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tinyyoungblood · 3 years

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how ab a headcanon where the avengers all take a trip either to disney world or on a disney cruise? i’m a whore for the idea of everyone, especially peter and y/n, just acting like kids again

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

a/n: i like this prompt so much!! i’ve never been to disneyland, but i hope this is accurate enough lol. i also turned this into a vlog bc someone had to record this mess and since it can’t be me, i’m giving filming privileges to bruce

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the avengers in disneyland

everyone is very very excited and the days before they leave pass in a flurry of excitement, but peter has never been to disneyland, so he’s THRILLED beyond means

peter’s jumping up and down while everyone’s loading the van and he keeps asking them if they’re ready for this “life-changing field trip?????”

sam is genuinely afraid that if peter jumps any higher he will bounce off earth, so he grabs peter by the middle and carries him horizontally into the car

steve gave a whole lecture on not getting lost the day before and since tony couldn’t resist it, he is dressed head to toe in neon yellow and grinning cockily

nat steps into the van, sees him, and turns around with her hand over her eyes like she’s been blinded

bruce brings his video camera with him and records everything. first thing they do is hit up a gift shop and it is better than any oscar nominated movie

everything they pick up is subjected to a thorough label reading and some kind of commentary

“steve, show them what you’re getting!!” “slippers” “what kind of slippers” “uh...soft”

thor on the other hand takes it very serious and his commentary ends up being very ~shakespearean~

peter and y/n get matching friendship bracelets for everyone

loki: “i’m not wearing that”

y/n: “that’s alright-“

loki: “no tie it on for me”

bucky wouldn’t have come along if it weren’t for steve and sam, but now he’s taking it upon himself to make sure that everyone stays in good condition so they don’t miss out on training

the whole team gets hourly text messages from him in the group chat

bucky: “There’s a water leak in Mickey’s Toontwon. If any of you slip and hurt yourselves I will kill you.”

y/n: “love you too buck”

(they know it’s his way to express his love for them so every message almost makes them tear up)

loki really wants to go on splash mountain but since he doesn’t want to get his clothes wet, he asks the guards how ~splashy~ splash mountain gets

they don’t take him seriously and it infuriates loki because it’s a perfectly reasonable question but it quickly turns into a passionate argument that holds up the entire line

“I DEMAND TO KNOW HOW HIGH THE RISK OF GETTING WET IS, YOU INCOMPETENT FOO—”

*cue y/n and nat dragging him away while bruce runs after them to zoom in on loki’s pouty glare*

they get him a green rain poncho with black polka dots from one of the gift shops, and he’s still glowering but he puts it on without protest before each ride that involves water

normally the avengers would easily get recognised but since everyone is walking around in costumes, people approach them for several other reasons

thor is just peacefully standing in life, staring at the incredicoaster like it’s the love of his life, when a little kid tugs at his cape

“excuse me sir, why are you so tall?” “good question, why are you so short?” “hmm” “hmm”

they find a micky mouse whac-a-mole and everyone is having Fun but something possesses tony and clint and they are really going for it

tony is a 5 foot tall ball of stress and competitiveness and he is yielding that plastic hammer like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do

clint on the other hand is starting to feel the numbness in his arms

y/n, with sarcasm: “you can do it, clint!”

clint, with spite: “i cannot do it, thanks”

*y/n stares into the camera*

they also make up a rule that if you are in a 5 meters radius of one of the theme park characters, you HAVE to snap a picture with them

steve, who gets constantly shoved nudged by bucky into some character’s path, ends up taking a picture with almost every single disneyland character

at some point, he’s just downright sick of it and there’s a 7 min video of steve zooming across the lot while goofy and woody run after him with wide open arms

bucky is doubled over with laughter in the background while sam is standing beside him and wiping away his own tears

the avengers also buy all the pictures that are taken of them on the rides and even stop at some photo booths so they can send them to wanda and vision who are both vacationing on hawai’i <3

thor, peter, and y/n run themselves ragged and their legs almost give out but they will not stop until they have been on every ride that disneyland has to offer

the others think it’s obnoxious but they follow and join them without hesitation

tony is secretly trembling with fear. doing loops in the air at the speed of light is fine and so is battling aliens, but getting on a rollercoaster ride is just heart-stopping horrifying

it’s not that he doesn’t like rollercoasters, (that man has no self-preservation skills, anything that resembles plummeting to death will be gazed at with big heart eyes) but he just doesn’t trust them

if he didn’t build it or prove it, he doesn’t trust it. period. but the avengers are just so excited and happy that he can’t find it in him to sit out

that quickly results in thor and tony re-enacting very impressive Shouting Contests on each ride without fail

tony is screaming and clinging onto whoever is sitting next to him for dear life because he’s Petrified™️

and thor is screaming, because he’s having The Time Of His Life

he’s feeling the wind in his hair, his heart in his throat, and if he’s not shredding his vocal chords and flinging his limbs around, what’s the point of it all

after 20 different rides, tony is sick of pretending and just trudges through disneyland, the happiest place of earth, like it’s the sole cause of all suffering in the world

nat rejoins the group after she mysteriously disappeared for a moment and her hair is tossed, there’s ash on her face, and half of her clothes are wet

bruce, startled: “where have you been??”

nat, beaming: “there was a ride that spat fire from all sides and people jumped out of nowhere to scare you while the whole place was filled with hot water!!!”

bruce, concerned, zooms in on nat’s excited face

“nat i think you went to hell”

sam is big on merry-go-rounds so he drags everyone with him and while some one them first don’t seem to enjoy it, they change their mind once they see bucky’s little smile

(they go on at least ten more rounds until it starts to get dizzy)

a little girl trips over her princess gown and falls close to where steve is waiting in line, and steve immediately abandons his spot to rush over

bruce zooms in on them bc steve has always been kinda awkward with kids, but here he is, crouching down and comforting that little girl, and it’s so unashamedly soft and sweet

they can’t hear what steve is saying but she’s BEAMING now and even giving him a wobbly courtesy while he claps proudly

bruce turns the camera around and both he and clint are lowkey in TEARS like “why are we crying?? we didn’t even fall down” “i KNOW!!”

nat gets a hold of the camera and she’s on a mission to get the most embarrassing greatest footage possible

“bucky, go stand next to moana” “why?” “it’s moana go stand over there” “but i don’t know-“ “bucky.” *cue bucky, awkwardly standing next to moana while nat grins broadly*

when he’s back with the team, sam just stares at him blank-faced, clearly waiting for bucky to ask why he’s looking at him

eventually bucky caves in with a long sigh

“what” “i can’t believe you don’t know who moana of montunui is. she restored BALANCE to the WORLD. put some RESPECT ON HER NAME”

no one knows why but there’s footage of y/n, thor, tony, and loki strutting up and down in the middle of the lane in minnie mouse plush shoes like it’s a catwalk

sam, bucky, and nat are holding up their fingers to score them while steve is staring at them like he’s analysing their fighting stances

bruce, clint, and peter are standing on the sidelines and cheering them on as they should be

they end their day by digging into an unholy amount of fries that even steve can’t resist because they’ve been walking the whole day

a questionable amount of cotton candy also end ups in their possession and the footage of that is just mostly everyone trying out each other’s cones while the camera is passed between them

soon after, the avengers are back in their van to drive home and bruce zooms in on the row of seats where y/n has her head on peter’s shoulder while the others are also half-lounging on each other, and everyone is asleep <3

* * *

guess what i’m about to say?

stay hydrated pals

hc masterlist

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 11 (NSFW)

Masterlist

IT’S THE MOMENT YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR BESTIES! Thanks as always to @acollectionofficsandshit I think I broke her with this chapter! She also found the song for this chapter so special thanks for that as well ❤

Word Count: 7.6k

Recommended song: “The Man Who Can’t be Moved” by the Script

The steam of the shower cleanses your senses and washes away the sweat from your workout. Crisp September air rushes through the open window and raises goosebumps on your skin as you step out. You turn off the tap and wrap yourself in a fluffy towel in an attempt to ward off the chill. A glance at the clock tells you that you have a half hour to get ready before your date picks you up.

Peter was one of the few guys in your major that paid you any attention. Most of them tolerated you at best but it had never bothered you. You were independent enough that you could make it through class on your own and google what you didn’t understand afterward and learn it before the exam.

It had been fairly easy to fall in with Peter and a few others during the first few weeks of summer classes. What began with group study sessions and quickly developed into hanging out one on one with Peter on the weekends to go to coffee shops or play video games.

When Peter had asked you out two months ago, Pierre's voice nagged in the back of your head. He asked if you were ready to move on from him and if you could really forget him.

The simple answer was no, forgetting him was impossible. No matter how many years passed, he would always own a part of you.

Peter was sweet and he cared about you but you were quickly realizing the bond you shared with him didn't run as deep as it had with Pierre. He started as your friend and you really didn't feel right letting it develop past that. Although you had agreed to that date and plenty more in the time since, it still didn’t feel like a relationship. You had to stop yourself from imagining someone else's arm around you when you lounged on the sofa or someone else's lips kissing you goodnight.

You slip into a form fitting red cocktail dress and sweep your hair over a shoulder, banishing the memory. The person staring back at you in the mirror is a stranger, a ghost of who you once were. You pull your lips into a smile nowhere near as bright as it was months ago.

A knock on your apartment door startles you from your trance. Peter holds a bouquet of flowers, a broad grin on his face. He was handsome in a traditional sense, with a sharp jawline and playful forest green eyes that promised a good time. He was adventurous; a night in wasn’t in the cards. Everything was an event with him and you didn’t mind the distractions one bit.

"You look amazing as always," he says, stepping inside and kissing your cheek. You sniff the flowers lightly. Daisies were some of your least favorite flowers but the gesture was too sweet to point that out.

"So do you," you respond, gaze sweeping from his scuffed wingtip shoes to his crisp blue button down shirt. Ocean blue, washed out against Peter's pale skin, but would have looked perfect on Pierre's golden complexion.

You had to stop thinking about him. You saw him everywhere. On more than one occasion, you dropped out of a conversation when you caught a glimpse of blond hair bobbing through a crowd or heard a laugh startlingly similar to his. You couldn’t escape the idea of him whether you liked it or not.

"Are you okay?" Peter asks, touching your elbow.

God, you were so far from okay. Your mind was a melted mess of memories of a blond Frenchman and all the broken promises between the pair of you. This was pointless. You were wasting your time with Peter. He was great and should have been everything you wanted but he just wasn't enough.

"I'm so sorry," you start, handing back the flowers. "I don't think this is going to work."

"Oh thank god," he says, shoulders drooping as he runs a hand through his hair. "I've been thinking the same thing, I just didn't want to be the one to say it." You both laugh, the tension ebbing from your frame.

"Don't get me wrong," he continues, "You're amazing. There's just no…"

"Spark," you finish. "Yeah, I agree. Friends?"

You stick out your hand and he shakes it firmly. "Sounds like a plan. No hard feelings. See you in class on Monday?"

"I'll be there."

You slip out of your heels with a sigh, glad you don't have to endure that form of torture any longer. For the first time in months, you allow yourself to scroll through Pierre's Instagram.

Instead of being flooded with personal pictures it had become mostly posed shoots.it was the kind of thing that seemed staged, like he was only posted because his PR team deemed it necessary.

As time went on the content became more and more clinical. He was giving fans less of an insight into his personal life and focusing on racing content. You knew he had probably thrown everything he had into the season in an attempt to move on and you couldn't blame him.

If his Insta was to be believed, he had earned a handful of podiums in the four months since you had mostly lost interest in the sport. After Austin it had been nearly impossible to watch a full race and you had instead been getting your biased updates from Max, who conveniently left out all but the barest details of anyone’s race weekend but his own.

There was no point in trying to convince yourself you no longer felt anything for Pierre. Just scrolling through his page reignites the flame in your chest that had been burning far too dimly for far too long.

Heart pounding, you double tap a photoset of him modeling for Alpha Tauri, the lighting accenting his eyes. Their distinct, rich blue had always been your weakness.

Your fingers find their way to the charm at your throat. You hadn't taken it off once since the gala. It was pointless to deny the sway he still held over you all these months later. Maybe it was time you stopped pretending you were fine and finally give in to the pull.

The past few months have given you plenty of time to reflect. The media would hound you like dogs but at least while you were in London they would leave your family alone. And really, enduring their scrutiny was a small price to pay if it meant loving Pierre.

“I’m an idiot,” you mumble, pulling up his contact in your phone. Breaking up with him had been the dumbest decision of your life. You’d watched him from afar as he traveled from grand prix to grand prix, touring cities and sleeping everywhere except where he belonged: curled up next to you in your tiny London flat, whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you both fell asleep.

You couldn’t bear it any longer. Fuck what anyone would say. Nothing could be worse than knowing your soulmate was out there and you let him go.

Heart pounding, you type out a text. I miss you.

Shaking your head, you erase it. How are you? Seemed more appropriate.

"Here goes nothing," you murmur and hit send.

**********

It started off as any other free Sunday did: Charles and Charlotte arriving at his apartment carrying snacks and beer which neither of them would tell their trainers about tomorrow and plopping in front of the television to watch the PSG match.

The trio roared at the screen at poor calls and yelled when a goal was scored, all completely lost in the sport.

Pierre absently registers his phone buzzing during the last few minutes of the match but ignores it. PSG comes out on top and he finally checks it, nearly choking on the pretzels he was eating.

How are you?

Pierre has to read it thrice before he’s convinced it’s real.

"Holy fuck," he says softly, tipping the phone so Charles can see.

"Told you mate." He takes Charlotte's hand and stands. Football match completely forgotten, Pierre lifts a hand in a wave as the couple leaves. His eyes are fixed on the screen as he tries to comprehend the gravity your words carry.

After months of waiting in agony and wondering if you still cared, you’d texted him.

He had no idea how he managed to keep his feet on the floor. He was completely weightless, reading your message over and over again until it sinks in.

He takes the three simple words as permission to finally delve back into your life, immediately scrolling through your instagram to catch up. He double taps every post save for the ones with you and some tall, handsome guy. His stomach twists.

Fuck it. Even if you just wanted to catch up, he'd take it. If you told him you were with someone else and you were happy, he'd learn to live with it. He was starved of you and was prepared to beg for crumbs of your life.

I'm fine. You have time for a phone call?

It was a leap but he acknowledged and accepted the risks.

Yeah. That would be good.

You pick up on the second ring.

"Hey."

Pierre squeezes his eyes shut, pushing back the lump in his throat. Years of memories rush over him in the space of a breath. The shock in your voice when you found out he was a driver for the first time. Your smile and breathless laugh when you met him in the garage in Brazil after his first podium in Formula 1. The tentative glances he had thrown your way for months after he finally accepted that he had begun to fall for you. The way your velvet lips felt when he made a gamble and kissed you for the first time. The drunken lilt of your voice when you told him you loved him that night in London.

Before he can stop it the bad comes rushing back too. The memory of the terror on your face when he let it slip that you were together sends a chill through him. If there was one moment he could change, it wouldn’t be the time he fucked up and lost his seat at Red Bull. It would be to keep his damned mouth shut at that karting track and preserve the bliss of that day and tuck it away in a bulletproof case that he could pull out and look at whenever he wanted.

"Hey you," he manages, silently thanking whoever is listening that he keeps the tremble out of his voice. "Been awhile."

"Yeah," you say sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," he says quickly. "You never need to apologize to me."

You were the last one that needed to apologize for anything. He should be the one beginning for forgiveness. It was his fault you’d panicked. He should have fought harder for you, proved that he could make it work and save you both from months of heartache. But then again, maybe you had moved on. He couldn’t expect you to wait for him forever.

He doesn’t realize he’s been silent for so long until you clear your throat. For the first time he can recall, the silence is thick and heavy with unspoken words. It had always been effortless, the stories and words flowing like a babbling brook between the two of you. Now the confessions on his tongue remain poised there, too terrified to give them the light of day.

"How's your season been?" He’s thankful you break the quiet first but the question makes his stomach sink.

"You haven't been watching?"

"Not really."

"Oh." It made sense that you would distance yourself from him and that was fine, but he couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. "It's been decent. Red Bull wants me to come to Milton for contract discussions this week, actually."

"You're moving back up?"

"Potentially." Horner had only called him earlier that week to discuss the potential of him returning to Red Bull next year. The informal agreement was that if he could make seventh in the championship in a midfield car, they would bump him back for the following season.

It wasn’t a concrete guarantee- that’s why Horner wanted to speak with him in person. He had a year left in his contract and being in a Red Bull meant he would be able to prove his worth to other teams and potentially secure a world championship worthy seat at a team that actually appreciated his talent.

He draws a breath before continuing, "I'll be in London on Monday. You know- if you wanna get together."

You stay silent for a touch too long and he panics. It was too soon. He should have kept his mouth shut because now he’d driven you away again. “Nevermind, forget I said anything-"

"No," you interrupt, "no, I'd love to see you and catch up. I don't have classes on Tuesdays. Have any free time then?"

His eyes slide shut and he exhales. The flack he would undoubtedly catch for shuffling around a few interviews would be worth it to see you. "Yeah. I can swing by your apartment around seven?"

"Okay," you say, a touch of excitement lacing your voice. "I'll make myself presentable."

"I-" he stops himself before the words can slip past his lips. "I'll see you then."

*********

Pierre blows out a breath and adjusts his backpack. He stands at the threshold of your building, keys in hand, unsure if he should let himself in. The dilemma had kept him rooted to the spot for nearly ten minutes now, weighing the pros and cons of his options.

“Hey you, blond fucker.” Pierre whips around and is met by Daniel’s girlfriend glaring up at him from the sidewalk. She tips her head to the side to study him. Apparently he wasn’t the only one that had to cancel plans to be here tonight. “You gonna grow a pair and go up there or just keep staring at the door all day?”

“I’m going,” he grumbles, “are you?”

“Oh, I was going to but clearly whatever you have planned is more important.” Her grin splits her face ear to ear. “About damn time she got ahold of you. I was getting sick of listening to her gripe about you twenty four seven.”

“Didn’t she tell you I was coming by? If you guys have plans I can come back later.”

She waves a hand and dismisses the offer. “Absolutely not. Go get your girl.”

“She’s not-” The glare she cuts him snatches the words from his mouth. She makes a shooing motion before setting off down the sidewalk, munching on whatever snacks were in her shopping bag.

Pierre shakes out his hands and tries to gather the courage to use his key. The hopeless romantic argued that you would expect him to use it because you would know he still had it. The rational side of him butts in to point out that it might catch you off guard if he showed up without warning. He settles on buzzing your unit, your answer fuzzy from the distortion.

"Pierre?"

Even with the warbly static in your voice, his name on your lips is the salvation he’s been dreaming about for months. "Yeah it's me."

"Don't you have a key?"

"I wasn't sure if I should use it."

You don't answer, instead letting the buzz of the electronic lock do the talking. He takes the stairs three at a time, barely winded by the time he reaches the third floor. He doesn't even have to knock, your door swinging open as he steps up. The sight of you knocks the breath from his lungs.

It didn't matter that you were in a simple hoodie and jeans, feet bare and hair swept back in a low bun. You are the most beautiful person he's ever seen and after months apart he nearly falls to his knees then and there to beg for your forgiveness, to get lost in you until two souls became one and he never had to live another second apart from you.

"Are you gonna stand there or do you wanna come in?"

God, he had missed your teasing jabs. His fingers ache for contact with your soft skin and he curls them into a fist to resist the urge. “Coming in,” he says softly, purposefully brushing your arm as he skirts past you. Every inch of him sings from the barely there touch, his soul aching for more.

Just stepping foot into your quaint flat has the weight he had been carrying on his chest for months beginning to ease up. Nothing beat the elation of being back where he belonged, not even spraying champagne from the top step on a podium.

Determined not to scare you off before he could have a proper conversation with you, Pierre opts for falling into the same humor you had used earlier. The corners of his mouth twitch upward. "Is that takeout I smell?"

You nod, your cheeks turning a pale pink. “I got you two orders of beef lo mein. I figured you might be hungry.”

As if summoned, his stomach growls. “Yeah. I haven’t eaten since breakfast."

“Figures,” you say, eyes glinting with mischief as you settle into the plush carpet and pull a takeout box towards you. "I got it from that place across town, the one you liked best." Pierre perches on the edge of the sofa and snags the plastic tray with his name on it, eyes never leaving yours.

Now that you were mere feet from him he found it increasingly difficult to deny himself the relief of kissing you here and now. He wanted to trace his thumb over your lips before replacing it with his own, to slot his mouth over yours until time was nothing and he was no one other than yours.

You clear your throat and drop his gaze first, sending him crashing back to reality. “So, ninth huh? Glad to see you cracked the top ten.”

Pierre scrunches his nose and spears a piece of broccoli. He was shit with chopsticks but you always got a kick out of him fumbling with them. “Not where I’d like to be but I’ll take it. Horner took notice obviously, but I’m not getting my hopes up.”

“I think an invitation to Milton Keynes is enough reason to hope," you say around a mouthful of sticky rice.

This interaction was reason to hope. The fact that you were once again on speaking terms, that things were finally returning to some semblance of normal, was enough for him to believe that one day everything would be back to how it was before. That maybe, just maybe, he could hold you in his arms again and fall asleep to the soundtrack of your heart beating in his ear.

Remembering the guy from your instagram, he scans the room for any sign of a male companion. Finding none, he asks, “How’s your boyfriend?”

It probably would have been a good idea to go about this particular line of questioning with a bit more tact. Inquiring so blatantly betrayed his inner thoughts, laid all his cards on the table. He didn't have it in him to care, not when his world might be turned upside down by your answer.

“Oh, you mean Peter?” You sip your water, seemingly working up the courage to explain. Each moment that the silence dragged on it became more of a physical monster. Pierre could feel it growing until it threatened to sink his claws in him and drag him deeper into the pits of his insecurity.

“If that’s his name, yeah.” Pierre braces himself for whatever comes next, reminding himself to be happy for you no matter what you choose. It would take time but he could put aside what he still felt for you and learn to accept your choice if it meant staying in your life.

You shake your head. “He’s a friend from uni. He’s not my boyfriend. At least not anymore.”

“Oh,” he says, frowning down at his food to cover the way his heart skips. “But he was?”

He had expected you to move on, if he was being honest. No way in hell did you deserve to be as miserable as he had been since you'd left- you deserved all the happiness he couldn't seem to give you and more. And if someone else had been the one to grant you that happiness, he should thank them.

“For a little while,” you say softly, like it would cushion the blow. “It didn’t feel right.”

He was familiar with that feeling. Nothing he did felt right after the break up. Just about the only thing that kept him sane was telling himself that you’d come to your senses sooner or later.

And now that he was here, his world was beginning to right itself.

“Earth to Pierre,” you say teasingly, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “I just- I’ve missed this,” he says, picking at his food.

“What, eating subpar takeout in my tiny apartment?” You laugh and stuff another bite in your mouth. God, you could be so oblivious. It was one of the many things he adored about you.

“I do. I miss doing anything that involves you, actually.”

There it was. His heart laid bare before you for the second time, waiting to see how you would respond. You set down your chopsticks and wipe your lips. His eyes track their movement as you whisper, “I’ve missed you too.”

Four syllables and he melts. It takes all he has to keep himself from sobbing with relief. It was everything he had come here hoping to hear. He couldn’t endure this again, couldn’t lose you for a second time-

“Don’t say that unless you mean it,” he pleads, body thrumming with the need to wrap you in his arms. “Don’t put me through this again unless you’re here to stay.”

He wasn't strong enough to tell you to stop. He would let you wreck him and he would be completely powerless to stop it. He would welcome it if it meant you granting him a sliver of your time. It would ruin him for anyone else but he didn’t have it in him to turn you away.

You rise to your feet and pad around the low table until you’re standing knee to knee, his neck craned up to study your face. You just keep looking at him, the leash on his carefully controlled restraint slipping as he rambles, “Because I can’t take it if you leave me again, I won’t-”

You simply nod, as if that’s all the answer he should need. But it’s not enough. “Tell me,” he pleads. “Tell me you mean it.”

He didn’t care that he was begging. He didn’t care that you had reduced his normally impenetrably stoic mentality to a jumble of you. If he was being honest with himself, you were the light of his life, the reason he pushed so hard for results on track. Everything had gone black and white when you left and racing had been the only thing keeping him from falling apart at the seams. The need to make you proud still propelled him forward even if he'd had no idea if you still cared.

So no, he didn’t care at all that he was practically on his knees. He would grovel at your feet for his entire life if it meant you’d grant him one more day to be with you.

“I mean it,” you murmur and place a hand on his cheek. He draws a shaky breath, leaning into you. Home, home, home, his head screams, acutely aware of every square inch of contact between the two of you.

“I’ve had plenty of time to think about it, and I’ve finally come to terms with it- your lifestyle. If I love you, I have to accept it being public. I have to build myself a shelter to withstand the storm, but I’ll make it big enough for two.”

It takes everything in him to keep from crushing you to his chest and never letting go. He had to ask, had to be certain beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was forever. “Promise me you won’t leave again if things get hard. Promise me we’ll get through whatever they throw at us together.”

“I promise. I’m not afraid anymore,” you murmur. Pierre’s head falls forward to rest on your hip bone, your fingers threading in his hair. “Daniel’s girlfriend helped me see that it doesn’t matter what anyone says. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I haven't been the same since I…”

“Neither have I.” His thumb winds under your shirt to sweep over your soft skin. “You’re safe with me, you know that right? I can protect you from whatever they say and you’re right, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is this-” he finally lets himself look up at you- “what we have. I’ve never stopped loving you, not once.”

Your smile is soft and tentative as you climb into his lap. His hands slide up your sides to pull you closer, refusing to let an inch separate you now that you’d bridged the gap. “I promise I’m not going anywhere. I learned my lesson.”

You lean down to ghost your lips over his brow, his closed eyelids, his nose. He can feel himself reconstructing under your touch, that final piece of the puzzle clicking home after being lost for so long. “I promise that I’m yours until the last star falls from the sky.”

He had lost four months of time with you. He wouldn't allow another second to slip through his fingers.

Anticipating his movements, you meet him halfway. Fireworks explode as his lips finally return home and his world is finally, finally righted. Your nails scratch lightly at the nape of his neck, drawing him impossibly closer as your body moulds against his. He had nearly forgotten how perfectly your curves fit against him after all this time. He was determined to memorize every mountain and valley of you by the night's end.

His hands grip your thighs and he stands. Your arms automatically wind around his neck to keep from falling. He carries you to the kitchen and sets you on the edge of the island, never breaking the kiss. Nothing mattered outside of this apartment; not his career, not any baseless gossip, nothing existed beyond the space where your skin met his.

Pierre pulls back long enough to remove his shirt. Your fingers dance over his skin, relearning the planes of his chest like you had all the time in the world. And you did; he would stay here as long as you let him, reveling in the way you drank up every inch of his body like it was the first time you’d seen it.

“I love you,” you say as he kisses along your jaw.

How many times had he dreamt of you whispering that to him the past four months? How many times had it echoed in his head before a race, taunting him? He could scarcely believe his mind wasn’t playing more tricks on him now. He had to be certain it was real.

“Say it again,” he breathes. “Please. Please, tell me again.”

“I love you,” you repeat, punctuating each word with a kiss. “I love you Pierre, my champion, my heart, my everything.”

Pierre groans against your mouth, knotting his fingers in your hair and tugging your head back to expose your throat. He nips at the soft skin, not caring that he was leaving a trail of tiny marks in his wake. His focus was entirely on the gasps he was dragging from you with each touch, your heels digging into his ass and begging for him to be closer.

"My sweet, kindhearted man," you continue breathlessly. He didn't know if the words were for your benefit or his. "My best friend. My one and only love."

In that moment, you could ask him to bring you a star from the midnight sky and he wouldn't stop until he found a way to make it happen. You could ask for his last dollar and he would hand it to you with a smile on his face, completely enthralled with the way his name sounds on your tongue, professing that you still wanted him as much as he wanted you.

You were his undoing.

“Off,” he growls, tugging at your sweatshirt. You obey instantly and fling it aside, neither of you caring when dishes clatter to the tile floor and undoubtedly break. Your jeans follow suit after he helps you slip out of them. He runs his fingers over the delicate black lace of your bra and panties and pauses to appreciate that you knew exactly where the night would lead.

His cock twitches as you reach between your bodies to run a knuckle over his clothed length. “Your turn.” You undo the button with practiced ease, taking your sweet time as his breath comes in ragged gasps. He’d had a taste of you and hadn’t forgotten how you’d felt around him. He needed you more than he needed the air he breathed, his desperation taking over as he swats your hand aside and strips off his jeans and boxers himself.

He drops to his knees and grips your thighs, pulling you forward until your center is inches from his face. The yelp that escapes you is intoxicating, your hands flying back to catch yourself. His teeth sink none too gently into the flesh of your thigh and he’s rewarded with a moan before he flicks his tongue over the hurt.

Your head falls back and Pierre places one of your legs over his shoulder. “Mon amour,” he purrs, garnering your attention. Your head lolls forward and he waits until you meet his gaze to speak again. “You know I love you, right?”

“I never doubted it,” you confirm, lips curling in a smile. “But why don’t you prove it to me again?”

He pulls your panties aside and blows lightly. You groan, thighs tensing under his fingers as your toes curl and he chuckles. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“Do you really want to tease me?”

“What I want,” he says sharply, “is to have you moaning my name until it's the only word you know.” His tongue flicks out to dance over your thigh, dangerously close to where he knows you want him. “What I want is to make up for lost time.” He rips through the thin lace of your panties and lets the ruined scraps fall to the floor.

“Those were expensive.”

“I’ll buy you new ones.”

He would buy you an entire lingerie store if he could rip every set of it off you. He didn’t care how much it costed, it was never too much when it came to you.

“What I want most, my love,” he murmurs, smiling when his hot breath curls over your dripping cunt and you squirm, “is to forget everything else and stay here forever.”

You cry out when his tongue finally flicks through your folds. Pierre hums approvingly at your reaction, one arm snaking up to pin your hips in place. He sucks lightly at your clit and your fingers tangle in his hair.

“P-Pierre,” you breathe. He pulls back and you whine at the loss of contact. He grins up at you, the wickedness of it dragging the moan from your lips that he was after. He was drunk on the sound, desperate to hear it again and again.

“There’s my good girl.” He runs his tongue flat over your sex, savoring the taste as you squirm under him. You let out a choked noise when he repeats the motion before fucking you with his tongue, his nose hitting your clit with each stroke.

He doesn’t miss the way your lip wobbles and Pierre knows you’re ready to cry with frustration. He decides he’s tortured you enough for now and relents, putting two fingers in his mouth to wet them before plunging them inside you.

His mouth is spelling his name on your clit a moment later, your walls already clamping down on his fingers as your orgasm nears. In the handful of times he’d taken you to bed, he had already learned that when your head rolls back like that and your breathing stops, you’re seconds away from climaxing. He doesn’t let up until you’re shaking beneath him, finally slowing to work you through your orgasm without making you hypersensitive.

“Baby,” you groan breathlessly. Pierre slowly withdraws his fingers and wipes them on his thigh before pressing a final, tender kiss to your center that makes you jump.

“Use my name,” he demands, uncoiling to his full height. He grips your wrist and hauls your boneless body up, wrapping his other arm around your shoulders to keep you upright.

“Pierre,” you murmur and he grinds his hips against you in approval. He captures your mouth with his, taking advantage of your hazy mind to lazily explore it.

You hum into the kiss, managing to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. Suddenly the column of your neck is all he can think about and he wraps a hand around it, squeezing with enough force that you pull back with a gasp.

“Too much?” He murmurs, lessening his grip. Your brows knit together and your lower lips juts out, begging for him to take it between his teeth. He leans in and gives in to the impulse as he swipes his thumb under your jaw.

“Tell me if you want my hand on your throat, my love. I need to hear you say it.”

“Please,” you say finally. Your eyes are cloudy when they meet his. “Keep it there.”

He shows his approval in the form of a light squeeze. You angle your hips up, nudging his cock with your center. You reach a hand down to wrap around his shaft and drag the head through your folds, teasing him as he had done to you. The grip on your throat tightens to a point bordering blissfully between pain and pleasure, both a warning and an order to continue.

If you knew how close he was to flipping you on your stomach and slamming into you, you’d call him crazy. Or maybe you’d like it, judging by the way your head falls back as he rocks his hips and inches into you.

You both moan when he decides the time for restraint has passed and he slams into you. You lift your hips to meet his with every thrust, clearly missing this just as much as he had. God, he’d lost months of fucking you, of feeling you clench around him and writhe beneath him. If he could stay like this forever he would, his hand around your neck and cock splitting you open as he laps up your moans like sweet candy.

“I’m- Pierre,” you squeak out, and he knows you’re barreling towards your second orgasm of the night. He pulls you up by your neck until you’re eye to eye and forced to look at him.

“Come for me,” he whispers, slamming into you again and again. “Come on my cock mon amour and I might just cum inside you.”

His words are your undoing, pleasure rippling from you in waves as your mouth falls open in a silent plea. He grants you no clemency as your cunt twitches around him, instead following through on his promise and following your lead.

You pants mix with his own as he struggles to keep both of you upright, his knees turned to jelly. Your head rests on his shoulder and he presses a kiss to your temple, slowly pulling out of you. A pitiful whimper escapes your throat involuntarily.

“I know,” Pierre murmurs, reaching over to start the kitchen sink. He wets a clean cloth and runs it between your legs, still supporting you as he doesn’t trust that your legs won't give out if he doesn’t. When it’s clear you can barely form a coherent thought, he scoops you in his arms and carries you to your room. He nudges the bathroom door open with his hip and sets you on the vanity.

The absence of his body heat makes you shiver when he goes to turn on the shower, adjusting the knobs until he’s satisfied with the temperature. He gathers you in his arms and steps into the tub, your sigh audible as the warm water hits your skin.

“Can you stand?” he murmurs before kissing your temple. You nod against his chest and he sets you down, keeping his hands on your waist just in case. You’re thankful for it when your knees wobble, a hand flying out to steady yourself.

“I’m okay,” you say after a beat and grin up at him. “I can stand, promise.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m taking my hands off you,” he says, grinning right back. “At least not for long.” He reaches over your shoulder for the shampoo and gestures for you to turn around. You obey, tipping your head back to wet your hair. A blissful sigh escapes you when his fingers meet your scalp, the cherry blossom scent blooming in the air as he works it into a lather.

Taking care of you was just as satisfying as the sex was. He cherished the intimacy of taking this small burden from your shoulders. The seemingly simple task was one of deep seated trust and it proved to him that your love ran bone deep. There was a level of trust in you letting him wash you that he didn't want to have with anyone else. It was reserved for you and you alone.

“Close your eyes,” he warns before guiding your head back under the water for a rinse. He cups a hand to your forehead to keep the soap from your eyes. Your smile is soft but unrestrained as you lean further into him until your back is pressed to his chest.

You both stay silent as he runs the creamy conditioner through the ends of your hair. His hand cups your jaw and tips your head back for a lazy kiss before he rinses that too and cuts the tap.

Once you're wrapped in a fuzzy white towel he finally dries himself off, fighting off a chill. He doesn't realize you're watching him until he turns around and notices you standing in the doorway.

"What?"

You push off the wall and pad back to where he stands to wrap your arms around his middle. His thumb traces patterns on your shoulder, perfectly content to stand there dripping on the tile until morning.

When it's clear you're lost in thought he speaks up. "What's on your mind?"

"When did you know you loved me?"

"Like the exact moment?" He asks, caught off guard. You nod against his chest.

"When you visited me in Milan last summer," he says a few heartbeats later. That night insisted on making guacamole at two in the morning and woke me up because you couldn't find a lime. You told me you couldn't sleep because it was all you could think about after you saw that couple at the cafe eating it."

"Why then?"

"Because I knew I didn't have a lime but I was fully prepared to knock on every door in the building to find you one. Because in that moment all that mattered was seeing your face light up when I handed it to you and knowing that it was me that made you smile like that. I knew then that I’d do anything for you."

It still amazed him how a lime of all things was the tipping point. In that moment, a lime was important to you and it so naturally became important to him. If anyone else had woken him from his deep sleep he would have grumbled and told them off. But you, seeing your face inches from his, the light from the hall casting a warm halo around your frame as you whispered his name, he hadn’t cared at all.

"But then I found the juice in the fridge," you recall and glance up at him.

"Yeah, you did. And you felt so bad for waking me up- you had no idea that I had already fallen so hard that I had to keep myself from shutting you up with a kiss.”

The easy admission seems to stir something in you and you rise up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his. “I knew that time you sent food to my dorm at midnight when I was pulling an all nighter. I was studying for my calculus final, remember?”

Pierre nods. “I was in Barcelona. You weren’t answering your phone so I sent a message with the takeout guy.” He had been wholly enamored with you at that point, having quickly learned that trying to keep his feelings buried deep was an option that would never work. So he leaned into it, letting little bits of it shine through in hopes that you might pick up on it.

Your laugh rumbles through him. “It was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for me. I hadn’t eaten all day. I was too nervous.”

“Took us long enough to figure it out didn’t it?” He untangles himself from you and leads you to bed.

“I’m just glad we did eventually.” You let him guide you to the mattress while he stays standing and goes to your closet. He hunts for the shirt he wants to see you in, praying you hadn’t gotten rid of it. He finally finds it tucked back in the corner and pulls it out, the cobalt blue fabric a little faded from how often you’d worn it over the years.

“I remember that,” you say softly as he returns with it and slips it over your head.

It was the first shirt he had ever gotten upon entering Formula 1 and somehow you had wound up snagging it from his closet while he cleaned up the mess in the kitchen during that same trip to Milan. He had choked on his guac when you reappeared wearing it, eyes lingering on the Torro Rosso logo on the chest and his name splayed across your back like a claiming.

"I don't have sweatpants for you anymore," you point out with an apologetic wince. "I got rid of them."

Pierre just shrugs and hands you the shirt. "I have a change of clothes in my backpack. I was planning on working out to blow off some steam if…"

He trails off and you nod in silent acknowledgement. He didn’t have to voice the thought, you were already in his head and knew exactly what he meant. Unable to help himself, he kisses your head just because he can before retrieving his bag from the kitchen. "I have something for you," he says and lets the towel around his waist drop.

You let out a low whistle and grin at him as your eyes slide over every inch of his body. He takes more time than necessary to pull out his shorts, appreciating your gaze. You're still watching him as he slips them on and brings his bag to you.

"Do you wanna see what I got you or are you gonna stare at me all night?"

"I think I'll stare."

Pierre rolls his eyes and chuckles, plopping down next to you. "Close your eyes and hold out your hands."

You do as he asks but not before cocking a brow at him. Knowing the sound of the package will give it away, he does his best to draw out the first item as quietly as he can. The second he sets it in your hands a smile splits your face. He'd tear down the energy station with his bare hands to keep that expression on your face.

"It's candy." Your eyes open and you gasp. "Laffy taffy? But you can only get this-"

"In the states," He finishes. “I got as much as the store had.” The chewy, fruity candy was your absolute favorite and every once in a while you craved it. His backpack was currently stuffed full of it and various other packages of sweets, having been collected at every gp he had been to since Austin.

You tear into the package and dig for a pink one. You hold it out to him triumphantly and somehow, it’s that simple gesture that makes him melt. “You like the strawberry ones don’t you?”

“Yes baby, I do.” He lets you pop the sweet in his mouth - Pyry would certainly not approve- and grins at you. “If you eat too many before bed you won’t be able to sleep.”

“It’s still early,” you point out but don’t hesitate to set the sweets aside and cuddle up to him when he lays back. “Got somewhere to be?”

“I have to be at Milton by eight,” he says, wrapping an arm around your middle. “But you’re coming with me.”

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @ricciartodododo

If you have asked to be tagged in the past and I missed you I apologize! Just comment below and I’ll get you added for future updates. Thanks for reading ❤

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly fanfiction #pierre gasly x reader #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fantasy #formula 1 fanfic #my writing #pierre gasly imagine #formula 1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fantasy #f1 rpf #formula 1 rpf

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peterspideyy · 3 years

Text

what for? | part two

part one

summary- you call your boyfriend, peter. but, it isn’t a happy one. and he’ll remember it for the rest of his life.

warnings- angst, swearing

————

it’s been a month, three days, five hours and two minutes since you left.

peter still remembers that phone call vividly. it’s like, it’s been surgically planted into his mind for all eternity. everything reminds him off that call. and he despises it.

there’s been a funeral.

it was nice. peaceful.

peter knows you would of hated it though- everyone was too upset and dressed in all black. he’s knows you would of wanted people smiling or wearing colourful clothes. but, you weren’t there to tell him that’s what you wanted. peter was the only one not crying at your funeral. your whole family, even the avengers were sobbing.

except him.

he didn’t have any tears left.

he was empty.

“what for, love?”

the sound on the other end went silent, as peter waited for you to answer his question.

“darling? what’s wrong? you can tell me anything you know.” he ushered, feeling a slight panic rise in his body at how quiet it was on the phone.

it was too quiet.

“y/n?” another voice was heard suddenly, and he immediately recognised it as tony’s.

“mr stark?” peter shouted, in hopes tony could hear him. luckily, he did.

“pete?”

“yeah it’s me, where’s y/n?” peter questioned, genuine worry in his voice.

“i-“ tony couldn’t speak. what could he say? he was heartbroken, at the sight of you- dead.

“tony.” peter warned, making the man start to cry over your body.

“tony! where the hell is y/n?” he was shouting now, and tony could imagine him pacing around, hands pulling at his hair.

“peter...i’m so sorry.” tony mumbled, voice croaking with silent sobs.

“can you just tell me what’s going on?!” he screamed, as his hands started to shake.

“she’s gone.”

may has tried to get him to eat. he doesn’t want to. he doesn’t know the last time he ate alone. it sounds stupid- to not wanting to eat on your own. but, he always ate with you. and now you weren’t here anymore.

he’s not going to school, either. his teachers keep on sending him work, but he just see’s you. smiling and laughing. it doesn’t help that you were in all of his lessons. and how he remembers on friday afternoons, when you were both drained from the week you just had, how you would sit in the back of the class, hands intertwined, as you both whispered sweet nothings into each other’s ears. he loved those days.

but, you weren’t here to have those days again.

if he knew you were dying on that phone call, he would of said how much he loved you. how much he appreciated you. but, while you were trying to stay alive, he was too busy trying to set up a stupid date night.

he just wishes you told him.

he wishes for a lot of things. but, not everyone can get what they want.

a knock on the door inturrupted peter’s thoughts, as he looked up to see may entering with a sympathetic smile on her face. “there’s someone here to see you.”

he doesn’t know why, but a little bit of hope fluttered in peter’s stomach. he’s heard about how people fake their death on missions, and he prays that’s what happened with you. but, when tony stark walked in, his face dropped.

he was stupid to even think that you were alive.

“hey, kid.”

“i’m so sorry, kid, she’s gone.” tony whispered, tears falling down his cheek at the sound of peter’s broken cries on the phone.

“hi.”

tony looked around his room, taking in how much of a mess it was. he also noticed, how all of y/n’s belongings were spaced out on his bed. and then, tony took in peter. he had deep purple bags under his eyes. tears stained his cheek, as his bloodshot eyes starred at a random point in the wall. anthony coughed slightly, before sitting next to peter on the bed.

“how are you?”

peter shrugged.

“listen i know it’s hard, i’ve lost a person i love too i-“

“no.” peter cut off.

“yes, you loved...” peter stopped. he hasn’t said y/n’s name since that phone call. “her but it wasn’t in the same why like i did. so please, don’t say that you get me, because you don’t.”

tony had expected peter to snap back at him, for whatever he was going to say. so he wasn’t shocked.

“i am truely sorry, peter. i now how much you cared for her.”

peter looked down at his hands. “yeah.”

a minute of silence passed, before tony remembered why he came. “listen, i was going through old files this week, and i found this.”

he extended out a small blue usb, causing peter to take it out of his grasp.

“i watched the first couple of seconds, just to check what it actually was, but i think you would want to watch it.”

“what is it?”

“it’s from y/n.”

peter’s eyes went wide, tears forming in his eyes, as he turned to face tony. “what?”

tony titled his head to the side, smiling slightly, before patting his shoulder. “i’ll leave you alone, kid. i’m always here for you.”

“thank you, mr stark.” peter smiled back, but it never reached his eyes as tony nodded his head before leaving his room, and closing the door behind him.

as soon as the door clicked closed, peter shot up to his laptop, putting the usb into the side of the device. a folder popped up on his screen called ‘peter parker.’

he breathed out, double clicking on the blue folder before it opened to reveal one video. clicking on the video, an image of you popped up, making his breath hitch. it was just you, starring into the camera in mid talk, but it made peter’s heart melt.

he wiped away some tears that were falling, before clicking play.

“hi- oh shit-“ the camera fell of your desk, as you yelled making peter chuckle. you were always so clumsy. after picking up the camera, changing the angle slightly, you dropped your hands to your side, smiling widely.

“hi! sorry about that.” you laughed, looking down which is what you did when you were nervous. peter smiled softly, at your little gesture.

“so, i don’t know why i’m doing this. but, if your watching this peter, then i’ve passed. i hope your okay. i’m sorry that i left you this early. i don’t know, joining the avengers has put a higher risk of me getting more hurt. i know you have had your disagreements on me joining.”

peter remembers that argument. he was so worried about you. he wouldn’t want you to get hurt. or worse.

“but, i’m glad we’ve gone past that. but, just incase of an untimely death, i’ve made this little video in private. even though, darling, your asleep next door, so hopefully i haven’t woke you up by my screaming before.”

you giggled on the screen.

so did peter in his empty room.

“erm...when i first met you, on that cold, december day in high school, i knew you were my soulmate. even though, you were very nervous and kept on stuttering over every single word, i knew you would be the love of my life. the one thing i didn’t expect you to be, was to be my bestfriend. and i appreciate you so much for that.”

you breathed out, tears forming in your eyes as you looked deeply into the camera, making peter cover his hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs.

“i- you helped me with everything. i never had a good relationship with anyone. until you. this sounds so cliche, but you made me the person i am today. and no words could describe how grateful i am for that.”

you breathed in, catching your breath before speaking again.

“if i do pass, i want you to move on, alright? i don’t want to see you crying everyday. you deserve to experience love, pete. i hope i do get to spend the rest of my life with you, but stuff happens. you deserve to find someone who loves you as much as i do.”

tears were falling down both of your cheeks now, and peter had to stop himself from bringing his hand up to the screen and wipe them away softly.

but, he had to remind himself that it wasn’t real.

you weren’t in-front of him.

“sorry. i shouldn’t be crying,” you laughed, wiping away your tears, making peter pout, “i just...i’m so overwhelmed with how much i love you. your probably going to be really confused when you wake up to see my sobbing.”

you laughed, before stopping at another voice in the background.

it was his.

“y/n?”

peter remembers waking up on that day, panic filling him at the empty sheets next to him.

if only he knew what you were doing.

“oh shit, you’re awake.” you whispered chuckling slightly, as you leaned in to switch the camera off before freezing.

“thank you, peter benjamin parker. for everything.”

with one last smile, the video ended.

and peter’s sobs started.

————

a/n- sorry about how short this is, but thank you for reading :)

————

peter parker taglist-

@24kbucky @parkersbliss @liberty-barnes @icyhollands @dreamofaprilsblog @deathofmissjackson @averyfosterthoughts @jannine00742 @beverlyparkerr @anapocalypseinmymind @itstaskeen

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spidercakes · 4 years

Text

Have some type of AU where Peter and Tony have met online (although its never specified where), but when they choose to meet in person its a little um. Different, from the usual.

Warnings: (canon typical but Peter is 19) age difference, bondage, blindfolds, (sort of) anonymous sex, slightly under negotiated kink,

Peter can’t believe he’s doing this, laying on a bed with his head and chest on the mattress and his ass up in the air. His hands aren’t tied down at the moment but he’s already managed to get the restraints on the bed so each cuff is sitting in the corner looking lonely. He might have gotten a little ahead of himself anyway if it were possible to cuff both his hands but also he doesn’t want to screw himself over if he has to like, go to the bathroom or something.

Or if he gets stood up, not that he wants to think of that at the moment. He doesn’t think Tony would anyway, there’s not a whole lot of reason to miss a booty call. He can’t help but be a little paranoid at the moment when he’s wearing nothing but a butt plug, a pink blindfold, and a pink collar. The cuffs are pink too, because he kind of has an obsession with the color. That’d been partially what started this whole thing, that and his taste in sex toys.

More accurately he has expensive taste in toys and a small wallet, not that he tells people that. But he’s managed to acquire a rather large collection over the last couple years with what he can spare here and there plus a few more expensive additions from Tony. Its not the kind of thing Peter would normally do but he’d indulged Tony too much pretty much right away and in his defense it paid off. It might have helped that the first thing Tony did was compliment the Batman poster he’d vandalized in the background of one of his pictures. He likes to think he’s funny and no one ever comments on the surroundings in his pictures, just his body, so it’d been something new.

That’s how Tony ended up seeing his collection, which is how he ended up adding to it, and how they ended up in regular communication. He shouldn’t be nervous after all the stuff he’s done with Tony anyway, but also none of that was in person. Its one thing filming yourself jerking off for someone and sending them a video, its another to actually sleep with them. But the difference makes Peter giddy as he waits.

It feels like forever but its probably only a couple minutes before Tony shows up, Peter had timed it like that on purpose because that’s what they talked about. Peter works not to wiggle in anticipation or nervousness as the door to the room opens and in theory it could be anybody. Its not lost on him, the danger he could be in but that’s all part of the fantasy. He’d always been a little ashamed of this fantasy of his, wanting to be used by a total stranger he’s never even met previous to the encounter, but Tony had reacted immediately well to it. Peter had warmed to him after that and when Tony sent what he’d do to him back Peter had gotten hard pretty fucking quick.

He’s hard now too, a little desperate to be touched but Tony hasn’t come closer yet. He can hear fabric sliding against fabric, presumably Tony taking his jacket off, but he doesn’t get much more than that at first. Once again he suppresses the urge to squirm around and he can’t tell if its some misguided pride or if its some desire to behave for Tony. Either way he manages to suppress the need to shift around uncomfortably in his spot as he listens for any kind of noise that’ll indicate what’s going on.

It takes a moment for the foot falls on the carpet but when Peter hears it he lets out a soft noise that thankfully goes unheard. Its not until a hand lands on his back that he jumps a little from the unexpected contact. “Okay?” a soft, deep voice asks. Peter recognizes it from the videos Tony has sent him and relaxes some.

“Yeah,” he says softly, shivering a little when Tony touches him again. He slides his hand down Peter’s back until he circles his hand around the back of Peter’s neck for a moment, pushing his head further into the mattress before letting go and sliding his hand back up Peter’s back and over his ass.

“Pretty little ass like that, you're begging to be fucked,” Tony murmurs, voice low and attractive. He gives Peter’s ass a sharp smack that makes him gasp slightly. He pulls away again but his touch reappears fast at his wrists. He lets Tony move his wrist the way he wants it, wrapping the cuff around it before closing it tightly. He can hear Tony walk around the bed as he makes his way to his other wrist, doing pretty much the same thing. He circles back, stopping in the middle of the bed before Peter feels the telltale feeling of someone crawling into bed. Tony feels at his ass when he reaches Peter, grabbing at his cheeks greedily as he spreads them apart.

When he lets go of Peter’s cheeks he starts toying with the plug and Peter moans softly and then a little louder as Tony pulls it out a little and back in. “That looks like a pretty big plug, baby,” Tony says.

“I like to feel stretched out,” he admits, moaning as Tony pulls the plug out a little more this time before pushing it back in. Peter loves the feeling of being stretched out over the plug as Tony fucks him with it, moving it in and out of his hole quickly.

“Fuck, I bet you take cock real good,” Tony murmurs, running a hand up and down Peter’s ass. “Bet you’re still tight, too.”

“Fuck me and find out,” Peter tells him, getting antsy for it.

Tony laughs, pulling out the plug but leaving Peter empty long enough that he makes a disgruntled noise. “Shh, baby, I’ll take care of you,” he says, fingers swiping his hole a few times before he fucks his fingers into Peter. “Mmm, yeah you’re going to feel fucking amazing on my cock. You do this a lot, let strangers fuck your hole?” Tony asks.

He knows Peter has never done anything like this before, but he hasn’t filled Tony in on all the details of his sex life. Just the ones he thought Tony would find hot. He nods, “used to have a thing for hookup apps,” he says. Shortly after moving out of May’s he decided he liked his freedom and he liked that he had his own room with no risk of anyone walking in. He maybe abused that a little for awhile.

“So you’re a slut,” Tony states, not asks. Peter doesn’t expect the sharp feeling of arousal at that but his cock twitches anyway. “You like that, hmm? Being called a slut?” He nods because unexpected or not he likes the way it feels when Tony calls him that. Tony pulls his fingers out of Peter’s ass, “with a body like that I’m grateful you aren’t too picky about who fucks you.”

Peter moans, “please.” He’s not sure what he’s asking for but he knows he wants it bad.

“Desperate for it, aren’t you, baby?” Tony asks him, running a hand over his ass.

He nods, “please, Mr. Stark.” He knows Tony likes it, he’s pulled that on him before and it always goes well. This time it results in Tony leaning over his back and curling a hand around his neck, pinning him harshly to the bed as he grinds into Peter’s ass. His cock is hard and Peter moans just feeling it through what feels like dress pants.

Tony lets up for a moment, just long enough to unzip his pants and pull himself out Peter is hoping, but when he leans back in he gets his answer. Tony presses into him almost roughly, hand on Peter’s hip to steady himself as he fucks into him. Tony’s cock is thick and Peter moans as he feels himself stretch over it, and he can’t help the small noise of pleasure he lets out as he feels Tony throb inside him.

“That’s right, take my cock,” Tony tells him. “Pretty little slut, you’re going to love this,” he adds, fucking into Peter faster. Tony leans forward, pressing a hand into his back and pushing him into the mattress as he moans. “You feel fucking amazing,” Tony says, “so damn tight.”

Peter relaxes fully and lets Tony fuck him however he wants, taking what he needs from his hole. Tony fucks him fast and rough, clearly after his own pleasure and it makes Peter’s cock twitch, thinking about Tony fucking his hole for his own pleasure. He doesn’t mind when Tony fucks him harder, easing up on his back for a moment before Tony moves his hand into Peter’s hair. He grips the strands tight and Peter isn’t expecting the extra weight added to it as Tony forces his head further into the mattress but it results in him squirming.

“‘M’gunna cum,” he says, gasping harshly as Tony fucks him hard. “Oh my god I’m gunna cum!”

“Like being used like that, don’t you baby? Like knowing that your tight little hole makes my cock feel good?” Tony asks, sounding a little breathless.

“Yes!” Peter says enthusiastically. “Yes please, m’so close Mr. Stark.”

Tony stammers in his rhythm and Peter makes a disgruntled noise. “Fuck, you’re a hot little tease, aren’t you? Keep that up and I’ll cum inside you,” Tony tells him, fingers in his hair tightening for a moment.

“Cum in me,” Peter tells him, “fuck, please Mr. Stark I need it please.”

Tony swears loudly and fucks into him faster, “that what you want baby, you want me to cum inside you?”

“Mr. Stark, please,” Peter says, voice almost whining but he can’t help it.

If Tony minds he doesn’t say anything, he just presses Peter’s head a little further into the mattress and fucks into him hard. “Gunna cum,” Tony tells him, “fuck, you’re good.”

Peter doesn’t expect to cum at that but he does, moaning loudly as his toes curl. He pants harshly, having a hard time catching his breath as Tony fucks into him. Tony cums too, fucking into him deep as he moans.

Peter is sitting in his desk chair spinning around aimlessly when his phone vibrates. He picks it up idly, spinning around in his chair again as he looks at who text him. He grins when he sees Tony’s name.

How are you doing baby?

He’d been worried that Tony would lose interest after their little encounter but he hasn’t. If anything he’s more interested than he was before. Peter bites his lip and texts back.

Would be better with you inside me ;)

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #alternate universe #ironspider #starker au #slutty peter parker

116 notes · View notes

css1992 · 3 years

Note

I absolutely love all of your stories and was hoping to give you a prompt! I haven’t seen you write Tony or Peter as superheroes, but I would love a story where the team goes on a mission that goes wrong and they think Peter is dead. A few months pass, and Spider-Man pops up in a different color costume next to a big baddie (Quentin? Rumlow? Whoever it is def has a crush or Peter lmao). If you can’t write the prompt, no worries.❤️

(...)

“Thank you so much for taking my prompt omgggg! To answer your question, Spider-Man pops up as a baddie, and he works with/for another baddie”

You’re too sweet and kind, my dear, thank you so much! I’m so sorry this took so long, something happened in my personal life and I was too heartbroken for love stories for a while there hahaha Everything’s fine now. I hope you’re still out there to read this and I really hope you enjoy it! <3

[*]

This takes place a few years after Civil War. A few details were changed – Peter was recruited at 18, while attending MIT; Endgame never happened, they defeated Thanos in Titan; Tony and Pepper never got back together after their break-up somewhere between IM3 and CACW.

TW: Mentions of blood, alcoholism, grief and death. I guess that’s it, let me know if you find anything else triggering!

[*]

“It’s him.” Tony stood there paralyzed, staring at the hologram projected from Nat’s phone, heart pounding, ears ringing. “It’s him,” he repeated, running his hands through his hair, trying to get a hold of himself, trying to make sense of what was happening, of what he was seeing. It was too surreal – impossible! – he had to be hallucinating. Right? Maybe dreaming? Had he drunk himself into a stupor again? Had he finally gone mad?

It was a regular day, Tony had been down in the lab for an unknown number of hours when Friday announced Steve, Nat and Bruce were at the door, which was unusual. Usually, they’d visit one at a time, an unspoken agreement not to overwhelm the engineer, but that particular day they all marched into his house saying that he needed to see something. He was too exhausted to tell them to fuck off, so he just poured himself a drink and shrugged, gesturing towards the living room.

Nat proceeded to project a video from her StarkPhone and what he saw took away the ground from beneath his feet. He tried to sit down, but he didn’t make it to the couch, his legs were not responding, he fell on his butt in the middle of the living room. The blood felt like ice in his veins, his throat was closing up, his eyes were burning and his hands were shaking so fucking badly. He was boneless and petrified all of a sudden, as he watched him swing from building to building on his webs, a black and white blur.

Peter.

He felt Steve and Bruce on either side of him, trying to help him up, but he didn’t take his eyes off of the projection. It was him. My Peter, you’re back, you came back to me, you’re okay, you’re alive–

“Tony, it’s not him.” Steve’s voice brought him back to the real world, and he looked around. Natasha and Bruce both stared at him with worry in their eyes, like they agreed with Steve.

“What, are you fucking insane? Of course it’s him!” His voice was firm, angry, even though his hand was shaking when he pointed at the hologram, to the short video that kept replaying on a loop.

“Tony, he robbed a bank. He put civilians at risk. How could you think this is Peter? Are you insane? Don’t you know him? Look, we had to show you this because it’s going to be all over the news soon and whoever this is, they’re trying to tarnish Peter’s memory and we can’t allow it, but this – this isn’t him, Tony. I’m sorry.”

The older man stopped for a second, taking a deep breath. Was he going insane? Was he seeing things, was his mind playing tricks on him again? It wouldn’t be the first time in the last few months. He focused on the images. The bank’s alarm was sounding loudly, as people started running wildly out the front door. Seconds later, someone wearing a cape and a – helmet? Fish bowl? – on their head walked out, then finally him.

Not him, Steve said, but how could it be anyone else, when Tony could clearly see it was Peter gracefully swinging around on the webs. Not him, Steve said, but how could it not be him when Tony recognized every inch of his body? The long neck, the narrow, yet strong shoulders, thin waist, round ass, strong thighs, small feet, long hands and thin, wiry arms. How could it not be him when Tony could recognize the way he moved, the way he leaped and landed effortlessly, the grace with which he swung back and forth?

“It’s him, Steve.” Even as the words left his mouth, his eyes were fixed on the boy in the video. The suit looked a lot like the one Tony made for him, but it was slightly different. Black, instead of blue. White, instead of red. But it was him. Alive and breathing. “It’s Peter, I know it is.”

***

It was supposed to be an easy mission. Even though it called for every Avenger in town, it was just a security measure, Steve told them. They intercepted a terrorist group communicating online, planning a coordinated attack on Stark Tower, the Avengers Compound and Times Square. They were professionals, but only human. They thought they’d be enough: Captain America, Black Widow, Iron Man, Spiderman, Winter Soldier and even the Hulk as a safety net.

In a way, they were sufficient. They were able to avoid the attack and arrest almost every single one of the terrorists that weren’t killed during the mission. But the cost was high – way too fucking high.

Peter.

Tony knew what happened the exact moment when it did. He knew there was no saving him when he opened his lips and tried to call out his name and instead of words, blood came out. Thick, dark blood. He saw the life leaving his eyes when he looked at him one last time, eyelids drooping and then closing. There was no saving him, Tony knew that, and yet he tried. He flew as fast as the suit would allow him, even though he had no idea what he would have done if he had reached him in time. Which he didn’t.

Peter disappeared before his eyes, along with the man who had put a knife through his heart. And not just any knife, not any metal would have been able to pierce the suit. It had to be vibranium. Whoever that man was, he knew that, maybe he had Peter in mind all along. The only thing Tony remembered about him were his wide, blue eyes. Cold and wild. The sadistic smile when he heard Tony’s wail of despair. Tony thought he knew him somehow, but couldn’t be sure.

They just disappeared. One second, they were there, right within his reach, the next, they were gone. He’d lost him. The person he’d sworn to protect at all costs, at the cost of his own damned life, but he was useless the moment Peter needed him the most. Gone. Disappeared before his eyes, Tony couldn’t even bring his body home.

He remembered crumbling to the ground, broken and unbelieving, staring at the empty space where Peter once stood.

“Tony...” Steve crouched down next to him, looking pained and devastated, and the older man broke down.

“I lost the kid, Steve. I lost him.”

He didn’t remember a lot of that day, he’d passed out drunk in his room for the first time in ten years, woke up hours later in the med bay with Steve, Rhodey and Pepper speaking in hushed voices. He didn’t care what they were saying, because the first thought he had when he opened his eyes was that he’d lost the love of his life. His Peter.

***

“Boss, I was able to acquire the footage from the bank’s security cameras.” Friday’s voice brought him back to the present and they all jumped up, all eyes turning to the huge screen facing the couch.

“Good girl, play it,” he answered quickly, taking a seat because he knew he would need it.

It started with a normal day in a bank, people walking around, standing in line, talking to each other, nothing out of the ordinary. Then the guy they’d seen leaving the bank in the other video – Fish-bowl-guy – appeared out of nowhere, levitating above the patrons, slowly floating down.

“My fellow citizens, do not fret, I mean you no harm.” Of course, New Yorkers wouldn’t take his word for it, not after everything they had gone through over the course of the last decade. People started screaming and running, trying to get to the exit, but Peter stood there by the door. When they tried to push through him, he webbed some of them to the walls and the others froze, slowly stepping away from him. “This will all be over soon, I promise.”

Fish-bowl-guy demanded the tellers filled bags with money from their drawers as Peter guarded the exit. He didn’t say anything and it was driving Tony crazy, because he was dying to hear him. Both because he wanted Friday to run the audio through a voice recognition software to prove once and for all that it was him, but also because for six months he hadn’t been able to even look at pictures of Peter, let alone hear his voicemails or watch his silly videos. And he had several of them, the younger man sent him at least a video a day – his daily vlogs, he called them – even if they were just in different rooms.

But Peter didn’t say anything, he just stood by the door as Fish-bowl-guy talked to the patrons.

“I know we seem like the bad guys right now, but I promise you, we’re not. We’re the heroes here, really,” He started, overlooking the tellers as they filled the bags with cash. “We’re here to take the city back from those who took it from us. You know what I’m talking about, right?” The man looked at the patrons as if he was expecting an answer, but no one said a word. “Tony Stark and his little army. He took over his daddy’s empire, now he thinks he can just take anything and claim as his own. He’s done it to this city, even if some people haven’t realized it yet. We’re his hostages. He built himself an army and they control this city, the country, even! They fake threats and then come to ‘save us’, they destroy our homes, they kill our loved ones, they don’t care about collateral damage! Some of us have lost everything, because of Tony fucking Stark and his minions. But it will all be over soon, I promise you. I will set you free.”

He took the twelve bags full of money that the tellers placed on the counter and gestured for Peter to come closer and the young man webbed his way to him, until he was standing by his side. That was the moment people started running out of the bank, the moment they saw from another point of view in the other video. As they watched people leaving, Fish-bowl-guy placed an arm around Peter’s shoulders, pulling him close in a very friendly way, it made Tony’s blood boil and his heart sink.

“You’re doing great, honey. You’re doing the right thing. Come on, now.” He stroked his shoulder softly then walked outside, followed closely by Peter and then the video was over.

The room was silent for a few seconds after that as they tried to understand what they’d just seen. Tony didn’t want to read too much into it, Peter was clearly not in his right mind if he was robbing a bank, but still – the guy called him honey. He was… comforting him. And Peter let him.

“We have to find him.” Tony quickly ordered Friday to do a thorough search on the web, check surveillance cameras all over New York, police database, anything that could give them a clue on where they might have escaped to – or where they had come from. The news said they were followed by the police for a few blocks, then they simply disappeared before their eyes. It brought back terrible memories.

“Yes, we do, but not for the reasons you want, Tony.” Bruce frowned, coming to stand next to his friend. “You have to agree this – it’s just not possible. Peter is dead, he would never –“

“Then where’s his body, Bruce? Huh? Can any of you answer me that?” He looked around the room and they all avoided his gaze, as if worried they’d break him if they dared to say what they thought. “He disappeared. Right before my eyes, Bruce. Friday couldn’t connect to Karen, we have no idea what could have happened after that.”

“Tony, his heart was pierced.” It was Natasha’s turn to try. Tony could see it was hard for her too, she had a soft spot for Peter, from the very first time Tony recruited him, when he was still an eighteen year-old kid. “He couldn’t possibly –“

“He was enhanced!” He yelled, annoyed they were all so ready to discard the possibility that the person in the video could be Peter when it very clearly was. “Is! He is enhanced! I was never able to measure just how far his healing factor went, Friday could only estimate with the amount of information we had at the time, but clearly–“

“Tony, listen–“

“No, you listen! You listen to me, okay? That’s my fiance! I’m telling you this, that is the man I love, the man I sworn to protect and then abandoned for six fucking months assuming he was dead, when I didn’t even try to look for him! I just fucking drank my days away when I could be looking for him and now he needs my fucking help! So you can either help me find him, or you can fuck the fuck off, ok?” He was breathless by the time he was done, and they all looked at him like he’d gone insane for good.

“What do you suppose happened?” Steve asked quietly, and Tony frowned. “What do you think could have happened in these past few months that would turn Peter into that?” He pointed at the screen. “If he was alive this whole time, why not look for you?”

“I don’t know, Steve, we’ll have to ask him.” Truth was, Tony was terrified of the answers to those questions. He couldn’t think about it at that moment, he had to find him first. “What happened to Barnes? You of all people –“ He didn’t need to finish the sentence, couldn’t. He sighed and Steve flinched, eyes growing wide as the familiarity of the situation seemed to dawn on him. “Do you think you could’ve mistaken him for someone else? Ever?” Tony’s eyes were burning, but he didn’t shed a tear, he didn’t have time for tears. He needed to find him.

Steve was stunned silent after that, watching Tony with huge, watery eyes.

“Tony, we just don’t want you to get hurt,” Bruce intervened again, approaching him carefully. “We don’t want you to go through the pain of losing him again in case...”

“It’s doesn’t get any worse than this, Bruce,” Tony sighed, because he knew that nothing could hurt more than the thought that he’d failed Peter. That he didn’t try to look for him. That Peter had been held captive by a fucking terrorist organization for six months because he was too drunk to get out of bed and fucking try to look for him. Because he just lost hope and never thought Peter might be out there, waiting for him to come, to save him. “There’s nowhere else to go but up, from where I’m standing.”

Nobody said anything else after that, but later that day he got a message from Steve saying they would find Peter.

***

He was in the hospital for three days after Peter’s death. He was a fifty-year-old man with a shitty heart, after all. He was sedated for most of it, whenever he woke up he was so out of his mind with grief that they put him right back to sleep. When he was finally able to go home, he insisted he was left alone, but to calm Pepper and Rhodey down, he activated Friday’s babysitter protocol. It was Peter’s creation. It would let them know if Tony wasn’t eating well, or if he harmed himself in any way. If he tried to deactivate it, it would notify them immediately.

So he was left alone, at least most of the time. He spent his days in the lab, drinking, working, crying, thinking. The memories came and went unsolicited, specially when Tony was too out of it to control them. Suddenly, he’d be back in the boy’s dorm room in Boston, looking at that ridiculous onesie that he hid in a box of books under his bed, watching him stutter as he tried to explain it was just a cosplay.

“A cosplay of some dude who does stunts on Youtube?” Tony raised a brow, amused, and Peter’s face grew red as he scrunched up his nose and frowned in annoyance.

“He’s not some dude doing stunts, he – he’s helping people!” He argued, taking the “suit” back from Tony’s hands and stuffing it under his tiny bed, before sitting on top of it.

“Sure, if you consider doing back flips for the camera helping people, then Spider-boy is doing great,” Tony shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets nonchalantly, only to watch him grow even more irritated.

“Man! Spider-man! And I don’t just do back flips, I– He...” He stuttered and Tony took pity on him. His expression softened and he sat next to him on the bed, feeling the tension coming in waves from him as he muttered a quiet “fuck” under his breath.

“Peter, I know. I know. Okay?” He clasped a hand on his shoulder and the young man looked at him with huge, round eyes. Scared. Unsure. “I’ve been watching you for years. Your secret is safe with me. I’m not here to expose you.”

“Then why are you here?” He raised a brow and Tony took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts.

“I kinda picked up a fight with Captain America about signing some papers and then he met this friend who was supposed to be dead, like, eighty years ago, but is somehow alive and possibly a mass murderer? Now I need all the help I can get to fix it.” He winced and watched the boy’s face for his reaction, but he just raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

There was silence for a few seconds as Peter looked around the room, then back at Tony.

“So when do we leave?”

That was the thing about Peter. He trusted Tony blindingly, he never asked too many questions before jumping headfirst into whatever the older man proposed him. No matter how crazy, how inconsequential, how inappropriate. So he wasn’t too surprised when the boy said yes when he asked him out.

They had just arrived at the compound after Strange teleported them back from Titan, they hadn’t even showered yet, they were both covered in bruises and blood, but he looked at Peter and couldn’t help but think he could have lost him. They could have died, and he would have died without knowing the answer to the question that had been sitting at the back of his throat for months by then, which was–

“Yes,” Peter nodded, a faint blush taking over his dirty and bruised cheeks, and Tony blinked a few times.

“Don’t you want to think about that for a minute?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, and Peter frowned.

“Um, no? Why?”

“Because you’re twenty and I’m twenty-seven years your senior, kid.” It was terrifying to say that out loud. Peter was twenty. Tony was forty-seven. Twenty-seven years separated them. Tony was full grown man when Peter was swimming around in his father’s testicles.

“You just asked me out, you can’t call me kid anymore, I’m sure that’s written in some rulebook somewhere.” Even though he was still blushing, he found it in himself to be sassy and annoying. Tony rolled his eyes playfully.

“Fair enough. So, should I call you later?” He pointed over his shoulder, signaling that he was going to his quarters to shower and rest for a few hours. Peter frowned.

“For what?”

“For your answer? About that date?” Peter just looked at him like he’d asked the most stupid question ever.

“I just said yes.” He said, raising an eyebrow, and Tony sighed.

“I thought we agreed you’d think harder about it.”

“Uh, no, you just chickened out for a second there, but my answer is still yes.” He shrugged with a playful smile on his lips and Tony gawked at him.

“I didn’t chic – ugh, you’re such a brat.”

“I’m sure brat is off-limits, too.” He winked, walking away towards his quarters.

Tony worried about their relationship – as did everyone else, specially their close friends and May. Peter was so young and, to make matters worse, he sort of worked for Tony. Ever since Germany, the older man paid him a hefty salary for being a part of the team – he was always on call, after all, and always trained at the compound whenever he was in New York.

But as it turned out, his worry was unnecessary. Although young, Peter was mature beyond his years and acted more like an adult than Tony did most of the time – they sort of met in the middle. As for the power imbalance, it actually felt like Peter was in control more often than not. It was subtle, though, Tony only noticed because Rhodey pointed it out once.

“That kid’s got you wrapped around his little finger.” He laughed into his beer bottle as he watched Peter walking away. Tony blinked, having a sip of the tea the younger man had just brought him. Peter was dead set on getting him on a healthier diet and tea was somehow involved. The young man insisted it would help with his sleeping schedule, so Tony just agreed, even though he thought most teas tasted like dirty water. “If he says jump, you ask how high.” Tony was going to argue, but then stopped himself. He tried to think of the last time he’d said no to Peter, the last time he’d denied him anything, but not a single memory came to mind. “I’m not judging, it’s a good look on you. Whipped boyfriend.”

Tony noticed, then, that he was. Whipped, that is. Peter was always telling him what to do – gently, of course, and always with his best interests at heart. And he listened, because, as it soon became apparent, Peter was usually right about most things. Tony was more practical, he was in charge in the lab, what with decades of experience over him, as well as in the battlefield, for the same reason. But when it came to their personal lives, Peter called the shots. And it was fine. It was good. He felt loved and cared for like never before and he loved it. He loved Peter.

But he’d lost him.

And he couldn’t help but feeling guilty. It was his fault, had to be. He was in charge out there. He was supposed to look out for him in the field, he was supposed to keep him safe, bring him home alive and well, but he couldn’t even bring his fucking body back. He had nothing left of him but terrifying memories of cold, dead eyes and bloody lips trying to call out his name.

Days and weeks and months went by, but he barely noticed, barely left the tower anymore. He was vaguely aware of people coming and going – Pepper, to check on him from time to time; Rhodey, trying to get him out of the lab; Steve, with constant reports on what the Avengers were doing, as if he cared; Bruce, with excuses about projects he was working on; and Nat, for unclear reasons. They never asked him to suit up, though, not for anything. Not in a Tom Ford three-piece, not in Mark L. They just let him be. Which was good, it felt good to be forgotten up there in the workshop, which used to be their favorite place in the world.

Over those three years they’d been together, Tony had taken Peter everywhere – and he meant everywhere. A boy who had barely left Queens before he met Tony got to see so may different cities, so many different countries, even if just for one night sometimes, just for dinner, before they had to get back to their hectic lives.

But they always went back to their favorite place, Tony’s workshop, filled with so many memories it sometimes felt like it was haunted by their ghosts. Both of them. Because some part of Tony must have died with him and sometimes, when he got distracted, he saw them. Specially on the floor by the couch, that was too tiny for the two of them and Tony kept saying he was going to buy a bigger one, but for some reason he never did and they always ended up on the fluffy rug on the floor.

“You feel amazing,” Tony whispered as his fingers enveloped Peter’s hips, pulling him down lower, and the younger man moaned quietly and smiled as the words left Tony’s lips. He leaned forwards to kiss him as rocked his hips in a slow, lazy pace. “You are perfect, my love.”

“If you keep feeding my praise kink like that, I’m not gonna last two minutes here.” He laughed quietly against the older man’s lips, who sighed when he felt the boy’s muscles tightening around him.

“I won’t complain too much about it.” He tightened his grip on Peter’s hips when he sat back up and started moving up and down in a way he knew would drive the engineer insane. “You’re gonna kill this old man someday, I swear.”

“I really hope not, I kinda like him a little.”

And their ghosts giggled together and disappeared into thin air, like dust in the wind, and only a half-dead Tony remained with a glass of whiskey in hand, staring at the rug on the floor.

***

Friday was monitoring the press and the internet for any sign of Peter, but there was none to be found. For the first couple of days, Tony was restless, but hopeful. Peter had been missing for six months, there hadn’t been any sign of him for all of that time, so the fact that he appeared out of the blue that day meant that something had changed. He was sure he would show up again at any second.

As days went by, though, his hope started to dwindle. He grew desperate by the hour thinking that he would have to go another six months without seeing Peter, perhaps even longer – perhaps he’d never see him again. Sometimes he wondered if he was wrong, if that wasn’t even Peter in the video, if maybe he was really dead after all, but whenever he watched the video again he was sure of it. It was him.

So he couldn’t help but think that he had to be locked up somewhere. It brought back terrifying memories of those three months he spent in that cave in Afghanistan and how he never really recovered from that – he still had nightmares about it, twelve years later. Peter had been gone for six months, seventeen days, four hours and thirty-three minutes. And counting.

He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, the only thing he could think about was Peter, and the cave, and Barnes’s sessions with BARF, and Hydra’s brainwashing methods. He drove himself mad with all the possibilities of what could have happened to Peter – what might be happening right at that second as he waited for answers.

He’d been awake for almost sixty-two hours straight when it happened.

“I think you should see this, boss.” Friday’s voice interrupted the loud music and Tony frowned as he raised his eyes from his latest project – a new suit for Peter, one so sophisticated and impenetrable, not even vibranium could pierce through it. Friday wasn’t supposed to interrupt him unless the world was ending or she had news about Peter, Tony was very specific about that, so, yeah, he was a little freaked out when he heard her voice.

She showed him footage of Stark Tower’s security cameras, Tony’s heart almost stopped when he saw the boy sneaking in through a window, along with Fish-bowl-guy.

“He’s here.” He whispered to himself, unable to move for a second. His first instinct was to run to him, but he couldn’t be irresponsible, there were lots of people in the building, he couldn’t predict what could happen, so he had to take a few precautions. “Friday, where’s Pepper?”

“Miss Potts is not in the building, she’s caught in traffic a few miles away, boss.” Tony nodded to himself, taking a deep breath, then he started moving.

“Evacuate the building immediately, but don’t cause a panic, I don’t want them to know I know they’re here. Call Pepper, tell her to stay away. Where are they headed?” As he barked out orders, he watched Peter climb into the vents.

“They seem to be heading to the mainframe, boss.”

“Revoke Peter’s access to the systems,” Tony rushed to the elevator, the mainframe was situated right below his penthouse, it took up the whole floor and there was no way in or out other than the elevators and the air vents.

“Done, boss.”

Tony’s heart was beating wildly in his chest, filled with mixed feelings. He was going to see Peter for the first time in six months, after he literally rose from the dead – he’d gone to his funeral, for Christ’s sake – but it wouldn’t be a heartwarming reunion. He knew Peter wasn’t himself. Something had happened to him and he wasn’t okay, he was worried about what might happen, but the anxiety to see him again in person after so long was stronger than anything else.

He activated Mark L and when the door to the elevator opened, the room was quiet. It was huge, the light was low and blueish, there were at list seventeen rows of processors from one end of the room to the other, and Tony knew that at the very back, in a corner, there was a computer. He walked down the aisles quietly until he saw them. Peter had his back to him, but there was no mistaking the line of his shoulders, his neck, the way he stood, his quick fingers flying over the keyboard.

“Peter...” It came out as a sigh, but it was loud enough for both of them to hear and turn to him. For the first time, Fish-bowl-guy had his helmet off and Tony could see his face – the same face that took Peter away from him months earlier. “You!” He stalked towards them, but Peter webbed his feet together. Tony could easily break it, but stopped in his tracks, he didn’t want it to escalate to a fight. “What are you doing, Pete?”

“How dare you talk to him, Stark! After everything you’ve done?” Those eyes were so familiar, but he couldn’t place them. Tony frowned, taking a step closer, breaking the webs around his ankles.

“What– Pete –”

“You revoked my access?” Peter asked, exasperated and nervous when the computer announced his access was denied. That voice. That sweet, honey-like voice...

“So it is you.” Tony took yet another step closer, reaching out to him, but Peter got into a fighting stance.

“Why did you have to do that?” To Tony’s surprise, his voice trembled, like he was actually hurt by that. His heart broke in a million pieces. “You used to love me, you said–“ He shook his head, taking a deep breath. “You leave me no choice.”

“Peter, please–“ Before he could say anything else, the younger man leaped at him and almost managed to rip the faceplate off his face as he sat on his shoulders and started pulling it, but Tony was able to grab him and throw him away, but not far enough to hurt him. He stumbled a few feet and got right back up. “Pete, what are you doing, just stop!”

“No! You stop, Tony, please! How could you–“ He came at him again, and Tony flew out of the his way, but was caught by his web around his ankle. Peter swung him and threw him to the floor, but Tony quickly got up. “Please, Tony, you –“

“Don’t talk to him, Pete, he’s gonna try to manipulate you! We have to kill him, there’s no other choice!” Fish-bowl-guy was typing furiously at the keyboard, but Friday was keeping Tony updated. He was good, definitely above average, but he probably wouldn’t be able to hack into his systems. “Once we’re done, we can’t let him live, Peter.”

“What the fuck is he talking about! Kid, it’s me, it’s me, what are you doing?” Tony tried to reach Peter again, but he shot webs at him, trying to tie his arms to his torso, which was useless. The engineer knew Peter was going easy on him, he was almost as strong as Mark L and if the suit he was wearing was anything like the one Tony made for him, it had an instant kill mode. Still, he kept trying to bind him, not hurt him.

“I can’t let you release Extremis to the public! Please, I’m begging you, let me help you, we can–“ Fish-bowl-guy grabbed Peter’s arm, pulling him away and shaking him.

“Peter, stop fucking around! He’s dangerous!”

“Don’t fucking touch him!“ Tony had had it with him, he charged his repulsors and was going to aim right at his head, but for a short while, the room went dark, then when the lights came back up, only Peter was there. He had his mask off and, for a moment, Tony was free to breath. For the first time in months, he could fill his lungs up with air because his beautiful face was right there in front of him, within reach. Alive, healthy.

And staring at him with hatred.

“You’re disgusting, Tony. How could you do that to me? You groomed me, you sick fuck, I was just a boy, you molested me!” He started walking towards him and Tony blinked in shock.

“What?”

“You’re a good for nothing piece of shit, you left me for dead months ago, didn’t even come looking for me, I bet you found some younger ass to fuck, didn’t you? You old perv.” Tony took a few steps back, heart beating loudly in his ears. He’d never seen such hate in his eyes in all those years they were together.

“Pete...”

“You came after me because you couldn’t find someone your own age who would put up with your crap, right? The drinking, the nightmares, the fucking panic attacks, I was so fucking done with it! All of it!” He couldn’t believe his ears, Peter – he would never talk to him like that. Right? Or was that how he felt the whole time? “Give me access to EDITH, Tony.” He demanded and Tony frowned. EDITH was an AI that gave its users access to Stark Industries's global satellite network along with an arsenal of missiles and drones. It was only supposed to be used in case of Tony’s death, Peter knew that. “If you want to redeem yourself, you’ll do it, and I might forgive you.”

“Boss, I think you should see something,” Before Tony could answer, Friday activated the suit’s thermal imaging and Tony frowned. Peter was not standing in front of him. In fact, he was nowhere to be found and there was nobody where he stood just seconds ago. First, he panicked, thinking he had disappeared again, but it just took him five seconds to realize what was going on.

“Where is this hologram coming from, Fri?” Friday deactivated the thermal imaging and Tony was shocked by how realistic the Peter staring back at him was. So realistic that only one person in the whole world could have made it: himself.

“There are five drones projecting images in the room, sir.”

“Take them out.”

In seconds, five tiny missiles were launched from his suit and the drones fell to the floor, lifeless, and suddenly the whole room changed. It was still the same setting, but it somehow looked more real then, and of course, Peter had disappeared.

“Tony? Tony, where did you go?! What – what happened?” He heard Peter’s voice on the other end of the room and he rushed to get there.

Peter was curled up in a corner, looking scared and desperate as he looked around him in confusion. The other guy was kneeling next to him, trying to comfort him again.

“Pete, whatever he showed you, whatever you saw, it wasn’t real. He’s using BARF!” He tried to approach the young man, but his eyes were wild as he shook his head. He pushed the other guy away but kept crawling backwards, away from Tony as well.

“Stay away from me, please, don’t come any closer. I-I don’t wanna hurt you, please, Tony, please...” He was still looking around like he didn’t expect to still be there.

“Why do you always have to ruin every-fucking-thing, Stark? Why do you have to stand in the fucking way of every single thing that I do?” Fish-bowl-guy got up and started marching towards him, furious.

“I have no fucking idea who you are, you fucking weirdo.” Tony aimed his repulsors at him and the guy stopped, laughing incredulously.

“You hav – you motherfucker! You think you’re a God, don’t you? Above everything and everyone, literally wrapped in wealth and technology you’re unfit to wield. Like the holographic system I designed. A revolutionary breakthrough with limitless applications, that you turned into a self therapy machine and renamed it BARF! My life’s work, Stark, and you renamed it BARF! I told you it was a mistake, that my technology could change the world and then you fired me. You said I was… unstable. Ring any bells?”

It clicked, then. The crazy, wild eyes, the hand gestures, the insane world domination plans.

“Beck.” No wonder Tony had forgot about him, the guy was brilliant, but completely insane. He helped develop the technology behind BARF, but once he started talking about weaponizing it, Tony decided to let him go. “I didn’t steal it, it belonged to me, it was my idea, I made you head of the project because I thought you could see it through, but your ideas for what it could be used for were clearly unhealthy and a fucking threat to the world. So, yeah, not sorry for firing your ass, I was clearly right. What even is your endgame here, Beck? What do you want?”

“These days, you can be the smartest guy in the room, the most qualified, and no one cares. Unless you’re flying around with a cape or shooting lasers from your hands, no one will even listen. Well, now I’ve got a cape. And lasers. With my technology and with EDITH, I will be the greatest hero on Earth!” He spread his arms and laughed like the madman he was, and Tony frowned.

“Yeah? Where are your lasers now?” The guy looked at him like he had just realized he had nothing. Peter was curled in a corner, too confused to act, his drones lay limp on the floor, and he had no way out of the room. “Better luck next time, asshole.” Tony wanted to kill him, he did, but he controlled himself and just knocked him over the head. He fell heavily to the floor and Tony turned to Peter, who was still looking at him like the whole world had been turned upside down. “Peter, baby, c’mon, it’s me, it’s Tony,” He tried to approach him, but he shook his head violently.

“S-stand back!” He panted, eyes flicking between Tony and the guy on the floor. “What’s happening, I don’t understand, I don’t… We were… Outside and you…You killed people, how…”

“It’s fine, it’s gonna be fine, I promise, just trust me, I will take care of you, I’ll take care of everything, I –“

“Stay away from me!” Peter got up and run towards the elevator, Tony had no choice other than shoot him with the tranquilizer he used on Bruce when he hulked out at the wrong time. He rushed to catch him before he hit the ground and carefully cradled him in his arms.

Finally, in his arms. Warm and alive, solid and breathing.

“I’m so sorry, Peter. For everything. I’ll make it up to you.”

***

Tony startled awake when he heard screaming. His heart almost jumped out of his chest and he was on his feet in a matter of seconds the minute he registered it was Peter’s voice. He was distressed, possibly hurt, so he flew to his side, but was quickly pushed away by nurses and doctors that rushed into the room and Tony remembered the last 24 hours, where they were and why.

“Tony! Tony!” Peter called as he gasped for air, and that was more than enough for the older man to force his away back to him, grabbing his shaking hand.

“I’m here, baby, I’m here, are you okay?” He asked in a rush looking into his wild, scared eyes, and the kid just looked back at him for a few minutes, blinking several times, before he nodded slowly.

“Are you – are you real?” He rubbed his forehead, panting, and Dr. Cho approached him to run a few tests. Peter had been out for a whole day after the Hulk-sized dose of tranquilizer Tony shot him with, even with his fast metabolism.

“I am. Do you feel that?” He brushed his thumbs across his cheeks and Peter closed his eyes, sighing and nodding slowly. Tony took his hands and pressed them to his own face, down his scratchy cheeks that hadn’t seen a razor in weeks, and Peter smiled. “It’s me, I’m here now, it’s over.” Tony explained to him as doctor Cho checked his blood pressure and his pulse, asked him a few questions, then once she was satisfied, she nodded.

“You’re okay, Peter. You just need a lot of rest, ok? Most of your wounds from the fight have already healed, but I’m going to keep you here overnight just to be sure, then you can go right home, ok?” He nodded and she smiled. “Welcome back.”

She left the room and silence took over for a second, but they still looked at each other, as if afraid that if the looked away the other would disappear. Nat had interrogated Beck and figured out his plan. The terrorist attack was an ambush, it was his goal to kidnap Peter all along, he knew he was the only person, besides Tony, who had access to EDITH.

He made them see Peter’s death as he kidnapped him with an illusion of Tony. He was holding Peter in a warehouse in Queens and the sad thing was, he didn’t even need anything to contain him. He kept him there with illusions. Peter thought he was at Stark Tower the whole tome, living with Tony as if nothing had changed.

Well, with a few changes. Beck’s Tony was slowly going mad, called himself Superior Iron man and planned to take over humanity by spreading a virus called Extremis 3.0. When Peter refused to help him, he was turned into a hostage. Peter was “Tony’s hostage” for months before Beck “rescued him” – by keeping him in the same warehouse, with different illusions. He managed to make him believe the Avengers were in on Tony’s plan and they had to stop them. The bank robbery was necessary to weaponize the few drones he was able to build after he left Stark Industries.

“How… How are you feeling, Pete?” He braced himself for the answer, because he knew it would be nothing short of horrible and he knew that whatever happened to him was his fault. The younger man bit his lower lip, frowned, and shook his head slightly.

“Confused. Scared.” He confessed, tearing up, but he kept holding Tony’s hand tightly. “Not sure if any of this is even real. If you are real.”

Tony could see that he meant it when he looked into his eyes. He was terrified. The older man took a deep breath and sat beside him on the bed.

“Do you remember our trip to Brazil?” He placed Peter’s hand on his own face again, kissing its palm. Peter nodded with a small smile. “Remember our last night there, on the hotel suite’s balcony? We had been together for, what, two, three months at the time? Remember what I said to you?” A tear ran down his cheek when he whispered yes. “I’m gonna marry you someday, kid.” Tony whispered back, joining their foreheads.

“And I said you couldn’t call me kid when you were making marriage plans.” Peter laughed wetly between tears, leaning up to place a gentle kiss on Tony’s lips, sighing in relief. “I should have known that could have never been you…” Peter’s hand slid from Tony’s cheek, to his shoulder, down his arm, until it reached the little cuts on his hands, the rough pads of his fingers. Peter took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “How long?”

Peter didn’t have to ask the whole question, Tony heard it, and he squeezed his hand.

“Six months.” He winced when Peter’s eyes grew large as saucers.

“Fuck... Fuck! Tony – I feel so stupid… I should have known, I should have fucking –“

“Hey, hey, don’t, don’t you dare blame yourself, you hear me? He fooled us all, Pete. The reason why I didn’t come looking for you before was because... For six months, I thought you dead.” He cradled his face in his hands and Peter gasped.

“Oh, God, Tony.”

“I saw you die, Pete,” He whispered, lowering his head so Peter didn’t have to see his tears. “I saw you die before my eyes. And I – I believed it, too. I never went after you, kid. I’m so sorry, I could have saved you, but I–“ before he could finish, he felt the boy’s fingers under his chin, lifting his head, and he was met with an equally wet face staring back at him.

“I’m here, now. And so are you. We’ll get through this together, okay?”

“Pete...”

There were no more comforting words to say other than his name. The name he hadn’t dared to say for so many months. He knew they had a long way to go, he could predict the sleepless nights, the nightmares, the anxiety attacks, the absolute terror of thinking of ever losing him again. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but they were going to do it together, they would heal together and relearn how to recognize each other blindly once again. One step at a time.

#starker #canon-compliant #sorta #cssprompts

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sarah-writes-marvel · 3 years

Text

Don’t: Bucky Barnes x Reader (platonic)

S.S: Heyo, its been a while since posting a story so here you go! BE CAUTIOUS!!! This fic ca nbe ver ytrigger so read at your own risk! Thank you guys hope you all had a wonderful holiday season!

Warnings: !!TW!! cutting, depressive/sucidial thoughts, anxiety, bleeding, needles, MAJOR ANGST and some fluff

Word Count: 1,798

Again, please read at your own risk!! Thank you!!

MASTERLIST

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The events of Endgame had affected everybody. The loss of Tony, Nat, and Vision, the resignation of Cap, Thor off in space, and Bruce was somewhere in Europe helping develop cures for diseases, everything had changed. There were only a few who stayed around the reconstructed compound anymore. Those few including Bucky, Wanda, Sam, and me.

It was usually quiet, sometimes Pepper, Morgan, and Rhodes stopped by to see how things were going. Peter always came after school to see if we needed help on missions. T’challa and Shuri always checked in over the video call, same with many of our off-world allies. Valkyrie even checked in every once in a while, per Thor’s request when he couldn’t. It was nice, but nothing would ever be the same, and everyone knew that.

We each had our own ways of coping. The four of us that lived in the compound did our best not to bother each other. Bucky usually locked himself in his room, Sam went on runs, Wanda meditated and I blasted music so loud that I couldn’t hear my thoughts. It probably wasn’t the best way to cope but if it helped, it helped.

It was one of those days where memories flooded and tears fell without a second thought, so I plugged in my headphones and laid back in my bed getting lost in the bass vibrating in my eardrums. I watched the blades of my ceiling fan turn painfully slow while the urge to eat crept on me. I turned to my clock and realized that it was around noon and I hadn’t eaten since sometime yesterday. So I wiped the few stray tears away and managed to roll out of bed, feeling the cold wooden floor beneath my feet.

I pulled an earbud from my ear, even turned the music down just slightly as I walked down the hall. Even though there was plenty of room to spread out the four of us decided to share a hallway, the close proximity giving some comfort in the time of difficulty. It was nice.

As I passed a certain door, the sound of a muffled cry reached my ear. It was Bucky’s door. I understood why it had been so hard for him to lose Steve. He had been Bucky’s anchor in life, and his comforter after the whole Hydra situation. He had to put on a brave face before Steve left to return the stones, knowing that the punk of a friend would stay and live his life. He had to bite back the tears when he saw Steve sitting on the wooden bench, hair turned white from age and skin wrinkled.

I took a step closer, removing my other earbud and pausing my music so I could hear better, pressing my ear gently against the door. Another strangled sob came from the other side along with a guttural scream. I felt awful, I wanted to check in but I didn’t want to bother him if he just wanted to be left alone. But I went against the latter and gently knocked on the door.

“Bucky? Are you ok?” I asked. The only reply I got was muffled sobs. Maybe he hadn’t heard me. So I knocked again a little harder. “Bucky?” Again, nothing but crying.

I took a minute, maybe he just needed a minute before he answered. So I waited, listening to the pained cries until I couldn’t take it.

“Bucky, I’m coming in,” I called through the door. I turned the knob and opened the door to see Bucky on the floor, sitting against the side of his bed, a throwing dagger in his metal hand, and fresh bloody cuts along his flesh forearm.

“Bucky? What are you doing, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” I closed the door before moving towards him, tossing my headphones and phone onto his bed before kneeling beside him. I took the stained knife from his metal grip, tossing it across the floor to pick up later, and pressed my hand over his cuts to minimize the bleeding causing him to hiss in pain.

“Please, please don’t.” he cried, his metal digits wrapping around my wrist.

“Buck, I’m gonna help you no matter how much you might not want it. I’m not gonna leave you,” I told him, looking into his lifeless blue-grey eyes.

“That’s what Steve said, now he’s gone. How do I know you aren’t lying?” his voice was weak and quiet, scared almost.

“I’m not Steve, I’m not going anywhere. I swear on my life,” My hand still pressed against his bleeding cuts. “But this needs to be a mutual agreement, so you cant leave me either. At least not right now. So I need your help, alright? I need you to work with me here Barnes.”

His gaze was hazy but he nodded and let go of his grip on my wrist.

“We need to get you to the bathroom, and I know I might be strong but your much heavier than you look, no offense.” I smile, trying to bring some light to the situation. Luckily I saw a small smirk form on his paling face before he nodded again.

I removed my hold on his arm, standing up and reaching my hands down to pull him up, which was successful as he used the bed to help. His left arm wrapped around my shoulder as we shuffled to the bathroom where I set him on the toilet.

I grabbed the darkest washcloth in his cupboard of towels, pressing it against his wrist and placing his metal hand over it.

“I need you to keep the pressure on that, please. I know it probably hurts but you gotta do it,” I commanded gently, squeezing his hand around his arm. He simply nodded as his eyes followed mine lethargically. I continued to look through the cupboards for his first aid kit.

“Top cupboard to the left.” He sounded tired and I didn’t blame him. I had walked in on him sitting in a small puddle of his own blood and the emotional toll this event has all taken on us was more than enough reason to be tired. I opened the cupboard he suggested and retrieved the kit from the shelf opening it quickly and pulling out what I needed.

Even when the blood had been dripping from the cuts I knew some were deep enough for stitches, so I pulled the needle and suture thread from the box, gaining a groan from Bucky.

“I’m sorry but I know those cuts are too deep. It’ll only be a stitch or two and ill make it as painless as possible Buck, you just gotta stay with me.” I replied, looking at him. He replied with a nod as tears streamed down his face. I quickly wiped one away before sending him a small smile and returning to my task.

“Alright hun, we need to clean your arm so I can make clean stitches,” I stated, standing in front of him holding my hands out again to help him to the sink. He took my hands and hauled himself from his position and made his way to sink and began washing the cuts under the running water, wincing at the stinging pain.

Once he was back on his seat, I carefully patted the area dry with the used towel and began stitching the larger cuts. I only paused when Bucky hissed in pain or jerked away after I had pulled the thread through. A chorus of apologizes came from my mouth, and from his.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” his usual stern, strong voice was broken and came out in whispers.

“Buck, you dont have to apologize. It’s alright, life gets hard, it’s only logical to find a coping mechanism. It’s ok hun. It’s not your fault.” I cooed, trying to calm him.

“But I do, I just tried to kill myself because, what? Because I’m sad that my friend left me to be happy? How pathetic is that?” He denied, shaking with anger and sadness.

“It’s not pathetic because it is completely valid.” I began pulling the last stitch tight. “Life gets hard, and you have been through hell and back too many times to count. We have to cope with it somehow and pain can be a distraction, though not always the best option.” I continued looking at his sorrowful tear-filled eyes. “Steve was your rock, the person you went to with every issue. And now without him, you feel lost and your drowning under the metaphorical waves of life. So your feelings are valid, and your actions were valid, just not the right way to go about it.” I finished as I wrapped gauze and Coban around the fresh stitches.

A moment of silence filled the bathroom as I finished wrapping his arm and cleaned up the supplies that had been used.

“How are you so good at this? Why weren’t you phased?” he questioned, breaking the eerie silence.

“That, my dear friend, is a conversation for another time. You need to focus on yourself right now.” I said with a smile while I watched my hands.

He looked away, down to his bandaged arm flexing his fist as the muscles shifted the bandage.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “For helping me.” His eyes looked to mine, the small spark of hope back in his irises.

“It’s what friends do,” I replied. “Now you need some sleep,” I said helping him from the toilet and leading him back to his bed. Moving my phone and headphones out of his way, he settled onto his bed grabbing the fleece blanket from the foot of his bed and pull it over himself.

I carefully help before grabbing my phone and the knife on the floor and turning to leave.

“Wait. I-uh- could you stay? Please.” he sounded like an innocent little boy who was scared of the monsters under the bed.

“Ya, of course I can.” I smiled, crawling into bed next to him. I sat with my back against the headboard, Bucky’s head on my lap, and his bandaged arm wrapped over my legs. My fingers found their way through his brunette locks as his breaths became heavier.

“You know you can always come to me,” I said quietly, leaning my head against the backboard. “I’ll listen, always.”

“You can come to me too. Tell me anything and everything,” he mumbled through his tired state.

“Love ya Buck. Sleep well.” I hummed quietly, closing my eyes.

“Love you too Kenz.” he murmured quietly before the room was filled with soft snores from both the soldier and me.

Things might not go back to how they were but they will get better.

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

THanks for reading. IF you ever need someone to talk to if you ever have thoughts like these dont be afraid to send me a message! Im alwasy willing to talk through lifes troubles with soemone if it helps them! Also know that there are hotlines that you can call!

#marvel #fanfic #buckybarnes #wintersoldier #twiggerwarning #depression #anxiety #avengers #avengersendgame #reader insert #bucky barnes x reader #buckybarnesxreader #buckyxreader #wintersoldierxreader #bucky x reader #buckybarnesfanfiction #fluff #winter soldier x reader

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jaskiersbeloved · 4 years

Text

the road to the Neverland

Summary: Roman hasn't felt like himself for a long moment. He wants to just... Give up.

Author's note: Angsty. Really, really angsty, I am sorry for that

Tag list: @get-lost-in-a-dryer, @viva-la-pluto, @thousand-star15, @coconut-cluster

READ ON AO3

The first time that it happened he still had a sliver of hope left in him. So when a spoon clattered on the floor he just thought, he was just his usual clumsy self and ignored the flickering of his hand disappearing and then appearing a second later.

But then the video happened. And Roman started to loose faith.

That's why the second time had been hard to ignore.

He was chatting with Virgil and Logan (as much as one can call it chatting, with Logan sometimes just humming an affirmative to show that he was listening). He had turned around to take the bowl out of the cupboard when suddenly his whole hand disappeared.

The bowl crashed into little pieces on the floor, startling all of the three sides present in the kitchen.

"Damnit" muttered Roman, quickly getting on his knees to pick up the pieces.

He looked at his hand that has reappeared again. He would have thought "what the hell" if he didn't know what was happening. But he did.

All of them knew, honestly.

He pressed his lips and risked a quick glance to the other sides, checking if they had noticed anything. But no. Logan just shook his head, muttering how inappropriate it was to pick sharp things with bare hands. At that Roman foreced himself to chuckle, knowing deep down that he wouldn't care if he had slit his hand open with it.

It's not like it mattered anyway.

He heard Virgil commenting,

"Well, seems like you should go to sleep. With you being so clumsy, you could do more damage"

Damage. Just like he has damaged Thomas?

He shook his head and plastered a smile on his face, turning fully back to the others.

"If you only say so, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance" he said, throwing the pieces to the trash. "I guess that is my cue to go to the lands of dreams then" he said, still smiling.

Logan nodded but Virgil just... Stared at him for a second, making Roman tense.

Has he slipped somehow? Has Virgil noticed that...

But after a moment the anxious side just chuckled.

"Yeah. You gotta be tired if you agree with me just like that, Princey."

Bless him and his still relatively good acting.

Throwing a quick "goodnight" he almost run to his room.

Once inside he allowed himself to breathe. He slid down the door and sat on the floor. He lifted his hand and stared at it intensively.

Deep inside himself, he knew that this moment simply had to come at some point. With the thoughts he has been having during nights, it was almost inevitable.

They discovered it after Virgil decided to duck out.

When a side started to loose faith in its purpose, it would start to slowly disappear. Logan thought it was gradual, while Pat... while Patton thought it could be more influenced by the feeling of hatred and how strong it was.

Truth be told, Virgil didn't really want to talk about it, and, well, nobody could blame him. But from what they have gathered, a side would flicker, appear and disappear in just seconds, the only thing keeping them inside would be Thomas' mind basically ordering them to stay so Thomas wouldn't get actually insane.

Finally the side would got so tired of it, or at least that what Virgil had said, they they'd just... Duck out. Still existing in the mind but simply unreachable.

Like a kid taken to the Neverland by Peter Pan. Going willingly, to escape reality to a supposedly better place.

Well, Roman only started getting this and he was tired already. But honestly, when was the last time that he hasn't felt tired?

He hung his head, feeling the unwanted tears prickling in his eyes.

He honestly couldn't tell. It has been with him, this utter tiredness and the feeling of being useless, for a long time now.

It started with the little things, honestly. Things that he has brushed away, like the constant insults that he thought of as harmless quirps form the other sides, the musical but then...

Then the court happened. And Roman felt lost.

He honestly really tried to make a good choice back then. He tired to be the good judge. Tired to listen to the both of the sides. Tried to cover how the role, that has been placed on him, actually freaking terrified him by flirting, laughing, making stupid jokes...

Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thought, gripping his hair.

They told him how bad it was to side with Janus. So he has chosen selflessness.

But he wasn't happy with that. Not even a little bit.

He wasn't sure if anyone actually thought about what that has actually cost him. He sacrificed his dreams, Thomas' dreams for a selfless act. And the act didn't even feel good.

Yet the others couldn't know about it. So he did what he knew best.

Acted it up.

Tears started to fall from his face. Frustrated he brushed them off with his sleeve, maybe a little too forcefully.

Then his whole arm disappeared and Roman felt something ugly cleanch inside of him.

Seems like it will be the fast way for him, then. Maybe he passed the second star just a few videos ago and now he was going straight to the morning?

He sighed. The thought of the upcoming should scare him, but he felt... Numb to it. And maybe thinking about it as going to Neverland made him feel safer?

He couldn't tell.

Roman laid his head on the door, returning to his thoughts.

After that his dear, sweet brother decided to finally show up himself. Granted, Roman haven't seen the whole thing, because he has been unconscious for the better part of the whole ordeal, but he knew Remus. He knew that his sudden appearance didn't mean anything good.

And would you look at that, he was right. It had made Virgil even more anxious than he already was. It had also made Roman wonder. Wonder what would it be like if their roles were switched.

But he pushed it back then, trying to focus on helping Virgil, to reassure him that Thomas didn't hate him.

Roman scoffed at the memory of this.

What a damn hypocrite he is, truly. Especially after the last video.

The tears started to flow without any care.

Now it was actually good to trust Deciet. Patton chose the snake's judgement against his own, even though he had earlier said that listening to Janus was bad. But well, turns out that Patton could be wrong. And if Patton is wrong, whose to say that Roman isn't bad?

His breathing quickened, as he dug the heels of his palms onto his eyes, sobbing.

Whose to say that? Maybe Remus could take the wheel. Act as him for a while for the others to get used to it. And they would, he was so sure of that. Maybe they even wouldn't notice the difference. All in all Remus was still a good a actor.

A tiny bit of him hoped they would, though. That they would caught in right away. But right now he wasn't so sure of that.

Around him, his room started to gradually grow darker and darker.

Roman lifted his head, staring at it.

He has created it, so it would make sense that it would also react to his mood change. At least he thought that that's the reason why the gold and red from the walls started to morph to pitch black. The fairy lights attached to them stayed though.

Maybe it was just Roman's subconscious still gripping tightly to the concept of the second star on the right.

Next thing to disappear was his desk. And with it all of the sheets with unfinished ideas, vague plots, themes, designes imprinted on them.

Normally it would make Roman frustrated, maybe even sad or angry that they were no longer there. That all of his hard work just disappeared into thin air. But in the state he was now, he just shrugged. They weren't good nor needed anyways, so who would care? He certainly would not.

Besides when Remus takes over, it wouldn't matter anyway.

As he slowly stood up, suddenly he felt the energy rip off him and his whole body flickered. He stumbled backwards. Pressed his lips.

Well, it seems like my time is running out, he thought to himself. Now it's just straight to the morning.

"Goodbye then" he whispered into the darkness that surrounded him.

He stumbled to his bed and heavily fell on it.

The soft duvets felt scratchy. His prince outfit felt uncomfortable.

With the last of his strength he managed to shrug the jacket of him. He was about to toss it on the floor, when his hand cought the red sash.

He unclipped it from the jacket and ran a finger through the soft satin. At least that still felt right. Smooth. Almost comforting.

In the back of his mind a quote appeared.

“Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting.”

He sighed, laying down. He felt himself flicker again, but interestingly enough, the sash still stayed in his hand.

Roman shook his head.

They would forget though. He was so sure of it, that it would actually hurt, if he hadn't felt so numb.

He curled in the bed, clutching to the sash for dear life. Maybe it will become his fairy dust.

He closed his eyes, letting the darkness fall upon him.

For a split second he thought he has heard a knock on his door, but brushed it off. Must have misheard it.

They will manage without him. They will.

Something's wrong, Virgil thought, as Roman left the kitchen. Something's very, very wrong.

He glanced at Logan to see if he has noticed anything, but the side just sipped his tea. Virgil pressed his lips then, feeling the sudden rush of anxiety in him.

Music. He needed music.

He quickly went to his room and put headphones on his head. Without looking he chose a random song and laid on his bed, with hands behind his head.

Roman has been acted... Off lately. Sure, he would still show up when needed, say something with his booming voice, but... He hasn't sung even once. He hasn't smiled once. Or... He hasn't smiled for real once.

Not since the last video.

Virgil run a hand down his face, thinking. He shook his head.

No, not the last video. It was just when things has gotten so bad that he started to actually notice this change. But, if he were to be honest, Roman has been acting weird even before that.

The court. The appearance of Duke. Even the Crofters musical. Am I on the Right Path...

Come to think of it, Roman has been showing so many times he was not okay and they... They all just brushed it off.

Virgil winced inwardly. But then a sudden thought pierced through him, making his blood run cold.

If Roman has been feeling this bad, then maybe... Maybe...

He thought back to the broken bowl that was now in the trash.

He couldn't tell for certain, but Roman's hand could have flickered.

He sat up so abruptly that his headphones has fallen from his head. He managed to hear only the last bit of the song.

Neverland is home to lost boys like me and lost boys like me are free.

He needed to check on him. Right now.

He was halfway out of the door, when he stopped.

What exactly could he do if the thing was indeed happening? He wasn't good at all of the comforting stuff!

But he was also the only person who didn't make Roman feel uncomfortable. Patton was out of question. Logan was even worse than he at this kind of stuff.

He sighed and he went to Roman's door, with every step closer to it, feeling a bad feeling grow inside him. He raised his hand and knocked once, softly.

No answer.

He breathed through the nose. He was about to check if the door were locked, when he heard a voice behind him.

"Virgil?"

He turned on his heel. Logan was standing a few paces away from him. Seeing as he has caught the side's attention, he pushed his glasses futher up on his nose and said.

"It seems like our presence is required in the common room."

Virgil raised his eyebrows, glancing pointedly at the door behind him.

"Shouldn't we take Roman with us, then?"

"Ah. I think it is best to leave him be for the time being. It is Patton who wants to talk", said Logan with a matter of fact tone.

Virgil pressed his lips. Yeah, if Patton was calling them, then Roman was better off in his room. But a part of him wanted to say a great fuck you to Patton and still check on Roman. But that would be unfair to Logan and...

"Fine" he said, going in Logan's direction. "Hope he makes it quick though."

Logan just shrugged in response.

Going down the hallway Virgil glanced one last time at the locked door.

He honestly hoped that the worst didn't happen. Because there's no chance in hell that they'll manage without Roman. They won't.

#roman sanders #roman angst #platonic prinxiety #prinxiety #virgil sanders #sanders sides #sanders side fic #sanders sides fic #sonia tries to write

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oumaheroes · 3 years

Text

Earthbound 2/?

Summary:

Centuries after humanity fled a dying Earth and found sanctuary in the stars, the planet has healed enough to support mankind once more. For some, there is something more than curiosity; memories from another life whisper history in familiar voices, calling them home.

'He closes his eyes and thinks about blue flowers and large statues of stone, of ships and red coats flapping over a green meadow.'

Part 1

Part 3

AO3

……………………………………………………………………

Chapter 2: Journey to Neverland

Morning comes, and Alfred finds himself huddled on the floor of a toilet stall. He was fine up till very recently, having spent the previous night occupied with travelling to where his ship was docked via his dome's rather old shuttle bus. The covers of the seat of the bus had been cracked with age and Alfred had absent mindedly picked at the stuffing whilst he watched his childhood home zip by in a blur of dusty yellow before slipping away into the distance. The Earth-bound ship, his new home for now, was very different in comparison to anything he'd ever seen on the planet before, all bold, sleek lines of monochrome with bright lights and shiny windows that hadn't yet been smeared opaque by the atmosphere. It was exciting, it was different; it was like a dream coming true because there in front of him had been something which represented a future, a very large representation of the possibilities he could find.

He queued up to board and was assigned his room all within the space of a hour and Alfred had quickly unpacked with a frenzy of excitement in his small room. His room mate, a small, quiet man called Kiku, had watched the sudden chaos with an unreadable expression from the bunk he'd retreated to with a book after he had introduced himself. For Alfred, that was all easy. That was all doing something, there was a plan and it needed action and Alfred lost himself in the motions.

But then he'd run out of things to do. Kiku had watched him from the corner of his eye as Alfred grew progressively more anxious, rearranging his things, standing up to stare out of the window, sitting down to his laptop, getting up again, all whilst the feeling of panic took root and bloomed in his chest. It was now, with an empty task list and hours to wait before take off, that Alfred suddenly understood what exactly it was he had just done and was in the process of doing.

He had excused himself for a walk but hadn't got far before all of his anxiety came to a head and he needed to get away from all of the people, away from the windows where he could see the landscape he'd soon be leaving behind without knowing if he'd ever see it again and away from the exits and doors, most of all, because he was half scared that he'd just walk out of one.

He chose the first bathroom he came to and squashed himself on the floors in a stall, pillowing his head in his arms as he squeezed, and still squeezes, his knees in a desperate attempt to calm down and rationalise.

Breathe.

He extracts an arm from where it is hooked under his knee and glances at his watch. It is 10.38am. By now, he should be at work. By now, his parents would be up and assume he is where he is supposed to be, at work now themselves. It took him five hours to get to the ship, so he has until 12pm to board a bus back and get home before them, to pretend that nothing had happened. He has until 12pm before whatever choice he makes becomes the only one he has left. If his parents were to find out, if they were to know where he plans on going or if his job were to get wind of what he is doing then he doesn't think there will be any chance of fixing it completely. His boss and colleagues would consider him a flight risk and which would ruin his chances at moving up the career ladder, his parents would be broken hearted that he had thought about leaving in the first place, not even adding on the hurt that he didn't plan on saying goodbye, and he knows that if he goes home to talk about it with them he'd be talked out of it instantly. He doesn't even think that he'd put up much of a fight.

Alfred buries his face back into his knees and bites on his cheeks, not hard enough to draw blood or cause any real pain but enough for him to focus on. What was he doing? Was he really going to throw his whole life away, all of what he'd built and all of what he could have, just like this? On a whim? Because that's what this is, a whim, and he knows it. What if there is nothing waiting for him on earth, what if there isn't anyone who wants him to work in history, what if he can't settle in or make friends or get enough money together to try again; is it worth the risk?

He hears the door to the bathroom open and he stills, breathing slowly through his mouth before carefully going to uncurl himself and move to the toilet where his feet won't be seen.

He's too late. The footsteps of the other person stop on front of the mirrors over the sinks but they quickly start moving again, towards where he's hiding. The footsteps slow down before coming to a stop in front of his door and Alfred watches as the person shifts their weight from one foot to the other, as if they're deciding what to do.

'Hello?' They say in a soft, tentative voice. Alfred knows it's stupid, because the other person, a young man by the sounds of it, obviously knows that he's here, but for a second he thinks that maybe if he doesn't say anything they won't notice him.

'Um, are you okay?' Still Alfred doesn't answer and watches as the person outside his door shifts to the other foot.

'Do you need me to get anyone, or anything?'

'No,' he surprises himself by answering and without his self-control his voice catches before he's able to stop it. He forces himself to speak again, more normally, 'I'll be alright, but thanks! Just ah... just needed to get away for a bit.'

'Cool uh, okay. Me too, you know? It's a lot to think about.'

It's hard to keep up a conversation when one of the participants in locked in a toilet but the other man has that small wobble in his voice that Alfred is trying to cover up in his own and he realises that this guy isn't going to go away any time soon. So, legs beginning to cramp anyway, he shakily gets to his feet and unlocks the door.

The other man is his height and seems to be his age, with shoulder length, wavy blond hair and large round glasses perched on his nose. They're slipping, and he pushes them up as Alfred emerges.

He gives a small smile. 'Hey, glad you're alright. I didn't know whether to disturb you or not, if I'm honest.'

Alfred shakes his and sticks out his hand for the other to take. 'Nah, I'm glad that you did. I was talking myself round in circles in there.'

The man takes it and gives it a quick shake. 'I know the feeling, bit crazy this, eh? I'm Matthew.'

'Alfred.'

Matthew nods at him. 'Nice to meet you. You here with anyone?'

He obviously doesn't mean the bathroom and Alfred swallows the hot flash of loneliness and regret that makes itself known in his throat. 'Nope, all alone! You?'

Matthew ducks his head and shifts his feet again. 'Same.'

'Do you...' Alfred pauses, uncertain if he wants to hear the answer, but he heard the wobble in Matthew's voice and he must be Alfred's age; he must be worried about similar things to what Alfred is so he presses on, 'Can I ask you something kinda personal? Do you think we're doing the right thing, leaving here? I mean it's a long way away and everything and it's not like there's an easy way back.'

Matthew blinks at him and takes a long breath in before answering with a voice filled with unexpected finality. 'Yeah. I mean, I don't know what your reasons are, of course, or what you're giving up, but-' He stares at the spot between Alfred's eyes and continues, 'but we're going to Earth, even if it goes horribly wrong or we don't get what we're going there for, it's Earth, isn't it? It's worth a try.'

It's what Alfred wanted to hear, it's the validation of his selfishness that he needed but it doesn't quite soothe his concerns as much as he had hoped.

Matthew must have noticed, because he tries again, sounding slightly panicked, 'I'm sure you'll be fine though, whatever happens! I mean, I'm going there because I'm hoping to work with all of the animals they've got; my parents warned me that they won't care about that and will probably put me to work on a farm or something but as long as you're fit to work they're not gonna turn us away, right?'

Alfred fights down the euphoric glee trying to become a grin on his face and instead says, 'Yeah, but farms have animals too, right?'

Matthew laughs. 'I bet I'll get trodden to death by a cow.'

Alfred claps him on the back. 'Hey, that sounds like a great way to go! Don't worry, man, I'll write home for you and say it was a elephant, or something. You know, keep your street cred up.'

Matthew rolls his eyes and grins at him. As he jabbers about the elephants that used to live on Earth before the Fall, later on in one of the canteens on their deck where they go for lunch, Alfred notices the clock hit 12 and feels nothing but excitement.

He'll be fine.

……………………………………………………………………

Peter is twelve, and the trip is finally coming to an end. It's been so many years, here on the ship, that if not for the books and videos he sees in school he would have forgotten how the domes and living stations from his home planet looked, now far far away. He thought that he was prepared for the sight of Earth, their species' old home world, he's seen so many photos of it that all he needs to do is hear the name to have it brought up in his mind, as detailed and as clear as anything he's seen with his own eyes. But, nothing could have prepared him for the real thing.

He is sitting in the corridor outside his living quarters. Mum and Dad are arguing, again, and he doesn't really want to be in there right now because he knows that as soon as they see him they'll pretend that nothing's the matter and he thinks that that's probably worse. With a sigh, he gets up, floor too hard to actually sit on for long periods, and goes for a wander around his 'neighbourhood'. As he passes doors of the others living here he wonders what kind of families live inside them: a mum and her kids, an elderly couple, someone young looking for something new, or maybe they're just like him, dragged here because their planet couldn't support them and they took a chance at building something better. A split family with barely anything to their name hurtling towards an unknown utopia.

It's been hard to get news of Earth and of the colony they'll be joining, when their ship stops only to refuel itself, but apparently it's going well. This is a comfort, at least, because not much else is these days. Some people live on space stations or spaceships and nothing else and although Peter finds an odd sort of comfort being surrounded by metal his parents, and many others, do not. Fights and spats amongst the passengers and crew have been increasing in the last few months, especially once everyone knew that they were getting close to the end of the flight. The ship they're on isn't even that small, so maybe it's not cabin fever after all and more impatience that drives the tempers high and tolerance down.

As he gets to a plaza of sorts, (the town square, as it is affectionately known,) he notices a huddle of people clambering over each other to reach and get a look out of the large, expansive windows there. Deciding against trying to force his way through the excited mass he goes forward and off to the side of the huddle to a smaller porthole and gazes out curiously.

What he sees is spellbinding, unlike anything he has ever seen before. It is not difficult to understand what is so interesting. Amongst the glittering, never-ending stars lies the Earth, shining bright and blue and all of a sudden Peter forgets how to breathe. It's blue, more blue than it ever was in the photos from his school books, there are swirls and blurs of greens and browns and whites mixed in all together but there is blue blue blue. In no picture did it ever look like this, earth was brown and dead and dry, this wasn't Earth. This wasn't the home humans had ruined, this wasn't what they had left behind. This, this couldn't be Earth, couldn't be his new home because there was so much water and-

Peter is jostled, another boy has pushed him away from the window where he had pressed his face close to the glass to see -his breath still mists the glass- but now he can only see the inky blackness of space from behind the boy's head and so he ducks away from the crowd of bodies and goes off in search of his parents, heart pounding furiously in his ears.

……………………………………………………………………

Francis, and the people he is with, are the first who will arrive on Earth. Their ship will get there the fastest and thus all aboard will be trained in a skill necessary to facilitate the setting up and maintenance of the first colony, distinct from the research bases already dotted about there. His mother must have known, because every adult he encounters are all young and healthy with intelligence and passion. There seems to be a entry requirement, because there are people from other planets besides his own that share the same qualities and all see to be formally trained, in one way or another. For the first time, he is grateful for his drafting.

Francis is happy to learn that he can pick what he wants to learn, out of the options that are available to him, and he chooses geology. The study of the soil and its chemistry isn't what he ever foresaw himself doing, but it seems to fit, somehow. As he learns about the tectonic movements of the earth, how the structure of the planet operates and how this in turn can affect and be affected by the weather, he feels like he's becoming a part of something once more. There is a goal at last, a purpose, and though he still feels as though there's something missing from his life the feeling is lessened by simply working past it; there is something to focus on.

It is lessened more so, maybe, by Arthur. Arthur is the unfortunate man assigned to share Francis' room, sleeping in the bunk above his, and specialising in agriculture. He wants to see the sea, has always wanted to see the sea, and when he talks about the oceans and cliffs and the rocking of far away waves Francis feels a part of himself become alive and real. Despite the nonchalance he coats it in, there is passion in Arthur's voice, there is a drive and a yearning which Francis recognises as one he used to share and to see it reflecting from Arthur's eyes makes his own burn with a longing he can't understand or explain. There is a tugging deep in his stomach and he starts to gaze out of the windows in anticipation, Arthur's voice drifting around his head to settle between his ears.

When Francis is twenty six, they finally get there. The stations below are set up on a nice bit of land close to the sea but also to a freshwater river too; there's fertile fields and dense forests with lots of wild-life and wild fruits and vegetables. He knows all of this before they're allowed down because that's all part of the training and survival lessons they're given. Each member must be capable of pulling their weight in areas other than their specialisation and Francis is now well versed on which plants he can eat and which he can't, how to make simple animal traps and how to catch a fish.

He feels ready to go and is excited to finally get to work and see these fields, seas and forests for himself, excited to see so much that he's only heard about and seen in pictures. And though he says otherwise, Arthur is just as excited, Francis knows, because anytime anything to do with Earth is mentioned he sits a little straighter, comes a little closer, and opens himself up a little bit more to get as much information as he can.

'Do you ever think,' Francis asks him one night, 'about where we're landing?'

Arthur turns over in the bunk above him and the metal creaks under his weight. 'What on earth are you talking about.'

'We're landing on what was once a country,' Francis explains, 'it once had people who had a language and a culture and a history. It's not just land, it was once a place that humans long ago spoke about.'

Arthur offers no further input, so Francis continues. 'It could have been someone's favourite place to go on holiday, or it could have been a small village where children grew up and played, or it could have been the site of a terrible battle from long long ago.'

'It probably was the site of a battle, at least once.' Arthur mutters from his bed.

Francis ignores him. 'It seems like a shame. Whatever is there will be built on by us; it's almost as if we're destroying its history.'

'We're not destroying it,' Arthur's voice is quiet but speaks volumes; he's thought about this before, 'we're adding to it. We're just another story for it to keep.'

Francis laughs and calls him sentimental but regrets it when Arthur throws a well aimed pillow at him.

'Shut it! Now, give that back.'

'No.'

'Francis! Give. it. back.'

'Why? You threw it at me, I did not take it from you.'

'For fuck sake, you utter waste of a human.' He's clambering down and once Francis sees his toes on the rungs of the ladder he rolls onto his belly, trapping the pillow beneath him. Arthur tugs on his shoulder and succeeds in rolling Francis back over but before he can do much else Francis grabs him and pulls him down to the bed. Arthur gives an undignified squawk, his head hits one of the metal frames and he tumbles gracelessly onto Francis' lap.

Francis can't help but laugh. 'Oh Arthur I'm sorry, are you-' but he's stopped by Arthur punching him in the eye, hard, and then there's one of their neighbours hammering on the wall next to Francis' ear, bellowing for them to shut the fuck up already because it's 1 am and some people plan on trying to sleep tonight.

They are taken down in the shuttle the next day in the afternoon. They're not allowed outside yet, they need to adjust to the planet's gravity and get used to the micro bacteria in the air, so they are housed in the Arrivals' building and assigned a room to sleep in for the time being. Francis has a black eye and Arthur has an egg-sized lump on his forehead but they're both too busy staring out of the window at the dazzling sunshine to complain that they've been put together, again.

……………………………………………………………………

Ludwig disappeared with Gilbert two days after his attack. Thanks to his illness though, they both easily convinced their parents that they'd rather stay home than making the trip to their grandparents' house and so they saw them off with ease, Gilbert trying not to grin and Ludwig trying not to give them away with how much he was sweating. As soon as they were alone he and his brother went to their rooms and packed a bag, Ludwig agonising over the situation with himself the whole time. When the day came a still wobbly Ludwig was bundled in his brother's transport pod and they both travelled to their boarding dock. It was so easy to leave.

Maybe that's what Ludwig is hurt most about. Neither parent seemed to care that he couldn't make it to his grandparents', neither parents called to check in one them whilst they were away. They probably wouldn't know anything was wrong until they returned, a few days too late to stop them.

Despite the ease of everything else, the trip itself is horrible. Ludwig's body, having only barely adjusted to his own ship's gravity systems, now finds itself thrust upon a different one and is rebelling angrily against him. The attacks are more frequent now than ever, leaving him unable to work at anything for long before another one knocks him back to bed. Today is one such day, he curls up in his bunk and tries not to complain or let his brother know how bad he feels; Gilbert does enough for him already.

He must have fallen into a daze, because he wakes up in a panic to the sounds of Gilbert kicking the door open and flinging his work bag against the wall with a thud. He tries to sit up but the world pitches alarmingly, so for the good of both of them and the state of their floor he lays back down gingerly. 'Bad day?'

Gilbert snorts and flops down on the floor to tug off his boots. 'I'll fucking say, there was massive electrical surge in one of the computers and it fucked up at least a third of people's personal systems on the ship.'

Ludwig clucks his tongue in sympathy and looks his brother over with concern. Despite looking harried he doesn't seem too worse for wear, but he works far too much in order to support them both and it's tiring him out. However, someone needs to pay for their keep and it sure as hell can't be Ludwig at the moment.

Gilbert catches him staring and glares at him, knowing what he's thinking about. They've been down that particular road before and despite how guilty Ludwig feels he can't get further than simply mentioning the topic before Gilbert either walks away or throws something at him to get him to shut up. The guilt sits on Ludwig like a stone, pushing down on his chest. His brother had a life, had a future, and he gave it all way to become this, an engineer's whipping boy for a brother who can't even sit up most of the time let alone pull his own weight. Useless.

Gilbert throws a boot at his head and Ludwig yelps. 'Get rid of that look from your face, I'm doing this because I want to, ya hear?'

Ludwig nods, because that's what his brother wants him to do.

'Good. Besides, it wouldn't have been half as bad if the head engineer wasn't such a dick. Rumour is that there's a boy genius on board we picked up at the last stop but when ol' Stevie went to get him to help the boy turned him down.' Gilbert gives a scoff. 'He's got balls, whoever he is. Either that or he's an idiot. Besides, if they'd let me have a look at it I could've probably done it.'

Ludwig rolls his eyes but refrains from saying anything further. He leaves Gilbert to undress and unwind in silence, only speaking to him again once he's sure his brother has relaxed enough.

'What if nothing changes, when we get to Earth.'

Gilbert, from where he's sprawled himself in their chair, visibly stiffens. He's obviously considered this too, then. Maybe the possibility has been on his mind just as much as it's been praying on Ludwig's. How could it not? 'It will.'

'But-'

'It will!' Gilbert has clenched his e-tab tighter, Ludwig can see the whites of his knuckles from here. 'It will, so there's no point worrying about it.'

Ludwig breathes deeply. 'It's something we've got to think about.' He says gently. If not for him, for what Gilbert will do next.

Gilbert curls his lip and refuses to look up. He prods his tab awake with more force than is needed. 'No, it's not. If it don't work, if you still can't do anything more than roll about, then at least you'll be better off than home.'

'I might be, but what about you?'

'What about me?' Finally, Gilbert looks up and he's furious. Gilbert is very free with his emotions, but never has anything negative been directed towards Ludwig before and it startles him. 'You think I was happy back there? Just because I was strong enough for them? Well you're just as fucking stupid as they were if that's so.' He stands up, crosses the room and starts to pull on his boots again.

'Gilbert-'

'You were wasting away there.' Gilbert's voice cuts though Ludwig like a knife because it's the truth, no matter how much he tries to deny it. 'They were happy to let you die if that's what it came to and I somehow was supposed to not care about that. It was fine, right? As long as they had one of us. But that meant I had to be everything, Lud. I had to be both of us and both of us had to be fucking perfect.'

Gilbert looks at him, curled up pathetically in bed and shakes his head at him, face unreadable. 'What kind of life is that?'

Boots on he wrenches open the door and walks out with a bang, leaving Ludwig mortified. How selfish of him.

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thevirtualcanvas · 4 years

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You don’t really know someone until you go on a desert island together ~

Steven's birthday aka the time Connie lured Steven to Watermelon island because I don’t want Steven to be sad anymore.

Yesterday was a really angsty piece. Today we get to see how he gets his first kiss. Hope you’re all ready for some proper fluff.

“Cmon Steven! We're almost there!”

They were on Watermelon Island, he knew that much. The first thing that gave it away was, well, he was the one that warped them there. The second was the split mountain that hung over his head behind the now fixed warped pad. The third thing was the party of Watermelon-Stevens that welcomed them with a bubbly joy, dragging him by one hand as Connie took the other.

“Connie, where are we going? There's so much to be done before little homeschool opens. My itinerary is clogged,” he thought of the planner on his phone, full of meetings, and jobs and far too many things to do.

Her laughter was infectious, her bright eyes warmed Steven's cheeks. “Well, Mr. Itinerary, I cleared your calendar for the day. Little home-world will just have to do without you, for a couple of hours anyway.”

“Connieeee,” he whined, haphazardly. It was so nice to see her, between his work orchestrating repairs after Spinel, integration of the gems, and meetings with his space Aunts; and Connie's high workload from school and her Mom they saw each other in glimpses. Mostly through video chats and the occasional moonlit jaunt via Lion. So holding her hand, and being led through the crystal jungle of the watermelon island – he could think of worse days to spend his birthday.

The palm trees gave way, the grass turned to sand and a beautiful cacophony of blues decorated the horizon, Steven had forgotten how nice it was here, relaxing even. On the sand sat a banner – Happy 16th Birthday Steven in Connie's lovely cursive handwriting. Beneath that was a picnic basket, blanket, his ukulele, and her violin and another batch of Watermelon-Steven's completing the finishing touches. He wasn't going to cry. Probably.

Connie held her hand out-stretched. “Ta-dah! Happy Birthday, Steven! You didn't think I'd forget, did you?”

“Connie, this is...this is incredible, thank you.”

He walked, enraptured by his surprise. The Watermelon-Stevens scampered to give them some privacy and peace. Steven kicked off his sandals, wriggled his toes in the sand, plonked himself down on the blanket and picked up his ukulele. The instrument had been sat in a stand on the shelf for months. Since the events of Spinel and her injector, he'd lost his child-like wonder, concerned that another attack could happen any moment, Steven had focused more on growing-up; putting away anything that would deem him childish, expanding little home-world, dealing with actual home-world and the Diamonds. His passion, his music, that had taken an unfortunate back-seat. He plucked at the strings, the sound reverberating through his fingers and up the length of his spine. Steven shivered, he missed this.

He took a deep breath, the first one in a long time, he listened to the sound of the ocean, the rustle of the palms and relaxing sounds of Connie breathing next to him. She plucked her violin first, playing and humming along to a creation of their own design.

The sun is bright, our shirts are clean.

Connie smiled brightly at him, loose strands of her pinned back hair danced among the breeze.

We're sitting up above the sea

Was her voice always this beautiful? It sounded like silk in his ears.

Come on and share this jam with me.

She looked at him expectantly, nodding her head as she strummed and hummed the tune. Carefully, slowly, Steven strummed along. In the back of his mind, he was worried he forgot, or worse, didn't want to. But that worry melted away at her sweet harmony, and sweeter face. As the mismatch of ukulele and violin merged tunes, Steven hummed in time with Connie, pulling up the unforgettable lyrics from his mind.

Peach or plum or strawberry.

Any kind is fine you see.

Come on and share this jam with me.

They played together, the simple chord a testament to their friendship, their devotion to one another and the memories of a simpler time. Playing again with Connie, it was the best present he could have ever asked for. To be in her presence, to forget about his responsibilities for just a little while – sure, her laugh, rich eyes, brilliant smile, lithe dexterous hands, and lean figure, made Steven a tad nervous and weak at the knees but it was Connie, his Connie and that was perfect.

I'll do my best to give this jam the sweetness it deserves ~

He sung at her, waggling his eyebrows in time to the vibrato, causing her to laugh, scrunching her nose.

And I'll keep it fresh.

Jammin' on these tasty preserves!

She sung back with enthusiasm, the fine strings of her violin plucking hard at her rocking out.

Steven's heart was racing, he hadn't felt this happy in months. Not true joy, not like this. Connie picked up her bow and slowed the rhythm down, ready for the climax of the song. Waiting on his queue, she watched her best friend carefully.

Ingredients in harmony.

We mix together perfectly.

Come on and share this jam with me.

The tune faded naturally, petering out in the ambiance of the ocean. They both breathed heavily, the duet taking more out of them then it would have done nearly 3 years ago. Steven placed his ukulele down, content, and Connie followed suit, keeping her eyes firmly on him. She moved closer, so their knees and hips were touching as they looked out onto the ocean.

“Jam buds, back in action,” Connie laughed, nudging him in the side. “Not bad, Mr. Itinerary.”

Steven snorted and nudged her back, taking off his sports jacket and wrapping it around his waist before leaning back into her. “I thought you're supposed to be nice on my birthday.”

“I am being nice,” she responded with a giggle. “Besides, this isn't the only thing I've planned for you. We're gonna have dinner with my parents, your dad and the gems later. Peridot is 'constructing' the birthday cake, my present for you is at the beach house and – ” She hummed and cleared her throat. A dusky hue rose on her cheeks.

“And?” Steven asked, curious.

Connie twiddled her fingers, puffed her cheeks and risked a glance at him. Steven had grown so much since dismantling the Diamond Authority. He was taller, give it another few months and he'd be taller than her for the first time in their friendship. His shoulders were broader, the material of the band shirt he wore stretched over his shoulder blades. His arms and legs had elongated, but she loved the way they felt around her. Connie felt a smug satisfaction whenever he would sit behind her, legs outstretched, arms around her neck. He would rest his chin against her shoulder as they watched a movie marathon, or Connie would read her newest book aloud to him. Steven's jaw, while still soft and round showed signs of a beard under the surface, the slightest five o'clock shadow discoloured his lower face. He would scratch absently, as if not quite used to this newfound adulthood. And what could she say, she'd noticed. Her jam bud was growing-up, and so was she.

“And...I have one more surprise. If you want it.”

His eyes lit up. “A secret present, what is it?” Steven pursed his lips and shook with joy. “Where are you hiding it? Do the Watermelon-Steven's have it? Oh man, I love surprises!”

She chuckled at his enthusiasm, this would make the next part of her surprise so much easier. He made everything easier. “Good to know you're not too old for surprise presents. Steven, do you trust me?”

He creased his brow, what kind of question was that. “Of course I do, Con. You're my best friend.”

Not for much longer if she had anything to say about it. This was a turning point in Connie's life. She loved Steven. She'd tell anyone as much. But recently a lot of mature thoughts crossed her mind; and between the trips in the Dondai, visits to the beach house and increasingly more tense sleepovers, Connie realised something. She loved Steven. Which didn't change much overall; she would do anything for him, want to be in his life for the rest of hers and, jam on the beach whenever possible. But she also wanted to kiss that adorable face of his.

“Good, so face me, and close your eyes. Keep 'em closed too. No peaking.” He complied, swiveled around, knees crossed, hands-on lap, and eyes locked tight.

Connie leaned forward, taking a sallow breath. She reached out of him, fingertips connecting with his cheeks warm at her touch. She could feel his cheeks dimple as he smiled, turning his head into her fingers. Connie brought her face closer, seeing the pores on his skin, his long lashes, and his soft pink lips.

His eyelids trembled a bit, like he was trying to search for her behind them. Connie, what are you – ”

“Don't peak,” she whispered, wetting her lips, running her fingers down to his neck and feeling as Steven hitches and freezes.

“Connie...” His breath felt hot against her lips, and name danced across her skin.

“Happy birthday, Steven.”

Her lips met his, certain, lacking confidence but wanting. They trembled against one another, this was new, scary and exciting all at once. Steven's hands mirrored hers, buried into the hair at the base of her neck, terrified to explore and desperate to hold. He turned his head, pressing his face further into hers. Button nose pressing into her cheek, tight curls brushed against her brow.

Connie pulled back, flustered, gasping for breath, hands around his neck, playing with the curls at his hairline. She licked her lips, tasting him against them.

Steven opened his eyes and touched his lips, feeling where Connie had just kissed him. He was shocked, giddy and he really wanted to do it again. He pressed his forehead against hers, interlocked his fingers around her back and grinned. How long had he daydreamed about this moment?

“Connie?”

“Yeah, Steven?”

“That was definitely a surprise.”

She snorted, rubbing her forehead against his. “I'm glad.”

He bit his lip, deep brown eyes reflected into hers. “Can we do it again?”

Their stomachs grumbled in tandem, Connie opened the picnic basket and reached for the sandwich on the top of the pile and shoved it into his mouth. “Maybe, after our picnic, and away from prying eyes.” She motioned to the sheepish group of Watermelon-Steven's half-poking out of the brush behind them. Some gave a little wave, others blew a kiss of their own.

“R-right,” Steven said with a mouthful of jam and bread.

Connie waved back to them before taking a sandwich of her own. She shuffled back up to Steven, her Steven and they enjoyed their picnic in peace and quiet. The tension was gone, replaced by a fondly remembered quiet comfort between them. His hand around her waist, her knee against his thigh, watching as the crystals danced in the shallow waters and the sun changed colour in the sky.

“Thanks for dragging me away from gem stuff,” he said after a while.

“You're welcome, it is your birthday, y'know.”

“I know... Connie?”

She turned to him, mid-afternoon light bringing out the warmth in her skin. “Yeah, Steven?”

His hands found her, connecting perfectly. He should just say it, he'd thought about it a million times before.

“I love you,” it was barely above a whisper, and he couldn't look her in the eyes. But he said it. He'd told her. He was holding his breath and going pink in the face. Thankfully not that kind of pink.

He watched as her face turned the same shade of pink as him, she reassured him with a squeeze of his chunky fingers and gave him the exact answer he needed. “Love you too, Steven.”

Maybe he could keep celebrating his birthday after all?

#steven universe #suf #steven universe post movie #connverse #connie maheswaran #connie x steven #fanfic #first kiss #fluff

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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 4 years

Text

New Beginnings (Part 9~ Last Part)

*Not My Gif*

~New Beginnings Master~

Post Date: 1-2-20

Paring: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Word Count: 2K

~Master~

~Series Master~

It was the middle of the night when you tugged on your denim jacket, walking down the streets of New York with crisp air making your cheeks blush. A buzzing in your pocket caught your attention as you pulled out your phone, smiling at the goofy picture of Peter that popped up.

You swiped to answer the call and put your phone to your ear. “Hey Pete.”

“Hey. Where are you?” You looked around knowing Peter wouldn’t approve of this as you focused back on the phone.

“Um, I’m spending the night at MJ’s.” You lied as Peter sighed into the phone. “Peter? What’s wrong?”

“J. Jonah Jameson keeps calling about an interview.” You stopped walking, the grip on your phone tightened and your jaw locked momentarily.

“That man needs to get a life.” Peter agreed with you before you started moving again. “After my dad died, he kept trying to get me to let him have an interview about taking over Stark industries. He wouldn’t take no for an answer and made up his own story about me freaking out on him.”

On the other line, Peter nodded his head. “I remember that story, Ned showed it to me.”

“I just wish he’d leave you alone after everything. I mean, first he tells the world you’re Spider-Man and then he tries to get the first interview. It’s awful.” Your phone beeped in your ear, letting you know it was time to hurry up your conversation. “Hey Peter, MJ and I are gonna watch a movie. Talk later?”

“Yeah. And Y/N?” You hummed back a yeah as you listened to Peter take a deep breath, undoubtedly smiling. “I love you.”

You joined his smile, your cheeks hurting from the stretch as you whispered back. “I love you too.”

You hung up first, checking your texts before movement in the corner of your eye caught your attention.

“I think we need to talk.” You said into the darkness as you put your phone in your pocket and crossed your arms. There was nothing but silence in the air as two figures stepped out of the alleyway, now barely lit by the flickering of the streetlamps next to you.

“Let’s talk.”

---

You took a deep breath, peaking through the curtain at the reporters talking to camera men or getting their things sorted out. It was your first press conference since your dad and you were one who called it. Peter stood next to you, looking over your shoulder as you turned around.

“Peter, I don’t know if I can do this. This is my dad’s thing, not mine.” You shook your head, letting your eyes close as Peter wrapped his arms around you.

“Hey, you’ll be alright! You’ll be alright. I’ll be right back here watching and you’ll do great.” He tried to comfort you, but you just grabbed his hand.

“You’re going out there with me.” He just stared at you, tipping his head to his side as you grinned.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Trust me?” Peter hesitated as he glanced to the crowd again but when his eyes fell on you again he nodded, trusting you with everything. “Ok, then let’s go.” You took one last shaky breath before pushing the curtain away, feeling the lights of cameras capturing yours and Peters actions. Peters eyes were locked on you, too scared to look anywhere but at you as you stepped up to the podium. You found Pepper and Morgan sitting in the front row as they gave you a thumbs up, making you relax slightly. The crowd quieted down, microphones and cameras preparing to catch every single word.

“I would like to address the rumors surrounding Quentin Beck and Spider-Man’s identity. The videos are fake. The voice recording you heard were made prior to the attack in London. Quentin Beck’s attack. He used the alias Mysterio to deceive me as well as our countries top protectors.” You began as Peter’s eyes widened. You knew lying was risky but you need to make things better.

“Quentin Beck is no one but an old Stark Industries employee fired prior to Mr. Parker’s internship. We believe that Beck was taking revenge on my father’s legacy by attempting to unmask Spider-Man. We believe that he had chosen Mr. Parker based on his new position in my fathers- my company“, whispers and camera flashes spurred across the crowd as you looked to Pepper and Morgan, both beaming at you, “-and his position in my life.” Without much thinking you grabbed onto Peter’s hand, receiving a squeeze from him as he stepped closer. You looked up to him, a smile turning up both your lips before looking back down at your paper and ignoring the bright flashing.

“Mr. Parker on the other hand is no one but a normal high schooler just trying to make it.” You took a steady breath before looking up into the sky, sighing with relief at what you saw. “And as I’m sure everyone can attest, cannot possibly be in two places at once. One of which is by my side and the other is flying above you all right now.”

Everyone gasped, turning towards the flying figure in the sun as they squinted their eyes, trying to get the best photo of Spider-Man. When Spider-Man landed right next to you, you gave him a high five, cameras flashing like crazy as Peter stood next to you freaking out.

“Thank you, no questions.” You spoke into the microphone as the final pictures of the three of you were taken and Spider-Man flew off in the sky once again and Peter and you made your exit off stage.

“That was amazing!” Peter beamed as you both walked down the stairs. As soon as your foot hit the last step, Peter grabbed you by the waist and spun you in the air. You let out a swarm of giggles as you grabbed onto his shoulders, enjoying the love display. Peter put you down and his hand trailed up to your chin, pulling it up for you to look at him. “You’re amazing.” He whispered as you blushed but chose not to hide it and risk losing the sight of Peter’s eyes.

“I try.” You joked before he swept you into a kiss. Happy and the rest of the remaining avengers all filed into the room, a few of them aweing at the sight while Sam started mocking you, Bucky joining in until you glared at them. “Grow up guys.” You told them, sticking your tongue out.

“Alright, Alright.” Sam said putting his hands in the air. “But seriously Y/N, you did good.”

“You were amazing girl.” Wanda pulled you into a bone crushing hug as you laughed, hugging her back. The team all agreed with each other that you had done good, sending away any of the nerves you had about the media believing.

Your phone buzzed as you held up a finger to them all, pulling it out and opening up the news. “Peter. Look.” You clicked on the newest link, one written by J. Jonah Jameson himself with a picture of Peter and Spider-Man up top.

“That was fast.” His voice wavered as you whispered into your ear. You nodded as your eyes darted across the headline.

Spider-Man identity confirmed not Midtown Student, Peter Parker

“We did it.” You mumbled in disbelief as you scrolled through the article. Peter read over your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your waist and every time he read something relieving, he pulled you closer and buried his nose in your hair.

“No Y/N. You did it.” He corrected as you smiled, looking into his chocolate brown eyes over your shoulder. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips as you smiled into it, only pulling away when you heard your name being shouted.

Morgan came running into the room, Pepper following closely behind as you swung Morgan into your arms.

“You were so good!” Morgan cooed as she wrapped her arms around your neck to hug you. You hugged your little sister, feeling Peter’s hand on your back when you picked her up and held her in your arms.

“Thanks Mo. I’m glad you liked it.” Pressing a quick kiss to her forehead she turned to Peter, her mouth dropping open.

“Peter! How were you in two places at once?!” Morgan asked as the room quieted down. Realization crossing everyone’s faces, even your boyfriends, as you smirked.

Bucky just took a step forward, turning towards the team before looking at the two teenagers in front of him, one who look almost as lost as he did and who with a satisfied smirk on her lips. “Yeah Spidey, how were you in two places?” Peter just raised his brow before crossing his arms and looking at you.

You shrugged, licking your lips. “Well…”

---

You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself and the scene in front of you.

Nick Fury and Maria Hill.

“You can change back now.” You told them as Fury’s head dropped in a smirk. Maria just looked at him, eyes wide as you came closer.

“He told me you’d figure it out.” Fury said as you shrugged, pulling your arms closer to your body.

“You’re not the best actors in the world.” You watched as the faces you knew to be Nick and Maria changed to reveal the faces of a pair of Skrulls, Talos and Soren. Smiling you stretched your hand to them. “I’m Y/N. Nice to... officially meet you.”

“So, how did you figure it out?” Soren asked you after shaking your hand, eying you up and down.

“Maria always answers my calls. And Fury would’ve had my ass for storming out of the base the way I did after meeting Mysterio. Figuring you guys were, well you guys, that took some work.” Soren and Talos shared impressed looks. Both a little embarrassed of their mistakes but you let them know they were still pretty good actors, just not for you.

“So why did you call us here Y/N?” Talos asked as he changed back into Fury in case someone saw a pair of aliens on the streets of Queens.

“I need a favor.”

---

“I just reminded Talos that it was his fault your identity was revealed and he agreed to help out.”

No one knew what to say. You figured this all out by yourself.

You did that.

You looked around at the shocked faces, everyone’s jaw dropped open as they stared at you. “You’re amazing.” Peter said as you turned to him, grabbing his hand.

“You already said that.” He just shook his head, telling you he didn’t care as he pulled you in for another kiss. You let out a giggle before pulling away and looking at your family.

“Your dad would’ve been proud of you.” Pepper told you, squeezing your outstretched hand. Your head dropped only slightly but you know she was right.

“Thank you, Pep.”

Happy asked the question on everyone’s mind. “So, now what?”

You hadn’t really thought about that. What was next for you? You took over your father’s company from Pepper, you got the guy you’d been in love with for years, you convinced the world Spider-Man was someone else, you figured out that S.H.I.E.L.D’s most trusted people weren’t themselves. But what now?

You looked down at your hands, fidgeting with your blouse as you cleared your throat. “I think- I think, if you all don’t mind, I think I want to un-retire.” You heard Peter’s faint gasp behind you as you turned to look at him with a small smile. “Turns out the world wasn’t done needing heroes.” Happy chuckled, sending you a wink.

“We’d love to have you back Y/N.” The team agreed, everyone coming in for a hug and when it was done Peter grabbed your arm, pulling you away from the group.

“Wanna go for a ride?” Peter whispered as you turned towards everyone, each of them engaged in their own conversation as you nodded. The two of you snuck away, heading out to the roof as Peter slipped on his Spider suit. “Ready?” he asked as you wrapped your arms around his neck before your legs made their way around his waist. He held you closer to him, pulling up his mask to give you a quick kiss.

You rested your head on his shoulder, looking out into the city as you smiled. “Ready.”

And the two of you were off.

A/N: It’s over! It feels weird ending this series, when I started I honestly had no idea where I wanted to go with this, so to have this ending it’s truly luck. I hope you guys like my ending with this and aren’t mad at it!

Please tell me what you thought of this series!

***Reblogging with NB tags***

Permanent: @literal-fand0m-trash @just4muggles @saturn-aka-six @nathaliabakes @whyamihere-bro @colored-confetti @wiseeggspickleslime @sadn0va @btsiguess-kpop @galacticstxrdust @independentgirl @wellhellotherelovey @hollymac79 @delicately-important-trash @emcchi @rauwz @herondalescecilys

Peter: @laic2299 @danielabetancourth @darktwistydiamond @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @missmulti

Marvel: @hahaboop @laic2299

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker headcanon #peter x reader #peter parker #spiderman far from home #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #spiderman x stark!reader #spiderman #spiderman fic #new beginnings #chapter 9 #last part

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timeisacephalopod · 5 years

Text

Have a TonyRhodey AU in which Tony is complaining about his children to Rhodey, who is not at all lost on the fact that Tony’s kids act like him so its kind of funny that he’s mad about it.

Rhodey laughs, hand covering his mouth and Tony lets out a noise of frustration. “Stop that! You don’t get it, Peter was being deliberately stupid. Like who decides to walk up to the cops with information on the asston of property damage and say ‘do you want the tea?’ instead of just telling them what happened?”

He doesn’t say anything about that time he and Tony got into a nasty car wreak that neither of them should have survived let alone come out untouched only to tell the cop that he’d rather be eating a burger than talk to them. And he did this for an hour until he got the damn food, then he continued to purposefully badger the cop because he thought it was funny. So its really not shocking that Peter thinks irritating the cops is funny too, he comes by it honestly. “That’s pretty funny,” he says and Tony’s eyes bug out of his head.

“No! Give him those ‘respect cops’ talks you always gave me, shithead!”

Rhodey squints, “I gave you ‘don’t torment cops with your black friend in shooting range’ lessons, lets not twist things. And no, parent your damn self you were the one that adopted like fifty kids.”

“Excuse you we have three and one is part time Pepper’s so she barely even counts so really we have two kids and a pest,” Tony says. “Fifty kids my ass. And you’re his parent to, do parent things,” he says, poking Rhodey in the side.

He smacks Tony’s hand away, “stop that. And Morgan is your actual child, how’s she count less?”

“Because Pepper has her equal time, Rhodey. And they’re all my actual kids, just because one was once a sperm that was-”

“Okay, you don’t need to finish that sentence. Peter sassing the cops is so not the worst thing he could be doing. Remember that ridiculous Jake Gyllenhaal looking bastard with the fish bowl head? Absolutely worse shenanigans than asking the cop if he wants the tea. Just saying.” And Peter is a good kid too, the least troublesome one they have and the little bastard got bit by a radioactive spider and became a superhero. But he’s the least troublesome kid they have. Sometimes Rhodey wonders if Tony is secretly Harley’s actual father because they share way too much in common and how come none of the kids are like him? Rude.

“Fine, Peter being a dick to cops is fine. Harley nearly died twice because, and this is a quote, ‘I wanted to make a cool Tik Tok.’ I had to look up what the fuck that was,” Tony says, exasperated.

Yeah, Harley is a certified Dumb Bitch but if Tik Tok and superheroes had been around in their youth he knows he’d have to find a way to save Tony’s dumb ass as he made videos in the middle of superhero battlefields. Shit, if that was the case in their youth deciding to make cool videos would have been Iron Man’s origin story instead of the terrorist thing.

“Tones you know you’d do the same thing, you can’t really judge the kid,” he says reasonably.

If it were possible for steam to blow out of Tony’s ears it would have. “He almost died twice under crumbling buildings for a twelve second video with Mii music in the background captioned ‘my last brain cell trying to avoid death while I ruin my life.’ He almost died twice for that,” Tony says like he didn’t once give out his personal address to terrorists only to be surprised when they blew up his house. And that’s one of the less dumb things Tony has done that’s nearly resulted in his death.

“Uh huh. Baby I hate to tell you this, but he’s just acting like you,” he says, wincing a little as he says it.

Tony reacts exactly how he thinks he would, mostly offended about it. “Rhodey, that is the problem. I’m an idiot, I like to think I have raised my kids to not be idiots.”

“Eh,” Rhodey says, waving hand. Tony smacks him playfully.

“Don’t be rude and talk to the kid, he listens to you,” he says like Harley doesn’t listen to him too.

“Its a phase, he’ll get through it,” Rhodey says.

“He almost died for a twelve second video that is an insane phase! Why are you not worried about his safety?” he asks, confused.

“I’m assuming this was the same event where Peter asked the cops if they wanted the tea, yeah?” he asks.

Tony huffs, “that’s not the point.”

“Is so. I know you wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him and neither would Peter, he was fine. Stupid, but fine. Besides, I can’t talk braincells into the kid,” he points out. “Didn’t work on you anyway.”

“Well... can you just talk to him?” Tony asks, shoulders slumped.

Rhodey shrugs, “yeah, alright. I doubt I’ll do more than you did but I can talk to the kid.” Tony nods, visibly relieved and Rhodey waits for him to go on but he doesn’t. “And Morgan?” he asks, figuring she’s gotten into some kind of something this week. Last time he got an update she tried to bleach her hair so she could dye it pink except she’s five so that didn’t go well and Tony spent a lot of time yelling about potentially going blind while Morgan watched on. Her only defense was that she’s not dumb, she knows not to bleach her eyes.

He’d had to leave that alone too and he and Pepper had a quiet moment about how Tony one hundred percent would have done the same thing. Kind of did in college when he decided to go blond and he looked awful. Then he decided the solution was shaving his hair short, which mostly made him look like a skin head so Rhodey told him to dye his hair back but Tony’s dramatic ass hid under the bed for a month until it grew out enough to leave for more than a few hours at night to eat, shit, and shower. So really, Morgan was just reaching out to some Stark genes there and she was fine, if sporting some awful hair, so he and Pepper got a good laugh out of Tony’s reaction.

“Oh she’s fine, turns out she’s a music prodigy so there's that. But I’m sure she’ll do some stupid thing soon. In the meantime though she’s not doing anything particularly stupid so that’s nice, I’ve got my hands full with Harley and Peter anyway.”

That doesn’t surprise Rhodey much, she insults Tony’s music taste too much to not know things about it. “Guess she had some insight when she told you Alice Cooper was worse than Barney,” he says and Tony makes an offended noise.

“She did not!”

Rhodey looks over the kids sternly until Morgan raises her hand. “I didn’t even do anything so can I leave?” she asks. He nods and she grins, taking off presumably to go harass Tony about his music that she’s deemed awful. Tony has threatened to disown her four times today alone.

Harley and Peter wilt a little and Rhodey sighs. “Harley, nearly dying for a Tik Tok is not nearly a cool enough death to risk it. Peter, that’s hilarious. Keep pissing off New York’s finest, you’re bullet proof anyway. Stop doing it in front of your father though, I’m tired of Tony losing his ass about it.”

Peter frowns, “I’m not bullet proof.”

“I rescind that, stop pissing off New York’s finest, I don’t put it above at least one of them to shoot Spiderman. Harley, learn how to edit, man. What the hell are you doing running around in superhero battles for? Go ask Ned if you need help with it, you know Ned is good at editing and he’s a good boy, I’m sure he’d help you.” Helped Peter hack into his suit and they both thought Tony didn’t know right away like he didn’t plan for the possibility that someone would tamper with the suit Peter or otherwise. Ned got himself a job out of it and Peter got grounded, which meant no Spiderman.

“Please don’t call Ned a good boy,” Peter says, wrinkling his nose.

“Hey, I found another Spiderman and his suit is way cooler than Peter’s!” Morgan says from behind them. Rhodey turns to find a kid standing there in an admittedly very cool design but its clearly painted over one of Peter’s suits. He’d recognize one of those suits anywhere the design is so unique. He turns to Peter, who smacks Harley.

“You said he was well hidden!” he hisses.

“Morgan’s a busybody, you know that!”

“He was in your closet, that’s not well hidden. You should have hid him under the sink,” Morgan tells them, hands on her hips.

Rhodey lets out a long suffering sigh. “Alright kid, who are you?”

“I’m not Miles Morales. I’m some other guy,” he says, looking away and Rhodey hopes this kid has loving parents because he’s absolutely dumb enough for Tony to adopt.

“Yeah alright, lets get you to the lab so you can get your own suit. Peter, you can explain yourself to your father and Harley, you too. Morgan... good work,” he says awkwardly but Morgan looks proud of herself so at least there’s that. Miles looks upset that he’s outted himself but it does seem like Peter is incapable of finding friends who are good liars. Better for him and Tony though so he’ll take it.

#tonyrhodey #ironhusbands #fanfiction #canon divergent au #tony x rhodey

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themaskedwriter · 5 years

Text

Never Gonna Give You Up

Pairing: Peter Parker x Teen!Reader

Word Count: 1979

Summary: There’s a prank war going on that has to do with a certain song, but no one is owning up to it. The only people amused are Peter and his s/o that gave him the idea. Then Peter decides to turn on you, but you don’t really mind.

Warnings: Rick Astley, if that counts

A/N: I love prankster Pete, it’s just so wholesome

Clues: The color red on nearly any character is one of my weaknesses, I’m a Pisces and astrology is one of my many hobbies, and I call my hometown “yeehaw territory”

————-

“We’re no strangers to love

You know the rules and so do I

A full commitment’s what I’m thinking of

You wouldn’t get this from any other guy”

Tony was confused. He did not remember adding the Rick Astley classic to his hard rock playlist, or any other playlist for that matter. But it was still being heard by friend and for during a raid on a HYDRA base, completely baffling everyone there.

All he wanted to do was kick ass and listen to AC/DC while he did so. Was that too much to ask? Apparently.

No matter what he did, what song he tried to skip to, the command was overridden and that cursed song continued to play. He couldn’t focus on fixing his playlist mid-battle, so he just worked around it and planned very satisfying revenge for whoever did this.

————-

Peter showed you some of the audio from the previous mission, Tony fumbling and cursing when his audio wasn’t cooperating and the rest of the team laughing or groaning in shared annoyance.

By the end of the audio, you both were rolling around on the bottom bunk of his bed in hysterical laughter. You had brought the idea up about using the song-that-became-a-meme to your boyfriend during chemistry class. Needless to say, it yielded terrific results. “Babe, that was absolutely genius!”

“Come on, you know you did the heavy lifting. Hacking into the Iron Man suit? That is absolutely insane!”

Peter’s smile took over his whole face as he let himself feel a little bit of pride for the accomplishment. Maybe it was time to step it up a notch. It was to impress you, after all…

————-

During target practice the next day, Clint’s day had started normally. He woke up a good two hours after everyone else and drank a pot of coffee, nothing unusual.

His bow and quiver were still safely stored in the weapons vault and they looked completely untampered with. Extending an invite to Nat and Bucky, the trio headed to the indoor shooting range.

Headphones on. Targets ready. Arrow notched. Arm pulled back. Deep breath in.

Fwoosh!

Thud!

“Never gonna give you up

Never gonna let you down

Never gonna run around

And desert you!”

“Clint, what the-”

“Turn it off, man!”

“I don’t know what’s happening!”

Clint has no clue why his arrow sang when it hit the target. Maybe it was a dud or something since he knew that he didn’t add that option to his arrows. An interesting dud, but a dud nonetheless.

“What do we do?!”

“Try shooting another arrow at it!”

Fwoosh!

Thud!

“Never gonna make you cry

Never gonna say goodbye

Never gonna tell a lie

And hurt you!”

“It’s happening again!”

“No shit!”

“Try another one!”

Before Clint could fire another arrow at the target, Nat snatched the bow from his hands. “For all we know, every single one of these arrows sing! No one is firing anything!” The redhead jumps over the barrier and to Clint’s target, promptly yanking the arrows out of the center of the target and snapping them in two.

The audio is distorted for a few seconds before crackling out, a couple sparks coming from the bugged arrows.

“That was an adventure. Who wants lunch?” Clint offers, giving up on target practice for the day.

“We literally just ate breakfast two hours ago, how are you hungry?” Nat raised an eyebrow at her friend.

“Doesn’t matter, let’s eat.”

————-

Since becoming an Avenger (kinda), Peter had been given his own lab that was connected to Bruce and Tony’s in case something went wrong. In this lab he had access to both Karen and FRIDAY, the AI’s being extremely useful to the teen for various reasons.

Sometimes he asked about certain formulas or the whereabouts of his mentor(s), but today he asked FRIDAY to show him the video feed from the shooting range.

You were perched on one of Peter’s worktables, legs dangling off the edge. There was a bowl of popcorn at the ready, just waiting for the show. Peter sat in the chair next to you and leaned his head against your leg, one hand rubbing it affectionately.

You both disregarded the small talk coming from the trio in favor of the reason you were watching in the first place: the latest prank.

At first, you both succeeded in keeping your laughter at an acceptable volume. The key words were “at first” because when Bucky told Clint to shoot another arrow at the first arrow, Peter lost it. The thing about Peter’s laughter was that it was contagious, and his laughter caused you to fall apart not far behind.

“Pete! Y/N! What in the world-” At the sound of the region’s voice in the lab, Peter hastily closed the video feed, hoping Tony didn’t realize what was going on.

“Nothing, Mr. Stark! We’re not doing anything! Just, uh…”

“Watching cat videos! You should have seen Snuggles when his claws got stuck to the curtain! Comedy gold!”

Tony gave the two of you an incredulous look. He didn’t know what you were up to, but he knew you guys weren’t laughing that hard at the demise of Snuggles. “Right… just keep it down a bit, will ya? Bruce dropped a beaker of chlorine trifluoride and now we have a new window straight down into the gym.” Tony left the lab as quickly as he arrived, leaving you be.

Once he was gone, Peter gave you a look that said “how did you think of that on the spot?!” because your boyfriend is literally the worst liar you have ever met.

You shot him a wink as you turned the video feed back on, not failing to notice how he shifts closer to you and wraps his arms around your leg, arms resting on the top of your foot. It took you a little while to get used to your boyfriend’s cuddly nature, seeing as he is more than willing to have any kind of physical contact, no matter how unconventional, at any given time.

————-

Neither of you kept track of how many times you played the footage over, but it was indeed more than a dozen.

But during about the sixth repeat, your boyfriend had an idea all his own, and decided to enlist the help of his mentor. He had been asking you for help with the elaborate pranks in your previous endeavors, but this was an idea that you couldn’t help him bring to life.

————-

“So why are you doing this song? Any… special reason for it?”

Tony was glad to help Pete with his plan, but the fact the teen had chosen this song made him realize two things: one, you and Peter were the culprits behind the hacking of his suit as well as the mods on Clint’s arrows; and two, Peter was completely and utterly in love with you, whether the kid knew it or not.

Peter’s cheeks tinted at the question, not wanting to give the whole truth but also not wanting to expose the both of you. So he settled for a middle ground and hoped that Tony didn’t completely see through it. “It’s a song that means a lot to both of us, and it’s also a promise of sorts.”

Tony could tell that he was a bit reserved about telling much more and so the tycoon let it drop, favoring to work in silence (well, almost silence if you count the Rick Astley hit playing occasionally).

————-

Friday night, and you were all alone. Everyone that was normally at home with you had something better to occupy their time, leaving you to your own devices. Peter was out in the city patrolling, Ned was with his parents at some sort of family get-together for the weekend out of state, and MJ had found a way to some protest upstate.

Right when you get home from school that afternoon, you began to marathon the latest season of GLOW with junk food on standby. This was one of the only shows you didn’t have a binging partner with, so there was no risk of offending any of your friends about watching ahead.

Just as the third episode was starting to get good, there was a thud against your bedroom window. You found that quite peculiar since you lived on the top floor of a Queens brownstone, so you decide to investigate.

Resting your laptop beside you, you move aside your curtains and try to see by the streetlamps whether or not there was an animal on the windowsill. Seeing nothing, you head back to your bed. Right when you pick up your laptop, you hear it again.

Of course.

Groaning as you set your laptop back down on the bed, you open your window once again and this time, you take a better look at your surroundings. You looked beside your windows and found nothing, but when you looked down, there was Peter in front of… a car?

When did Peter get a car?!

You were about to ask him that very question when your eyes caught a metallic glint that certainly wasn’t this random car. It was a boombox, and when he saw that you noticed him, he immediately picked it up and pressed ‘play,’ holding it above his head like it was Simba.

The familiar instrumental nearly made you fall out of the window in laughter. Nothing, however, compared to your amusement when your cheesy ass boyfriend decided to sing along.

“We’re no strangers to love

You know the rules and so do I

A full commitment’s what I’m thinking of

You wouldn’t get this from any other guy”

That’s it, everyone else go home. Peter Benjamin Parker was the cutest boyfriend on the planet.

You could tell Peter was having a great time, his smile nearly taking over his face. He was wearing jeans and a sweater over his Spidey suit (you could see the telltale red on his hands and wrists and he wasn’t wearing shoes), and his hair was tousled from what you assumed to be his mask. ‘He must have stopped at your house mid-patrol,’ you realize with a smile.

“I just wanna tell you how I’m feeling

Gotta make you understand”

Before he gets to the chorus, he sets the boombox back on top of the car’s hood and begins to dance… if you could call it that. It was honestly just a very spot-on copy of Rick’s swaying thing that he did the entire video. You honestly didn’t care how he moved about; this was the cheesiest thing you had ever seen, and it was your boyfriend doing it! Peter, the biggest, cuddly dork you knew, was doing this for you.

Obviously he chose this song because of your pranking endeavors from the past few weeks, but it was more than RickRolling the Avengers.

“Never gonna give you up

Never gonna let you down

Never gonna run around

And desert you!

Never gonna make you cry

Never gonna say goodbye

Never gonna tell a lie

And hurt you!”

Peter kept swaying and singing, completely ignoring the yelling and hollering from your neighbors about the noise. He kept his eyes on you as he sang along with the hit and you couldn’t even bring yourself to care about the people outside of your little bubble with Pete. Part of you dared one of your neighbors to call the cops because what were they going to do, arrest Spider-Man?

Once he finished, you immediately left your window and ran downstairs. Peter was leaning against the mystery car, just waiting for you to run up to him. You did, predictably, and instead of staying outside in the cold, you pulled him inside of your brownstone and didn’t let him leave your side the rest of the night.

#fic

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just-my-fandom · 5 years

Text

Rewrite! SOTB (Peter Parker x Stark! Reader)

Original

Request; hi bub, remember that imagine you did with peter as your boyfriend and tony as your dad, when you almost die? (Stayed On The Bus) but like you survived and all, how about uhm a redo of that but like she actually dies, i'm sorry hahaha i love angst so much

Note; The beginning of this story is EXACTLY THE SAME as the original!! So please do not @ me that its the same because I KNOW

__________________________________________

“Y/N? Y/N, can you hear me?”

The tickle of your hair on your face drags you from your unconsciousness, face twisting in pain at the sharp daggers in your side,

“Hey,” A voice drags out softly, soothing you when you emit a whimper, “Hey, I’m right here, it’s Peter,”

A hand from the voice cups the back of your head, resting in against their chest so you could hear their thudding heart beat,

You let your eyelids pull open, taking in a deep breath and exhaling sharply at the burns,

“Peter?” You question, hand clutching at the suit holding onto you and eyes searching for the voice, “Peter,”

“I’m right here,” The superhero tugs off his mask, brown eyes meeting yours to reveal harsh tears, “Im right here Y/N I promise,”

“It hurts,” You release a soft sob, Peter brushing hair from your eye’s to cup the side of your face, holding it close to his,

“I know,” He breathes out a trembling breath, “M-Mr. Stark will be here soon, he’s going to help you,”

You shake your head, feeling the tear that slid down Peters cheek fall onto yours, “Dad can’t help me,”

“Don’t say that,” Peter swallows, rocking you slowly to ease you, “Its going to be okay, we’ll go back home and we’ll be with Ned and MJ again,”

“We should have stayed on the bus,” You crack a smile, Peter breaking a laugh and leaning down, allowing his lips to press roughly to yours in what he didnt know was your last kiss,

“Kid!” Tony lands on his feet yards away from the two teenagers, Rhodey following quick behind,

“Mr. Stark,” Peter looks up at the man in the armor, “She needs help,”

“Karen, check vitals,” Tony kneels down at your other side, hand at the wound,

“She is suffering from blood loss, a minor conscusion, a broken wrist, and needs to seek immediate hospitality,”

Tony glances to the side, cursing beneath his breath, “We can’t just walk into a hospital in our armor,”

“Mr. St-stark? She’s not waking up,” Peters panicked and red brimmed eye’s look up at Tony, tightening around you, “You have to help her, please, I can’t lose her too, Mr. Stark, I just can’t,”

“Kid,” Tony alerts firmly, eyes sharp, “I’m going to need you to remain calm, for my daughter. You understand? We’re going to take her back to my house and aid her there. But you have to go home and tell May you’re safe,”

“And leave her?” Peter stammers, a tear falling down his chin, “She risked her life for us, I-I’ll call May, tell her Im okay,”

“May needs to see you in person, Peter,” Tony growls, “I know you’re upset, but you need to trust me,”

“Okay,” Peter exhales deeply, slowly letting Tony pull you up bridal style,

“I’ll send you the address to my house,” Tony nods once, “She’ll be okay, kid,”

__________________________________________

"You lied to me!"

Steves hands come to the front of Peters chest, holding him back far away enough from Tony to give Tony space,

"You said she'd be okay, you promised!"

Tony looks up to meet Peters blood shot eye's, his own glistening as he curled his fists,

"Kid," He pleas, flinching slightly when Peter throws a hand in front of him, pointing his finger,

"Dont call me that," Peter orders lowly, chest heaving of an ungoing panic attack, "Dont ever call me that again. I trusted you. I went to see Aunt May because I thought Y/N was taken care of but instead she's gone,"

"She lost too much blood," Steve tries to explain, heart cracking at his goddaughters boyfriend, "We weren't able to get blood back into her in time,"

"You didnt try hard enough," Peter glares upwards at Steve, face falling instantly as tears continued to fall, "We should have stayed on the god damn bus,"

"She recorded something for you," Tony exhales, Peter looking over at his boss, "You'll need to see it,"

. . .

"Is this on?" The blue hologram of the female Stark leans forward, tapping the camera to Tonys helmet,

"Yes it's on now dont scratch it," Tonys voice replies gruffly behind the helmet, and you grin at him off camera, before looking back at the helmet,

"Okay, well," You sigh, and rest your arms on the back of the kitchen chair you sat in, "Hey, Peter. I know at the moment you're in some kind of dimension thing, but, we think we found a way to bring you back,"

Your gaze drifts off camera, eyes falling shut,

"Im recording this in case something happens," You shrug, and Peter realizes you're in pajamas and the clock behind you read almost two in the morning,

You and Tony never slept when you realized you could bring your family back,

"Thanos no longer has the stones. According to him they vanished after he snapped his fingers. But we can bring the stone backs and bring you back. Hopefully you'll see this video because we did it," A smile tugs at your lips,

"Im willing to die to bring everyone back. My fathers a hero, and its my turn to be one, too. Please dont be mad at me if something does happen to me, because I wanted it to happen. Maybe we should have stayed on the bus,"

You rest your chin on your hand, sniffling softly, "Okay. Im done," You push off the chair, walking up to the helmet and before you turn it off, you lean down to look into the camera, "I love you Peter," and the camers clicks,

Peter blinks his eyes slowly. Tears slipped down his cheeks, but his hands couldnt move to wipe them away

Peter inhales a shaken breath, leaning back in his seat and directing his eyes to stare at his mask resting on his knee,

"Dad, let me see the camera, please,"

Peter looks up, eyes wide. Its you, again,

The camera shifts from Tonys face to yours, your face pale and the beeping of the heart monitor made you squint to indicate your headache,

"Hey Peter," You smile warmly, coughing into your hand, "We did it,"

Tony and Steve glance at each other, Steve patting his shoulder and directing him into the hallway,

"I think this really is the end," Your voice is weak, lower than when he held you on the battlefield, "I dont think Im going to survive this one Pete,"

You inhale deeply, looking off the camera then back, "Please dont be mad at me," A sob breaks through and Tonys hand comes to view, but You stop him from taking the helmet with the camera, "I did this for everyone. We got everyone back. Uncle Clint has his wife and kids back, the raccoon has his galaxy family, I got you back,"

"Tell Ned and MJ im sorry," A tear slides down your jaw, "I'm loosing a lot of blood and only medicine is keeping me awake," You inhale deeply, "I'm glad you got to see your Aunt May again, but I wish you were here with me Peter,"

Another deep breath, "You got to move on after I'm gone Peter. Please. You moved on from Liz so you can move on from me too. I-I believe in you,"

You sniffle, and shake your head, "I love you so much Peter, please dont be mad at Dad either, he tried, so so hard,"

You set the helmet in your lap, hands coming to press to your face and the camera lifts up when Tony sinks into the bed beside you to pull you into his embrace,

"Im sorry dad," Peter seems to make out, and your arms slide to Tonys back, "Im so sorry,"

Tony wraps his arms strongly around you, and the video cuts off. Peter leans forward so his head rested in his hands, and he grips at his hair tightly,

He was beyond pissed with Tony, but you didnt want him to. He was still stuck on you, but you wanted him to move on. He was mad at you, mad at Thanos, mad at the people who let a God damn teenage girl risk her life, but you didnt want him to be,

So he forgave Tony. He moved on, in time. He forgave you, he was still mad at Thanos, but he forgave the people because they all knew you were doing what you loved,

Being a hero

#peter parker x stark reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x sister reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #tony stark imagine #tony stark x reader #tony stark #tonyxpeter #avengers endgame #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers

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thefinalexperiment · 4 years

Text

The Final Experiment Chapter 28: James Buchanan Barnes

Peter Parker x OC

A/N: So I just wanted to preface by saying this chapter is fairly intense. Not necessarily violent, but just a bit more intense than an average chapter. The italics are flashbacks, any dialogue in the flashbacks is in Russian. It was way too much to run through Google translate lol. Hopefully you will enjoy getting some answers about Kait and Bucky's history together!

P.S.

This is the longest part I've ever written, at almost 3,000 words, so celebration time for a new record!

I will no longer be linking things on new part posts due to dumblr and the link censoring, and just to be safe from any potential image post censoring, I will also not be including covers on my stories. All previous parts can be found in my masterlist, in my bio!

Warnings: This part contains a brief description of a knife wound, imminent danger to a child, and generally more intense themes than previous parts

---

When we arrived back at the tower, the medical alarms on the transportable equipment they’d hooked Bucky up to began blaring and beeping like crazy. I jumped to my feet before we had fully touched down.

“What’s going on?” Natasha demanded as the exit ramp lowered.

“He’s lost too much blood,” one of the medics said, unfolding the wheeled legs of the gurney. “He’s gonna need a major transfusion, ASAP.”

“We’re the same blood type,” I said quickly. I reached to peel my gloves off, but Natasha stopped me with a gentle touch to my shoulder.

“Kaitlynn…” she said softly, “You can’t. You’d risk infecting him with the Ainterbach symbiote…”

My heart was pounding so hard I feared my chest was going to burst, Alien style.

“But…”

The medics clicked the gurney into place and began to wheel my father away.

“Don’t worry, Kait,” Steve said, unbuckling the top part of his Captain America suit as he moved to follow them. “Buck and I are the same type too, and the super soldier serum will help him heal. We have plenty of backup CCs on base for this exact occasion in case he needs more.”

With that, he was gone, headed off to the medbay.

What had just happened? It felt like the world was on fast-forward while my brain was in slow motion. Normally, my mind was ten steps ahead of everyone, but right now, I was dumbfounded and frozen.

“Hey, Kait,” someone said, trying to get my attention. I couldn’t tell who. There was a gentle tug on my arm, guiding me inside, sitting me down. “Kait, look at me…”

I was so lost in my own head, I wasn’t even aware of who was talking to me, much less where to look at them.

“Kaitlynn, you’re making it snow…”

I snapped out of my stupor at that, suddenly glancing around. Sure enough, flurries of snowflakes fluttered around my head. Natasha’s hand cupped my chin, obviously trying to get me to focus. Wait, what?

“You’re touching me,” I whispered. “You’re touching me and you’re okay…”

She paused, as if just realizing it herself.

“I am…”

I laughed, and, for the first time in over a year and a half, I willingly and joyfully wrapped my arms around her in a hug. She held me close, and I wondered if this was what a motherly embrace was meant to feel like. Suddenly, I pulled back, thinking of something.

“But I don’t understand,” I said, “What’s changed?”

Natasha shrugged.

“I think you have,” she offered. “This is the most vulnerable and open you’ve ever been… these past few days, with all that’s happened and everything that’s come to light… It’d be a lot for anyone to handle. I’d say you’ve taken it all pretty well in stride. Maybe the more you learn to control your emotions - control, not suppress - the more you can control your powers.”

I nodded slowly. That made sense. I let out a deep breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding.

“It’s just… it’s all so crazy. Yesterday, I wanted to kill Bucky, and today, I--” I paused. “Oh m… I… I called him dad…”

Natasha laughed softly.

“Well I wasn’t gonna mention it, but yes, you did.”

“That… that was like, instinct…” I frowned. “It wasn’t just a slip… It was… familiar.”

“Maybe you should take a look at those video files,” Nat said. “It might have some of the answers you’re looking for.”

“Maybe… we should take a look at them…” I suggested softly. I looked up at her, and we held each other’s gaze for a moment.

Then, she nodded.

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

She nodded again, then stood.

“Alright then. Let’s see what’s on that flashdrive.”

---

I plugged the flash drive into the meeting room hub, and the hologram flickered to life. Natasha flicked through a few options until she found the files we were after.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“No,” I said honestly, “But it has to be done.”

Natasha nodded, then pressed play on the file. On the hologram screen, a scientist addressed the camera in Russian.

“Winter Soldier and Child, Entry Number One. Today, we will introduce the Asset to the Offspring, age nine. The Asset was recently wiped and reprogrammed, no orders given yet. The Offspring has been given the most basic and rudimentary conditioning. This test will determine the strength of the Asset’s paternal bond. We wish to see if he will behave differently around her of his own accord. If not, we will inform him that we created her from him, and that he is to train her so as to one day surpass his skill. Should either of these yield a reaction, the wipe and reprogram process will need further adjustment to remove emotional connection or weakness.”

The screen switched to security footage from the compound. I held my breath when I saw my younger self on the screen. She obediently sat on a chair, opposite the complacent Winter Soldier, who looked to be awaiting a command of some kind. Her hair was lighter than I ever remembered mine being when I was normal… it must have darkened with age. I know that happens sometimes.

“Soldier,” said one of the… the trainers, I suppose you could call them. “This is your new charge. Say hello.”

It was clear that the last bit was a joke. The Soldier glanced at the little girl, who stared right back. She looked him in the eye, unafraid. Or maybe it was her assassin genes showing, telling her not to back down, to never show fear or weakness… To always be the one to challenge. But, oddly enough, her gaze held no challenge. She was not passive either, however. More… expectant. She was watching the Soldier, as if waiting on him.

The Soldier watched her in return. For a while, it seemed he might simply continue to regard her passively, but, after a moment, his face twitched ever-so-slightly into a frown. His expression was dazed, as if he was registering something off. It wasn’t clear if his hesitation came from the fact that he’d just been told he, a lethal killer, was now in charge of a child… Or if, perhaps, because he sensed she was more than just a child.

The scientist off to the side wrote something on his clipboard, then asked, “Is something wrong, Soldier?”

The Soldier let his face relax back into neutral and shook his head, almost imperceptibly.

“Very good… Now, before you begin with training her, I want to ask you, how do you feel, knowing that this is your child, Soldier?”

The creak of the grinding plates in his arm echoed through the room. Now, the expression written on his face was unmistakable. No longer was he a blank slate. His eyes were alight with a simmering fire. This was James Buchanan Barnes breaking through, even if not fully. Still, the Soldier did not speak. His dark gaze fixed on the scientist, then the guards, then the child, who had never stopped watching him. It was as if he were trying to calculate whether or not he could take them all and get her out safely…

“Enough of this,” the scientist said, “Time for reconditioning.”

The first file clicked off. I hadn’t realized I was trembling, ever so slightly.

“We don’t have to watch these all today,” Natasha said.

“No,” I said almost instantly. “I have to know. I have to remember…”

Nat sighed, but switched it over to the next file. It was that scientist again.

“Winter Soldier and Child, Entry Number Two. The Asset shows particular weakness when it comes to the Offspring. The programming lasts longer with each new method, but upon training her, he begins to slip. The Offspring, however, is beginning to become inquisitive. Memory wipe may be needed in the future. Cryofreeze will be utilized when the Soldier needed for a mission or is put in storage with no other trainer available. Other methods may be needed to bring the Offspring to a more lethal level than the Asset. This month, we shall attempt to spur further progress by utilizing the Asset’s weakness.”

I knew my childhood had been wiped away, but hearing it suggested so casually was much more jarring than I had thought it would be.

The Soldier was training the girl to fight. Trying to, anyways. Nine year olds aren’t exactly known for outstanding motor skills. Though this girl was obviously smarter than any other her age, she was still having difficulties mastering the physical aspects of it. More than a few times, a hit from the Soldier sent her sprawling. He stood menacingly, waiting for her to get to her feet.

“Do not let her get up, Soldier!” a guard barked. “If she cannot defend herself, she must pay the price!”

The Soldier’s jaw clenched, but other than that, he didn’t react.

“Enough,” the scientist scoffed in disgust, “He is weak! Take her to the Foreman.”

For the first time, The little girl’s expression changed. Her eyes widened, and she reached out for the Soldier.

“No, Soldier, please, do not let them!” she cried.

The Soldier made a move to go to her, but a quick reprimand, and several guns pointed at him held him back as she was dragged away.

The Foreman… The sound of that name sent icy fear into me, even though I didn’t know why. In this next tape, the scientist had aged… It seemed a few years had passed since the last entry.

“Winter Soldier and Child, Entry Number Three. The Asset was placed on cryofreeze for three years until better programming could be developed. His connection to the Offspring is becoming a problem. The Offspring has been trained by the Foreman in the Asset’s absence. It is time to test her against the Asset once more, to see where improvements can be made.”

The fight between them was much more lethal than in the previous entries. Now three years older and with far more training, she lasted far longer in each bout against the Soldier. At least, until the trainers insisted on testing her weapons proficiency.

By the way she moved, the girl was no stranger to knives. But against the Soldier, she was like a kitten chasing a string. She managed to plunge her knife into his bicep, but he used this to his advantage and pulled her off balance. With this one false move, the Soldier sliced a wound from the outer side of her right collarbone, curving to the top of her sternum. She cried out and released the knife from her right hand, exactly as the Soldier had intended.

But then, the Soldier did something no one expected. He dropped his own knife and pressed his flesh hand over her deep cut.

The scientist was heard cursing in the background, and a guard growled, “Back away, Soldier, let the medics through to check.” He muttered under his breath to the scientist, “It’s probably not even bad enough to need to stop…”

Other guards with guns closed in, but the Soldier growled out, “No.”

The tension was electric.

“What?”

“I said no. I will take care of her. She should be shown how to care for herself should an emergency occur on a mission, yes?”

There was a heavy silence. Then…

“Very well. Take her to your quarters. Just get it over with quickly.”

I rubbed at that curved scar… My fake-parents had told me all my scars were from surgery, that I had been a very sickly baby… but that one, they said I had fallen from a playground set as a toddler. I suppose not everything could be explained away by surgery. There was only one video file left. This would hopefully hold the answer to how mine and Bucky’s story together ended… But undoubtedly, it would still leave me with many questions.

“Winter Soldier and Child, Entry Number Four, Final Entry. Winter Soldier and Child project has failed. The Asset recalled details of personal life, and disclosed his fathership to the Offspring. The science division has developed a dark parasite… Tests are very promising. The Offspring and the Asset with both be wiped and reset. The Offspring will be relocated to America for the new project. The Asset will be placed back into cryofreeze and shipped to the new leader of HYDRA in a separate region of America. The wipe of the Offspring will be observed for data purposes on both the Asset and the Offspring. While the Offspring has never been wiped before, she has seen the Asset wiped, and she will know what is coming. The results should be intriguing.”

The Soldier and the girl were both led into a room with a menacing looking chair. Evidently neither of them had known this was coming. The girl’s eyes widened, and she couldn’t disguise her concern, on behalf of what she apparently thought only the Soldier would be undergoing. The Soldier growled and struggled against his guards. It was evident how much of his programming had worn off. He was much more mouthy now.

“Not again! You can’t take me away again!”

“I’m afraid you don’t have any say in the matter,” said a technician. “But don’t worry, you’ll have enough time to prepare yourself… The girl is first.”

The Soldier seemed to have had all the air knocked from his lungs. The girl’s expression morphed from concern to fear.

“You won’t touch her!” the Soldier shouted. He managed to send two guards flying into the wall with a sickening CRACK, fighting to reach the girl.

“Dad!” she cried, struggling against the guards dragging her towards the chair. She elbowed one in the throat, and kicked the other in the groin, making a break for the Soldier. He reached for her, too, and managed to grasp her by the shoulders long enough to whisper something to her before the guards tore them apart once more, more than happy to use the blunt ends of their weapons.

The Soldier fell to his knees when the guards zapped him with what looked to be cattle prods. Not the two he had thrown, they looked pretty dead. Other guards forced the girl into the chair and restrained her, forcing the bite guard between her teeth.

“You can remember, sweetheart!” the Soldier shouted as the contraption lowered around her head, “I know you can! My name is James Buchanan Barnes! I’m your father!”

One of the guards around him slammed the butt of a gun into his jaw, then forced him to watch as the electricity turned on. The sound of the girl’s screams rang out across the room.

When the last file finished playing, I noticed a wetness on my cheeks. I don’t know when I started crying. I swiped at the tears.

“Are you okay?” Nat asked softly, rubbing my shoulder.

“Not really,” I said honestly. “That was… really intense.”

“Did… anything come back?” she asked tentatively.

“Sort of… but mostly no,” I said with a sigh. “But I have a feeling I can predict the greatest hits reel for tonight’s nightmare. At least I might recover some memories from that…”

The sympathetic look on her face didn’t irritate me, for once. Maybe because it wasn’t pity, but empathy.

“Well then you should try to rest now.” I went to protest, but she wouldn’t hear it. “If anything changes with Bucky, I promise, I will drag you out of bed myself to tell you.”

I sighed, but relented.

“Fine…” I headed for the door, but paused, glancing at Nat. “Is there something you wanted to ask? I mean, I know we’re gonna talk this whole thing with the videos out eventually, it just seems like there’s something you wanna know now.”

Natasha shrugged. “I know you said you don’t remember… But I was just wondering what Barnes whispered to you.”

I paused, thinking. I don’t know how I knew, but I did.

“He… he said… ‘No matter what happens… I love you’…”

Wrapping my arms around myself awkwardly, I inched towards the door again.

“I’ll see you later, Nat…”

She nodded. “Go rest up, kiddo… Heaven knows you need it.”

After everything I just saw? I definitely agreed.

---

A/N: Things are beginning to come to light... I think the next chapter will be fun to write. What did you think of this chapter? Let me know in the comments below!

Series Tags: @shamvictoria11 @mla02 @fanficcrapforme @goodbyefornow123 @thebookisbtr @what-inspirational-name

Everything Tags: @coconutknees @hollymac79 @jordan-ia @ace-marvel-chick

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itsanerdlife · 5 years

Text

Smoke 4/16

Pairing: Ronin!Clint Batron x Black Cat!Reader

Warning: Violence. Torture mentioned. Death mentioned. Nightmares. Lies. Seducing. Sexual humor. Broken and damaged pasts. Killing. Possessive Male. Struggling to open up. Secrets. Dark past.

A/N: ENDGAME SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN IT, DON’T READ THIS!!!

After the snap, the avengers split apart. Finding their own ways to cope. Clint found his under a new identity, Ronin. Getting revenge for those they lost. For the family taken from them. The evil left when heroes were wiped out, it became his mission to take out the evil. All while keeping a list of those who could help, if needed one day. Clint stumbles upon a woman, Cat. She’s a mystery in the dark. One happen stance meet, one night, gone like smoke.

After the second snap, setting the world right again. Fury is looking at those kept tabs on. When Cat appears on the screen, nobody know a lot about the mysterious woman who haunted Clint’s dreams and stole his favorite T-shirt. There’s a chance she’s in trouble, can Clint find her, convince her there is more, that he can save her? But is he the cause of what’s after her? Just what mystery is she keeping all to herself? Or is he the one she’s trying to save?

Clint

He tosses the discarded T-shirt at her. She catches it, pulling it over her frame. Shaking out her hair, letting it fall down her back. He yanks his own shirt down, running a hand through his own messed hair.

“Come with me.” He grabs a shoe off the floor, sitting down in one of the mismatched chairs. Cat looks over smirking at him, as she wiggles into her jeans. “To the compound.” He shakes his head, tying his shoe.

“Look,” she sighs.

“You agreed.” He cuts her off, finishing tying his other shoe. He stands, pulling her into him, by her hips. “Said you’d hear us out.” He reminds her, kissing her softly.

“Do you always jump to assumptions or am I just special?” She smirks at him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He chuckles, letting her go, she snatches up a boot, pulling it on.

“I’m not taking back my word. I just, need to finish a job, first.” She sighs, yanking on her last boot. “After that I’ll give you my full attention.” She runs a hand through her hair, before she gathers it up, twisting it into a messy bun and securing it with a hair tie, in just a few motions.

“Not another jewel heist, right?” He smirks at her.

“No and don’t judge me.” She moves around, the small apartment. “I saw that judgy look.” She points a finger at him, before she grabs a black hoodie.

“Do you need help?” He sighs, offering the least he could.

“I’m fine.” She grins at him when she is finished pulling on the hoodie. “I’ve been doing this a long time without you, you know.” She reminds him.

“Cat.” He sighs. She pauses watching him. “I need to ask you something.” He swallows.

“Don’t worry, babe. I wouldn’t, not you or your family.” She assures him as she finds the little eye mask she’d been looking for. “This is a company testing on, animals.” She waves him off.

“Be careful.” He nods.

“I’ll come to you when I can.” She promises.

“You have two days, Cat.” He warns her. “I’ll find you if you don’t.” He watches her. A smirk pulls up the corners of her mouth.

“So hot,” she purrs, coming over to kiss him quickly “but I have to go.” She backs away towards the door. “I’ve only got two days to finish this job.” She smirks, slipping on the eye mask.

“Two days, I’m serious.” His stomach twisted.

She pulls the hood up, before slipping on her leather jacket, she pulls the door open. Winking at him before she disappears with a click of the door shutting. He sighs, scrapping a hand down his face. She might as well have scratched her name into his chest, he was hooked on her and he wasn’t risking her slipping away once more.

------

Clint

“Barton? Earth to Barton.” Sam waves his hand in front of Clint’s face.

“What?” He blinks looking around.

“Where did you go?” Nat smirks at him.

“It’s day two.” He admits, picking up his coffee mug.

“Ahhh.” Peter nods slowly.

Something slick and black, darts across the kitchen. It moves with precision, before it meows suddenly.

“Um. there’s a cat in the compound.” Tony looks shocked. The black cat, twists itself between Clint’s ankles, nudging him, before it meows again.

“Kitty.” Morgan slips from the table, heading for the cat.

“Ah littles, let’s not.” Peter catches his sister, holding her up from the floor. But the cat has no interest in anyone else. It’s nudging Clint over and over, followed with a meow.

“Why is it meowing at you Barton?” Steve looks down confused.

“I have no idea.” Clint shrugs, watching the cat. It looks up, locking eyes with him, it meows loudly.

“Um. Clint?” Pepper hurries into the kitchen, everyone looks up. Pepper looks over, Cat steps into the kitchen.

“Cat?!” Peter and Clint startle at the same time.

“Whoa.” The others whisper together, looking at Cat. Her one eyes is massively swollen, a hand sized bruise around her neck, a black duffle over her shoulder.

“Was she,” Sam whispers at Buck “did she look like that in the footage?” They both look over at her.

“It was grainy and dull. Wow.” Buck replies, Sam nods slowly. Nat flicks Sam in the neck, and then Buck the same. They both wince, looking guilty.

“Got in over my head.” Cat shrugs, her one arm wrapped around her ribs, holding tightly. “Short, PG version, ticked off the wrong people. Was going to split, but as I was heading for the train station, I remembered I gave you my word.” She shifts, wincing slightly. “You might be right. I might need out of this life.” She admits. Peter sets Morgan down, Clint moves, taking her duffle, she shuffles, wincing. Tony is out of his seat, letting her take it.

“Is the cat yours?” Wanda looks over where Morgan is laying on the floor, the black cat is flat on his back, purring as she rubs his belly.

“He’s um. a friend.” She looks over at the two on the floor. “Sorry he’s trashy for belly rubs.” She sighs, wincing.

“He’s purring daddy.” Morgan giggles.

“He likes your small human.” Cat smirks.

“Can you, can you talk to cats?” Peter’s head tips.

“Just Odin.” She looks over at the cat, rubbing his face against Morgan’s cheeks.

“Wild.” Peter whispers in shock.

“We worked with a raccoon, but he’s shocked she can talk to a cat. I swear.” Nat rolls her eyes, shaking her head.

“Why just him?” Clint asks, looking at Cat.

“Not a PG conversation.” She looks up at him. “But he will sell his soul to her if she keeps that up.” She looks back at Morgan and Odin, who is getting another round of belly rubs.

“Morgan, baby.” Pepper claps her hands. “Why don’t we get some milk and find a snack for your new friend Odin.” Pepper grins. It was a subtle way for the team to leave, have a conversation Morgan didn’t need to be apart of.

“Momma, isn’t uncle Thor’s daddy, Odin?” Morgan asks looking up from the black cat sprawled across her little lap. The team slowly slipping out of the kitchen, he helps Cat, shuffle out of the room.

“He is. Maybe he came back as a cat.” Pepper nods, pulling open the fridge. “Better be nice, maybe you could write uncle Thor a letter, telling him about your new friend.” Pepper smiles.

“Momma I could just video call him.” Morgan giggles from the floor.

“That’s an idea too. Maybe you need to ask your dad to help you do that later.” Pepper laughs.

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

Everything Peaches 2/6/19: @xmtd5 @mo320 @all1e23 @courtmr @avxgers @eliza-kat @izzy--lee @irepeldirt @dumblani @nishanki1 @crist1216 @alyssaj23 @allyp1023 @joannie95 @kolakube9 @rileyloves5 @sarahp879 @sea040561 @sexyvixen7 @pcterpvrker @pigwidgexn @doctoranon @abschaffer2 @justrae9903 @bookluver01 @teller258316 @callie-bear15 @nickimarie94 @wandressfox @amandab-ftw @carostar2020 @henrietteoaks @nea90sweetie @circusofchaos @itsagalaxystar @bettercallsabs @miraclesoflove @lucifersnipnips @queenkrissy11 @sadyoungadult @destiel-artemis @paintballkid711 @isabelcrichards @iwillbeinmynest @sweet-honey15 @chanelmadrid13 @mellxander1993 @killerbumblebee @spookygrantaire @geeksareunique @supernatural508 @sammysgirl1997 @itzmegaaaaaaan @booksbeforebois @childishhoebinoo @elizabethaellison @mariekoukie6661 @pure-princess-97 @capsheadquaters @samanthasmileys @youclickedthislink @futuremrsb-r-main @lovemarvelousfics @notyourtypicalrose @petersunderoos96 @loving-life-my-way @buckystolemyheart @booktvmoviefangirl @supernatural-girl97 @abbypalmer14-blog @fanfictionjunkie1112 @meganlikesfandoms @awkwardfangirl2014 @supernaturaldean67 @xqueenofthecraziesx @queenoftheunderdark @writingaworldofmyown @supernaturallover2002 @daughterofthenight117 @mustbeaweasleyginger @sprinklesandsugarcubes @whothehellisbucky-1930 @verymuchclosetedfangirl @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @ocaptain-mycaptainmorgan @wonderlandfandomkingdom @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @stupendoussciencenaturepanda @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @supernatural-strangerthings-1980

Marvel Tag List 2/6/19: @lumelgy @dottirose @jcc04220 @rockagurl @a--1--1--3 @mizzzpink @jade-taillia @coley0823 @widowsfics @bookluver01 @thelostallycat @shield-agent78 @dtftheavengers @ilovetvshowsblog @capsheadquaters @iamwarrenspeace @thefridgeismybestie @whenallsaidanddone @deanwinchestersrifle @fandomsstolemylife00 @daughterofthenight117 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect

Clint ‘Destory Me, I’ll Thank You’ Barton: @ml7010 @coley0823 @yavanna80 @lakamaa12 @boltsgirl919 @feelmyroarrrr @mrsseizetheday @honey-bee-holly @marvelfansworld @mybarnesmyhero @the-real-mary-jane @dumbbitchenergytm @agentsinstorybrooke @x-whyareyoureadingthis-x @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

Smoke: @2s0uls @rimaries @xxloki81xx @csigeoblue @demonlover87 @capandbuckylvr @marvelfansworld @natromanoffsboys @barton-you-dummy @thefandomimagines @thosesexytexasboys

#Marvel #Clint Barton x Reader #Avengers #Clint x Reader #Smoke #Marvel Fanfiction #Clint Barton Series #Avengers Fanfiction #Ronin Series

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