother With, and Stuff Humans Seem to Enjoy But He Doesn’t Quite Get. It’s a tad restricted of a system but you can’t argue with results.

However, just because something is difficult doesn’t mean that it’s impossible. The Devil can, in fact, recognize absurdity in liking certain things. Hence why, to a point, he’s fallen prey to his own bizarre pleasures: The Devil has guilty pleasures, and it’s in stupid YouTube videos, Vine, and TikTok.

After he finally drank the Kool-Aid and got himself a smart phone, it was only a matter of time before Lucifer fell down the rabbit hole that is YouTube prank videos and strange uploads about nonsense and animal humor. It was also only a matter of time before he found himself stumbling into Vine compilations. The Celestial is terrifically mystified by the creative power of humans, managing to tell entire stories and peak comedy in only a span of seven seconds. But he’s also quite loathe to have realized it’s been long defunct by the time he’s discovered it.

He’s even more loathe to find himself making references in his daily life: He has actually quietly blurted out, “I sure hope it does” in response to seeing a Road Work Ahead sign, causing Chloe some confusion (and Lucifer lots of embarrassment). He has referred to a culprit as “Jared, Age 19″. Since discovering Vine, there has been at least one night wherein he and a bed mate were sitting there with barbecue sauce on his tiddies, but that was by sheer coincidence.

But eventually the Vine compilation well dried up, and the inevitable transfer over to TikTok happened. And Luci honestly doesn’t know what to make of TikTok. He would describe it as Vine’s Molly-addicted cousin based on its obsession with dancing, but the dances are so stationary that even that doesn’t seem quite right. The videos on the platform are also much more . . . bizarre. And some of them admittedly trigger a fight-or-flight response in him, to which he always chooses the third option of freezing if only so he can keep watching the train wreck unfold before his eyes.

The trouble with TikTok, he’ll admit to himself, is that it’s not as easy to find iconic content the same way he could with Vine. However, this isn’t to say that he hasn’t found anything worth watching over and over and over again . . .

(Let’s just say the “Wolf Pack Compilation” lives in his head rent-free, and he’s both too amused by it and too overwhelmed by its vibe to try and evict it.)

Dewey Finn

Dewey is . . . a special case. Given that he associates messy living and indulging in one’s pleasure a part of the rocker lifestyle, he’s generally quick to embrace whatever makes him happy. He’s very upfront about his interests and is arguably almost incapable of feeling shame. But it’s in there: Deep down. No, not in himself -- in his Spotify. Specifically, a Spotify account made on an email he never uses because it was made specifically to create this separate, uber secret playlist.

One marked “Actual Musical Bops.”

Dewey hates musicals: They’re cheesy, uninspired, gaudy, ridiculous, totally aimed at chicks with weird fantasies that he could never aspire to, and the music is just overall unimpressive. And yet, somehow, against his music elitist nature, a handful have managed to slip through the cracks. At the very least, a handful of numbers have clawed their way past his defenses and into his ear, where they now live rent-free.

In spite of his best efforts, the problems are that he’s a New Yorker, so it’s inevitable that he hears a song or two; and also that, as an instructor (to wealthy New York tweens whose families can afford frequent tripes to the Great White Way, no less), he’s definitely going to wind up hearing about some shows and their stand-out numbers: Against his will, he knows the lyrics to “My Shot”; he has cried in the secrecy of his apartment to “When I Grow Up”; in the never-necessary reason he needs to remember how many minutes there are in a year, he sings it inside his head; hell, he’s even found himself trying to figure out the electric guitar riff from “The Phantom of the Opera” during his down time.

What’s all the more embarrassing is that, given how he presents himself as a music elitist, there’s just no way he can come back from this if anyone were to know. He has to catch himself when he finds himself humming “Johanna” in the teacher’s lounge. He scowls at himself when he can’t sleep and gives in and starts playing “No One is Alone.” He wants to kick his thick ass every time he realizes he’s excited to have stumbled across a “slime tutorial” on YouTube, this one with better quality than the last. The reason he actually put a password on his phone wasn’t out of privacy like a sensible person would, but out of a need to make sure that no one ever found out that he had downloaded the entire Beetlejuice soundtrack, including jankily-recorded songs that never made it to the official cast recording for whatever reason!

And should anyone ever find out about any of this, Dewey has a plan: “Oh, I’m doing research. I’m studying these songs so I can give the kids a lesson on what not to do as actually competent musicians.”

But the lesson would never actually come. Mainly because he keeps prolonging his “research” . . .

He’s also developed a bit of a soft spot for My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic due to some students gushing about it, but he would rather sooner die than ever be associated with the term “brony.”

Peter B. Parker

Peter is at a point where he’s too tired to really care about the idea of guilty pleasures. The way he sees it, there are bigger priorities at stake than worrying about someone finding out about your love of some hokey activity or food or form of entertainment.

Besides, he’s a New Yorker: There’s way weirder stuff for people to just not pay any real attention to. Hence why he thinks nothing of his bizarre eating habits. And no, this isn’t referring to his disastrous appetite: This is about his tendency to eat food with his hands. Foods that, well, he really should probably utilize eating utensils for.

To be fair, this habit has always existed in him in some form or another, especially since, as Spider-Man, he often needs to eat food on the go. But during the time he spent living the life of a depressed bachelor, it came out in full force. On the rare occasion he wasn’t eating a food that deserved to be eaten by hand, he often found himself loathing the idea of doing the dishes afterward. There would be days he’d feel only slightly less depressed; enough to make a box of Kraft Mac n Cheese in the pot, but not enough to avoid cutting out the middle man.

He’s thankful the craptastic apartment wasn’t also see-through because if it were, he’s positive his neighbors would’ve thought they were bearing witness to a man’s breakdown as he wept into a pot of macaroni and cheese, his hand full of the stuff, while wearing a Spider-Man costume. (And, to be fair, they actually would be.)

In addition to this, there were also those nights where he would be prepared to actually tuck in to a plate of spaghetti, only for some crime going on elsewhere in the city to drag him away. By the time he’d return, the plate would’ve been cold and his energy too depleted to want to even dream about cleaning more than he already had to.

The great news is that he’s thankfully done a 180, now able and willing (if begrudgingly) to clean up after himself. But bad news is that this feral man will still eat a fully-loaded baked potato like an apple. In a park. In front of women and children. He’s just too tired to care anymore. He’s aware of the guilt in this as a concept, but he’s also aware that he needs to take whatever happiness he can get out of whatever he does. And if that means eating everything by hand, then so be it!

Ahkmenrah

Funnily enough, Ahkmenrah doesn’t seem to experience much of any shame for enjoying the things most might feel the need to hide: He’s constantly curious and has missed out on a lot over the centuries, so why should he feel bad for wanting to indulge in them? Celebrity gossip is just a more fun version of the palace gossip he’d grown up hearing as a boy; reality TV is like watching a play, but with much more fights, less deaths, and more faulty romances; and sloppy meatball subs are like a feast for a man of his time!

Besides, he’s a king: Kings shouldn’t have to feel embarrassment over what the common folk might think.

And yet . . . It took some time, but eventually Ahkmenrah did experience it: Guilt in his pleasures.

He couldn’t even recall where it had all started. Maybe he was searching for more content to swallow after the most recent season of his new favorite show had ended? Whatever the case, he wound up biting off more than he could chew when he stumbled upon . . . fanfiction.

The adorable yet sad thing is that he didn’t even think anything of it at first. It wasn’t until he brought up a ship he’d invested his last few nights awake exploring on the computer: Nobody knew what the crap he was talking about, so of course he felt the need to explain it. But the more he talked, the more perplexed his friends looked. And the more he could feel his cheeks and ears burn.

Oh, he thought. Is this . . . embarrassment? Is that what this feels like? Oh, this is just foul.

Thankfully, nobody pressured him to keep talking about it, but the poor king sure as heck didn’t feel much of a desire to talk any further about it. But he needed to talk to somebody about his newly acquired “feels” as those online were calling them.

Joining fanfiction-oriented sites was the next obvious step, of course, but he’s experienced mixed feelings about it: On one hand, it’s nice to talk with people who share similar views and excitement about a fictional couple. But on the other, the digital wars that have broken out both disturb him and bring out the worst in him.

Like, of course there are bigger things to deal with than whether or not So-So is better off with Him-Ham, but if you truly think that Blah-Blah and Himhaw are a healthy relationship, then you can go do a service and bury yourself in the desert sands to provide substance to the hungry beetles with your flesh --

Suffice to say, a lot of the guilt in this pleasure seems to come from the fact that Ahk can get a little too emotionally invested if the work is really good. He tries to limit his interactions to commenting and praising certain works, and encouraging content creators. However, he’s also contemplated contributing his own pieces of fiction to the fandom . . .

#okoye #lucifer morningstar imagines #dewey finn #peter b parker imagines #ahkmenrah #okoye imagines #lucifer imagines #dewey finn imagines #ahkmenrah imagines #regrettablewritings #spiderman into the spiderverse imagines #spiderman itsv imagines #spiderman imagines #i tried posting this on my phone and it literally fucking deleted EVERYTHING #anyway @staff: the fuck is up? fix that shit because now i literally cannot post SHIT on my phone from my laptop #preference #preferences

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official-wayward-keener · 3 years

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Irondad Bingo

Peter gets a Stark Internship. He isn't Spider-Man yet. Here is the story.

Ao3 Link here

Peter knew he was smart. He would be stupid not to realize that and it is now establish that Peter is in fact smart. He just didn’t think he was qualified for a Stark Internship.

“Of course you are,” Ned reminded him. “You are going to be valedictorian one of these days.”

“Peter, you are just like your father and mother. You have all these ideas that could change the world and one of these days you are going to change the world,” Ben told him. Peter didn’t know what to say to all of this so he just hugged his uncle and held on to him tight.

“I’m proud of you,” May had told him as he told her. She had made sure he was hugged and reminded that he deserved this.

Peter knew they were all proud but not he was nervous and worried that he would mess this all up. It was a big deal to get a Stark Internship. Especially when he was in high school. Not many people got the Stark Internship so Peter getting it was a surprise for him. He just had to deal with his first internship day.

Peter had loved his first day at the internship. There were five high school interns besides himself. They all seemed nice and Peter figured this wouldn’t be a bad internship as he worked with his partner, Harley.

“I heard you go to Midtown,” Harley told him.

“Yeah, I’m a Freshman there currently,” Peter said.

“I start next week,” Harley told him. Peter seemed excited to have his new partner in crime go to school with him. Peter didn’t think he would make any friends but he was thankful to be friends with some of the other high school interns.

“Hey, can you spare Harley and whoever he is working with for a second?” a voice broke out in the lab. One that Peter had only heard on tv.

“Of course,” Natalie, their manager, told Tony Stark. She was just as shocked. Harley seemed to look down, embarrassed.

“You save a man once and he forever thinks he's in your debt,” Harley mumbled. Peter didn’t know what that meant but he was now about to meet the one and only Tony Stark. Harley and Peter walked over to Tony who seemed to look over Peter amused at the young boy.

“I need someone who has worked on the Iron Man tech to look over some stuff. Figured you and your partner would enjoy a look at a battle damaged armor,” Tony told Harley. Harley didn’t seem amused but the two agreed to go up. Peter is excited and talking to Tony asking about certain things with the Arc Reactor. Tony was impressed by Peter to say the least so when they entered the lab and the boys were looking at the suit giving their suggestions, Tony took both into consideration. Peter didn’t realize how much Tony was impressed by Peter.

Peter got home and told Ben all about his day. Ben was impressed by everything that Peter was telling him. His nephew was working with a literal genius.

“My partner and I got to work with Tony Stark. Like it was amazing. He even helped me understand some things about the arc reactor that confused me in the past,” Peter told Ben.

“That is amazing. I’m glad you had a good first day at your internship,” Ben let Peter know.

“Who had a great first day?” May asked.

“Peter got to work personally with the owner of the company,” Ben told her.

“You don’t say,” May said.

“Harley and I both got to. I think Harley knew Mr. Stark from something else. Just by the way Mr. Stark treated him as family and such,” Peter said. May and Ben seemed surprised but didn’t say anything more focused on how happy their nephew was.

Tony Stark had been impressed by Harley Keener when he first met him. Harley had become the only kid he could tolerate. Until today.

“Pepper,” Tony whined.

“No, Harley can not be your personal assistant,” Pepper said.

“How about Harley and Peter?” Tony asked. Pepper looked at him confused.

“Who is Peter?” Pepper asked.

“Peter is Harley’s intern partner,” Tony said. “He might even be smarter than me.”

“I’m not giving you two high schoolers as personal assistants,” Pepper said.

“Pepper, this could be a big opportunity and look good on their applications to college,” Tony reminded her. Pepper seemed to think before she sighed.

“Only because I want them to have a good future,” Pepper said. “But I am going to monitor any projects connected to the internship and they will still have to do monthly team meetings with the other interns.” Tony agreed before running off to tell Harley.

Peter didn’t expect that text saying he was now Tony’s personal intern. He didn’t know what to say. Harley had told him that he was just told and to expect a phone call. So when he got the phone call he was even more surprised. He was excited for the change in his internship. Peter knew May and Ben would hear soon so he told them. He was vibrating as he told them about the new changes.

“I should have known you would blow away their minds,” May said. Ben agreed with her, proud of his nephew even if he was iffy of Tony Stark.

Peter and Harley did a lot together while also assisting Tony. Tony got to know Peter and realized the kid reminded him of a younger version of himself. He enjoyed working with both of them but sometimes just hearing Peter rant about his latest idea made him wonder if the idea would work but he normally let Peter figure it out himself. Tony didn’t want to steal the boy's credit. Peter was always excited when Tony asked him to work on one of his ideas. Harley would even give his two cents and Peter would enjoy listening to their feedback. It was nice working with both boys and Tony was starting to enjoy it. That was until Fall Break came.

“Do you really have to go?” Peter asked the Thursday before Fall Break. Harley looked at him with a kind smile.

“Yeah, Ma wants me home for a bit so next week will just be you and Tony in the labs,” Harley told him. Peter still was pouting but he seemed to understand. The day went by without a hitch and Harley left the next day after school. Tony didn’t know what to do without a kid around for a few days until Peter was in the lab. That’s when it hit Tony. Peter was like a son to him just like Harley. Yes, Peter had his own family but he treated the kid like he was his own. Maybe he could invite the Parkers over sometime to get to know them.

Peter was excited when Tony suggested meeting his uncle and aunt. After a bit of planning courtesy of Ben and Pepper. The three ended up having dinner with Tony, Pepper, and Harley. Peter had told his uncle about what he had been up to and Ben was interested in meeting Tony after Pepper told him about how much Peter had affected her boyfriend.

“Harley and Tony have their bond but Tony seems to just adore Peter and find him interesting which he rarely does with children. It took him a while to warm up to Harley when they first met,” Pepper informed Ben. He expected as much from his nephew. He had a way around people.

“He is that way around everyone he meets,” Ben told her. “He is something special. I’m just sorry that his parents couldn’t see it before they passed.”

“Well I’m glad he has you,” Pepper said. “I met him once and he talked about how important you were to him.” Ben seemed surprised but didn’t say anything about it. He didn’t think he was that important to his nephew. Tony had made sure to talk to them both and all he said were praises for their nephew. Ben saw the way he looked at Peter and Harley. It was the same way he looked at his nephew.

“He has this way of pulling people close to him,” Ben told Tony.

“Well he did that. He just is something else,” Tony said. “Reminds me of myself at that age before everything happened in my life.” Ben seemed to be glad that Tony wasn’t like the man he had once heard about in the news. He had seemed to change. Maybe it was a start to something better.

Peter had been sick for four days and so he hadn’t been in the labs. When it had been almost a week without him seeing Peter, Tony was concerned. That was until he got a phone call from May telling him that Ben was gone. Tony had got to the Parker residence quickly and found Peter freshly showered in pjs on the couch. May told Tony he had been there and held Ben as he passed away. Tony made sure to sit next to the kid and slowly. Peter moved closer to him and hugged him as the kid cried. In the past, Tony would not know what to do but now he was getting used to hugs.

“Thank you for being here,” May whispered to him after Peter fell asleep in his arms. Tony knew he had become connected to this family since he met them. Peter was like another kid to him.

“Thank you for calling me. I know it's hard to lose a parent,” Tony told her. She just nodded as she helped get Peter to bed before Tony asked how he could help. May just let him know being there helped. Later when Peter woke up and Tony was asleep on the couch, Peter smiled before thanking the hero while he slept. He knew Tony didn’t hear it but he didn’t want to thank his hero. He sat at the table with a notebook and worked on his next private project, codename: Spider-Man.

#irondad #tony stark #peter parker #pre bite peter parker #harley keener #pepper potts #ben parker #may parker

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blushing-starker · 4 years

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Listen. I know it's been done before. But @starkermoodboards and I were sighing dreamily at starker when I had a miniature epiphany. A lot of content revolves around Peter being mafia boss Tony's lover and not taking part in the illegal business, and I am here for it. It's an amazing concept that I appreciate wholeheartedly. I just decided to shift the dynamic and see how it played out.

The man who runs the sandwich shop can't pay up because his daughter had a rollerblading accident? No problem, Peter will leave her flowers, fill the hospital room with teddy bears and extend the due date. You missed the meeting because pay day came in from the day job and you blew it on beer and cocaine? The kid, usually seen smiling and laughing with nearly everyone, doesn't appear all that threatening. Barnes does. But then this beanpole from Queens decks you so hard two teeth go flying. Consider the due date changed. There are now twelve hours on the clock before Peter comes by to collect. Hiding makes it worse. Tony's enforcers, particularly Peter, Clint, Wade and Pietro, love when people run for cover. It helps keep them in shape and breaks the routine.

But then a new boss rolls into town, a so called Killian (Iron Man 3, I can't remember the name) that tries to steal Pepper and his customers. None leave Tony, of course. Those with small businesses, the little guys, appreciate how compassionate Iron Man is. Even the people that often see Peter's knuckles up close don't turn on him; the prices are extremely fair and the Starks' always go through with the deals. So this peacock decides to challenge Tony for the throne. It's a political suicide, a new comer daring to impose upon such an honorable house. Not only that, Tony's been in Queens for decades and he's never once betrayed those that were loyal to him. The man had helped the city become a thriving community, often offering assistance to the people while the government's hands were tied. To challenge Tony was to challenge the principles of the entire system. Thing is, it was technically allowed.

The laws state that any person who believes they have fair reason to challenge another member may do so only if the ensuing fight is overseen by the council. There is no room for competitors to initiate wars based on faux insults. Tony couldn't take out Killian's safe house as retaliation for the challenge. Killian was unable to bomb the Stark headquarters to establish dominance. It was the mafia, not an anarchic society. There was order to these types of things.

Peter arrives early with the team, sweeping the area and making sure the ring hides no lethal secrets. He's been to plenty of these fights, but Tony hasn't been challenged in nearly two decades and the man almost never has to fight someone when there are bodyguards to be found everywhere. Nonetheless, the older enforcers can easily recall the last time Anthony Stark was in the ring and they assure the young man Killian will be out like a light after the boss steps in. They wait, silent and solemn, eyeing the competition for any threats or tricks. The men on the other side are from neighboring cities, names hazy but reputations sparkling. There will be no illusions today. Except from the jester with slicked back hair and a haughty attitude.

The insults rain down and they don't flinch. This behavior is inappropriate, for there is honor among thieves and devils. If one is to seriously fight, one keeps quiet and stays with their own. Most fights that occur between opposing families are mere squabbles, friendly rivalries that keep the atmosphere thrumming during boring weekends or holidays. Barnes has a hobby of coaching Steve in the ring after work and Natasha tends to employ her knife throwing skills against Clint's bow and arrow. They would fight members of the same family for fun, for fuck's sake. But no matter the cause or how drunk people were, insults were looked down upon.

It starts with their abilities as enforcers. Peter stares straight ahead at the wall, they all do. The Stark members were considered some of the fiercest fighters by the community, matched only by the legendary Black Panthers. The little boy criticising their skills does not know how in the wrong he is. But he's a quick learner. The tone shifts slowly, and shift it does. Ten minutes before Tony arrives, his rival begins claiming how incompetent and worthless he is. That makes every person grind their teeth simultaneously.

Whether or not you were a member of the Starks did not matter. It was clear Iron Man was an efficient leader ready to help the entire city evolve into something better. So when Killian leans towards Peter, boasting how he'd do a much better job of ruling, him, a nobody that can't even follow the protocols, the kid very nearly rips him a new one. But that is not allowed and a Stark enforcer does not break a law unless absolutely necessary. He would not bring dishonor upon his job, his fellow coworkers, his family; he would not tarnish the Stark name, let alone allow this weakling to get the better of him. Peter loves Tony and he'd let Bucky put a bullet in him if he ever harmed his boyfriend in any way. Not only had Tony saved his life, he'd shown Peter a better reality that let him thrive. He'd shown the young man how to love himself. Taught him he could be loved by another without anguish souring the relationship.

He was Tony Stark's right hand man, one of the best bodyguards in the mafia. Not just a powerful enforcer either. Peter was more than a Stark; he was the goddamn Spider and that meant something here. Before Stark dropped into his life like a fallen angel, Peter Parker ruled the ring. They considered Ben Parker's nephew a legend years ago, a warrior that could go head to head with the best without dying. Fighting against people like Black Widow and the Winter Soldier had earned him his reputation. Every knocked out tooth, jagged scar and black eye made it clear to all: he was a menace unwilling to break for anyone. Becoming Tony's lover and enforcer only resulted in more respect, but the community hadn't viewed Peter as strong for the first time when he exchanged kisses with the Iron Man. They realized the kid was strong the second he looked Bucky in the eye and grinned at the challenge.

(Peter guessed that's why they get along so great. Buck was a puppy. A lethal one that could rip your arm out, but still a puppy to him. The older of the two appreciated being seen as more than just a good fighter.)

Peter vows not to break. And then Killian is claiming he could breed Tony's bitch, show Peter how a real man fucks. The man gets so close he tastes the spit that comes flying two seconds later.

"Tony Stark is unworthy of his seat. And he sure as hell doesn't deserve such a pretty little thing like you."

It's sneered at him, Killian smirking at him wildly. The whole place changes, white tiles morphing into shades of red and Peter wants.

Barnes snarls at Tony's rival with eyes gone dark, Natasha lets out a hiss reminding him of rattlesnakes and the two russian speakers pounce at the same time. If Clint and Steve weren't so attuned to their family and strong as hell, Killian would be sliced ribbons decorating the floor. All in all, a fairly restrained reaction. Peter's proud of Nat and Bucky for not killing the man on the spot. Makes a mental note to get them new punching bags and cover Clint and Steve's shifts should they need the extra hours.

Killian doesn't move from his spot when the room becomes alive with furious shouts of indignation and Peter has to admit it's impressive. But this is a child, and children respond best to the monsters hiding in the closet, not the ones standing in the light. So Peter thinks about the audacity this creature has, insulting his lover, criticising decades of hard work and dedication, diminishing their relationship and in the process implying that his fellow enforcers were just pieces of meat to satisfy lust, inadequate at their jobs. For to attempt to dishonor or belittle one enforcer meant questioning everyone's competency. Not only that, this scum thought Peter was nothing but a whore. He hadn't fought enhanced assassins just so an arrogant dick would take one look at him and dismiss him as a threat.

Peter doesn't raise a hand or growl or yell or shoot him. He could, the council would see it as fair. After all, Killian had insulted all aspects of Peter's life. Doing any of that wouldn't lead to Killian being beaten, though. And Peter wants him to submit. So Peter smiles and the Spider comes out to play.

By the time Tony arrives, his baby has two buttons undone and a single strand of hair out of place from where he stands in the ring. He knows an enraged Peter when he sees it.

The crowd parts for him, bowing slightly and falling quiet. Only the bosses held in high esteem get such a treatment and it's been years since the community behaved in such a way towards him. The Stark heir was arrogant, but he'd always preferred that the people's respect be shown in a different way, one more subtle.

The bowing reminded him too much of his father's reign, the silence that would engulf him as a child and choke the air out of his lungs with the pressure of Howard Stark's legacy. No matter where they went, the roar of nothing followed. Besides, he was always trying to remind the community that they were all equals. Tony was only in his position because of the people that chose him, the people with the actual power.

So for them to actually bow as low as possible and simply cease conversing, knowing how much Tony abhors the sight, it tells him just how deeply Killian fucked up.

By the hate found in Barnes' face and Nat's curled fist, his rival must have hit a little too close to home. But the man was still alive, leaning against a marble column. Which meant Peter, his genius lover, had somehow initiated a course of action that would lead to satisfaction for all those here. The mafia was made up of untamed creatures. For a hundred people to agree not to rip an intruder's throat when the man had so obviously comitted a heinous act, Peter must have pulled out the big guns.

He settles next to Steve, but all his enforcers surround him anyway. In fact, every person in their side of the room shifts closer. It warms his heart. He'll let them break Killian when this is done, show his appreciation for their care and protection.

Well. If Peter actually leaves something to break.

A body slides out of the ring, ends up at his feet. It's a man the size of Thor, someone living two cities over. The tattoos on his right hand are what clue Tony in. Peter's played fair. The guy will need all his teeth replaced and that scar will definitely make a lovely crisscross pattern on his face. Bruce and Strange are already there, dragging him to a corner filled with more groaning bodies and hard working nurses disinfecting wounds. Each man will showcase those scars proudly. They went against the Spider and lived to tell the tale with proof right on their bodies.

He counts ten. Turns to find Peter staring at him, expressionless face morphing into the one he's most familiar again. A grin confirms his suspicion; his darling isn't even sporting a bloody lip. The grin he gives in return appears instinctively, pride overflowing and resulting in Tony Stark beaming at the Spider. It's both unsettling and a relief. The community was used to a happy Peter so the interaction helped remind them who the Spider was. That familiar sense of comfort vanished because Jesus, Tony Stark was beaming.

"Feeling merciful, sweetheart? Giving them a minute is twenty times longer than usual." His tone is light, not wanting to imply Peter has gotten slow or rusty. Sure, it's been a while since his boyfriend was in the ring, but you don't offend the Spider when he's already in a bad mood.

Steve and Bucky tense up, eyeing Peter in case they need to fight him out of the ring. If he gets even more pissed, Killian's men don't stand a chance. Tony could stomach murder. Peter couldn't. The enhanced soldiers prefer the possibility of bruised ribs to Peter with a heavy conscience.

His boyfriend doesn't twitch and Tony thanks whatever entity exists for giving Peter some self control.

"Figured it'd be best I don't get the suit too dirty. May is always complaining about getting the blood stains out. It hurts her hands so I'm trying to help out. If I take the jacket off, the shirt will stain faster."

God, Peter could really pull at his heartstrings without meaning to. He falls in love with him a little more.

The eleventh man tries to catch Peter and tackle him to the ground. The kid just slides to the right, drops down, sweeps the guy off his feet and knocks him out with two punches. It's the loveliest thing Tony's fucking seen and he's thankful Jarvis is taking pictures. He settles the sunglasses onto his lapel, happy to let the A.I immortalize this moment from that vantage point.

"I'm gonna guess what's going on and you'll stop me if I'm wrong, right?" Peter nods and Tony is ridiculously happy for the chance to do this in front of Killian.

He glances at Nat, sizes up Barnes, reads Peter's posture and Steve's facial cues and just knows.

His father used to hate when his only child pointed at things before analysing them. Found it too mundane, or some shit like that. Tony makes sure to point at Killian with both index fingers.

"You were disrespectful to my people. That's common with you. They shouldn't take anyone's insults, but they can and they did. The council probably thinks they were exemplary, hell, Fury probably thinks they were the textbook definition of good. But you kept pushing. Just poking at their buttons. Because it's Peter in the ring, you're little stunt turned personal. You insulted him, his family, me. If it had been one of the others members, Peter would have cut you a nice scar. But tradition is tradition. Even if he could have challenged you, which he could have, Peter would have stepped aside in that case. The recipient of the insult should have a role in the fight. You pissed him off before I got here. Thought he was weak. The last person to be that naive learned how ridiculous that assumption was when Peter beat their ass."

Peter had knocked Tony flat on his back when he'd made a comment about frail sheltered boys not knowing how to fight. He hadn't seen the kid fight before that; hadn't processed the fact that soft looking Peter Parker was the menacing Spider. That was two years ago. Not a single soul has thought Peter weak since then. Until now.

"The law states your men can take your place against your rival. Which is honorable if you're at a disadvantage. Broken bones, flu, life handing you shit right before the day of the fight. It isn't really put in practice, though, because the council knows how hard it is for everyone to synchronize their schedules for a second round if there are problems. They plan weeks ahead of time to ensure participants are in perfect condition. You seem to be just fine. Putting your men in danger by having them take your place against Peter just for the hell of it, just so you survive, sounds like what an idiot boss would do. If you had courage, you'd fight Peter. You'd fight me, but I doubt you're man enough."

The taunting does its work. Tony knows Peter can just knock him out before Killian even gets close. He could switch with his lover, but Peter needed to establish his reputation once again, make it impossible for any to doubt his abilities. By saying Killian is a coward, the Stark heir challenges his claim of being good enough for the throne. No mafia member would accept his reign if they knew Killian lacked bravery. Well. They already knew this, it just needed to be finalized so the council could have it all in record.

The man has just witnessed what happened when Peter wished for destruction and justice. He could get in the ring, be knocked out and none would laugh. The community would talk about it, but they never mocked the loser. Killian would be seen as an incompetent asshole that at least had courage. If he refused…

Every Stark enforcer/member grinned when the peacock snarled and entered the ring. Until a butterfly knife gleamed and slashed through wool, cotton and flesh.

It feels odd, being stabbed. You'd think the cold blade would send goosebumps everywhere, but Peter doesn't register the cold. Would he be cold if the blade was bigger? Or if Killian hadn't been holding the knife for an hour? He knows his reaction is ridiculous. Who the fuck was wondering about the temperature when they had a knife piercing their abdomen?

Although, it could be the shock. Yeah, he remembers Bruce's lessons on the effects of stabbing. Natasha had also reminded him of the shock, so at least that's a normal symptom. What isn't normal are his other ... responses to being stabbed.

"Are you gonna need this back?" is asked sweetly, nearly sickly so. The Spider has a thing for contrasting aesthetics . Being a little shit while a knife is rearranging his intestines does not sound common, but Peter takes pleasure in behaving oddly.

Killian gapes at him, mouth wide and eyes wider. He shakes his head, careful not to jostle Peter too much. Not like it matters much. There's a metal arm dragging him to safety, sliding over the ring's edge and onto a stretcher. Bucky is being as gentle as possible, he knows. It still feels horrible to move and have the knife shift in time with his breathing. Nat is there to rip open the suit, nails clearing the area around the intrusion and Doctor Strange appearing with antiseptic and everything Peter needs. He loves the Doctor.

And yes, definitely in shock. As he's being wheeled away to the med corner, there's a roar similar to that of a lion and Peter catches sight of Tony leaping at Killian. His clothes, jacket, vest, shirt and wife beater lay in a heap by Steve. Tony's expensive shoes are guarded by Sam. The shoemaker was a nice woman. She bought him a churro once. After that, his boyfriend would always buy his shoes at her store. Peter appreciated Tony helping out the little people. It was nice being what society thought was a bad guy while not actually being a bad guy. Like capitalist loving jerks like Brad. The room's spinning a bit and oh look, sparkly lights.

Afterwards, Jarvis shows him pictures of Killian, explains how the man landed in prison five days after the fight. The council had convened with their counterparts from five different cities. All had tales of Killian's horrible behavior. It wasn't hard to call in a few favors and dump him in jail. It was a bit hard to recognize him, though. Tony had gone berserk and no self respecting person was going into the ring to drag him off his rival.

Killian played dirty, so his boyfriend had first claim to fight while Peter was being treated. Steve and Bucky only hauled him away when five minutes had passed, not wanting their boss to have more blood on his hands.

Peter himself only remembers the dull sting of a needle meant to calm him, Nat's gentle cooing and Sam wiping away the sweat near a disheveled curl. Bruce and Strange had murmured assurances during all of it, careful to work on Peter away from Tony's eyes. If Iron Man thought he'd lose his lover, Killian would've been dead in two minutes.

He'd woken up a few hours later, Tony sitting by his side and sobbing. His boyfriend was sniffling as he wrapped Peter's hand in bandages. Apart from the new scar on his stomach, only his knuckles were slightly bruised. Even so, the mafia's most efficient leader was tenderly applying antibiotic cream to the tiny nicks, letting enough space between bandage and skin for the area to breathe. Tony had never once been violent with him, but Peter thinks this is the first time he's seen his boyfriend be so gentle.

The angle was odd and uncomfortable with him being unable to bend much at the waist. That didn't stop the legendary Spider from kissing Iron Man softly, barely there whispers filling the centimetres between them.

"I love you, Tony. And I'd do it all over again for you. I love you, I love you, I love you 3000.

Alright, here we go! My mind associated Killian's body with Yinsen's name and I've no idea why, but here's the correct version.

#starker #my moodboards #ironspider #peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #peter x tony #tony stark #dark!tony #Dark!Peter #Mob boss!Tony #Enforcer!Peter #Enforcer!Steve #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #Enforcers!Avengers #Dark!Starker

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tomandpeterthings · 4 years

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Teenage Hustler (1/2)

[Winterironspider]

Summary: Tony was kissing him dominantly and as though he was trying to devour him, exploring and tasting every inch of his mouth. Completely lost in the moment, Peter moaned into the kiss, having forgotten everything - and everyone - around him. Only when he felt Bucky pressing against him from behind, successfully sandwiching the teen between the two tall, strong bodies, Peter remembered they were not alone.

In a desperate need for money, college freshmen Peter Parker finds himself in a hotel room with an older, married couple, who promise him the night of his life. Or... was it the other way round?

[My entry for Kinktober2020 | Prompt: Restraints]

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Alternate Universe (No Powers), Established Winteriron, Threesome, Dom/Sub, Restraints, Light Bondage, Choking, Blindfolds, Sub Peter Parker, Bottom Peter Parker, Top Tony, Top Bucky, Dom Tony Stark, Dom James Barnes

AO3 Link or read here:

Peter didn't think he'd ever been more nervous. Trembling and sweating, he was standing in front of the President’s Suite in one of the most luxurious hotels in New York, wondering what the hell had gotten into him.

“Relax, Peter… You can do this,” he quietly mumbled to himself, hoping that his clients weren’t standing right behind the door. “It’s just sex. No big deal…”

In fact, it was a very big deal. Because it wasn’t ‘just sex’.

It was paid sex with two men. That’s what it was.

Not even 24 hours ago, Peter had registered on some sort of hooker app recommended by Harley, a guy from college he was tutoring and whom he had recently befriended. The topic came up when Peter confided in Harley about his increasing financial problems.

Peter didn’t think he’d heard right when Harley proposed the app to him, calling him the ‘most fuckable twink on campus’ who wouldn’t have any problems finding hismelf a ‘sugar daddy’ or someone else desperate enough to pay for sex. “There ain’t enough pretty boys for all these thirsty older men out there. You'd be their wet dream come true, trust me.”

Despite having doubts, Peter's curiosity - and ever-growing despair - got the better of him, so he ended up registering after all. Over the course of the next couple of hours, he had gotten flooded with requests from guys all over New York, who offered him a ridiculous amount of money for sending nudes or agreeing to meet with them.

Though only one profile had stood out to Peter. His heart had skipped a beat when he’d opened it, showing a photo of two extremely hot guys who were quite a bit older than him. They didn’t show their full faces on the photos they sent - only glimpses - but judging by their illicitly hot, half-naked bodies alone, Peter had hit the jackpot.

They had briefly described themselves as a married couple looking for a ‘submissive bottom’, and as it appeared, Peter was exactly what they wanted. They had wasted no time offering him one fucking thousand dollars for a single night, and after some hesitation, he had agreed.

It’s not like he wasn’t scared… because he was. Shit, he’d never been more scared of anything in his life before. But he was also very much excited, realizing that his most sinful fantasy might actually be coming true (admittedly, these fantasies only ever included him being passed back and forth between two hot guys, and not the part where they paid him for it, but… oh well.).

Knowing he would only get more anxious the longer he waited, Peter had set a day for the following night already. Besides, not properly getting to know his clients before the sex was the whole point of prostitution, right?

Harley still had some useful tips for him. "Only meet them in a hotel or any other public place. Send me the location and screenshots of their profile, so I know where you’re at, in case anything happens. And don't let them talk you into doing anything you aren't comfortable with. No money in the world is worth getting pressured into agreeing to do anything you don't really want."

"Yeah, don’t worry… They said we would negotiate everything beforehand and promised that I could stop the whole thing anytime I want."

Grinning, Harley had wriggled his eyebrows. "They sound kinda kinky, don't you think?"

Kinky? "Look, I know what I'm doing", Peter said, despite having no clue at all what he was doing, "It's not like this is my first time having sex."

Actually, it would only be his second time having sex, and the first time he would be getting paid for it, but… Nobody had to know, right? He just needed to stop overthinking and act be confident…

Easier said than done, he thought, glancing anxiously at the hotel room door. After taking a deep breath, Peter forced himself to knock. As he waited with bated breath, he tried to calm himself down. He would be fine. He had spent the whole day preparing for this, both physically and mentally. He had showered, razored, properly cleaned himself down there, and even prepped a bit. He was ready. More than ready. The readiest he could ever-

Okay, whom was he trying to fool? He was anything but ready. What the fuck was he even doing here? Maybe he should just-

Peter gulped when the door was unlocked with a soft 'click'. Seconds later, it swung open, revealing…

Oh. shit. The guy eyeing him up and down - looking surprised, yet highly interested - was none other than Tony Stark, one of the most successful engineers in the world. One of his biggest idols, no less. Oh god… oh god oh god oh god-

"Are you Peter?"

Relax… breathe… "Um… yes, sir."

Tony’s lips curled into a pleased smile. "I see you have manners, kid. Sweet. Come in." Anxious as fuck, Peter stepped into the luxurious hotel suite, eyes widening in admiration. The lobby alone already had to be bigger than his tiny one-bedroom apartment.

Peter flinched when the door fell shut behind him. “Like what you see?” Tony nodded his head at the expensive furniture.

“Oh… Yes, sir.”

“Me too.” Tony let his eyes openly roam over Peter’s body, smirking when the boy blushed. “I’m Tony, by the way. And this -” he nodded his head behind Peter, “- is James, my husband.”

Peter quickly turned around, heart leaping into his throat as he spotted another guy leaning casually against the doorframe of the adjacent room, arms crossed in front of his chest. One of his arms was made of dark metal showing a few faint, golden lines. It was… quite hot, actually.

“You can call me Bucky,” the man smiled, eyeing Peter up and down as well. “Wow, you look… pretty young in real life.”

“So they say.”

Tony walked over to his husband, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Are you even legal yet?”

“Of course,” Peter said, forming his lips into a small pout, ”didn’t you look at my profile?”

Tony and Bucky exchanged a glance before they both burst out laughing. “Kid, I’m sorry, but there’s no way you’re twenty-three.”

Peter’s face started to burn. “All right, I’m twenty-one. Um… twenty.” When the two older men amusedly raised their brows, he gave up. “Shit, okay, I’m eighteen, but... I really want to do this... please.”

Was it bad that he wasn’t even thinking about the money anymore? He just wanted Tony fucking Stark and his extremely hot husband to fuck his brains out.

After glancing at Bucky once again, Tony took a few steps forward. “I admit that I got hard the second I saw you, but we have never- I mean, we usually don’t-”

“Consider anyone that young,” Bucky finished, stepping forward as well, “You have done this before, though, right?”

“Sure,” Peter lied, hoping to sound convincing. “I have, um, met a lot of guys already.”

Looking somewhat relieved, Tony advanced again. “Do you think you can handle the both of us, though? You see, Bucky and me - we both like to take. We can be very… demanding and you look a little… petite.”

"I’m not petite," Peter pouted, feeling slightly offended. "I’m much more, um, resilient than I look. And as it happens, I love to... give.”

Tony let out an excited groan at that. “Bucky, I think we hit the jackpot.”

“We sure did.” Bucky came up next to Tony, looking down at Peter. He was so freaking tall... “But just so we’re clear, Peter, If you’re convincing enough, we’ll make sure you’ll get your money’s worth. Promise.”

Peter couldn’t help himself. “Technically, it’s you paying me, so I guess it’s you who should be hoping that you’ll get your money’s worth, right?”

Stunned, Bucky and Tony stared at each other, mouth opened in surprise. Then, they broke into another laughing fit. “You’re quite the wit, huh?” Bucky grinned.

Tony, however, shook his head. “Actually, I think he’s being a little brat,” he teased, licking over his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, eyes burning with desire. “I would be careful, kid… brats usually don’t qualify for special rewards.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to earn myself one, if you let me.”

Groaning once more, the husbands share an exciting look. Tony then asked Peter to follow them into the room Bucky had come out of earlier, sounding a little impatient now. “How about a quick drink before we get started?”

“Tony, he’s eighteen,” Bucky reprimanded, rolling his eyes at Peter. Chuckling, the teen set in motion, gasping when he entered the luxurious bedroom. He couldn’t shake the feeling that a night in this suite cost more than his monthly rent.

Pouring himself and his husband a glass of whiskey, Tony pointed at a small glass table in the middle of the room. “There’s your money. One thousand, just like we agreed on.”

In awe, Peter picked up the ten one-hundred-dollar notes; he’d never had so much cash before. Actually, he couldn’t remember ever having one thousand bucks in his bank account either, so...

“On the table, you’ll also find a list with things we enjoy or would love to do,” Bucky added, snapping Peter out of his thoughts. “Please don’t feel pressured into selecting anything you’re not comfortable with. If none of these things are appealing to you, that’s fine too.”

Nervous, yet curious, Peter picked up the list. His hope that this would be his chance to prove himself evaporated as soon as he started reading. He had no fucking clue what most of these words even meant. Just when despair and shame started to crawl up his spine, his eyes fell on the word ‘Restraints’.

Oh. Fuck.

The thought of getting tied up and used by these two men was as frightening as it was appealing. Should he allow two strangers to…? No. That would be way too reckless, wouldn’t it?

And yet, the more Peter thought about it, the tighter his pants got. What if he never got another chance like this? A shy guy like him would probably never find a boyfriend anyway, and even if he did, Peter doubted he would be brave enough to ask him to try anything like this, too great was his fear of getting rejected.

Screw it. Tony and Bucky had promised he could always ask them to stop if it got too much. Besides, this was Tony Stark in front of him. He surely couldn’t risk getting bad headlines for hurting an eighteen-year-old kid...

Clearing his throat, Peter told them he had made his choice. After the two men had taken a curious look at the list, they glanced at each other, looking overjoyed.

“Are you sure about this? This normally requires a certain level of trust, and we would totally understand if you’re not up for it.” Bucky flashed Peter a warm smile that made his stomach flip.

When the boy nodded, Tony added, “All right, kid, but I need you to promise that you will tell us as soon as you want to be freed, okay? There’s absolutely no pressure to go through with it, and you would still get your money even if we didn’t end up fucking, okay?”

For claiming they were very demanding, they surely acted like concerned sweethearts. “I promise.”

“What’s your safeword?”

His what? Peter was about to ask when it hit him - begging to be freed would probably be part of the game. God, if they didn’t get a move on, he’d probably come in his pants before they even touched him. “It’s, um...“ Blushing, he let his eyes roam. “T-Telephone.”

“Telephone?” Tony raised his brows. “Um… okay, then. Telephone it is. May I suggest a somewhat ‘faster’ alternative? If you want us to stop, just say ‘red’. In case you’re still good but want us to back off a little, use ‘orange’. If you’re fine, say ‘green’. Is that okay for you?”

Fuck, they’d probably guessed he was completely green himself... “Y-Yes, totally. Green, orange, red. Um. Got it.”

“Awesome. Now let’s get you out of these clothes, shall we?”

Taken by surprise, Peter needed a few seconds to collect himself. “Oh… Um, sure. Should I just undress, or…”

Peter forgot what he was about to say when the two men marched forward like lions creeping up on their prey, looking at him as he was fucking edible. Tony didn’t take his eyes off Peter’s face until he was standing right in front of him, lifting his hands to cup Peter’s face. The boy’s breath hitched, but before he could even start to wonder if it was normal for hookers to kiss their clients, Tony was already pressing his puckered lips against his.

Peter’s heart leaped into his throat and he eagerly opened his lips, allowing Tony to lick into his mouth. His legs almost gave in when the older man’s tongue started dancing around his own, making him taste the burning flavor the whiskey had left in Tony’s mouth. Peter had only kissed two guys before, and both of them had been lacking passion and experience. Tony, on the other end… Tony was kissing him dominantly and as though he was trying to devour him - claim him - exploring and tasting every inch of Peter’s mouth.

Completely lost in the moment, Peter moaned into the kiss, having forgotten everything - and everyone - around him. Only when he felt Bucky pressing against him from behind, successfully sandwiching the teen between the two tall, strong bodies, Peter remembered they were not alone.

Without warning, Tony pulled back, eliciting a frustrated groan from Peter’s throat. Seconds later, it was replaced by a needy gasp when Tony and Bucky started making out just over Peter’s right shoulder, pressing their bodies so firmly against him that he could feel their growing hardnesses rubbing against his back and front.

He was going to die.

Before Peter could try to figure out what he was supposed to do now, they stopped kissing. Two pairs of hands grabbed the hem of his shirt and undressed him roughly. Once he was shirtless, Bucky’s human fingers took a hold of his hair. He tilted Peter’s head back and leaned down, making it his turn to claim the teen’s swollen, puffy lips.

Bucky kissed him gently at first, and then more fiercely, sending wild tremors along Peter’s nerves. At the same time, Tony’s teeth grazed the sharpness of Peter’s jawline, his tongue licking its way down his sharp bone before nibbling at his exposed neck.

Finding it extremely hard to focus, Peter didn’t do anything apart from moaning and gasping into the kiss, the sensations evoked from him so overwhelming his brain seemed to stop functioning for a while.

Only from afar he could feel Bucky letting go of his hair to use both of his hands to grab Peter’s wrists and move them behind his back. After what felt like hours, Bucky broke the kiss. Gasping for air, Peter half-heartedly tried to yank free from Bucky’s vice-like grip, but found that the man was way too strong for him (which was hotter than it should probably be).

In the meantime, Tony had worked his way down to Peter’s nipples, using both his fingers and mouth to pinch, lick, suck and tease. The teen was so embarrassingly hard at this point that his boxers had to be soaked with precum, and it got even worse when Bucky continued his husband’s earlier attack on Peter’s exposed neck with his own teeth and lips.

Feeling completely useless, Peter just stood there with trembling legs, trapped between these two handsome, hot men, unable to do anything but whimper and moan as they littered his body with love bites.

Finally, Tony placed a hand on Peter’s cock, palming him through his jeans. Gasping, Peter bucked his hips forward, wanting to get touched so badly - yet Tony seemed to take it as a sign to draw back, causing the boy to whimper at the loss of touch.

“P-Please…” God, he was acting like a fucking virgin.

“Please, what?” Tony grabbed Peter’s chin, eyes sparkling with arousal.

They were looking for ‘submissive’, right? “Can you please touch me... sir? Please...”

Looking a bit surprised, Tony gaped at him for a few seconds, but then, his lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Such good manners… What do you say, babe?”

To his misfortune, Peter could feel Bucky silently shaking his head behind him. “James says no, kid, and I agree. We told you that you’ve gotta be convincing if you want to earn yourself a special reward. So far, you haven’t exactly been doing anything to please us, have you?”

“But-”

“But?” Tony’s grip tightened, and even though it hurt a bit, Peter was far from using any of his safewords. “Are you actually talking back to me, a paying client, mere seconds after I praised you for having good manners?”

Shit. “I’m sorry, sir, you’re right, of course. Please allow me to convince you that I’m worth your money.”

Smiling smugly, Tony exchanged another glance with Bucky. “All right, boy. Take off your pants and get down on your knees. Show my husband a good time.”

Although Peter was a little self-conscious about getting stark-naked in front of two fully dressed men, he quickly took off his clothes, socks and shoes, praying that he wouldn’t start blushing.

“Aw, look, he’s blushing.”

So much for that...

Grinning, Bucky sat down in one of the comfortable looking armchairs, lazily unbuckling his jeans. “No need to act so coy, pup. Turn around, slowly, and show us more of your delicate, perfect body, will you?”

Red like a tomato, Peter turned. He could feel their eyes taking in every little detail of his body, and when he faced them again, they shamelessly stared at his hard, leaking cock.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty.”

“And needy,” Tony added with a mean grin, still eyeing his dick. “Just a head’s up - if you ‘accidentally’ climax without our permission, you’ll deeply regret it.”

Hearing Tony’s threat of punishment, Peter couldn’t help shuddering. And yet, his dick decided to be a, well, dick, twitching excitedly at the mere thought, causing both husbands to raise their brows in amusement. Deeply embarrassed, Peter quickly dropped to his knees, determined to show Bucky a ‘good time’, just like Tony requested.

Thankful for the carpeted floor, Peter slowly crawled towards Bucky. Both men began rubbing their evident bulges at the sight, clearly eager to get started. Bucky spread his legs so that Peter was able to kneel between them, and without wasting any more time, the boy reached out to unzip Bucky’s fly, his fingers shaking from anticipation and excitement.

[End of chapter 1. Chapter 2 will be posted on Sunday]

If you liked it, I’d be happy if you dropped kudos or a comment on AO3 :)

#winterironspider #winteriron #starker fanfiction #winterspider fanfiction #starker #winterspider

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knightofameris · 4 years

Text

different worlds - peter parker (stark!reader)

Setting: AU (earth-3490 based on MCU) Gender: Female Contains: Angst + fluff = flangst, established character deaths, curse words, anxiety attacks, very vague description of gore, mentions of alcohol, slight spoilers for FFH, in regards to it being 3490 it has Stony in it but also pepperony !!! so Word Count: 9k (oops)

Summary: Peter Parker has to learn how to cope with his mentor and his daughter being gone from the world. He holds a lot of regrets now because of how he never took his chance with (Y/n). But what does he do when he’s given the chance to tell her exactly how he feels? Except the only thing is she’s from another universe and she’s accompanied by someone he didn’t even recognize.

a/n: fuck canon because in this story steve doesn’t go back in time at the end of Endgame. Based on earth-3490 with elements of the MCU. Earth-3490 is a universe in which Tony was born identifying as a female (imo, can be interpreted in many different ways) and is named Natasha Stark. She ends up marrying Steve Rogers so it prevents the entirety of Civil war. In this MCU-3490, they’re just dating then marry after the snap in IW Natasha ‘Toni’ now goes by Tasha as she becomes more comfortable with her name instead of Toni from the headcanon that her name is Natasha Antonia Stark.

Let me know if there are any mistakes, regarding the gender of reader, grammar, spelling, or with the story. c: [repost from my old account]

Enjoy!

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

❝ in any universe, i’ll always love you ❞

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

When walking into a field of flowers, which flowers do you pick? The prettiest ones, right? The ones that look the healthiest, the brightest colored, and most beautiful one. You pick the ones that smell sweet and make you feel at peace. And then you put them in a bouquet to give to a loved one. Or you make them into a flower crown to wear on your head.

Flower corpses. That’s what flower crowns were made of, in a more dark way of describing it.

And it makes sense, doesn’t it? You only really want to keep the best ones, even if they die sooner.

But God, is it unfair.

It’s so unfair that the universe decided to pick both Tony and (Y/n) Stark, the prettiest ones of the bunch. Even though they were still blooming, even though they still had yet to show all their petals, the universe decided to pick them. Tony Stark, the one who started it all, and (Y/n) Stark, the one who was too young.

They both had so much to offer to the world, so much to give. Whether it be new inventions or just flat out love. Both Starks had so much love to give to the world. And for one of them, she never got the chance to give that love to the one she loved most.

Peter Parker sat down at the edge of the lake, watching the two bouquets of flowers holding Tony’s first arc reactor and (Y/n)’s first stuffed animal. His eyes were red and swollen. Even with his regenerative powers, Peter cried so much that it couldn’t heal. But for once, in the past few days since the battle, both battles for him, he finally stopped.

His mouth was dry and his nose was clogged with snot but he couldn’t help but continue to watch two people he grew to love and cherish over the past few years drift farther away from him.

Peter didn’t even notice Steve walk up to him from behind. Steve cleared his throat, jolting Peter out of his thoughts. He looked up at the older man. In a different circumstance, Peter would have geeked out there and then. But instead, he turned his head back towards the two bouquets.

“Peter, right?” Steve asked, following his gaze. Peter didn’t reply. “I… I never got to see your relationship with Tony. But I know he was proud of you. He always was and always will be. And (Y/n), I’ve watched her grow up. I’ve seen her with her all her partners but I’ve never seen her happier than when she talked about you. What I’m trying to say here is that their love for you didn’t leave with them. It’ll always be a part of you and I know that both of them would rather have you up and about than crying over them.”

Peter pursed his lips then scoffed, shaking his head. He didn’t even know how to respond to the Star-Spangled Man. He just wanted to be left alone.

He was angry and sad and feeling too many things at once. But he was mostly mad at himself. Mad that he never told (Y/n) his feelings for her and mad that he couldn’t save her.

So yeah, he wanted to be left alone.

Steve shuffled his feet, glancing down then letting out a breath, “If you need anything, I’ll be inside. You should also have my number on your phone, I’ll still be around.”

Peter waited till he heard Steve walk into the house and closed the door behind him to start crying again. He pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging it and started sobbing. His crying causing his entire body to shake as he cried into his suit once more.

Steve watched Peter cry alone from the lake house. It was quiet, save for the small murmurings amongst friends, the quiet sobbing from Pepper and a few others. He wished he could have done more, maybe it could have been him and at least one of the Starks could have been alive.

“You ready?”

Steve turned to face Bruce who was holding a case most likely holding the Infinity Stones.

He nodded and turned his head back towards Peter. If there was one thing he could do for Tony after everything, it could be looking after Peter and his family. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

***

(Y/n) cheered, raising her glass with everyone beside her as her mom said a toast.

“To the future of the universe, and the future of the Avengers,” Tasha smirked while staring straight at her daughter. “Oh come on, I know I can’t give as great of a speech as winghead over here but let’s celebrate! To the future!” She raised her glass with her robotic arm, the drink inside splashing out.

“To the future!” Thor’s voice boomed and everyone else followed suit, clinking glasses and causing splashes to go all around. Nebula had even accidentally slammed her cup into Scott’s too hard breaking both of their cups.

(Y/n) grinned as she drank the Shirley Temple and everyone else began the road down drunkenness. She kept one hand on her little sister’s shoulder, Maria, pulling her in as she drank her own juice and the two watched their mom jump off the table she stood on. Peter’s arm wrapped around (Y/n)’s, giving her a kiss on her temple.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better,” Steve’s eyes glanced between (Y/n), Maria, and Peter, “I would have thought you guys were just a very young family.”

Peter’s grip on (Y/n)’s shoulder tightened then he let go, stammering with his face red. (Y/n) rolled her eyes and let go of Maria who promptly ran up to Steve. Steve set his cup down, then bent down to pick up Maria with a grunt.

“Oh please, dad,” (Y/n) said, intertwining her fingers with Peter’s. Steve raised his eyebrows, his mouth slightly parted and (Y/n) just took another sip from her drink. “What? I mean, you are my dad now.” She eyed the red and gold banded ring on his left ring finger.

“No, I just thought—”

“I’m still upset we weren’t invited to the wedding, right Peter?”

Peter glanced back and forth between his girlfriend and Steve. (Y/n) held a slight smirk on her face while Steve was clearly exasperated. Maria just sat in her father’s arms, playing with her hair.

“Uhhhh,” Peter rubbed the back of his head, his eyes traveling elsewhere in the room

Steve shook his head, “Come on, your mom wants to see you.” (Y/n) tilted her head, cocking an eyebrow. Her hand parted from Peter’s as she told him she’d be right back.

Steve weaved through the crowd of people. (Y/n) could barely keep up with him, despite her smaller stature compared to Steve’s. But as long as her eyes laid on the back of his head, that’s all that mattered.

Finally, Steve stopped, handing Maria off to Tasha and (Y/n) finally caught up.

“Geez, for an old man you’re fast,” (Y/n) bent over, exaggerating how out of breath she was. She yelped as her leg gave out and she fell forward. Steve caught her quickly and Tasha gasped, reaching down for her as well.

Eyes landed on the four of them, watching as Steve brought her back up.

“I’m okay,” (Y/n) waved an arm, standing back up. “I’ll be fine.” She grinned up at Steve and her mom and then lightly banged on her prosthetic leg.

“Kid, what the fuck?” Tasha scrunched up her face.

“Toni.” Steve glared at her then looked quickly at Maria who sat in her arms. Maria giggled and Tasha twisted her mouth, shutting her eyes and hoping for the best. Meaning, hoping Maria wouldn’t repeat what she just said. She opened up one eye looking at Maria who was playing with Tasha’s hair, about to let out a sigh of relief.

“Fuck!” She repeated.

“A-bup-bup-bup!” Tasha used her free hand and pointed at her. “Remember, Daddy trademarked that word, we can’t use it. Don’t say it again or Dad’s gonna sue as both, and then we’d both be in big trouble.” Maria pursed her lips with a smile still evident on her round face. She pretended to zip it. (Y/n) watched quizzically at her younger sister but then shook her head right after.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes at her mom. “You’re terrible.”

“Says you.” Tasha pointed down at her leg. “Let’s go get that fixed up.”

“But,” (Y/n) pointed back to the party, “the party.”

“The party can wait, let’s go.” Tasha handed Maria back to Steve and then wrapped an arm around (Y/n). “Also, winghead, why’re we using Toni again? Tasha’s fine. I guess Toni’s fine too, but please—”

“Okay, okay,” Steve shook his head, lightly pushing the two of you towards the elevators. “Go get (Y/n)’s leg checked up on, shellhead.” (Y/n) gagged, sticking out her tongue and called the two of them gross. Tasha ruffled her hair, messing it up.

“What kind of pet names are those?” asked (Y/n) once they got in the elevator. Tasha arched her brow and looked down at her daughter who was pretending to gag.

“Webhead and shockhead,” she coughed into her hand loudly. “Oh man, sorry, must have a horrible flu coming down.” (Y/n) felt a rush of blood rise to her cheeks as she began protesting those nicknames. Tasha laughed, ruffling her hair again once the elevator dinged, signaling that they were finally at the labs of the facility.

“Don’t worry, you’re more of a Stark now with those kinds of nicknames,” Tasha smirked, walking out of the elevator doors and into the lab.

“Do I have to change my last name to Stark-Rogers or something? Rogers-Stark? How’s that even working? What’s Maria’s last name?” (Y/n) walked carefully to one of the chairs, her mom already opening up holographic display to figure out the problem on her leg.

Tasha hummed, widening the diagnosis, “We both changed to Stark-Rogers. Mine first ‘cause it flows more smoothly. So’s Maria’s. You can do whatever, sooner or later-” Tasha wiggled her eyebrows at (Y/n) “-it’s gonna be Stark-Parker. Maybe Stark-Rogers-Parker, no that’s excessive.”

Once again, (Y/n)’s face grew warm and she looked away, crossing her arms. “Whatever mom, just fix my leg.”

“No ‘please’? Ouch, my heart.” Tasha feigned pain on her chest and (Y/n) brought her hand up to her face in disappointment.

Her mom began to mutter to herself, grabbing a few tools and bending down in front of (Y/n) and slowly pulling the prosthetic off to properly fix it. (Y/n) watched her mother curiously as sparks began to fly from the tools and as she walked around grabbing new materials to put in. FRIDAY occasionally giving her pointers that she might have missed.

(Y/n) glanced down at the stub of her leg, her stomach beginning to become uneasy. She bit her lip, flashes of the previous battle coming back. She shut her eyes, trying to control her breathing and a shiver rushed over her. More flashes of fighting Thanos, watching her mom hold Peter as he disappeared in her hands, waking up five years later on the deserted planet Titan after turning to dust, losing her leg in a one-on-one fight with the mad Titan, almost losing her mom to her snapping.

(Y/n) vaguely heard her mom scramble to her, trying to get her to breath and to calm down. She worked herself into a cold sweat and her eyes slammed open, meeting Tasha’s brown eyes.

Tasha looked up at her, her eyes glancing back and forth between both of (Y/n)’s and her hands resting on both sides of her.

“It’s okay,” she reassured, running her hand through (Y/n)’s hair. “We’re safe, I’m okay. You’re okay. Pete’s okay.” (Y/n) nodded her head, trying to bring herself back to reality. “Count five red things in the room, for me, can you do that for me sweetheart?”

(Y/n) nodded her head again, her eyes moving to her mom’s arm, then her mom’s lipstick, the Iron suits, the red labels on beakers, then a red flashing light. (Y/n) frowned even with a sense of tranquility coming back. She raised her slightly shaking hand and pointed at it.

“What’s—What’s—Why’s that flashing red?”

Tasha turned her head around then promptly stood up. “That’s strange.” She glanced back at (Y/n) then walked towards the red flashing light, opening up holographic screens, the red light flashed quickly only to stopped. “Huh, I’ll have to talk to Banner and Shuri about this.”

“What is it?” (Y/n) asked.

“Well,” Tasha shut the holographic screens off then walked back to where (Y/n)’s prosthetic laid, grabbing it, “after discovering time travel, I’ve been looking into interdimensional travel.”

(Y/n) raised her eyebrows, “Like, alternate universes?”

“Yeah.” Tasha bent down in front of (Y/n), clicking her prosthetic back into place. (Y/n) slowly stood up, testing it. A few whirs came from the robotic leg before it finally quieted down.

“Does dad know about it?”

“About that,” Tasha scrunched her nose then paused. “Wait, hold on, dad? You’re already calling him dad?”

(Y/n) walked around in circles, squatting here and there too. “I mean, you guys are married now, right? By the way, you should have another wedding, I didn’t get to make it to your first one.”

“Yeah yeah, only if you’re the ring bearer, I don’t trust Peter with the rings.”

“Wait!” (Y/n) ran up to Tasha, her eyes widened. “Really?! You really mean it?”

“Maybe not about the ring bearer, but the wedding, sure. Huh, I could ask more people to be my bridesmaid. Probably would ask Pepper, Natasha and Nebula again. But,” she began pushing (Y/n) along to the elevator. “Let’s deal with that later, you have a party to go back to.”

(Y/n) frowned, getting into the elevator and turning around. “What about you mom?”

She raised her robotic arm in the air, “Gonna try fixing this up, feeling a bit of phantom pain. I’ll see you back up there. And no drinking.”

The elevator doors shut and (Y/n) waved her off. Not like she would drink with all the Avengers watching her. And that includes the original and the ‘honorary’ ones. They’ve all watched her grow up, afterall. Nat was the one to push her to confess to Peter, Clint embarrassing the two of them when they finally got together, and the really weird double dates with Vision and Wanda. Uncle Bucky would terrify Peter in the beginning with his piercing glare until he finally warmed up to him.

(Y/n) laughed, remembering the pranks Bucky and Sam pulled on Peter immediately after Steve and her mom talked things out; about the Accords, about Bucky murdering her parents and Steve not telling her (that one left their relationship broken for a while), and then their relationship and where it was going to go. It worked out in the end, the Avengers stayed together.

It’s what gave them the upper hand against Thanos the first time around, but he still snapped his fingers. The five years after the snap (or blip as the rest of the world calls it) still happened, but damn was everyone filled with rage against the mad titan.

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and (Y/n) narrowed her eyes with a tilt of her head. The floor was unlit and very very empty. No music played and there were no drinks scattered about, it was just clean.

Her hands stayed by her side, electricity dancing between her fingers as she slowly stepped out into the empty floor. Her eyes scanned the room back and forth and she glanced over her shoulder to make sure there was nobody there.

(Y/n)’s steps were deathly silent (thanks Nat) and her breathing in full control as she walked forwards.

Clink!

Her head shot towards the direction of the dining table. The corner of the wall covered the person sitting there, eating what looked like a bowl of cereal. She took another step and saw the back of Peter’s head, his suit was more apparent underneath his clothes. Namely on his feet.

(Y/n) sighed with relief, all her muscles in her body relaxing.

“Peter! What’s going on? Where’s the party?” She walked up to the boy. Peter turned around quickly, the whites of his eyes showing and he shot his hand out.

(Y/n) maneuvered to the side, dodging the web and watching it get stuck onto the floor. She looked back at Peter with a frown.

“Babe, what the fuck?”

“FRIDAY, lock the facility down, and contact whoever’s available,” Peter stated, quickly grabbing the glasses set on the table behind him and putting them on.

“Pete, what are you doing?” (Y/n) approached him slowly. The room began flashing red, a silent alarm was probably going off.

“You’re not real,” he stated. “Mysterio’s gone. He’s—He’s dead. So whoever-” he began to raise his voice despite it cracking “-whoever this is, just stop. (Y/n) is dead and you can’t trick me anymore.”

(Y/n) tilted her head and Peter choked on a sob, recognizing that head tilt she would always do but he backed up again when she got closer.

“Who’s Mysterio?” (Y/n) asked softly. “Peter, I’m me. (Y/n) Stark. We’ve been together for a year and a half, not counting the five years we were gone, obviously. Remember? You told me you first realized you liked me when I jumped into the Hudson river after my hair got all frizzy from my powers on our first night of patrol together.”

“We—We never got together,” Peter stammered. “But I never told anyone about when I first—when I first realized I liked you. How do—How do you know that?”

The elevator doors dinged, and the two teenagers looked over at whoever was on it. A furious Tasha Stark came stumbling out in her suit of armor.

“(Y/n)! Are you okay? Wha—Where’s the party?”

A red, white, and blue blur appeared in front of (Y/n)’s face, causing her to go wide-eyed when it slammed into Tasha’s helmet, knocking her back. (Y/n)’s head shot towards the perpetrator and saw Steve standing there.

“Sorry I didn’t come sooner, everyone else is out,” Steve said to Peter. The shield came flying back to him. Peter ran up to him, raising his arms up to him.

“Wait, wait, Mr. Rogers,” Peter glanced over at (Y/n) who ran over to her mom, picking her back up. “They’re legit.”

Steve shifted his weight, looking uneasily at the young boy to the other two. Tasha stood up, her helmet coming off and her jaw was clenched, hard.

“Of course we’re fucking legit, what the hell was that winghead?” Tasha nearly growled. Steve and Peter just exchanged glances with one another as the two women waited patiently for their response.

“I am so confused.”

***

Steve’s eyes lingered on the blue and gold wedding band on Tasha’s left ring finger longer than he’d like to admit. To be honest, he felt his chest flutter at the fact that Natasha ‘Toni’ Stark (Stark-Rogers now) married him in another universe. He never really thought about Tony in that way, mostly because of the man’s relationship with Pepper. He never even thought he had a chance after their falling out, so he never gave it another thought. Besides, even if modern times was more accepting of it, he came from a time where same-sex relationships were frowned upon. It took him a while back then to accept himself and it’d only take longer for him to feel comfortable if he entered one of those relationships.

He sighed, glancing over at Peter. The young teenager was uneasy as his eyes stayed on (Y/n). Understandably so, his long time crush is standing in front of him and apparently, they were in a relationship.

Peter’s heart was racing. It almost felt like he was about to have a panic attack but for some reason, standing in the same room as (Y/n) was calming, even with Tasha explaining everything about her universe, the similarities and differences.

(Y/n) turned her head at him, catching him red-handed that he was staring. He never thought he’d be able to see her (e/c) eyes again and all he wanted to do was stare at her. Then she smiled, a sad smile as Tasha compared the Battle of Earth against Thanos, going over his versions of (Y/n) and Tasha Stark’s death, or, well, (Y/n) and Tony.

Peter smiled back but then quickly looked away, remembering how it felt to hold her in his arms as she began drifting away wearing the same exact smile she had right there and then.

He fiddled with his fingers, zoning out from the conversation. It wasn’t until a hand entered his field of vision, grabbing his, that he finally looked up.

“Come on webhead,” (Y/n) murmured, looking between both of his eyes, using the same nickname that his (Y/n) used for him. “Let’s get some fresh air, I think mom and your Steve need to talk about some adult stuff that we aren’t a part of.”

“Uhm,” his gaze glanced over at Tasha who gave him a very familiar nod of approval, “sure.”

“Cool, rooftop then?” she asked, already pulling him away. “I mean, I’m assuming you still hung out with me on the rooftop?”

Peter stared down at their intertwined fingers, not realizing she asked him a question.

“Peter?”

“Oh, yeah, we always hung out on the rooftop.”

She smiled, squeezing his hand and feeling a jolt of electricity flow through him. Peter couldn’t help but think, is this what her Peter always had? A part of him felt like he was betraying his own (Y/n) but she was alive again.

She was here with him.

***

The stars twinkled in the night sky, and as cliche as this phrase is, a little bit brighter that evening since the universe picked the two most beautiful flowers from the garden.

At least, that’s what Peter noticed.

The moonlight shone on (Y/n)’s hair, causing a bit of a glint, and her eyes glimmered with the same intensity as the stars above them. He took this time to memorize every curve of her face, every little twitch she made, any and all of the perfect imperfections. Peter wish he took this time when she was alive, and this was his second chance.

“The stars are the same,” she told him, finally looking back down at him.

“What?”

“The stars, they’re the same where I’m from.”

Peter’s heart ached, remembering that this still wasn’t his (Y/n).

“Oh, right. That’s cool.” He looked up at the night sky, feeling (Y/n)’s eyes burn into the side of his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shift to sit facing towards him.

“I… I’m sorry,” she murmured, looking down at her lap.

“Wh-Why?” Peter turned to face her. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“Well, I just—” (Y/n) tucked a piece of hair behind her ear “—It probably hurts to see me again, right? And it’s probably weird seeing your mentor figure still alive, but identifies as a woman and, I don’t know. You don’t deserve any of this.”

Peter didn’t know how to respond. He’s sure that her Peter would have been more comfortable and would have grabbed her hand and hugged her there and then. But instead he played with his hands, stammering, and trying to find the words to tell her that they weren’t together.

(Y/n) placed her hand on his. Something that was probably a thing she did a lot to comfort him in her world. Something Peter wished could still happen for him in his world.

“We weren’t together, were we?” (Y/n)’s eyes searched his brown eyes for an answer.

He shook his head, looking down and away from her gaze. “No, we-uh, no.”

(Y/n) pursed her lips, deep in thought. “Well, I know in any universe, I’ll always love you. Whether it be in a universe where it’s platonic love or romantic love. And I know ‘love’ is a big word but it’s true.”

Peter felt his chest clench up and his sobs trying to make it’s way through his throat. His mouth twisted with the corner of his lips turning downwards and his eyes began to water.

(Y/n) wrapped her arm around his shoulder and her other around his head, bringing him into her chest as she rested her chin on top of his head. She continually ran her hand through his hair, attempting to calm him down. He slowly placed his arms around her. His fingers grabbed onto her clothes, his knuckles turning white. He was terrified. Terrified that she’d leave from his arms again. So he held her tighter.

“I’m so—I’m so sorry, (Y/n),” Peter’s voice cracked. (Y/n) opened her mouth to say something only to stop. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you or—or your dad. I’m sorry I—I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt. I’m sorry.”

(Y/n) held him a little bit tighter, knowing that he’s telling her everything he wished he could tell his version of herself. So she did exactly what she would do, being the same person as the other her (most likely).

She kissed the top of his head and said softly, “You have nothing to be sorry for Peter. You did everything you could, I’m sure of it. Sometimes we lose people and the best you can do is to move on. I’m sure I would-” (Y/n) stuttered, pausing for a moment “-other me would want you to be happy.”

Peter gripped her a little bit tighter, a little bit closer. He didn’t respond with words. Besides, he just wanted to be in her comfort for a little bit longer.

A few minutes had passed and Peter’s crying had settled down. It was his first breakdown in a while, but it was a much needed cry. He was thankful for that.

“Parker! (Y/n)!” Tasha called out. “Need you back down in the lab!”

The two teenagers pulled apart. Peter wiped away any stray tears and then apologized to (Y/n) about the tear stains on her.

“Eh,” she waved him off, standing up, “it’s fine, don’t be sorry.” (Y/n) held out her hand for Peter and he tenderly took it, bringing himself back up a bit. A jolt of electricity shot through his hand and he almost flinched until his hand was lightly squeezed.

(Y/n) smiled at him and then began walking back down, letting go of his hand. He watched her with a small smile making its way onto his face.

***

(Y/n) lightly jogged into the lab, Peter trailing behind her. She saw her mom standing in the middle surrounded by a series of holograms and Steve standing off to the side.

“What’s going on?” (Y/n) asked. Both adults turned their heads to face the two teenagers.

“We’re planning on figuring out a way to get back home,” Tasha walked through the holograms towards (Y/n). The holograms promptly turned off after she left. “It’s going to take a while and in the meantime, you’re going to need to lay low for a while, stay off the radar.”

“Me? What about you, you’re Natasha Stark.”

“She exists as Tony Stark, remember?” Steve brought up. (Y/n) nodded her head and pursed her lips.

“So I just stay here? Don’t people outside the Avengers still work here too though? They’ll see me.”

“Right,” Tasha pointed at (Y/n), wiggling her finger, “we talked about that. Remember the cabin Steve and I—our Steve—built? By the lake?”

“Yeah, the one you raised Maria in.”

“You’ll be staying there. With Pepper.”

“We already talked to her and she’s fine with you staying.” Steve said.

“Pepper? Why’s Pep there?”

Tasha raised her brows and pulled her mouth into a tight line. “Tony, other me, he married Pep. Had a kid, her name’s Morgan.”

“Oh shit, is Morgan going to—will she…” (Y/n) trailed off, looking back and forth from her mom, Steve, and Peter.

“She knows of you, but she never met you,” Peter told her. “She’s still really young.”

“Another little sister, okay, sure.”

***

The cabin was exactly how it was from her universe. The lake in the distance, glistening from the early morning sun. The little port extending into the water. The bit of light peeking through the branches. It was home.

But not hers.

Steve drove (Y/n) to the cabin, leaving Tasha to continue working on a new device alongside Bruce Banner and Shuri. Both of them were taken aback when seeing Tony alive again, but as a presenting woman. Bruce definitely had his fair share of emotions to see his friend alive again, even if they weren’t exactly how he remembered them. It didn’t matter how his friend presented themself as, as long as Tony, or Tasha really, was alive.

Peter was situated in the back of the car, he was going to help (Y/n) out on situating herself in a somewhat different world. And to help Pepper and even Morgan, who had shed a few tears after learning she’d never get to meet her older sister, see (Y/n) again.

“So, Steve,” (Y/n) asked, turning her head towards her. “Since you’re obviously not with my mom, or dad I guess, who are you with?”

Steve eyed her from the corner of his eye and chuckled. “You know, you and Natasha were always trying to set me up with someone. After my relationship with Sharon went south and all.”

“Sharon?!” (Y/n) nearly slammed her hand down on the armrest when turning her entire body to face Steve. “As in the former Agent 13?” Steve raised a brow at her, almost worried. She maneuvered her body back front as he came to stop in front of the house. “That’s crazy.”

“Yeah, and believe it or not, I was about to go back in time and stay with Peggy.” Steve turned off the car and the three occupants got out of the car. Peter went to grab his belongings and (Y/n) stood there staring at the cabin.

“That’s weird Steve.” she frowned, after putting some thought into it. “What made you stay?”

Steve took in a breath, his brows furrowed ever so slightly. His eyes went towards Peter, who was still grabbing things from the trunk, and then back towards the cabin where he could see Pepper cooking and Morgan with Happy on the couch through the windows.

“I don’t know,” Steve finally replied, letting out his breath. But (Y/n) knew better. From his gaze at Tasha, to even the memorials they’ve passed of Tony Stark, to how Steve’s been taking care of her, Peter, and clearly even Tony’s family here and there.

(Y/n) walked to the back of the car, wondering why Peter was taking so long. He shut the trunk with a slam before she could get there and she jumped.

“Oh, sorry,” he murmured, rearranging the bags he carried.

She rushed over to him, grabbing one of his bags. “It’s fine, let’s go in then?” (Y/n) looked over at Steve who stood there. “You coming in?”

Steve shook his head. “No, I’ll probably head back to the facility, see how your mom’s doing.”

“Sure, do you mind passing on a message for me then?” Steve shook his head in response. “Tell her if she told Steve—our Steve—about this, this wouldn’t have happened. Or at least, he’d know where we’d maybe be.”

Steve arched a brow but before he could say anything (Y/n)’s attention went back to Peter who still seemed weary around her. He watched them go up the porch and knock on the door.

(Y/n) could tell Peter was still nervous. Or rather, he was unsettled by her presence. He didn’t know she knew, but he should have expected much. If this (Y/n) was in a relationship with him in another universe, surely she knew him like the back of her hand.

And she did.

“You don’t have to be so nervous, ya webhead.” (Y/n) lightly nudged the side of his head with her free hand. Peter noticeably relaxed, his muscles loosening and the grip he had on his bags didn’t make his knuckles as white. He stared at her. His gaze jumping back and forth between both of her eyes as if he was searching for something.

“Yeah, sorry, I just—I’m still getting used to this situation we’re in,” Peter said.

(Y/n) chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, what are the odds this happens to me and to my mom and to your universe.”

The two teenagers exchanged glances, a small smirk on (Y/n)’s face. “One in fourteen million?” They both said at the same time, laughing lightly.

“God, remember waking up and I was like, ‘Strange if this isn’t the—’”

“‘—future we win, I’m killing you.’” Peter finished for (Y/n). The two laughed, reminiscing on a shared memory across their universes.

“Man, what’s taking Pep so long?” (Y/n) wondered, knocking once more. The door flushed open to an exhausted Pepper Potts-Stark with a young girl behind her legs, Happy standing behind the two of them. Pepper stared at (Y/n) who smiled and did a small wave at her.

To (Y/n), Pepper was Aunt Pepper.

But to this Pepper, (Y/n) was her daughter.

So she clasped a hand on her mouth, walking slowly towards (Y/n) with one hand reaching for her. Her face was pained as she choked out on saying (Y/n)’s name.

Pepper set a hand on (Y/n)’s cheek. The younger girl placed her hand on top.

“Hi, uhm,” (Y/n) stuttered out, about to call her Aunt Pepper but remembering what Steve mentioned earlier. Pepper was her mother figure in this universe. “I called you mom a lot, didn’t I?”

Pepper pulled her hand back quickly, realizing this wasn’t her (Y/n). “I’m sorry you’re—I’m not, uh, come in, come in.” She stepped off to the side, letting the two teenagers in. Morgan watched and Happy stood there not saying anything.

(Y/n) dropped Peter’s bag to the side. As Pepper shut the door (Y/n) walked over towards her and enveloped her into a hug.

“I’m sorry I’m not exactly your (Y/n), but I’m still (Y/n),” she murmured in the hug. “I can still call you mom if you want.”

Pepper pulled back, keeping her within arm’s reach with her hands on her shoulders. “No, it’s fine.” She wiped away a few of her tears. “It’s just, wow. I thought my life wouldn’t be as crazy now that Tony’s gone. But it’s as if it’s just getting crazier. Who am I to you? In your universe?”

“Aunt Pepper,” (Y/n) said. “And we’d go out all the time because my mom, uhm Natasha Stark, she’d get too crazy or overwhelming for the two of us. You and Happy-” she gestured towards the man who was grabbing Peter’s things (that was a surprise to her) to put into a guest room “-took care of me when she was kidnapped. And when my mom built you your suit ‘Just in case’ and you wore it to the battle, we fought side-by-side with my mom and we were like a dynamic trio of women in tin cans. Uncle Rhodey, of course, got offended he wasn’t invited to the party.”

Pepper laughed, remembering Rhodey making a few remarks that eventful battle. Morgan pulled on Pepper’s leg, asking to be carried and (Y/n) watched her pick the small girl up. She reminded her a lot of Maria but (Y/n) knew this was a different sister of hers. Maria Stark-Rogers didn’t exist in this universe.

“Hi, Morgan right?” (Y/n) asked, recalling what Steve informed her on. “I have a little sister I think you would have gotten along with very well.” (Y/n) waited for her to respond only to purse her lips when Morgan held onto Pepper a bit tighter.

“She’s been more quiet since Tony died,” Pepper informed her.

(Y/n) nodded, “That makes sense. I was pretty quiet and upset when my mom was kidnapped.”

Pepper chuckled, “I remember that.”

The two of them continued their small talk as Peter went off to find Happy. He walked up the stairs to where he saw the older man go up to but found him leaning against the doorframe to what was (Y/n)’s room.

The floor beneath Peter’s foot creaked and Happy turned around, wiping away the tears in his eyes.

“Oh, it’s just you,” Happy said.

“You okay Happy?” Peter asked. Happy opened his mouth, then closed it, thinking about what he wanted to say to the young boy.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I mean, seeing her again, after everything that’s happened…” Happy trailed off, remembering the nights Peter would sometimes call him after the trip to Europe about the hallucinations Quentin had put him through.

“Yeah, I mean…” Peter bit his lip, playing with his hands again. “No, I don’t know. It’s weird to see her again, alive. And Hap, in her universe we’re, we’re dating.”

If it was possible, Happy’s face softened even more. The two of them were in this together. But Happy knew that he needed to be the one to be there for Peter.

“Well, then maybe this is the universe giving you a chance to tell her everything and to give you a few more moments with her.”

“But,” he frowned, “isn’t that weird? Would that mean she’s cheating on me… with me?”

Happy sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. “That’s not what I meant.”

***

It took a lot of time for adjustment for everyone to see people who used to be dead to be alive and for one of them to look different but act the same. It took Pepper a lot of time to come to terms that in another universe, she isn’t Tony’s wife. Rather, she was actually more of an ex-girlfriend and it made her wonder if her Tony would have done something different if he could.

That is, until Tasha reassured her that the reason for these alternate universes were small little changes, and that she, or he, married Pep for a reason.

(Y/n) spent a lot of time with Peter and Morgan. Of course, she’d go out with Pepper, Happy, Rhodey, and anyone she was close to in this universe that was willing to spend time with her before she had to go back. But they all made sure Peter got the most of it, along with Morgan.

For the first time in a long time, Peter looked happy and Morgan finally got to meet her older sister.

Peter laughed, holding Morgan on his shoulders with his hands clasped on her ankles, running behind a tree. (Y/n) pretended to look in the distance with her eyes squinting. She raised her hand to her forehead mock-searching for the two.

Morgan giggled and Peter peeked over the side of the tree for Morgan to see (Y/n).

“Now where did they go?” she mused. “Maybe I should take a break by that tree over there.” She slowly trekked over towards the tree Peter and Morgan hid, pretending to look under rocks.

Peter burst into a sprint past (Y/n). Morgan’s laughter filled the air and (Y/n) stood there for a second watching them run away. She started into a jog after them, calling their names, when she felt a jolt run up her prosthetic leg and she collapsed onto the ground.

Peter turned around, mid-laughter, when he saw her on the ground, clutching her leg.

“(Y/n)!” He quickly put Morgan down on the ground and ran towards her. He fell to his knees beside her, hands hovering over her leg trying to see what was going on.

“It’s my leg,” (Y/n) hissed. “Malfunctioning, I think. Ah, fuck!”

“Okay, okay, uh, let’s get you to the lab first.” Peter slowly picked her up bridal style, careful not to hurt her. (Y/n) wrapped her arms around his neck, her teeth clenching as she felt the phantom pain and the malfunctioning of the synthetic nerves in her prosthetic.

Peter dashed to the house, Morgan already keeping the door open for them.

“Thanks Mo,” (Y/n) said, trying not to show her pain. She gave her a smile and a wink before Pepper came into view.

“Oh my God, (Y/n)! Are you okay?” Pepper’s words came out in a flurry and Peter rushed down the stairs into the basement of the cabin where the lab was.

“Yeah, I’m fine! I just—ow, fucking shit!” (Y/n) threw her head back and began to bite on her lower lip. She began to taste iron in her mouth as Peter set her down on one of the tables. “FRIDAY, contact Tasha Stark to come by. Peter, you’re gonna need to take off my leg.”

“Yeah, easy, this is fine.” Peter ran around the lab, grabbing the necessary tools and FRIDAY put up the holographic diagnosis of malfunctions for Peter to read.

(Y/n) lay there in pain, gripping the flesh part of her leg. Lucky her, she was wearing shorts that day.

Peter was quickly by her side, tapping on the holograms in front of him then looking back down and immediately getting the leg off of her. In an instant, the pain subsided and (Y/n) let out a breath of relief. She closed her eyes.

Her muscles relaxed as she set her head back down on the table and letting her hands rest on her stomach. Pepper stood at the head of the table and pushed (Y/n)’s hair out of her face. Sweat gathered at the sides of her forehead from all the pain.

“You feeling better (Y/n)?” Peter asked. (Y/n) nodded, not having enough energy to say anything. “Good, I’ll see what I can do with your leg and leave the rest to Ms. Stark.”

Pepper’s hands stroked her hair slowly, (Y/n)’s eyebrows relaxed and the lines on her forehead disappeared. Unbeknownst to Pepper, in (Y/n)’s world, Pepper had done this for her a lot especially when Tasha had been kidnapped.

Morgan’s head peeped from the edge of the table and her hand reached out to touch (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“She’s resting, Morgan,” Pepper said softly to her. Her mouth went into the shape of an ‘o’ as she murmured an apology and then set her hands on the edge of the table.

(Y/n) turned her head, opening her eyes and looked over at Morgan.

“Hey, Morguna, sorry we had to stop playing,” (Y/n) grunted as she sat up and maneuvered towards the girl. She ignored Pepper’s protests and went to grab Morgan and set her on her other leg.

“It’s okay,” Morgan replied, staring at the stub. “It’s not your fault.” (Y/n) looked down at what she was staring at.

“Do you want to know what happened?” Morgan nodded her head. “Well-” she shifted the girl on her leg “-you know what happened with the big bad Titan, Thanos, right? It was after half the universe came back and mom—I mean—our dad, was fighting Thanos. And I saved him. He got really mad but lucky for me, we won the fight and was able to get me help. I lost my leg but I’m here now!”

Peter had stopped working by the end of the story, remembering that day but knowing it didn’t go exactly like how (Y/n) said it did. Not in this universe. He never had the heart to tell her how she died in this universe.

“But, you’re not from here, are you?” Morgan asked. (Y/n) exchanged a worried glance with Pepper until Peter saved the day.

“Okay!” Peter held (Y/n)’s prosthetic leg and all heads turned to him. “Your leg should be fixed up but we’ll need to test it out a bit.”

Pepper reached over to pick up Morgan, “Alright, we should get out of your guys’ hairs.”

(Y/n) watched them leave and then looked over at Peter. “That was a close one.” She laughed lightly and Peter chuckled.

“Yeah, she’s smart for her age.” Peter walked over towards her with her leg. (Y/n) sat on the edge of the table and Peter knelt down, slowly placing her leg back on. With a click and a hiss, Peter smiled. He stood back up and looked at (Y/n) who was way closer to her than he thought. Her eyes soft, staring at him.

“Thank you, Peter.”

His eyes flickered down to her lips and she was about to lean in when she pulled back fast. Her lips were pursed and she looked down. Tasha came rushing in and down the stairs, frantic.

“(Y/n), holy shit, you’re okay.”

Peter took a few steps back and away from (Y/n), crossing his arms and glancing at the stairs. He saw Steve enter the room as Tasha was examining her daughter’s leg.

Steve gave him a smile and a nod. Peter waved at him. His eyes moved from (Y/n) then back to Steve, finally deciding to talk to the older man.

(Y/n)’s eyes stayed on Peter as he walked over to Steve. The two exchanged a few words and then went up the stairs looking like they wanted to talk in private.

“Was something going on between the two of you?” Tasha asked, staring at the empty space where the other two stood. Her eyes then met (Y/n)’s who sucked in a breath through her teeth.

“I mean, technically,” she raised her brows. Tasha narrowed her eyes at her. “Okay, I know, I know. Yes, there was, kinda, but I mean he’s also still Peter. But I know, I won’t do anything. It’s just, I don’t know. It’s weird.”

Tasha scoffed, “Yeah, it is weird. Trust me. But also, it’s a good thing nothing’s going on between you two. Not ‘cause of the weird, philosophical thing of is there any difference in our Peter, but because Bruce, Shuri, and I figured it out. We’re going home.”

(Y/n) stared at her wide-eyed. “What?!”

“Yeah, Steve and I were on our way here when FRIDAY called me.”

“Damn.” There was a beat. “And we found how to get to our exact universe?”

“Yup,” Tasha said, popping the ‘p’. “We should say bye to everyone.”

“Already?”

Tasha nodded. “Our universe only aligns with this universe to allow travel every month or so, and we’ve been here for a month already.”

(Y/n) sighed, hopping off the table. “Okay, let me just say bye to Morgan and Pep then.”

Tasha wrapped an arm around her and the two walked up. Steve was talking to Peter and Pepper and their heads turned to the two Starks.

Pepper wore a sad smile on her face, “So you’re leaving?”

“Yeah.” (Y/n)’s face reflected hers. She rushed forward, hugging the older woman and Pepper held her tight. She felt tears fall on her face and (Y/n) pulled back, Pepper wiping her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m a mess,” Pepper laughed.

“It’s okay, I’ll miss you a lot, tell Happy I said bye and that everything’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

“Of course, and don’t give other-me too much trouble,” she warned.

“No promises.” Tasha walked from behind (Y/n), going to say her goodbyes to Pepper as well. So (Y/n) went off to find Morgan who was sitting in her room on the small table, playing with a tea set and stuffed animals.

(Y/n) sat beside her. “I’ll be going now, I just want to say goodbye.”

“Will you be coming back?”

(Y/n)’s heart broke and she reached over to Morgan, stroking her cheek with the back of her fingers. “No, I don’t think I will be. But I can try, maybe?”

“If you try, then I guess I’ll let you go.”

(Y/n) raised a brow then laughed. “So I wouldn’t be able to leave without your permission?”

“Nope, daddy didn’t leave with mine and now mommy says he’s with you but that’s not true either.”

“Well, it’s kinda true.”

(Y/n) sighed and Morgan got out of her chair to hug her. Despite her small figure, her hug was tight. (Y/n) hugged back, nuzzling her face into Morgan’s hair.

“I love you lots, okay?”

“I love you three thousand,” Morgan mumbled into (Y/n)’s shoulder.

A knock on the door frame grabbed (Y/n)’s attention and there stood Peter. He motioned that it was time to go and then Morgan pulled away.

“Be good, okay?” (Y/n) kissed her cheek and stood up to leave. “You coming with?” She gestured towards the bags in the hall.

“Oh, yeah, May wants me back plus I can just say bye to you back at HQ.”

“Solid.”

(Y/n) grabbed one of his bags, much to his protests, and began walking back towards the others.

***

(Y/n) stood in front of the device, Bruce and Shuri standing by the controls flipping switches and typing in coordinates. Tasha was talking to Steve, saying a few goodbyes (among other things) and (Y/n) figured this would be a good time, the only time, to say one last thing to Peter.

She turned to Peter who was also staring at the device.

“Um,” she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “About earlier, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Oh, no, no, it’s fine that was… also my fault.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck.

“So—” They both said at the same time, then laughing.

“You first.” Peter motioned towards her.

“Thank you… For spending time with me even though you didn’t have to. I know it probably triggered some memories for you but you still did it anyways. I don’t think I would’ve survived this past month without you.” (Y/n) grabbed one of his hands, stroking the back of it with her thumbs. Something of comfort that she had done with him long before they dated, in her world.

“It was nothing. I-um. If anything, it helped me a lot,” he gripped his hand on hers. “Closure and all. I—I know you’re not my (Y/n)? But, I feel like I need to get this off my chest, like I should have before—before…” His gaze turned downward and (Y/n) squeezed his hand, reassuring him. His head snapped back up to her and she smiled.

“It’s okay.”

“I—uh—I really like you. A lot. You make me smile a lot, and you’re like a ball of sunshine. Ray of sunshine, I mean. Ball? What.”

“Pete,” (Y/n) giggled.

“Right,” he laughed nervously. “You’re an amazing hero and person who works hard. Your laughter is like music and I just—I really like you. And I wish I told you all of this sooner and there’s so much more I have to say but I can’t remember and I just. I really like you.”

Out of the corner of their eyes, they saw the interdimensional device begin to work and Tasha motioning towards them that they had to get going. (Y/n) nodded to her mom before turning back to Peter.

“I like you a lot too, webhead. I know the me in this universe did too. And I know the me in this universe will want you to move on and to be happy. So let yourself be happy. It’s okay to be selfish sometimes.” (Y/n) stood on her toes and kissed him on his cheek. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Peter nodded, swallowing as he held back his tears. “You too. Try to visit, if you can.”

(Y/n) nodded and hugged him. Peter relished her embrace and held on tight before Tasha came up to them. (Y/n) pulled away and smiled at Peter then took a few steps back.

Tasha set a hand on his shoulder. “Look, kid, I know I’m not your Tony but I’m still, Toni. You’re doing a good job, and I know he’s proud of you. If you can, keep being the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, capiche?”

“Yeah, got it.”

Tasha smiled, pulling him in for a hug then pulling back.

“Since when were we there?” Peter joked.

Tasha smirked, shaking her head. “Always were, kid.”

With that being said, Tasha walked over towards the device besides (Y/n). Bruce gave them the ‘okay’ and before they headed through they both gave everyone one last glance, then taking a step in.

***

Tasha and (Y/n) was met with a messy lab, an exhausted Steve Stark-Rogers with his hand on his face, a sleeping Peter Parker with Maria in his arms, a Bruce slumped over a desk, and Shuri who walked in with her cup of coffee.

“Oh, shit!” Shuri dropped the coffee on the ground, splashing it everywhere. Steve jumped in his seat, knocking everything around him. Bruce fell out of his seat and Peter groaned, waking up while Maria rubbed her eyes.

“Tasha.”

“(Y/n)!”

The two boys got up abruptly, Peter holding Maria in his arms still, and ran towards them, hugging them. (Y/n) and Tasha laughed as they hugged them back. Maria stayed in Peter’s arm, looking between (Y/n) and Tasha.

“Group hug!” she yelled. The four of them looked at each other then at the small girl.

“Group hug?” (Y/n) asked. Steve laughed, wrapping an arm around Peter then pulling him, which in turn pulled her into a hug. Maria stayed in the middle of it as they all stayed there hugging, like a small happy family.

Shuri and Bruce watched, exchanging glances with each other.

Bruce cleared his throat, taking off his glasses. “Where were you guys?”

Tasha poked her head out, looking over at Bruce. “Alternate dimension.”

“What?” Peter asked, excitement flowing through him. “Another universe?! Does this mean in one universe Star Wars could be real? Or instead, (Y/n) had spider powers instead of me?” He continued to ramble and (Y/n) and Tasha could only laugh.

Steve stared down at all of them, a smile very apparent on his face. In due time they’d tell everything but for right now, he just wanted to keep them all safe in his arms.

a/n: So Tasha and Steve named their kid Maria after Tasha’s mom. Just an fyi. If enough people like this, I might make this a mini series. The mini-series would just explore the 3490 universe on (Y/n)’s relationship with Peter, Tasha, Steve, and the other members of the Iron Family. I’m thinking about writing the civil war version along with a Homecoming/IW/Endgame version. And maybe I’ll write the other universe where both (Y/n) and Tony die.

#peter parker x stark!reader #tony stark x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x oc #peter parker imagine #steve rogers x platonic!reader #earth 3490 #earth-3490 #natasha stark #toni star #two worlds one path to happiness series #a.writes

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