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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

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Anything

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: When the Avengers latest mission is to visit local schools, Loki’s insecurities start to get the better of him. But with you to there comfort him, he realizes that with you by his side, he can do anything. Warnings: a little angsty, but mainly fluff A/N: Enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @mlqcikemenmc

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki frowned, looking out the window, down at the Avengers getting into Stark’s limo. They were doing some kind of awareness week at schools in the city, something or other about being a good citizen and staying safe. The God of Mischief had been invited to come, but he didn’t think it a particularly good idea. He’d never done anything with children before, and he wasn’t sure this was the best time to try.

“Loki?” you asked out of the blue. He whipped around at the sound of your voice. “What are you still doing here?”

“Oh, hello, darling. I just did not feel like going,” he said with a shrug. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but he still felt bad. “And what about you?”

“They insisted someone stay in case of an emergency call,” you explained. You weren’t totally sold on his excuse, but were terrified of pushing him, especially because things were going so well between you recently. “So that means we’re alone, right?”

“Yes, darling. Indeed, it does,” he replied, a smile curling on his lips.

Faster than lightning, Loki was pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. You’d been dating for a little over a month, but were keeping it a secret from the rest of the Avengers. You both had your own reasons for that. Loki was afraid they wouldn’t approve and try to come between you. You, however were worried that Loki would put too much pressure on himself to be perfect if they knew, ending in him pulling away from you, convinced he wasn’t good enough. But either way, you agreed it was too soon to let them know. Soon, Loki had you pinned on the couch with his body, the raw desire in his kiss only growing. All too soon, you had to break for air, but you were quick to recapture his lips after catching your breath.

After a while, you were content to just lay with each other, cuddling while a movie played in the background. You were talking, and it reminded you of his flaky excuse from earlier. You were still worried about pressing, but god damn it, he was your boyfriend and you should be allowed to check on him.

“So...” you began.

“So?”

“So what’s the real reason why you didn’t go with the rest of the team?”

“Ah,” he said. “That.”

“Mhm. You don’t have to tell me,” you replied, caressing his cheek, “but you can always talk to me. I’m here for you, Loki. I promise.”

“I know, darling. Thank you,” he said against your skin as he nuzzled into your neck. He didn’t want to trouble you with what was on his mind, but your eyes were so innocent and full of adoration that he couldn’t resist. “I am afraid. Afraid that I would not be good with kids, that I would frighten them. Afraid that their parents would learn of my visit and cause an uproar. Afraid that I will never escape my past.”

“Oh, Loki,” you cooed, filled with compassion. You wanted to take his face in your hands, but he was still hiding in the crook of your neck. You settled for intertwining your fingers with his. “You are so, so much more than your past. New York wasn’t even your fault, for crying out loud. You are amazing, kind, insightful, compassionate, intelligent, beautiful. The list goes on and on, I assure you. The only way to deal with your fears is to face them head on, don’t you think? They may not even come true.”

You could feel his tears staining your skin, though he was obviously trying to hold them back. You were overcome with a powerful need to comfort him, to protect him from the world. It was so unfair that after all he’d been through, everyone who had hurt him, he blamed himself for all this. That he worried he wasn’t worthy of love when he was, in fact, the most deserving person you’d ever met.

“My darling,” he whispered, his voice breaking ever so slightly. Your chest swelled with pride as you realized you were one of the few—possibly the only—people he let himself be vulnerable with. “I cannot thank you enough for your words, truly.”

“You’re welcome, Loki,” you replied, taking a page out of his book and kissing the back of his hand. “You mean the world to me, my love.”

“And you the same to me,” he finally lifted his head up, and you turned to look at him. “I feel I can do anything with you at my side.”

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

“Yes. I will go with the rest of the team tomorrow if, and only if, you come with me.”

“Deal,” you agreed, kissing along his jawline and starting another make-out session.

Luckily, you heard the Avengers before you were in view of each other, giving you and Loki a chance to untangle yourselves and move to opposite ends of the couch. You shared a smile before turning your attentions to the TV as if that’s what you’d been doing the whole time.

“Well, I hope you two had a nice time while we were out doing hard work,” Tony joked.

“Tell you what,” you replied. “You get someone else to hold down the fort, and we’ll go tomorrow.”

“I’ll stay,” Bruce volunteered, a little too excitedly. He never was one for social settings. “Have fun.”

After catching up for a few minutes, you were all setting about your various tasks for the rest of the day. Before meeting Sam in the training room, you gave Loki’s hand a quick squeeze and pecked him on the cheek. Once you were gone, a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. But he’d meant what he said, and he was willing to do anything so long as you were there.

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

“What do you mean we can’t visit the same classroom?” you incredulously asked.

“It’s too slow,” Steve explained. “We cover more ground, so to speak, if we split up.”

“But can’t Loki and I be a pair? Please,” you pouted.

“Sorry guys,” he said. “We have to stick to the plan if we’re going to get to all the classes.”

You frowned as he walked away. You understood where he was coming from, but felt like he should have been able to make an exception. But it seemed like there was no getting him to budge, so you dropped the matter.

“Hey, at least our classes will be right next to each other,” you tried to comfort Loki as you all walked towards your assignments. “I’m sorry I can’t stay with you though. I know I promised.”

“Oh, my sweet darling,” Loki replied, pulling you aside to give you a quick kiss. “It is not your fault. It is some Midgardian rite of passage, is it not, to be scared on your first day of school?”

You smiled at the way he was cheering you up, despite obviously being very worried about the whole situation himself. Honestly, you really couldn’t fathom why anyone was afraid of this gentle, beautiful man before you. Why he was afraid of himself.

“I love you, Loki,” you said, giving him a big hug. He melted into your touch. “You’re going to be wonderful. You feel ok with this, right? We’ll figure something out if you don’t.”

“I shall muddle through, somehow,” he assured you. “It is like you said, I must face my fears.”

You gave him one last encouraging hug and smile before disappearing into the classroom you’d be talking in. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door of his assigned room. The teacher, a middle-aged man with hair starting to gray, welcomed him. It was a little unnerving to Loki that he seemed to have no qualms with the God of Mischief entering the threshold. The class, too, was watching him with nothing less than rapt attention and bright eyes. Perhaps you were right, after all, and not as many people as he thought were still holding onto the image he’d had when he first came to Midgard.

“Hello, children,” he began after a nervous gulp. “It is lovely to be here with you today.”

“Hello, Mr. Loki,” they chorused back.

As he began the talk on safety, he relaxed a bit. It was a room full of third graders, for Norns’ sake. He had faced off against fire serpents and sea monsters. Surely he could handle a group of kids. And as he soon found out, he was right indeed. More than handle, in fact; he was great with them! As he waltzed out of the room and into the next, he wondered if he might have a family of his own one day. He didn’t know how you felt about adopting, but he was starting to like the idea. It didn’t go too well for him in his childhood, but he could ensure that some other innocent kid won’t go through what he did. Besides, the circumstances were entirely different. Though, he supposed he was getting ahead of himself, imagining having a family with you. Still, it sent a thrill right to his heart.

After a very successful morning, he met back up with you. Being the first two done with the presentations, Loki took the opportunity to whisk you away to a secluded hallway to kiss you again.

“So it went well, I take it,” you laughed as you broke away.

“Just as you said it would, darling. I even had fun.”

“Well then, congratulations, my love. I think that deserves another kiss,” you said, wrapping your arms behind his neck.

“I think that you are right,” he agreed, tickling you a little.

As your lips met again, you heard a loud, overdramatic gasp that could only belong to Tony. You both sprung back from each other, realizing the hallway wasn’t as private as you’d originally believed. Besides Tony, the other Avengers were all standing there, taking in the scene too. Shooting each other a nervous glance, you and Loki braced yourselves for whatever came next.

“You two,” Tony said, feigning utter shock and hurt, “are dating? Woe is me! How could you keep this a secret from us, your dearest teammates?”

“Spare me, Stark,” Loki said, rolling his eyes and taking your hand. If you’d been found out, might as well be confident about it. “Yes, we are together. And I, for one, couldn’t be happier.”

“Neither could I,” you agreed, going to kiss him again.

“Now, now,” Tony interjected. He stood between you and put an arm over each of your shoulders, leading the way outside. “No kissing in the halls. But you know what? I think this is the start of an awesome era for the Avengers. Just think of all the jokes!”

You giggled as Loki rolled his eyes again, though he was fighting a losing battle with a grin. As you got into the limo, fingers locked once again, Loki began to accept something. It was right what you’d said about that not being the real him at the Battle of New York. No, he was himself now. Someone different, perhaps better and stronger than ever before. And it was you in a large part who had helped him see that. He knew in that moment that he’d been entirely right; with you by his side, he could do anything.

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ofbardsandmonsters · 3 years

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I’m supposed to be working on my STB bingo card and Ironhusbands bingo card and my Stony Loves Steve piece

Instead, I accidently an entire oneshot because it wanted out of my brain

So I give you a Stuckony mafia-esque au. You can also read it here on ao3

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Bucky was steadily losing hope that he and Steve would make it out of this alive. The men that had taken them were obviously experienced, and had planned for the capture of two ‘wolves. The ropes binding them felt like they were laced with wolfsbane and dipped in silver. The mixture made them weaker and confined them to their human forms, unable to fight back. He could see Steve drooping beside him, the blonde’s breathing growing more ragged by the minute.

He dropped his voice to a whisper low enough that only his packmate would be able to hear. “Come on, Steve. You gotta hold on. The pack will be here soon. We’re gonna get out of this.”

“B…Buck…”

Just as he was opening his mouth to respond, Bucky heard a commotion at the other end of the warehouse where they were being kept. Thick, unnaturally black smoke was pouring in from under the door and the hunters were pointing their guns at it, clearly shaken.

Within seconds the smoke filled the entire front half of the large room. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, waiting. A few more moments passed, and then the cloud of smoke seemed to part. A short, dark-haired man in an elegant suit stepped through, flanked by four hulking bodyguards. Bucky’s eyes widened in shock. He knew this man. Everyone in the city knew this man.

The man stopped in the middle of the room, one eyebrow raised at the guns pointed in his face. When he spoke, his voice was smooth, but colder than the arctic.

“Gentlemen. I believe you have two puppies that belong to me. It would be in your best interest to return them to me. Immediately.”

Bucky felt Steve perk up beside him, groaning a little as he struggled to open his eyes.

“Took… took you long enough. I was… just taking a nap.”

“Terribly sorry, sweetheart. These men are good, I’ll give them that. They hid you well. But they’re not better than me.”

Bucky’s eyes went back and forth between Steve and their unlikely savior. What in the hell was going on here?

“Steve, buddy, pal… why is the head of the most powerful coven on the east coast calling you ‘sweetheart’?”

Even in his weakened state, Steve managed a tiny blush as he cleared his throat. “You remember how you’ve been hasslin’ me about all the time I’m spendin’ distracted by my phone?”

He didn’t think it was possible, but somehow Bucky’s eyes got even wider. He glanced at the newcomer again, then went back to staring at Steve. “This is who you’ve been sneakin’ off to see?” He barked out a laugh, tilting his head back to stare at the beams that made up the ceiling of the warehouse. “Oh ho, Sam’s gonna love this.”

Across the room, the leader of the hunters that had snatched them was instructing his men to lower their guns as he cautiously approached the intimidating witch. “M-Mr. Stark, I had no idea these ‘wolves were under your protection. Please believe that I would never have—”

“Spare me. You may have been smart enough to hide from me until now, but you were also stupid enough to go hunting in my territory. Every man, woman, and child—human or otherwise—in the entire city and beyond are under my protection. I don’t take kindly to those that break my rules.” He turned to the four men that had accompanied him through the smoke. “Happy, show these men the error of their ways.”

The largest of the four men stepped forward and curled his big hand into a fist. The sound of men screaming was merely background noise, because all of Bucky’s focus was on Stark as he came toward them. A snap of his fingers and their bindings were gone. He went to Steve first, pressing two gentle fingers to the blonde’s forehead. Bucky blinked, and suddenly his best friend was good as new. As he stared, Steve slumped forward to wrap his arms around Stark’s waist and buried his face in the other man’s stomach.

Stark threaded the fingers of one hand through Steve’s hair in return, wrapping the other arm around his shoulders. He suddenly looked much softer, more like the terrified partner he clearly was and less like the cold and ruthless coven leader. “By the gods, Steve, I was so fucking worried when you stopped answering my messages. Pepper tried to tell me everything was fine, but I knew. I just knew something was wrong.”

Bucky’s enhanced senses, no longer dampened by the silver and wolfsbane, picked up the minute trembling in Stark’s hand where it rested on Steve’s head. The other brunette turned his head, eyes like the finest expensive whiskey capturing Bucky’s own. “You must be James. Steve talks about you constantly. I’ve honestly been a little jealous until now.”

“It’s Bucky, actually.”

Stark’s nose wrinkled like he smelled something rotten, and he used the hand in Steve’s hair to pull the blonde back enough for their eyes to meet. “I refuse to call him that. There’s nothing dignified about the name ‘Bucky.’”

Bucky made a sound of outrage and scrambled to his feet, hands clenching into fists at his sides. “I’m so sorry that my name doesn’t meet your standards, your highness.”

“Buck—”

The lazy smirk on Stark’s face just made him more furious, and Bucky took a step forward. “And where do you get off thinkin’ you can call me anything—”

Steve struggled to his feet, sliding smoothly into Bucky’s path, both hands held up in front of him in a placating gesture. “Come on, Buck. Just take a breath, okay?”

Stark patted Steve on the arm and stepped around him, lifting his chin to meet Bucky’s eyes with that same lazy smirk. Despite the anger swirling in his gut, Bucky’s stupid wolf brain whispered that the witch had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen.

“My apologies, James, I meant no offense. In case you hadn’t heard, I am quite old and as such, am used to more… refinement. Ask Steve how long it took him to convince me to stop calling him Steven.”

Bucky looked at his best friend over Stark’s shoulder, and Steve only shrugged with a fond smile on his face. Then something Stark had said bounced back and Bucky turned back to the older man. “What did you mean, ‘jealous until now?’”

Stark’s smirk shifted into something more sly, almost seductive, and it transformed his face. Bucky’s wolf brain sat up at attention, and if he had been in full wolf form, he was sure his tail would be wagging.

“As I said, Steve talks about you often. And I was jealous, see, that I would have to share his affections. I don’t usually like to share. But I cherish Steve, a great deal more than I’ve ever cared for someone before. And I would do anything to make him happy. Even sharing. That is, until I saw you for myself. And now I understand perfectly.”

Bucky’s wolf brain was practically salivating as it followed where Stark was heading faster than his human brain did. It’s reaction was so strong, that even in full human form, Bucky could practically taste the scent of mate on his tongue.

“What, exactly, do you understand?”

Stark took a step forward, and then another and another until he was practically chest to chest with Bucky.

“I understand that sharing Steve’s affections will be the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Because, if you’re amenable, I’d be more than willing to share mine as well.”

Bucky’s wolf brain howled in response, and it took a large chunk of his self control not to let the sound come barreling out of his own mouth. He glanced at Steve, who had a desperately hopeful look on his face, then back at those intoxicating brown eyes.

“I’m… yeah. Definitely amenable. To all of that.”

That seductive smirk blossomed into a bright and happy grin, making Stark look soft and boyish as it lit up his entire face. It was a heady thing, to bring about that kind of joy in someone so powerful. Bucky made a silent promise to do whatever it took to bring that smile out all the time.

Stark held out his hand, and Bucky accepted it without hesitation. The witch towed him backward until the three of them were sharing the same space. He shivered at the way their scents mingled together.

“I’m still calling you James.”

Steve snorted. “Tony.”

“Keep saying it like that, doll, and you can call me whatever you like.” Bucky let a little growl slip into his voice, and celebrated a silent victory at the way it made Stark—Tony—shiver.

“I’m sorry, Steve, but you’re no longer my favorite.”

Steve spluttered, and Bucky tugged a laughing Tony against his chest. “Sorry, Stevie. Not my fault our little mate likes a bit of a growl and you’ve never given it to him.”

“Little—!”

Bucky ducked his head to claim a kiss from their new mate, cutting off his protests. The sounds Tony made in response set his blood on fire. They needed to get out of this hellhole. Now.

“Can you do that little smoke trick again, take us home?”

Tony grinned and lifted his hands.

“With pleasure.”

#stony #stuckony #winteriron #stony fic #winteriron fic #stuckony fic

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anthonyed · 4 years

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day 6 for @stonyweek : bots as matchmakers (Ao3)

One of the cleaning bots likes Steve, it’s no big deal.

“It’s a crush, sir,” JARVIS insists and Tony’s ready to mock but there’s a sharp conscience which bites, saying he might offend the entire robotic field with his quip so he shuts up.

“How bad is it?” he asks instead.

There’s a pause and a vague, “Not too bad. She’s very caring for the Captain’s wellbeing,” is all JARVIS says.

One morning, Tony stumbles into the kitchen after an all nighter to the peculiar sight of a cleaning bot propped on the kitchen counter, near the coffee machine.

When he reaches to pick up the bot, Steve stops him with a hand to his elbow, and he secretly shares that, “She’s making me a coffee, give her a minute.”

Tony gawks when the bot does exactly that; sliding out an inlet to fetch the filled cup, and it buzzes its way across the counter to where Steve stands, flipping pancakes. Steve thanks her with an affectionate pet and she whirs in excitement.

Later in the workshop, he stares at various footage of the bot interacting with Steve and comments numbly, “You said it wasn’t bad.”

JARVIS says nothing, but Tony imagines the smug expression to his codes, anyway.

He freezes a particular footage and expands it, “You said it wasn’t bad,” he repeats with added weight. The image of the bot resting atop of Steve’s chest while he sleeps stares back.

“Indeed, Sir,” JARVIS replies, “It’s not bad at all. The Captain seems to suffer fewer night terrors in Miss Clean’s presence.”

“Miss Clean.”

“Yes, Sir. The Captain thought it would be proper to name her.”

“Do you even know what you’re doing now? Tony bristles. “You’re encouraging his relationship with a bot. Stop encouraging his relationship with a bot.”

JARVIS’s answer is a flat, “I don’t know how that is wrong, Sir. According to my readings, Miss Clean and the Captain’s relationship is no difference from ours.” Then, in a more clipped tone, he adds, “I suspect you’re just jealous. Sir.”

Tony mutes him.

It’s eerie. Wherever Steve goes, Miss Clean goes; like a duckling imprinted on its mother. Where Steve sits, she’s there; whether next to him or by his feet. Tony has to mind her when he claims his usual seat next to Steve during movie nights. Sometimes, she’s in the middle, her round curve buzzing and poking at Tony’s hip; keeping him away from sliding closer to Steve.

No. He’s not jealous.

She sleeps in Steve’s room, on his bed and she’s probably seen Steve naked more than JARVIS at this rate. No, Tony is definitely not jealous of a cleaning bot.

“I want one,” Clint says longingly one afternoon. Watching Miss Clean putter around the kitchen trying to help while Steve makes sandwiches for lunch.

“I’m just saying,” Tony hiccups, “I can dismantle her right now.” The wrench in his hand is a warning.

DUM-E steals it from him, whirring away with loud beeps. Tony’s too drunk for a roundabout chase so he slides to the floor, elbows on knees and head in hands.

Another hiccup.

“If I may, Sir,” JARVIS speaks softly, courtesy of his excellent coding. “You should have accepted the Captain’s proposal.”

Tony snorts, breaking into a maniacal laughter and he falls on his back; cool linoleum like a shock to his system, an instant sobering agent. JARVIS makes it sound like a marriage proposal when it was just Steve asking him out for a date. And Tony said, no.

“You know why, J,” he sighs, staring at the stark white ceiling above him.

JARVIS doesn’t pause, “Because you believe he deserves better, Sir.”

“I do.”

A weighted pause. “But he’s substituted you with Miss Clean instead.”

Tony blinks. JARVIS is not wrong. But, “I can dismantle her right now.”

Inherently, Tony thinks while lying on his king sized bed recovering from an appropriately king sized hangover, it’s JARVIS who controls all the bots in the tower.

Two days later, Steve’s in the workshop discussing upgrades with Tony while Miss Clean and DUM-E whiz around playing chase. Or so Tony thinks until Miss Clean weaves dangerously in between Steve’s feet, tripping him into Tony.

Tony catches him - of course he does - and then he realises that he’s got an armful of Steve without their usual armours in between them; bare skin touching at some places and Steve’s warm and heavy. Tony can both hear and feel him breathing and it’s so surreal that he aches when Steve pulls away.

“Sorry,” he blushes prettily.

Tony scratches his head and waves it off, “No problem.”

“You planned it didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sir.”

It keeps happening.

Tony sits next to Steve during their movie night. Miss Clean whirs away from her spot in between them and falls off of the couch, settling snuggly between their feet instead.

Steve has a nightmare one night. Tony wakes up to a frantic Miss Clean climbing up his legs, JARVIS explaining that she’d come to fetch him to help Steve.

Tony upgrades her; adds tiny arms so she could hold things. Steve comes running, thought he’d lost Miss Clean and when he sees her on Tony’s lap, chirruping happily after a successful test run, he kisses Tony’s cheek and thanks him.

“JARVIS,” Tony says one day, “I know what you’re doing.”

“Are you going to say yes, Sir?”

Tony thinks about it. He still believes that Steve deserves better, but then there’s Steve, happy to be with just Tony. Smiles and laughs like Tony’s the best thing that has ever happened to him. Looks at him like he’s both stars and the moon and Tony loves him. Of course, he does.

It’s why he thinks Steve deserves better after all.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “Maybe.”

“JARVIS said you called,” Steve walks in, Miss Clean in tow, speed crashing into DUM-E who beeps fondly at her.

Steve’s gaze follows them, Tony’s too, and both of them noticed it at the same time, which is as horrifying as it is shocking.

There’s a bouquet in DUM-E claw; of red roses, blue hydrangeas, and white baby breaths which Steve accepts mechanically when handed over. He looks at Tony, stunned.

Tony doesn’t know what it is, didn’t remember planning this, but he has an inkling who did and he puts his trust in them. “Go on,” he croaks nervously, “Read it.”

Steve does, out aloud, “Dear Steve, if you don’t mind, please ask me out on a date again. I’d like to say, yes.”

“Is that right?” His blue eyes a wide, disbelief and pure delight brimming in abundance.

Tony puts down the welding torch before he walks over and pulls Steve into a deep kiss. Both Miss Clean and DUM-E chirrupping excitedly in the background and Tony presses a smatter of yesses all over Steve’s laughing face.

“Are you happy now?” Tony asks, rolling over onto his back, smiling at the distant sound of the shower running; a reminder of who’s in there.

JARVIS response is a curious question, “Are you, Sir?”

“I am,” Tony answers easily, “Very much so.”

“Glad to hear, Sir.” Obviously he is, that meddling little creation of his.

Tony shakes his head, fond and he doesn’t forget to say, “Thank you, JARVIS.”

#stony #stevetony #Stony Week 2020 #mine

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lilbabycee · 4 years

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may we be blessed with a smutty birthday drabble w Steve where he has everyone pretend they forgot readers birthday when in reality there’s something big planned 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 never had a big bday so I will be living through this lolz

change of plans // steve rogers

↳ pairing: steve rogers x reader

i’m actually sorry this took so long and sorry that it’s so long too lol:

you don’t know if you’re ready to face today.

it’s your birthday and you’ve never done anything big or extravagant - you think that maybe you’d like to keep it that way, though you’ve never had a big celebration before so you don’t even know how that’d feel. maybe there’s something comforting about the predictability of how today is going to go, but you can’t help the part deep inside of you that longs for something new.

waking up to an empty bed, you brace yourself for some kind of over-the-top present from tony but as you head out of your bedroom, you find the rest of you and steve’s apartment entirely unchanged. you tentatively walk through empty hallways into the kitchen and everyone is standing around aimlessly, chatting to each other about insignificant things and attempting to make themselves breakfast.

“hi guys,” you smile at all of them and they return the sentiment. “what are you making?”

steve breezes by you to press a brief kiss to your forehead before shoving a piece of burnt toast into his mouth. his voice is muffled when he says, “mornin’ doll.”

“looks like it’ll be cereal cause none of these idiots know how to cook,” natasha sidles up to you, narrowing her eyes and shaking her head playfully at the group of men crowding the kitchen. “sam’s still working out and we don’t wanna have to wait until he’s done. we probably should’ve though: he’s the only one who knows how to make anything decent in here.” she nudges your shoulder, “any plans today?”

you’re momentarily thrown, blinking in confusion because natasha always remembers your birthday.

“uhh,” you shake your head and plaster a smile on your face, “no, nope. not up to much really. how about you?”

bruce strolls by and waves at you while natasha plucks a grape from his bowl, popping it into her mouth. he gives her a look but she just smirks as she chews slowly, ignoring him and turning back to you.

“actually, fury called not too long ago. he’s got some important mission lined up for us somewhere in alaska... surveillance or something.”

“oh,” you frown, brow furrowing because you thought that you would’ve heard about it. “should i go suit up or...?”

“actually,” natasha swallows her grape and stands up straight, “it’s only some of us going. sam and bucky are staying here with you: the rest of us are heading out in about an hour.”

your heart sinks at the thought of not being able to spend your birthday with the whole team, though it seems as if they’ve forgetten anyway so maybe it’s not that big of a deal. but the thought is fleeting because you realize that you’re going to be able to spend some quality time with two of your favorite people who will definitely have remembered your birthday.

when the quinjet takes off an hour and a half later, sam, bucky, and yourself are all left standing on the launchpad, bucky’s hair blowing dramatically in the gust of wind that it leaves behind.

“so,” bucky rocks back on his heels and stares at you with a mischievous smile on his face. “what do you wanna do?”

“neither of you have any plans?” you look at them skeptically but they both shake their heads. you look down, disappointed because they always do something fun for you on your birthday. sam always bakes a cake and bucky always lets you win when you’re sparring but since neither have happened today, you’re assuming that they’ve forgotten... just like everybody else.

sam shrugs noncommitally.

“nope,” he adds, giving you a charming gap-toothed grin. “i mean, i’ve got some paperwork to do and i’m sure bucky’s got some knives to sharpen or something-”

bucky pins him with a glare but then looks back to you. “-but otherwise, we’re totally free...so, doll?”

“we could watch a movie?”

“yes!” sam exclaims excitedly, already sprinting inside. you and bucky are still staring at the door he burst through when you hear him call out: “i’ve got dibs on the first pick!”

that makes bucky’s eyes go wide and he quickly starts to chase after him.

“fuck no- sam!”

you’re sandwiched between your two heavily muscled best friends, cuddled up on the sofa with your body spread across the laps of both sam and bucky. a thick blanket is draped over all three of you while die hard plays in the background, but none of you are paying attention because you’re all making each other cry with laughter which drowns out the sound of the movie.

“we should go out tonight,” bucky casually suggests during a lull in the conversation, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the table.

“true,” sam agrees, nodding his head. you look at him in shock because his default state is to always disagree with bucky. “the others aren’t supposed to be back for a couple of days so i don’t wanna stay all cooped up in here. you down, sugar?”

“yeah, i’ll go,” you nod, playing with your fingers because you’re still so shocked that they’re just casually making plans like today isn’t your birthday. of course you’re not going to point it out to them - you don’t want to make a big deal out of it, but you think that it’d be nice to be wished a happy birthday at least once today.

hours later, you’re wearing your favorite outfit - “we’re going to dinner, darlin’,” bucky let you know earlier - and just touching up your face when bucky and sam pause their incessant bickering to call you downstairs. at this point, you’ve come to terms with the fact that not a single person in your life has remembered your birthday. you’d shed a couple of tears in the bathroom not because you are dying for a huge birthday celebration, but rather because it goes to show that you don’t hold a lot of relevance in these people’s lives.

nobody on the team has ever forgotten a teammate’s birthday, so it cut deep this morning when they all went about their day as normal and barely even acknowledged your presence. you tried to brush it off but the moment you were alone, it all hit you like an oncoming freight train.

ready to forget this disappointing day and move on, you come down the stairs as quickly as you can and head to the front door only to see sam and bucky dressed impeccably and... still arguing. they stop when you stand in front of them. sam whistles loudly which makes you roll your eyes playfully while bucky just nods his head.

“you look great, doll,” he smiles at you and not being able to take any more compliments, you clear your throat loudly and step in between them.

“let’s go,” you say and grab a coat, stepping into the garage. once you all pile into one of tony’s many cars, you take off into the night.

you’re too distracted by your racing thoughts to notice the moment that you pull up outside of an extravagant hotel. you frown as you get out of the car because you thought you were going for dinner at the restaurant on the other side of town.

“change of plans, lil bit. tony recommended this place to us a few weeks ago and we just never got around to going.” sam smiles at you, offering you an arm as bucky flanks your other side. when you step foot inside of the luxurious building after handing the car keys to the valet outside, a well-dressed usher leads you down a hallway to an entirely separate part of the ground floor. you don’t think much of it because you’re used to private dining when tony’s involved, but you manage to lose both of your friends by the time you’ve made it through the labyrinth of hallways.

“excuse me, have you seen the two men i was with just a second ago?” you ask the usher kindly. he looks back at you and just smiles.

“this way, please,” he gestures for you to open the doors however, something doesn’t feel quite right. you’re on high alert but you tentatively push open the heavy gold doors anyway, hand ready to grab the knife that’s resting snugly in your thigh holster.

what you’re not expecting is a lounge filled with balloons and a chorus of “surprise!”, so loud that your bones threaten to jump out of your skin.

the room has been decorated in all of your favorite colors, lights strung up everywhere and banners in bold letters that say happy birthday, y/n!, as well as all of your favorite people with beaming smiles on their faces. sam and bucky are standing with rhodey in the corner and as you stare at them disbelievingly, bucky just throws you a wink.

“wh-what,” you stutter, teary eyes round with confusion, “what the fuck?”

“happy birthday, angel,” a very familiar voice comes from behind you and you spin around to throw your arms around your boyfriend’s neck in glee.

“all this?” your voice is muffled in his shoulder. “for me?”

“all for you, baby,” steve murmurs, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “you didn’t think we’d actually forget, did you?”

“i- i mean,” you exhale, shaking your head, “maybe? i just didn’t know how important it was to you guys-”

“y/n,” he takes your face between his hands and stares at you solmenly, “you are the most important thing in my life-”

bucky clears his throat in protest but steve ignores him.

“-and i would be a fool not to celebrate you everyday. it really got me thinking when you told me that you’ve never had something big done for your birthday. you deserve something extravagant and over-the-top because you deserve to be appreciated every second of your life because you’re so loved by everyone here. are we clear?”

you can’t help but kiss the stupid lopsided smile off his face because you love this man more than you’ll ever be able to articulate. to give the two of you some privacy, everyone else has started drinking and dancing, speaking to their friends animatedly as they avert their eyes from you and steve’s private moment.

when steve slips his tongue in your mouth and his hands wander down to grab your ass, you moan into the kiss only to pull away seconds later, blinking up at him as you both try to catch your breaths.

“steve, we’re in a room full of people,” you remind him.

“then let’s get out of here,” he presses you into his front and you can feel the hardness of his cock against your stomach.

“but i haven’t said hi to anyone else yet,” you whine, not wanting to be rude.

“we’ll come back, baby,” he brushes his nose against the curve of your jaw. “just a couple minutes. you look so fuckin’ good right now i don’t know if i’ll be able to last any longer without getting my cock in that tight little-”

“steve!” you gasp, swatting his arm and then looking around to see if anybody’s heard him, but he just chuckles low in your ear, soft lips dropping kisses on your even softer skin.

“c’mon, doll,” his teeth catch on your earlobe and your bite your lower lip, contemplating whether or not you should give in to your horny boyfriend. “they won’t even notice we’re gone-”

“uh, we definitely will,” tony strolls over and butts in with a smirk on his lips and a drink in his hand. “happy birthday, babe.”

“thanks, tones,” you give him a one-armed hug because steve still won’t let go of you.

“your real present from me is over there,” he gestures vaguely to a huge pile of presents that makes your eyes go wide again, “but out of the kindness of my heart, i can also give you the gift of my wonderful storytelling so that people won’t notice that you guys have gone off to f-”

“thank you, tony!” you kiss his cheek quickly and proceed to drag steve towards a hallway that you assume leads to the bathrooms. you wave to your other friends briefly as you walk out, finding that the hallway you’ve gone down doesn’t lead to the bathroom, but rather a set of elevators. you and your boyfriend both pause, taking a minute to look at each other and you can almost see the lightbulb that pops over the both of your heads.

steve presses the up button and then his lips are on you, hands roaming your body eagerly against the closed doors of the elevator. slowly, his fingers travel underneath your clothes and start to massage your bare skin. you do the same, one hand gripping his hair and the other undoing the button to his slacks, shoving your hand into the band of his underwear desperately to palm at his manhood.

he hisses, stopping his assault on your body to throw his head back at the feeling of your deft fingers stroking him like that. you’re about to pull his lips towards yours again when you hear a chime and promptly stumble backwards, taking your supersoldier with you.

you cry out a laugh as you fall into each against the wall, drunk on desire and your adoration for the flustered man in front of you. chuckling, steve stabs the first button on the panel and is immediately kissing you again, tongue delving deep into your mouth as his large hand tightly grasps your jaw.

as the doors close and you start to move upwards, steve wedges one of this thick thighs in between your legs, pressing the muscle of his leg into your core.

“ride it, darlin’, c’mon,” he breathes into your ear, leaving wet kisses down your throat and framing your hips between his hands. you do as you’re told, pushing your hips down onto his thigh to get some friction to relieve the heat that’s building in your stomach.

“so good for me, that’s it sweetheart.”

it’s a quick ride to the top but with steve rutting against your hip with your hand down his pants and you against his leg with his fingers in your underwear dancing over your center, the two of you gradually push yourselves to a climax, almost there until there’s that same chime again. your boyfriend swiftly picks you up and you squeal, wrapping your legs around his waist and arms around his neck. his hands massage the globes of your ass as you walk across the roof, onto the edge of the balcony that overlooks the upper east side.

he rests you against the ledge and you keep one of your legs around him as he gets both of your clothes out of the way so that he can run the tip of his hard cock along your needy hole.

“shit, baby,” he spits right onto it, slapping his cock against your swollen skin, and you groan loudly, involuntarily clenching around nothing. “m’not gonna last.”

“neither am i,” you reassure him. “please steve, i need it.”

“i’ve got you, doll.”

he doesn’t say anything else because his eyes are glued at the mesmerizing way that his bulbous tip gets swallowed by your tight entrance. he rocks his hips back and forth, burying himself deeper and deeper into you until he bottoms out with a loud moan.

there are tears in your eyes from how good it feels; the open air on your nipples and the fact that someone could see you like this, vulnerable and open with a cock buried deep inside you, makes you shudder, trails of water spilling onto your cheeks.

“oh my god, sweetheart,” steve murmurs reverently. usually he takes a minute to let you adjust to his size, but the two of you are so close that he just goes for it, the sound of your lovemaking echoing into the night sky.

“yes, yes- fuck, steve, please,” you blink up at him and he uses his thumbs to wipe the tears off your face, pressing kisses to both of your cheeks.

“i know, baby, i know,” he reassures you, his own skin slick and cool in the evening air as he continues to drive into you relentlessly. you ignore how uncomfortable the exposed stone on your naked body is because you’re almost there and you know he is too.

“m’gonna come, honey,” he tells you, hands coming up to pinch your nipples at the same time he bites into your neck. “you gonna let me come in you? give you my birthday present?”

you can barely speak, babbling incoherently as your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head but you nod eagerly, nails digging into his back as he uses you to chase his orgasm.

“come for me, baby - c’mon, milk my cock, s’all yours.”

his words push you over the edge, your entire body convulsing as your breath is snatched from your lungs. you contract around his length and he stills entirely as he spills his release into you, the guttaral moan that leaves his chest raw and animalistic.

“fuck,” he drawls as he presses his forehead against yours.

“right?” you agree, looking right into his pretty eyes, brighter than the lights behind you.

he presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

“happy birthday, baby.”

“thank you,” you kiss the corner of his mouth and run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, “i love you.”

as his chin rests on your shoulder, you take a minute to appreciate how thoughtful the big blonde man in your arms and you don’t think you’ve ever loved anyone this much in your life.

“can we do this every birthday?”

you laugh at his suggestion and tug lightly on his hair, heart about to explode from adoration.

“sure we can.”

“hey, lovebirds!” tony’s voice makes the two of you jump in surprise. “i’m not gonna turn the corner because i know for a fact that you’re not wearing any clothes, but i should definitely warn you that bucky and sam are on their way up with their phones... so unless you want a pornhub feature, i’d haul ass and get back downstairs if i were you. happy birthday, y/n!”

you both look at each other and then the mess that is your pile of clothes, and in unison you both realize that you’re fucked either way. but you know that it’s worth it since you’ve had the best birthday surprise ever, but you still don’t know how much steve is gonna love having his ass on display for his best friends.

“y/n! stevie! wh- oh fuck, are you kidding me?!”

that’s bucky, sounding traumatized as he sees the two of you stark naked.

“wh- damn, i didn’t expect you guys to actually be fuckin’.”

sam sounds genuinely shocked but simultaneously looks impressed. you close your eyes in amused mortification because steve’s body is shielding yours entirely and now, sam and bucky have a full view of his pale backside.

“guys,” he groans, blood rushing to his cheeks.

a flash goes off and steve cries out in protest. you laugh in disbelief, staring at bucky holding his phone up with a grin.

“happy birthday, y/n.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers drabbles #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers blurbs #requests

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rhodeys · 4 years

Note

I wish you would write a fic where tony has accidentally turned into a child and Rhodey has to babysit him Thanks !!

thank you for the prompt! 💞💞

(i may have had too much fun with this)

The thing is, Rhodey's used to being greeted by an empty penthouse every time he decides to check up on Tony. It's precisely the reason why the rest of the penthouse blend into the background while he makes his way to the private elevator that leads to Tony's workshop – the sectional sofa, the mezzanine, the staircase leading to the mezzanine, the kid, the–

Rhodey does a double take.

There's a child in the penthouse - staring back at him like a baby deer caught in the headlights. The child blinks, just once, before brown eyes are back to being impossibly wide over the tiny hand perched upon the glass handrail. He's wearing a black t-shirt that's ten sizes too big for him, the edges of it ending at his knees. His feet are on two different stairs, almost like he'd been in the middle of making his way down before Rhodey conveniently barged in. The child doesn't even move a muscle.

"Uh," is all Rhodey says, eyes flicking around the penthouse in sudden uncertainty before he turns to the boy. "Hey."

The boy continues to stare at Rhodey for five odd seconds, making the older man feel oddly conscious. And then, finally, a careful: "Hi."

"Hey," Rhodey says again, softer now. "Are you alone here?" He scans the empty penthouse once more. "Where are your parents?"

"Why?" The boy is quick to ask, tone changing as his eyes narrow, and Rhodey's never seen a five-six-whatever-year old sound so defensive. "Where are yours?"

Rhodey's taken aback, if only for a brief second, at the sudden shift in tone. Brown eyes are no longer wide, but slitted with something close to suspicion. "They're not–" Rhodey starts. Stops. "I'm sorry. Just–" He turns his head away, still maintaining wary eye contact with the boy, and calls out in the general direction of Tony's bedroom. "Tony?"

"Yeah?" The boy asks.

"No, not– that's my friend," Rhodey elaborates, making a vague motion with his hands to the space around them. "Have you seen anyone else around here?"

"Is your friend's name Tony, too?" The boy asks, slowly continuing to make his way down the stairs, sharp eyes still fixated on Rhodey.

"Yeah. He's–" Rhodey starts, and then something the boy had said registers. "Wait. Too? What's your name?"

The boy finally takes the last step, and it's right then that Rhodey sees the familiar design of Black Sabbath printed across the oversized t-shirt. The sleeves were pulled up and knotted at awkward angles to prevent it from dangling down tiny arms. "Tony," the boy says.

Rhodey's lips part in growing surprise as he takes in the messy waves of dark hair, matched with a pair of brown eyes that shine too bright, the layer of chub across a familiar bone structure, and the all too familiar expression of suspicion that Rhodey was once subjected to in MIT – one that, over the years, had eventually been hidden behind a perfected mask of cool. "Tony."

"Yeah," the boy says, making a face like Rhodey's being stupid. "S'what I just said."

---

"I mean," Rhodey clarifies, pinching the bridge of his nose after Pepper had calmly pointed out through the call that Tony's always been a child. "He's an actual kid. Physically. He's–" he cuts off as he shifts his attention to Tony, who's scowling from the other end of the sectional with tiny arms crossed over his chest. "Do you know how old you are?"

"Course I do," Tony huffs out, eyes narrowing in offense. "I'm eight."

"Eight? Kinda short for an eight year old, aren't you?" Rhodey teases, and Tony's eyes narrow even further. The boy looks away just as his cheeks flush pink at the jab aimed at his stature.

"Wait. Is that Tony?" Pepper's voice filters through the phone. "It doesn't sound like him."

"Gee, I wonder why eight year old Tony doesn't sound like fifty year old Tony."

"How are you even sure it's him? Did you ask Jarvis?"

"Trust me, I'm sure," Rhodey says, deciding against bringing up when eight year old Tony had unashamedly called out 'who's the broad?' the second Pepper answered the phone, which ended with Rhodey fumbling to put the phone off of speaker.

"And Jarvis isn't responding. He must have gone down when Tony did– well, whatever he did." Rhodey sneaks a quick glance at his watch. It's been almost an hour since he walked into this debacle. "He should be back up soon."

"Okay," Pepper says after a heavy sigh. Her calm demeanor doesn't even surprise Rhodey – god knows the pair of them have been through enough and more of Tony's eccentricity. When it comes to Tony, this is just another day for them. "Jim, listen. I'm still in DC, but I'll be there in a few hours." There's distinct shuffling from her side. "Just– stay put. Read him a book. Put him to sleep."

"Put him to–" Rhodey cuts himself off before he can even consider the ridiculousness of the suggestion. "This is Tony."

"And you're his best friend. Which is why I'm sure you'll figure something out." And by thrusting her sheer level of confidence upon Rhodey, Pepper ends the call, leaving him staring helplessly at the phone in his hand. He looks over at Tony, who immediately looks away, defensive hands still folded across his chest in an act of petulance.

Pepper had a point, Rhodey figures. Smaller Tony can't differ much from the real deal. He just has to make Tony talk; keep him occupied. Maybe play an R-rated movie–

"Keep staring at me like that, 'm gonna think you're a pedophile."

"Jesus Christ."

---

They're not even ten minutes into watching Eraserhead before Tony decides it's too unrealistic, and therefore not worth his time.

"What?" Rhodey asks, barely able to suppress the disbelief in his voice. Tony loved this movie – even watched it twice a month, every month, while they were in MIT. Sure, it had Rhodey worried for Tony's sanity at first, but he got around to movie nights soon enough. "You love this movie."

"Nope," Tony says, and that's that.

---

"Aren't you too old to be a babysitter?" Tony asks after spending a whole of five minutes scrutinizing Rhodey with a fairly impressive stink eye.

Rhodey huffs out a breathy laugh. "Tell that to the guy who put me here."

"Maybe I will," Tony says pointedly – sounding like he fully intended to file a formal complaint. "Where is he?"

"You're talking to him," Rhodey says, which shuts Tony up.

---

Rhodey's making a mental checklist of how else he can entertain eight year old Tony who hates Eraserhead – when Jarvis comes online.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Rhodes," Jarvis greets, and Rhodey immediately shoots a silent prayer of gratitude to the AI. On the other side of the sectional, Tony's head jerks up in surprise from where he was fiddling with the StarkTab – eyes darting around for the voice.

"I apologize for my inactivity. My servers may have been affected while Sir was testing the functions of…" Jarvis trails off, and there's a very telling silence that follows – Jarvis apparently having noticed Tony's absence and the kid's presence. Tony's still looking around for the source, and when his attempt turns futile, decides to zero in on Rhodey.

"Mr. Rhodes," Jarvis starts, his words edging on hesitation. "Is that–"

"Yep."

---

Tony takes it upon himself to find out the source of the voice. There's ten minutes of Tony opening and closing doors, crouching under tables, checking behind furniture five times his size, and because Tony - no matter the age – is still Tony, returns to where Rhodey's seated, newfound determination plastered across his face. "Who was that?"

"Who was who?" Rhodey asks, raising an innocent brow.

"The guy who was just talking to you."

"Don't see any guy here."

"I heard him."

"Heard who?"

"The guy!" Tony blurts out hotly, throwing his arms out in frustration as his cheeks flush a shade of red. The movement makes the full sleeves of Tony's undershirt break from the knot Tony had made, resulting in them splaying out like loose wires before they end up dangling flimsily at his sides. Tony pays no mind, and Rhodey tries to pay no mind.

"Which guy?" Rhodey asks, and he can barely contain his grin watching the way Tony puffs his chest, lips parting to make way for whatever childish blabber before they snap shut in annoyance.

His face turns into a scowl as he brings his arms back across his chest, dangling sleeves and all. "Stop pulling my leg."

"Whatever you say, kid."

"Not a kid."

"You're, like, five."

Tony looks like he's about to explode from frustration. "Eight!"

"Full fledged adult, then."

---

"You have a lot of grey hair," Tony speaks up all of a sudden, working on the offense this time.

"You're short," Rhodey answers without missing a beat.

"But I'll grow," Tony says, grinning now, like he'd struck gold. "I'll be taller than you."

"Oh, yeah," Rhodey agrees for the sake of entertaining the kid, deciding against breaking his bubble as much as he'd like to. He adds an enthusiastic "definitely."

Tony, self-proclaimed genius that he is, catches on to the intent. He looks almost giddy with excitement as he crawls over from his place on the sectional to where Rhodey's sitting. "You're jealous!" Tony exclaims, eyes shining in delight. "Aren't you? You're jealous that I'm gonna be taller than you!"

"You got me, kid," Rhodey shrugs, a lopsided smile pulling at his lips. "What can I say? Life can be a– biscuit, sometimes."

"A bitch, you mean."

---

They go through the StarkPad together, not that Tony needed much help anyway, seeing as he already figured out most of how it works by himself. Rhodey gets his fair share of questions anyway, from why do people need such a big screen? to I can watch an entire movie in this?

"Ha, this makes you look even older!" is the first thing points out when Rhodey switches it to the front camera.

"Yeah, yeah," Rhodey says smiling, and in a split second, contorts his face just as a grinning Tony holds up the tablet and takes a selfie of them.

"This is so cool," Tony exclaims in barely contained excitement as he proceeds to take a dozen more pictures of himself, some of which Rhodey accidentally ends up in the background of.

"Yeah, remember my friend Tony? He made it."

Tony perks up, suddenly more interested, and Rhodey thinks he's going to ask more about the StarkPad until– "Is he taller than you?"

Rhodey snorts. "He wishes. Tony used to stuff paper balls into his shoes when we were in MIT. He wears heels now."

"I know MIT! My dad studied there," Tony says, and Rhodey makes a surprised sound, like that wasn't news to him at all. Tony cocks his head, eyebrows knitting as if something just occurred to him. "Wait, how does he wear heels?"

"He gets them custom made into his shoes."

A pause. Then: "And he's still shorter than you?"

"Yep."

"That must suck balls."

"Yep."

---

"You never told me your name," Tony says out of the blue after spending a good few minutes drooling into Rhodey's shoulder while he was dead to the world.

"It's Jim."

Tony shifts, drawing his feet towards himself so he can curl into Rhodey's chest. "That's an old man's name," Tony points out softly.

"Rhodey, then."

"How many names do you have?"

Honeybear, Platypus, Sourpatch– "A few."

"My name is Anthony," Tony says, voice softening even more, as if he'd pass out any moment now. "But nobody calls me that anymore."

"Thought you didn't like-"

"Because when they do, I kick 'em in the dick," Tony finishes, words coming out in soft mumble before he drifts back to sleep.

---

When Pepper walks into the penthouse an hour later and spots Tony snuggled against Rhodey's side, soaking his polo shirt wet with drool, she flashes him a triumphant smile. I told you so.

#tony stark #james rhodes #rhodey #ironhusbands #tonyrhodey #dhsjsjs what else do you tag #drabble #deaged tony #pavi writes #asks #pavi.txt #rhodeytony #missing-tony

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snarkythewoecrow · 3 years

Note

Heyy, your addiction fics are so well written and with care enough to not trigger someone, I was hoping I could request one? Like Peter's in college and the stress gets to him so for a while he like loses his mind and turns to partying but his family helps him? you don't have to write this ofc, love your fic! (I'm spideyreids2003 on ao3!)

Thanks for the prompt! I had fun writing this.

***Warning for alcohol abuse and drug use***

Read on Ao3

“Peter, maybe you should call it a night, get some extra sleep.” Ned tried to reason, but Peter wasn’t listening. He was three drinks in and working toward a buzz already and didn’t want to go back to their dorm.

College turned out to be different than Peter had expected. He’d planned to focus on his studies, make some new friends, get good grades, and impress Tony. He was attending the man’s alma mater, after all, but things had a funny way of working out.

Peter had started school with big dreams, but a few months into the year, and he was struggling against the current to stay afloat. His grades didn’t come as easily for him as they did in high school, and his life wasn’t as easy either. Everything was more complicated. There were days he felt like a failure, and maybe in some ways, he was one. He certainly wasn’t handling the stress like he should.

He’d spent his life abiding by the rules, and maybe that played a role in his new coping mechanism. Perhaps it was a cry for help. Either way, the partying he had been doing drowned out the noise in his head and made things a little easier to deal with at the moment, though there was always a price to pay.

The more he partied, the more his grades slipped. The more his grades slipped, the more defeated he felt, making him want an escape, so he would drink himself into a stupor and try to forget. He knew it was a problem, but he couldn’t see a better solution. So the cycle continued unchecked.

Then there was Ned, who stood in front of where Peter sat on the couch, giving him his best disapproving face. Peter wanted to go back to when they were in high school, and things were simpler between them, but he couldn’t, so he needed to accept how things were now, which meant that Peter wasn’t the same kid he used to be. Drinking had given him a way to muffle the chaos in his head and have a little fun, too. Ned didn’t understand, probably because Ned was better than him. He always had been.

Peter put up a good front, but he had always struggled beneath his mask. He knew he wasn’t perfect, and now that he was in college, facing pressure like never before, that mask was cracking. It was clear for anyone who dared look that Peter was falling apart. Some people might see a college kid partying and having fun, but if someone were to look closely, they’d see it was more nefarious. Peter was using it as a cover to hide his failures.

He knew it wasn’t good, but Peter never claimed to be great at self-care.

“I’m good here.” Peter sipped from his Solo cup, glancing up at Ned. "Really, I’ll just stay for a few hours, and then I’ll walk back.”

Ned pursed his lips. “I don’t like leaving you here. It’s never good, Peter. You’ve been doing this too much lately. What would May think?”

Peter downed the last of his drink. That was a low blow. May had been dead for nearly a year. A man had charged into the emergency room, shooting anyone unlucky enough to cross his path. Of course, May hadn’t stayed hidden. She’d run across the hall to grab a child and got shot. By the time they could get to her, she was gone.

Peter didn’t need to be a psychiatrist to know that her death played a part in his current spiral. At minimum, it didn’t help his sleep, which came at a premium these days, something that wasn’t helping matters at all.

After his aunt died, Tony stepped up to help him, paying for his college and making sure he wanted nothing, making Peter’s current situation feel even worse. He wasn’t just letting down May’s memory by partying like he was, but he was letting down Tony, too. Peter didn’t want to think about what Tony would say about his new lifestyle. The worst thing was, he’d probably be understanding, telling Peter it was okay and sharing stories about his own struggles, which just made Peter feel worse.

He deserved Tony’s anger, maybe some choice words. You didn’t blow your college career by partying and not expect some consequences.

What kind of person did this make him? Not Spider-Man, that was for sure. He hadn’t even gone out to patrol in months. He didn’t feel like a hero anymore. He and Spider-man couldn’t be further apart. Maybe it was time they parted ways, at least for a while.

Peter pushed himself up to get another drink, nearly bumping into Ned, who had to hastily step back to avoid him.

“Peter, come on, man.” Ned’s voice chased after him.

Peter glanced over his shoulder, briefly meeting Ned’s gaze. He didn’t like the concern he saw, so he looked away, going back to making another drink.

“I’m really fine, Ned. Trust me.”

“Maybe a year ago, before everything got bad, I would have, but I don’t think you’re thinking straight anymore. I think you need to talk to someone.”

Peter turned around, taking a sip of his drink. It was more alcohol than soda, and it burned his throat. He welcomed the feeling. It would take a lot to get him drunk. His mutation made it hard to get there, but the payoff was worth it. He relished the moment when the world blurred, and everything hurt a little less.

The music thumped in the background, and someone bumped into Ned, making him frown and cast his disapproving glare in their direction. Peter swirled his drink in the red plastic cup, watching it slosh around before sucking down the contents in a few big gulps. When he looked at Ned, his expression had turned hurt. His shoulders slumping, Ned shook his head, stepping forward to put a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“I’ll see you back at the dorm, right? Not too late?” Ned asked.

Peter pushed back against his guilt and smiled. “Yeah, yeah, I won’t be out past three.”

Sighing, Ned patted his shoulder twice and then disappeared into the crowd. Peter stared at the people for a moment before turning back to refill his drink. The ache in his chest was back, and he wanted to forget. He wanted to let everything go and have fun.

Peter downed another drink, then headed for the couch where a bowl of pills was being passed around. He didn’t normally get into drugs, but he was missing May, and he wanted to have a little fun. He joined them, sitting next to a girl he recognized from one of his classes. He didn’t know what it was that he took, but he didn’t care either. Soon, he felt himself relaxing, and he spent the rest of the night drinking and melting into the couch.

He woke up in the morning or thought it was morning, but from the bright sun coming in the windows, he realized it might be closer to noon. He wasn’t in his bed, and when he turned his cheek, it scratched on the polyester fabric of the couch. Blinking his eyes, it took a moment to place himself, but then he saw the cups and beer bottles, and hazy memories of the previous night drifted back.

Groaning, he scrubbed a hand over his eyes and sat up, his foot bumping into a body on the floor. Squinting, he looked at the ground and saw someone was passed out on the floor between the couch and coffee table.

He needed to get out of here. Ned was going to kill him.

He stepped over the body and patted his pockets for his phone. He needed to see the time. He’d probably missed class again, and his professor wasn’t going to be understanding. He’d already missed a bunch.

Feeling his phone in his pocket, he grabbed it and checked the time. Shit. It was after eleven. As he went to stuff his phone back in his pocket, Thunderstruck started playing, and he looked down to see Tony’s face lighting up the screen.

Double shit.

Scrubbing a hand over his face quickly, he answered the call and brought the phone to his ear. He scratched at his hair as he greeted Tony.

“Hey, Tony, what’s up?”

“I should ask you. Ned called.”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat. He’d be talking to Ned later about boundaries. For now, though, he needed to deal with the fallout.

“Oh, really? What did he say?” He tried to keep his voice even, but it raised in tone at the end. His nerves were getting to him.

“He said you didn’t come home. Again. Seems to be a running problem with you lately. I thought everything was going okay. What’s going on, Peter?”

“No, it’s no big deal. I just stayed out late, um, studying.”

Tony hummed. “That’s interesting. Tell you what. I need to straighten away a few things here, and then I’ll fly out. I can be there tonight.”

“Wait, what? No, no, no, you don’t need to come out here.” The last thing he needed was to see Tony��s expression fall when he saw what a mess Peter was. “It’s fine. It’s all fine. I swear. You don’t need to come out here.”

“I’ll see you tonight, kid. Maybe shower or something before I get there. Ned mentioned something about you going through a grunge phase.”

“I’m not—” He started to argue, but Tony hung up. Huffing out a frustrated breath, Peter shoved the phone back into his pocket and weaved his way through the mess to get back to his dorm.

He was going to kill Ned.

“Why did you call Tony?” Peter asked as soon as he was in the door.

Ned was at the desk, working on his computer. He turned to look at Peter. His expression was hard to read, though. Peter thought he looked a little smug, but maybe he was just imagining it.

“I’ve tried talking to you for months, and it hasn’t done any good. You’re blowing your chance here. You spend more time at parties than you do in class. It’s not cool, Peter. If I can’t stop you, maybe Mr. Stark can.” He finished with a shrug and turned back to his computer.

Peter was angry, but he couldn’t blame Ned. He was only trying to help, part of what made Ned a better person than Peter. Sighing, he walked over to his bed and flopped down.

What was he going to do?

At some point, he showered and put on some questionable clothes. He found them under his bed. Other than a few wrinkles, they seemed okay. At least they didn’t smell. He needed to prioritize things a little better. Laundry came after everything else.

He skipped his classes that day, too stressed about Tony coming to attend. He was already in deep with his professors. He couldn’t see how missing another day would hurt.

Sometime after their ramen dinner they made in a coffee pot, Ned left to visit a friend, leaving Peter to anxiously await Tony’s arrival.

At seven o’clock, there was a knock at the door, and Peter had to take a deep breath to collect himself before opening the door.

It was Tony.

“Jesus, kid. Ned wasn’t kidding about the grunge phase,” Tony said by way of greeting.

Peter forced a smile, running his fingers through his hair. “Come in, sorry it’s not much, but, um, it’s a dorm. You’ve been here, so you know.”

Tony nodded and entered the room, turning around slowly and taking it in. He settled in the desk chair, looking at Peter expectantly. “So, I think we need to talk, and depending on what you, depends on whether you get to stay, or if you take some time and collect yourself.”

It felt like something had punched Peter in the gut. He’d never considered not being able to stay. Tony wouldn’t do that to him, would he? He scrambled for something to say, anything to make this better.

“It’s not that bad. I don’t know what Ned said, but it’s fine.”

“That you’ve been getting wasted every night, and not surprisingly, your grades are slipping. Ned tells me you’ve been missing classes because you're too hungover to go. He's worried about you—I’m worried about you.”

Tony’s eyes were soft and full of concern, and Peter didn’t deserve it. He’d been screwing up, and he knew it, and Tony should be angry. He should hate him for wasting his money. Instead, he just looked worried, and that stung worse.

Part of him wanted to lie, to make up some half-truth to explain his behavior, but another part of him was tired. Now that Tony knew, Peter didn’t want to fight it. Since May had died, he’d been struggling to kick his feet to stay above water. He’d made some bad choices, but maybe he didn’t need to drown here.

“I’m sorry,” Peter’s voice cracked on the words. “I’m sorry, Tony. I’ve really made a mess of things, and I don’t even know why.” Tears pricked at his eyes, and he wiped them in frustration. “I’ve really fucked things up.”

Tony stood, crossing over to Peter and pulling him into a hug before he could object.

Peter melted into his arms, feeling grounded for the first time in a while. Tony was solid and real and there. He existed and wasn’t going away. His presence eased Peter’s anxious thoughts. Even his cologne was familiar and made him feel safe and at home.

After a minute, Tony pulled back, holding Peter by the shoulders.

Peter wiped his tears again, sniffling. “I’m sorry, Tony.”

Tony shook his head. “We’ll figure this out. I think you know I have some history with drinking and partying.”

Peter gave him a watery smile. “Yeah, I remember Rhodey telling me you peed in your suit.”

Tony laughed. “It was warm for a minute at least, but it puddled in my boot.”

“Ew, Tony. That’s gross.”

“I’m sure you’ve done some regrettable things, too. I remember what it’s like to be single and in college. Now, here's what we're going to do. We’re going to sit down, and you’re going to show me what’s happening with your grades.”

“You don’t have to. I can handle it.”

Tony raised a brow. “Really? You’re gonna try for that? I think we both know you need a hand. We can figure this out. I honestly think it might be good for you to take some time off.”

“And do what? I need school.”

“And see a therapist. Talking to someone can help. I wouldn’t be surprised if you still haven’t processed losing your aunt. I think even a few months to get your head on straight might make a difference. Come back at the start of a new year—a fresh start and all that jazz.”

Peter frowned. He didn’t want to miss school, but he also felt like he was spiraling out of control, and he didn’t know if he could salvage things. Maybe what Tony was offering wasn’t so bad.

Tony squeezed his shoulder. “Just think about it, kid. We don’t need to decide today, just know the option is there. I can pull some strings. They don’t name a building after you for nothing.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, can I think about it?”

“Sure, like I said, we have time. Now, why don’t we skip looking over the damage and just go grab a bite? You look like a hobo skeleton. Have you eaten anything green this year?”

Peter gave him a weak laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is ramen a vegetable?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Not quite, kiddo, but good try. God, I don’t miss college.”

They went out to dinner, and Peter spent the night thinking over Tony’s offer. He even ate something green. The last year had been a disaster, and Peter didn’t even know how to get back on track. Maybe a reset was what he needed. May had always wanted him to succeed, and Peter wanted to make her proud, something he wasn’t doing now.

He didn’t need to think any longer. He knew what he had to do. All he needed was a little time and maybe a little help, and he would be okay. He was just glad to have Tony around to help him.

#irondad #peter parker #tony stark #tw: drugs #tw: alcohol #snark writes

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imanativeofswlondondahling · 4 years

Text

Becoming A Stark (4) Peter Parker X Stark! FemReader

A/N: So this is the longest chapter I’ve written for this so far! And it’s one of my favorites. Also my mom surprised me with a Nintendo Switch to make up for the fact that I haven’t been allowed to leave the house since March so I’m hoping to get another chapter of this out this weekend but there’s also Animal Crossing now so.......... As always let me know your thoughts on this or if you want to be tagged whenever I post a new chapter!

Word Count: 8346

Warnings: Mention of drug and alcohol abuse, swearing I think

Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Master List

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Tony’s voice is painted with the smile he wears as Pepper walks into the living room.

“You saw me two days ago.”

“Two days too long.” He says before kissing her cheek. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“That’s because this is just a stop. I’m not staying. I’m picking up Y/N.”

“You’re taking Y/N…?” He trails off in confusion.

“We’re going to get mani/pedis, do some back to school clothes shopping, and maybe get dinner. I want to get to know your daughter better.”

“She seems fine with hanging out with everyone except me.” Tony says dejectedly.

“You’re an acquired taste.” Pepper teases before placing a quick kiss on his lips. “Give her time. She hasn’t had even a week of having a father yet.”

“What time will you be back?” He asks, already knowing that he’ll have to fill his afternoon by himself.

“Six or seven maybe?” Tony glances at the Stark Phone that he’s actually started carrying with him now that it’s more personal. Natasha had snapped a picture of Y/N at, apparently, your favorite place in the whole city, which looks like a big book store. You’re not even looking at the camera, you’re carrying a ton of books and yet reaching for another one, but you’re smiling which is more than he can say for the past few days. When Natasha sent it to him, he immediately made it his background and lock screen. It may not have been a week, but you’re definitely becoming his world. “I’m going to see if she’s ready to go.”

You take one last look in the mirror, trying to decide if this is the outfit you want to be seen out in the world with famous Pepper Potts. Maybe you should change and dress up, but you’d rather be comfortable if you’re being honest. So instead of a dress or a romper, you’re in a pair of ripped denim shorts, a Rolling Stones t-shirt that you found at a thrift store a few months ago for so cheap but it’s in such good condition, and tie dyed high tops. You had thrown your hair into a ponytail with a red scrunchy only because the humidity was too much today. There’s a knock on the door. “Come in.” Jerk It Out by Caesars is playing over JARVIS, but he turns it down as Pepper walks into your room. You are in the middle of putting on the heart shaped pendant that Nana had given you for your thirteenth birthday as Pepper stands across your room.

“You ready to head out?” You glance back at the mirror once more time as you see Pepper in a red cocktail length dress.

“Do I need to dress up?” You ask, suddenly worried that your shorts and t-shirt won’t cut it in Pepper’s world.

“Honestly no. I probably should change. I came from a business lunch at this overly posh restaurant. If you’re good waiting like five minutes, I’ll go change.”

“Yeah I’ll be fine.” You grab a bag from your pile of bags, throw your wallet, a testing kit and then wander down to the kitchen to grab some low snacks.

“Rolling Stones?” Tony asks in mock surprise. “Couldn’t wear something like AC/DC or Black Sabbath? Have some taste if you’re really my daughter.”

“If you’re having doubts, I’ll go home to Nana and Pops.” You say as you throw the applesauce pouches in your purse.

“Nope. Not happening. I’ll forgive your subpar music taste, but we’ll get working on music education soon.” You just roll your eyes. You weren’t going to admit to him that you already listen to AC/DC a good chunk of the time and when in the right mood you listened to Black Sabbath.

“Y/N Miss Potts wants to know if you want her to grab you a pair of sandals for your pedicure.” JARVIS asks.

“I’ll grab a pair.” Turning to make your way back up the stairs, you walk back into your room. Grabbing the first pair of sandals you see. As you walk out your door, you see Pepper walking towards you in a loose white top, denim shorts, and a pair of sandals. “That’s the most laid back I think I’ve ever seen you.”

“That’s because you see me coming from SI most of the time and I have to dress up for that. But we’re going for comfy and casual now.” She smiles at you. “Did your dad see your shirt?”

“And give me crap for my subpar music taste? Yeah.”

“I had a feeling he might.”

“That’s why he’s not invited.” Pepper laughs.

“It’s not because we’re going shopping and for mani/pedis which he would be miserable at anyway?”

“That too. But still, if he hates on the Stones, he’s not invited.” Pepper lets out another laugh as the two of you walk back into the kitchen.

“What joke did I miss out on this time?” Tony asks.

“You had to be there.” You say instead of explaining.

“It’s nothing.” Pepper says, leaning over to place a kiss on his lips.

“I can’t tell if you’re corrupting her or the other way around.” Tony says as the two of you walk towards the elevator. “Maybe I should come along for supervision.”

“Bye Tony.” Pepper says, rolling her eyes before telling JARVIS to take them down to the garage. “So where do you normally go for back to school shopping?”

“Well we never had a ton of money, so Nana and I usually hit up the thrift stores. But I find great deals like this,” You motion to your shirt. “Four bucks and it’s basically brand new. Well as brand new as an old shirt can be.”

“Where are your favorite shops?”

“We’d go to Buffalo Exchange if we were looking for more like dresses and stuff. Like that one I wore to dinner I got at the Buffalo Exchange on the lower East Side. But there’s also a handful of good mom and pop thrift shops in Queens and Brooklyn if you’d rather head over that way. Bayside Thrift Shop is a good one in Queens or there’s Out of the Closet in Brooklyn.”

“Which one do you have better luck at?” Pepper asks as they walk to where Happy is waiting for them.

“I’ve always had great luck at Bayside.”

“So lets start there and then we can head to Buffalo Exchange before mani/pedis.” Pepper suggests.

“Where are we heading?” Happy asks as you and Pepper slide into the backseat.

“Bayside Thrift Shop in Queens.” Pepper turns to you. “Want to put some music on while we drive over?”

“Really?”

“Nothing you put on can be worse than what Tony puts on when he’s in a bad mood.” She says with a smile.

“Um ok. JARVIS can you play my June playlist?” You ask before he can list that you have a playlist called Tony Stark Can Rot. For some reason you feel like she wouldn’t like that as much.

“Certainly Y/N.” The first notes of Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns N’ Roses start to play and you relax into the seat. If you had headphones in, it would feel like all the times that you, Betty, and Astrid had gone between Queens and the main island during the summer. The biggest difference was you weren’t crammed into the humid subway car and sitting to your right was your dad’s girlfriend, who was the farthest from the evil stepmother character from the thousands of books you read growing up. In fact, she is sweet and kind, someone you could find yourself loving easily.

You turn your head towards the window and focus on the passing sights of NYC as you head towards the area you had lived your whole life. You could point out the hospital you had been born at if you turned down the right streets. If you went up a few blocks you would pass your elementary school, your middle school, and the school you’d be starting at in a little over a week. Your whole life up until a few days ago centered on this area of New York. That bodega was the first one you had been able to run to on your own and that’s the street you take to go the back way to Betty’s old apartment. “Missing home?” Pepper asks, seeing you staring out the window with longing.

“This place is all I knew for the longest time. I spent more time in Queens than I did in Manhattan.” You say with a shrug, not wanting to sound ungrateful, but you miss home.

“You’ve gone through a lot this week. It’s ok to miss it.” Pepper’s hand rests on yours and gives it a little squeeze. “Queens can always be home, even if you’re living in Midtown.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever give Queens up.”

“Even when I’m in Malibu, I miss New York like crazy. It’s definitely home.” You listen to what Pepper’s saying as Happy turns the familiar path to head towards your favorite thrift store. He pulls into a lot across the way from the thrift store before getting out to open the door for you and Pepper. “Now, will you show me your favorite thrift shop?” Pepper asks.

“Easily. This place is meant to be shared.” You can’t help but smile as the three of you cross the street.

“What do you like the best about Bayside?”

“They tend to have a lot of graphic tees. Both of like the band variety but also just like sassy variety. And I could live in tees if I didn’t have to wear other clothes sometimes.” You admit as you open the door and hear the familiar chime. You see Anita at the counter as you walk in.

“Y/N! We thought we were going to miss you for back to school shopping.”

“Never! I have to come to Bayside.” You say, being completely honest.

“Where’s your Nana?”

“I brought my… Pepper this time.” You say motioning to your dad’s girlfriend, but not knowing how to introduce her.

“Well any friend of Y/N is a friend of ours. We thought you might be coming by, so I set a few things aside that you might be interested in.” Anita reaches behind the counter and pulls a stack of about four t-shirts out. Pepper watches as your face lights up. “We just got them in.” You lift the top couple up to look at the bottom couple.

“These are awesome!” The black and grey shirts look similar to things that Tony would wear, but Pepper keeps that to herself.

“I’ve got them. You keep looking.” Happy says as he takes the shirts from your hands.

“Happy, I can carry them-”

“It’s clothes, they’re not heavy. I’ve got it.”

“Thank you Happy.” Pepper trails a couple steps behind you as you finger through the shirts handing. The first to get pulled off the rack is a Nirvana shirt with a yellow smiley face on it. Then a blue tie dyed Pink Floyd 1973 tour shirt follows it.

“That’s one your dad can’t even try to say he was at. Three year olds weren’t allowed.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile at Pepper’s comment. You find another more classic looking Pink Floyd shirt hanging on the rack a few shirts back that you add to your pile.

“If I had been wearing that would he have said I had better music choices?”

“Probably. He’s just judgmental when it comes to music.”

“The Stones are classics!” You argue as your hands run through the racks to fall on a Sweet Child O’ Mine Shirt. “Oh this one is a winner.” It has a faded look to it and you love that in your shirts.

“Definitely so.” Pepper takes it from the rack and hands it to Happy. “To be fair to all your tastes, I think this one is needed though,” she says pulling another Rolling Stones shirt from the rack and you smile at it.

“They are my favorite.”

“Tony would die if he heard that.” You shrug. “Wanna try these on?” Pepper motions towards the pile that Happy is holding.

“Sure.” But then an Eagles Hotel California Tour 1977 shirt catches your eye. “One more for the road.” You say before snagging the shirt. You try on the shirts you had found before getting to the stack that Anita had put aside for you. You look at the four finally. The first was a grey Pink Floyd 1972 Carnegie Hall T-shirt?! Holy shit! Your mind might explode. Then there’s a black Aerosmith shirt with a boombox with wings that says ‘Let the Music Do The Talking’ which is such a big mood. Underneath that one there’s a black Nirvana Unplugged in NYC shirt which you have been looking for forever since you love that album. And last but not least there’s a classic looking Guns N’ Roses printed on black shirt in a gold font. Anita knows you well. Four of your favorite bands and to be honest four of your new favorite shirts. So far all of the shirts fit pretty well, or even fall on the large side which is how you like your t-shirts.

Pepper knocks on the fitting room door. “I found a couple things I think you’d like Y/N.” You open the door wearing the Guns N’ Roses shirt. “Oh I like that one.”

“Really?” You’re surprised that Pepper would be into band shirts.

“You think I could date your father and not be into what he considers some of the greatest musicians of our time?” Pepper smiles at you. “But also gold is just a good color for you and your skin tone.”

“I’m not going to be Iron Man at any point.”

“Wouldn’t want you to be. However I did grab these shirts because I think your dad’s reactions will be worth it.” You look at them and laugh.

“He’ll never let me leave the tower wearing them.”

“So wear them around the tower to bug him.” You close the door and try on the two shirts. The first is a tank top that you probably never would have looked at had all of this not happened. But Pepper was right. Tony would react to it, hopefully. Across the black fabric printed in white the shirt reads ‘I’m A Female’. Then in pink it reads ‘Fe = Iron, Male = Man” before finishing in white ‘Therefore I Am Iron Man’. You open the door to show Pepper.

“If I walked into the kitchen one day wearing this telling him I was going on a run, how much of a heart attack would I give him?” Pepper doesn’t have a chance to answer before Happy does.

“He will lock you in the tower. And possibly never let you leave.” Happy states, knowing how protective Tony is even after only knowing this kid for a few days.

“Worth it.” You and Pepper say with a teasing grin.

“Can I take a picture? That might be my favorite shirt so far.” Pepper asks. You nod and then, shocking even yourself, you throw your hand out in the standard Iron Man pose and Pepper snaps the photo. “I love it.” You smile and turn back into the dressing room before the flush takes over your face at the affection from your dad’s girlfriend. You shake your head, pushing the thoughts that want to invade your mind out of your head as you lift the last shirt up to change into it.

This one is grey and in white letters say ‘Screw Your “Lab Safety” I Want Superpowers”. Your dad was going to hate it for sure, knowing so many scientifically modified people. But you love it. Plus it’s so comfy. You roll the sleeves a bit and then open the door to show Pepper and Happy.

“He’s going to hate that one as well.” Happy says the moment he sees it.

“Or he’ll laugh and say show it to Steve.” Pepper says, cocking her head to one side. “Either way, we’re getting it.” In your head you know you shouldn’t buy all the shirts that you tried on, but even if you let Pepper pay for the two that she found, the remaining ones should only come up to about thirty dollars, and you think you have that much in your wallet. You collect all the clothes in the dressing room, which Happy immediately takes from you, and you follow Pepper and him towards check out when your eyes fall on the most beautiful jean jacket you’ve ever seen.

It was a medium wash jacket, that had been loved just enough that it was no longer stiff. It had some wear and tear in some spots, but it was loose enough that it would sit perfectly on you. You have to try it on. Pepper sees you debating about the jacket, but can’t figure out why you’re debating. “It’s a gorgeous jacket. Try it on.” You take it off the hanger, gently as if it was a child instead of a jacket, and slip it over your shoulders. Rolling the cuffs up a couple times so it didn’t hang over your hands you look down at the jacket, loving that it hits an inch or two below where your shorts do. “Now that is how a jean jacket should fit.” Pepper says, smiling that you found something you clearly loved on this trip. You slide it off your shoulders and the price catches your eyes. Yes, thrifting can be great, but the jacket is still fifty dollars even at the thrift store. You don’t have that much.

“I don’t need it.” You say, not wanting to bring up that you can’t afford it even if you did need it.

“I’m not taking no for an answer on that. A jacket that looks that perfect on you has to come home with you.” She places her hands gently on it and lifts it from your hands.

“Pepper, really I don’t-”

“Tony can afford it and it needs a good home.” Then it hits you, Pepper’s not going to make- no let you pay for any of this.

“You found many things today.” Anita says looking at the pile Happy and Pepper had made on the counter. “This is going to look the best on you.” She places a hand on the jacket that Pepper had added.

“She pulls it off like no one else.” Pepper agrees. Anita and Pepper chat about the weather and honestly you’re not sure what else because you just watch as the number climbs. You’ve been coming here for years and never seen the number go that high. Your heart falls into your gut when the jacket gets added. Looking in your purse, you know you have about forty dollars to your name and that wouldn’t cover even half of that right now. But Pepper hands over a black card, similar to the one that Natasha used the other day, and doesn’t even stop the conversation. It’s like this money thing doesn’t even bother her. But it definitely bothers you. Anita puts the clothes into a cloth bag and hands it to you.

“Thanks Anita.” You smile at her, but you don’t know when you’ll be back. All you’ll remember now is feeling uncomfortable for spending Tony’s money here. Happy opens the door and you follow Pepper out of the shop. Pepper is trying to make small talk but notices you looking nowhere but the ground. She takes the bag from you and hands it to Happy.

“Can you put this in the car?”

“But-”

“Five minutes?” She says. And technically, Pepper is his boss, so Happy nods.

“I’ll be right across the street.” She smiles as he walks across the street.

“So wanna talk about it?” She asks, bumping shoulders with you.

“Talk about what?”

“Why the ground is so interesting?” Pepper takes a pause trying to give you a chance to speak. “Or maybe about why you went so quiet in one of your favorite places?” Normally, you’d just keep it to yourself but for some reason, you don’t think Pepper will judge you.

“We, uh didn’t have a ton of money growing up. Whatever money we did have went to making sure we could afford rent and my insulin and making sure that there was food on the table. So once I was about eleven, some of the other people in our building would let me run errands for them or watch their younger kids and they would pay me some pocket money for doing it. And that pocket money I saved in a jar throughout the year so that once I could go back to school shopping and twice a year I could buy Nana and Pops something nice from Christmas and their birthdays. We didn’t really celebrate many holidays, but the ones we did we celebrated really small. Santa would bring me clothes while my friends would get touchpads and toys and I didn’t question it because I knew that while their families didn’t have to worry about whether or not you were going to have to choose between buying medicine you needed to live or putting food on the table.

But Nana and Pops tried to make it so I didn’t feel that. So when I got the chance to go to The Strand or Bayside, it wasn’t picking everything that caught your eye because I was the one paying for it. So I would buy one or two books or shirts because I couldn’t afford to spend all that money if I wanted to buy Christmas presents too.” You play with Queenie’s tubing, not wanting to look Pepper in the eyes as you continue. “But in the past three days, Natasha, Tony, you, whoever, have made it clear that Tony’s made of money and that he’s fine with spending it on books, phones, clothes, whatever he or anyone else wants. But there are people out there that aren’t that fortunate.

The money that Natasha spent buying me books the other day could have paid for my Nana’s medicine for a month. Or how much you just spent on clothing for me could have bought me clothing for the whole school year and bought Nana and Pops Christmas presents. Hell I looked up how much my new phone cost Tony and it could have paid for four months of insulin. That’s sixteen vials. But more importantly that’s nearly 1500 dollars. And I bet if I lost it, he would have a new one waiting for me.” Pepper lets you continue the rant, and doesn’t let you know that he added more upgrades to your phone than the baseline one that does indeed cost as much as your medicine does. But what she would rather talk about is why does your insulin cost that much? “You guys might not care about money, but it makes me sick every time that you drop this money on me. I’m not worth it.”

“First of all, you are definitely worth it and so much more. Tony has money just wasting away in the bank and likes to waste it on the people he loves. That means he’s going to drop money on you. But coming from the lifestyle you grew up in, it’s going to take some getting used to. Plus in his mind, he has fourteen years of Christmas presents and birthdays to make up for.” Pepper watches as your eyes go wide and knows that this might be the wrong thing to say. “But Tony is also up for doing things for charity. So maybe you can come up with an initiative that he can throw money towards for you. Like maybe fighting to lower the cost of insulin for others? Because while it’s not a problem now for you to afford it, why should it cost so much for others? Tony would definitely like to fight that. And that is something that SI can also get behind as well.” You look up for the first time since finding the jean jacket back in the shop.

“Really? SI would get behind something like that?” You ask, not understanding why a tech company would get behind something like the cost of insulin.

“Tony wants to look into manufacturing things to make diabetics' lives easier, which I told him he needs to talk to you about before doing anything. But your name is part of the company. You’re a Stark now. So anything that SI does, takes an interest in what you have an interest in. So yes, the cost of insulin is something that SI will fight for too. Help me do some research on who to support and we can start the battle as one of your first introductions to the world as Tony’s daughter?” You nod, knowing this is something you’ve always wanted to help with but never had the power to do anything about.

“Thank you.” You say, before doing something without thinking- you throw your arms around her. Her arms wrap around you, but she’s not sure what she’s being thanked for.

“What for?”

“Listening. Being here. Being human?” You say, joking about the last one, but it feels right.

“Of course. I don’t know how to be anything else.” She says and pulls on your ponytail a bit. “Now you want to show us around your neighborhood a bit before we head back to Manhattan?”

“You want to see it?” You ask, surprised that Pepper wants to see Queens.

“It’s part of what makes you you, so yes.” Happy finishes crossing the street to be back with the two of you.

“There’s a really great coffee shop up this way. Or if we go down this way there’s an amazing sandwich shop called Delmar’s. Oh and Pops goes to play chess at this park down that way.” You point out three different ways.

“Coffee sounds like a plan.” Pepper says. You drop your arms, not wanting to hold on to her longer than you’re allowed to but Pepper keeps an arm around your shoulder as you walk towards the coffee shop you love. It was always a treat when you got to go, but the smell alone was something you had missed. They make all their syrups from scratch and you could spend all day there reading if you were allowed.

As you walk, you point out the book shop where you sold the books you were done with to make some extra money, the apartment building that you, Nana, and Pops lived until there was a rat infestation, and the bodega that you used to go to to stock up on low supplies. You wave to some people that you know by face alone and smile at the feeling of being home. It feels nice to share this world with Pepper, and almost makes you wish Tony was here to show him what home feels like to you. It’s not throwing money around on things you don’t need. It’s the feeling of the sun on your skin as you walk around the streets you’ve known all your life.

At the coffee shop, Pepper buys you and Happy coffee, yours iced and his hot, as well as an iced tea for herself. “So I was thinking, we could go to Buffalo Exchange to try and find you some bottoms to go with the shirts we found for you, or maybe a dress or two? That way you have some clothes until the rest of your stuff gets moved from Queens?” You don’t say anything, but you know she’s right. You only have a few more sets of outfits and half of them aren’t appropriate for school. You force yourself to take a sip of your coffee as you nod your head. “We don’t have to Y/N. We can hold off.”

“No, we should. I don’t have that much stuff left at the tower and some of it is more wear at home type stuff.”

“Do you want to make a stop at your Nana and Pops house and get some more stuff?” Pepper asks.

“Can I?” You miss your Nana and Pops so much it hurts.

“Of course. Tony isn’t trying to keep you from them. And we’re already in the area.” You can’t stop the grin from exploding on your face. You know that Nana and Pops won’t have much more baggage you can put stuff in though so you turn to Marcie, who’s working at the counter.

“Hey Marcie, do you guys have any boxes that you haven’t broken down yet?”

“Actually yeah. We got shipments in this morning of some stuff. What size are you looking for?”

“Big enough to put some clothes and stuff in.”

“Ah moving apartments again?” Marcie had helped you with boxes when the rat situation happened. “Rats again?”

“Not rats, but something like that.” You say with a teasing smile. She walks to the back and grabs the couple bigger ones.

“Will these work?”

“Those are perfect!”

“You can have them on the condition that you still come and get coffee occasionally.”

“Deal! I’m going to go to MSST so I’ll still come by!”

“Then the boxes are all yours.” She hands them to you and Happy offers to take them from you. Marcie looks at him with confusion but you wave it off.

“Thanks Marcie!” You say before returning to the table where Pepper sits.

“I’ll bring the car up,” Happy says. “Be back in five minutes.”

“Thanks Happy.” Pepper says as Happy takes the boxes with him as he leaves the shop.

“You seem to know all the people at your favorite shops.” Pepper comments.

“New York is more like a small town when you think about it. We all go to the same businesses over and over again. Why shouldn’t we know the people who’s shops we frequent?” You shrug. “Plus Marcie is the best person to get boxes from when you have to move buildings. Then you don’t have to pay for them.” Pepper and you both drink your cold beverages as you sit waiting for Happy.

“Have you ever traveled anywhere?” Pepper asks, wanting to get to know you better. You shake your head.

“I’ve uh never left New York. We never really had the money.” You glance out the window. “I don’t even have a state ID, much less a passport.”

“Well we can get you an ID sweetheart, that’s easy. And knowing your dad, he’ll want to get you a passport since deciding to take last minute trips is one of his favorite things. But if you could go anywhere, where would you want to go?”

“You’re not going to like plan a trip, right? Because you’ve spent plenty-”

“Y/N, I just want to get to know you. Now if Tony asks you, I would answer on the bet that he wants to take you wherever you answer.”

“The kid in me wants to say Disney World because who doesn’t want to go. But I think the actual answer would be the Grand Canyon. I’ve always wanted to see if it’s as big as it looks in pictures. And the third choice would be London. So many writers lived there and I want to see what inspires them to write the way they do.” You look back at your coffee. “I’m not the best at picking just one place.”

“Never said you had too.” Pepper says, trying to catch your eyes. “I think all three are wonderful ideas. Maybe we should go there, but leave Tony at home to finish the deadlines he never touches.” You look up at her with surprised eyes. “Ok, maybe he can finish them before the trips and then come along because if I steal his kid for that long, I’ll never hear the end of it. He might take my job away for stealing you for that long, if it didn’t mean he would have to start doing work again.”

“Really?”

“You’re all he talks about these days. And I don’t see that stopping anytime soon. He’s not someone that’s easy to get to know. And I would say he’s definitely an acquired taste, but once he’s in your corner, having Tony Stark have your back is sometimes greater than having Iron Man. I hope you get to learn that. Because I know he desperately wants to show you how much he already loves you.”

“But he barely knows me.”

“There’s this thing about being a parent, so I’ve heard, where you love your kid so much from the moment they enter your life. That’s how he feels, and how he’s felt about you since the moment he saw you for the first time. Every night since you entered his life he said to me ‘God Pep, I didn’t know I could love a kid so much.’ And I don’t see that stopping anytime soon.”

“But I’ve kind of treated him like garbage?”

“And you think you’re the first teenager to ever say things to their parents like that? You have a better excuse than most though. Most aren’t thrust into having parents as late into life as you were, but you’re dealing with a lot. Most people also aren’t dealing with having Tony as a father. I give you props for that alone.”

“You’re the one dating him.”

“Yes but that’s different.” Happy pulls up outside the coffee shop. “Come on. We have all the time in the world to debate who has it worse in regards to Tony.” Pepper teases you. You turn and wave to Marcie.

“Bye Marcie!”

“Good luck with the move!” She waves before returning to the order she’s in the middle of taking. You follow Pepper towards the car and climb into the backseat. Happy drives you towards the apartment he had taken-picked you up from less than a week from.

“Would you feel more comfortable if I stay in the car?” Pepper asks as you pull up and Happy puts the car in park. If it was Tony, yes. But you like Pepper. You want her to see the place that you think of as home so you shake your head.

“Plus I want you to meet my Nana and Pops.” You swing the door open before Happy even has a chance to open the door for you. You’re too excited to see Nana and Pops. Usually you would just run up the six flights of stairs to the apartment, but you’re not going to subject Pepper and Happy to that just because you don’t want to wait for the slow elevator. So instead you bounce on the balls of your feet as you wait for the elevator. If not for your fear of elevators dropping, you would have continued bouncing the rest of the way up. But finally, finally, the elevator arrives and you count the three doors as you pass towards home. It’s weird to not have your key so you knock on the door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” You hear your Pops voice and you could almost cry. He opens the door and you don’t wait a moment before flying into his arms. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He pulls you away to say something, probably like ‘there’s no way you’re my granddaughter. You’ve gotten too big,’ but you push against his arms to wrap your arms around him again. “I’m right here. Not going anywhere. I got you.”

“Who’s at the door Lou?” Your Nana calls and it sounds just like coming home now.

“It’s me Nana.” You say even though the sound is muffled by your Pops’ chest.

“Is that you babydoll? What are you doing here?” Your Nana rounds the corner and then you're out of your Pops’ arms and into her’s.

“We’re sorry to just surprise you. But we were in the area and Y/N has been missing you.”

“Never apologize for bringing her ho- to visit.” Your Pops voice is a little rougher than normal. “You must be Pepper Potts.”

“Yes, nice to meet you. And this is Happy, or um Harold Hogan, our head of security.” In the back of your mind you place the fact that Happy’s real name is Harold of all things, but right now you’re too focused on the fact that you’re home. “Y/N also needs to get a few more clothes and things so Happy has some boxes for her to put some stuff in.”

“That’s fine. She’s always welcome to come and get things. This may not be as fancy as where she lives now, but it will never stop being her home.” Pops voice rings out and Pepper can feel that he’s not welcoming them in like he welcomes you.

“Pepper, will you come help me get the stuff in my room?” You ask. You know Pops probably isn’t happy with the way things are working out either, but leaving Happy, he can at least go over the security plan or something. Leaving Pepper seems just mean after how nice she’s been to you today.

“Sure honey.” Pepper smiles at you. She follows you down the hallway to the door where your name is printed in block letters on a piece of computer paper. “I like this.”

“Thanks, Betty made it for me.” You pull it off the door. “Do you think I can hang it on my door at the Tower?” Pepper nods.

“If you want to, I don’t see why you can’t.” You open the door and Pepper follows you into the room that is about a quarter of the size of your room at the Tower, yet feels more at home than the Tower. “So what is coming with this time?” Pepper knows that at least with most of the books and if you want any of the furniture, they are going to have to get a few men to move it.

“I’m thinking mostly clothing and maybe some of my books. Not all of them, but at least a few of them. Oh and there’s a blanket I’ve been missing.” You walk over to the dresser in the corner and open the bottom two drawers, which are filled with mostly distressed jeans and shorts. “All of these.” You say with a laugh.

“How about I work on putting those in this box while you get the blanket and pick out some books?” Pepper suggests. You shrug, it sounds like a good enough plan. Walking over to your shelf, you have to stop yourself from calling out to JARVIS to ask him to put on music and instead pull your phone and put on your playlist instead. Have you really gotten that used to living at the tower? Before you can get to the shelf, you spy the quilt you want sticking out from the under bed boxes.

You pull it out and hold it close. Part of you wants to unwrap it and drape it around your shoulders, but you know that you’d be wasting precious time doing that. So instead you trace your fingers over the different triangles of fabric. Pepper looks up and sees what you’re looking at. “Is this the blanket you were missing?” You nod and she comes to take a seat next to you on the twin bed that you grew up in. “It’s beautiful. Was it handmade?” Pepper asks, but doesn’t make a move to touch it since it’s clearly special to you.

“My, uh, mom made it.” With everything that has happened in the last week, Pepper hasn’t actually heard anything about your mom besides Tony talking about how your mom was a one night stand. “She was in a recovery program the first three months after I was born to try and get her recovered. Alcohol and drugs. Part of her recovery was making this quilt. Something to focus on as she went through withdrawal. It’s part of the reason I was placed with my grandparents. I was born two and a half months early and addicted to crack. So she wasn’t that fit of a parent. But they hoped that with rehab she would get better and come home. It, um, didn’t work like they hoped. She relapsed and they found her on the streets six months later dead of an overdose.” You don’t look up as you trace your favorite triangle, the peach colored one. “This is the only thing I have of her. I’d like to think she made it for me, but I think I know deep down, she only made it because the program made her.”

“She would have been lucky to know you.” Pepper says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“But she didn’t so…” You trail off. “But I have Nana and Pops. And I have Tony now. And I guess you and the Avengers too.”

“You got bonus family galore.” Pepper holds you close. “I got you and I’m not letting go.” She whispers into your hair as she places a kiss there.

“Thanks Pepper.” You lean into her side, before placing the quilt into the box at your feet. “I’m glad you got me.” You admit.

It doesn’t take much longer to pack up the clothes and books you want from the room you love. There’s still other things you’ll need to come back for, but you can do that another day. You have the things you need to get you through at least the beginning of school. Before you know it, Happy is taking the boxes down to the car and you’re wrapped up in your grandparents’ arms once again. “You’re welcome anytime babygirl. You have your key for that reason.” Your Nana says into your hair.

“I know Nana.”

“And if you need a break, you come on over. Being Stark’s daughter isn’t the end all be all.” Pops’ voice is aimed more at Pepper than at you, but you nod.

“I know Pop.” You kiss both their cheeks. “I love you both. So much.”

“We love you too babygirl. Always have, always will.” Your Nana runs a hand through your hair. “Get going. You probably have big fancy plans for the day.”

“Still the same girl you know.” You say as you walk towards where Pepper stands. You follow her towards the door, but take one more look at your grandparents before you both start making your way downstairs. As you get outside, Pepper looks at you.

“Do you want to do more thrifting and mani/pedis or you want to call it a day? You still have next weekend? We can always do more back to school stuff then.”

“Do you mind if we don’t? I’m kind of exhausted.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I did. Plus we can order food to the Tower and maybe watch a movie or something instead. Calm night instead.”

“That sounds awesome.” You say as Happy starts the drive back to the Tower. Going back to Manhattan took a little longer than normal, just because of the time of day. You scroll through social media, trying to take in your last day as Y/N Y/L/N. Tomorrow the news breaks about you being Tony’s daughter, so you’ll take the calm before the storm. Pepper is reading over things on her own phone, probably SI stuff if you had to guess. “Pepper?”

“Mmm-hmm?” She answers as she scrolls.

“Will the explosion from the news tomorrow be bad?” You ask before adding. “Like you dealt with when Tony announced he was Iron Man. Will this be that bad you think?” Pepper puts down her phone and looks at you.

“I don’t think this will be bad news. I think there will be questions, but that’s why SI has been putting together a lot of press packets for different situations. If the press tries to spin it in different ways, we will be ready. The most important thing we have stated in all of this, is that while Tony didn’t know about you until recently, he is very happy to be your father and he is doing everything in his power to provide the best home for you.” Pepper pauses looking for signs from you on which way you were feeling. “For now, how you feel about everything is going to stay silent because of your age and such, but eventually, if you feel up for it, we’d love to publish something about you and your dad together.”

“Why about me?”

“Because the public will want to know, but also because you are one day possibly going to be a face of SI. If that’s the path you wish to take. Again this isn’t a decision you have to make anytime soon. Right now, the focus is keeping you out of the press as much as possible.” Happy pulls into the garage as Pepper says all of this. “But I think the public is just going to be interested in learning about who you are because you are an extension of Tony and they like knowing about him.”

“I can understand that. But I don’t even feel like I know him all that well yet.”

“You will in time. I promise.” Pepper says as she walks with you towards the elevator you had left only a few hours earlier. You had grabbed the clothes from Bayside, but Happy said he would get the boxes and take them to your room for you. Upon arriving to the living room, Tony is surprisingly waiting for you and Pepper.

“My two favorite ladies, back already.”

“Finished early. Figured we could do a night in instead.” Pepper explains as Tony gives her a kiss on the cheek.

“Did you have a good day kiddo?” Tony looks towards you and you nod before turning to Pepper.

“Thanks Pepper.” You say before giving her a quick hug. “I had a lot of fun today.”

“Of course. I had fun with you too.” Pepper’s arms wrap around you, squeezing you back. And for a moment you can’t help but wonder if this is what it feels like to have a mom. Yours was out of your life moments after you were born. You let yourself relax in her arms for a moment before you feel Tony’s eyes on the two of you.

“Uh, I should go put these things away.” You pull away from Pepper and make your way towards your room, canvas bags in tow without saying anything to Tony.

“It’s not fair Pep.”

“What?”

“She hugs you.” Tony whines as he plops down on the couch. “All she does for me is make playlists called Tony Stark Can Rot. How is that fair?”

“Now how would you know what her playlists are called?”

“I asked JARVIS to play some of her music so I could know more about her since she refuses to hang out with me. He asked which playlist and started listing them. To be fair it has some great music on it. But still, I would never make a playlist called Y/N Stark Can Rot.”

“You don’t name your playlists.” Pepper points out.

“Not the point.”

“The point is you're jealous that she’s closing herself off to you.”

“Maybe I am. She’s my kid. I want to know her. I want to do everything for her and with her. But everything I try backfires.”

“So don’t try so hard.” Tony’s brows pull together as he looks up at Pepper. “You suggested her friends coming over for dinner and that worked really well.”

“Yeah worked really well in that she told me about a teacher that hated her enough to throw scissors at her.”

“She also acknowledged that you’re going to be here for her from now on. That’s a success. So try doing small things like that. Don’t make huge gestures. Don’t you dare buy her a gigantic bunny. Try to let her get to know you. And don’t try to buy your way into her life. She hates that.”

“You literally took her shopping today.”

“We went thrifting.”

“What? All of that needs to be washed immediately!” Tony starts freaking out.

“This right here?” Pepper motions towards him, “This is the kind of reaction that will push her farther away. She loves thrift shops. She told me and we went to her favorite ones to look for clothes. She opened up about her life before us Tony. That picture on your phone. That’s a moment she shared with Natasha. You need to give her a moment to open up to you.” Tony notices Happy walking by with a couple of boxes.

“What all did you buy her today?”

“We stopped by her grandparents’ house so she could pick up some more stuff. She mentioned she was getting low on some stuff.” Pepper motions towards what Happy is carrying. “She really misses them. I think we need to give her time to see them too.”

“I’m not keeping her from them.”

“I’m not saying you are. I’m saying I think we should schedule times so she doesn’t feel that way. Also I told her that SI would start a charity fund to fight the cost of insulin.”

“Not against that but why?”

“She was feeling really uncomfortable about how comfortable we all spend on a day to day, based on her background with money.” Pepper says, not really explaining.

“That tells me less than nothing.”

“It’s her story to share. You’ll have to wait until she wants to share it with you.” Pepper kisses his cheek. “But you have an amazing kid.”

“I know that. I just want to know her like all of you know her.” Tony says frustrated.

“Give her time.”

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years

Note

Sorry to bother you but are you still doing that song shuffle game? Then I have a number - 2 Thanks for your time <3

Not a bother in the slightest! I think I’ll always be open to shuffle prompts because it’s just a good creative exercise. Thank you!! This one got more than twice as long a little longer than the previous ones I’ve done for this game.

“Can I Sleep in Your Arms?” - Willie Nelson Left me lonely and cold and so weak/And I need someone’s arms to hold me/’Til I’m strong enough to get back on my feet

no hold to hold on you

“Peter,” May says gently, pushing his hair back from his face with a warm, comforting hand, “what can I do?”

He shakes his head.

“It’s ok.”

“I know this is hard,” his aunt presses. “Tony meant a lot to you.” Peter sniffs and wipes his nose with the back of his hand.

“Don’t get me started again,” he says with a wet laugh.

“Alright. I can put something stupid on TV and pretend not to see you crying at the other end of the couch,” she offers. “How would that be? You wanna get your PJs on?”

He’s touched by the way she’s babying him. Sometimes, it gets on his nerves, but under the circumstances, the overabundance of tenderness brings him back to the early days after Ben’s death and how careful he and May were with each other. Although they don’t share this loss in the same way they shared that one, it doesn’t negate her instinct to shelter him from the world.

“Nah,” Peter says with a deep sigh. “I don’t think I have the energy to get changed again.”

When they got home from the funeral, he took off his suit as quickly as possible, threw on a t-shirt and sweats. Everything soft and formless―the very opposite of the feel of the other kind of suit in his closet. The ones Mr. Stark made him. The one in particular that he was wearing when his friend and mentor died right in front of him. He squeezes his eyes shut for a minute and May rubs his back firmly, reminding him of her presence. No new tears escape. His eyes feel hot, his cheeks dry from all the tears he’s swiped away today.

“You wanna go spend some time with Ned? Maybe sleep over? I swear I won’t take it personally that you don’t feel like hanging out,” his aunt says with a sympathetic half-smile.

“Ned? Yeah, maybe.”

Peter hasn’t even thought of Ned today, which is weird. Under completely different circumstances, Ned would’ve loved being by his side, meeting all those Avengers. Peter could’ve downplayed it as no big deal and watched his best friend’s eyes light up, and Mr. Stark would’ve acted all― His shoulders droop. So maybe it’s good he doesn’t have any memories of Ned and Tony side by side. Ned’s a separate part of his life that Peter can retreat into right now.

“Yeah? You let me know if you don’t stay overnight, or if you want me to come get you, or―”

“May,” he reminds her quietly, “I can get home by myself.”

“I know that. I know. I know you can.” Her mouth turns down and her nostrils twitch, but she’s as good at holding back tears as he is. Probably better. She runs a hand across his shoulders, then lets him stand.

Peter collects his phone and keys, slips his shoes on, flips his hood up. May’s waiting at the door of their apartment.

“Don’t do anything tonight,” she says. He frowns. She looks down, almost guiltily. “I know you feel compelled to help people, but if you could just… just get from point A to point B without getting mixed up in anything…”

“Ok,” he promises, because she doesn’t need that worry right now. He can make sure he doesn’t end up under a truck or in front of a knife or inside a bank that’s being robbed for one night.

“Thank you.”

“Love you, May,” Peter says, hugging her almost as hard as she hugs him.

“Alright. Say hi to Ned for him.”

He turns so she doesn’t have to hold that smile on her face too long for his benefit.

Outside, the world is dark and empty, so he should stick to well-worn paths. But he doesn’t end up at Ned’s. He ends up at MJ’s. She had a few members of the decathlon team over for an extra prep session before a competition one evening, then another time, Ned and Peter did a movie night with her. It was mostly Ned’s doing. He said they should get to know their new captain better and Peter felt nervous and awkward about it, but it turned out fine.

The ease with which he can pull her address up in his mind doesn’t explain his unconscious decision to arrive at her building. Since Peter’s here, he sends her a text. She lets him in.

“Quiet,” he says when he’s come up and she’s locking them inside her apartment.

“My parents are in Philly, visiting my aunt.”

Unlike normal, MJ doesn’t bombard him with questions or stare him down with suspicious eyes. Thank god. He’s tired. Immortally tired. Something old and soft plays from the other room. He could hear the song’s lyrics if he focused, but he tunes into the beat of MJ’s heart instead. Somehow, it’s even more soothing.

“Come and sit down,” she says.

Peter follows her to the couch, far less familiar than the one he sat on with May. Still, he associates the darkness of the room and the comfort of his seat with being taken care of. He wrings his hands.

“Sorry for just showing up,” he tells the carpet between his socked feet.

“It’s ok.”

“We buried Tony today.”

“Oh.”

He doesn’t know he’s crying until MJ’s arms wrap around his shoulders in a tentative hug. Shameless, Peter twists and presses his face against her neck, weeping into her skin. She hugs him tighter, bringing one leg up onto the couch to make it easier to hold him close. His hands scrabble at the back of her long-sleeved shirt. Over ugly moans, he catches the sound of her sweetly shushing him as her fingers rake through the back of his hair and pet his neck.

“It’s ok, it’s gonna be ok. It’ll be ok, Peter. Today’s the hardest day. It’s alright. Get it out. Or you don’t have to think about it if you don’t want to. But if you do, that’s good. No, don’t be embarrassed. It’s ok, you’re alright. I’ve got you. I know. It’s ok that it’s hard. Are you thinking about your uncle? Of course I know about that. Shhh. It’s ok. It just means you cared about Stark. I bet you were really important to him too. Everything’s gonna be alright. It’s over now. All the bad stuff is behind you, Peter. You’re ok. I’m here.”

Her words go on and on. Peter doesn’t know for how long, except that it’s almost as long as he cries. MJ holds him together so he can’t break apart while he feels all of this. Hiccupping with stress and sadness and embarrassment, he tries to apologize, but she just shushes him some more. When the tears finally slow, he looks at her. Quickly, she’s up from the couch, getting him a drink and dragging a blanket over his shoulders on her way back.

“You’ll give yourself a headache,” she says, shrugging off the plain kindness of a glass of water. “Crying always gives me a headache.”

“What do you cry about?”

What a dumb way to make conversation, Peter thinks. Morbid and too personal. Sipping his water, he’s confused to see his question make MJ blush and dart her eyes away from his.

“Dumb stuff.”

“I don’t think anything you could think about would be dumb.”

“Thanks, Peter,” she says, looking surprised. “It’s just, you know, crying over things I don’t have.”

“I hope you get those things.”

She gives him a funny look, but it’s gone by the time he takes a tissue from the box she’s placed at his feet and blows his nose.

“I think about him everywhere,” Peter groans in frustration. See how sheer annoyance works at keeping the misery down. MJ hums like she’s agreeing with him, then stops abruptly. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “I can’t believe I just came over and―”

“It’s seriously ok. I mean it. Let’s not do that asinine adult thing where social etiquette demands that we go back and forth without actually asserting our needs,” she rants, pulling her knee up to her chest and gripping it with both hands. “Be here, be sad, and stop worrying about it.”

It’s amazing to him how much softer MJ is one-on-one. Still assertive to the point of occasional curtness, but unexpectedly attentive. He hopes she doesn’t cry often. He hopes consoling others is something she’s naturally good at, not because she’s had a lot of practice. Nobody deserves a life full of grief.

Peter splashes water in his face in the bathroom and means to tell her he’s gonna go. He’s worn himself out with crying. Instead, he sits back down on the couch. She was looking up at him. He doesn’t want to go yet. May thinks he’ll be at Ned’s all night. Like she knows his aunt’s plan from earlier, MJ puts the TV on in the background. What she doesn’t do is flee to the opposite end of the couch. She stays near him, looking straight ahead to give him privacy because she is apparently a deeply decent person.

He follows up the mystery of how he ended up here rather than at Ned’s with the mystery of how he and MJ are sitting apart one minute and have their arms touching the next. They go from that to her hand slipping into his. (Her heart speeds up―wait, does she care about him as more than a friend?)

From that to his head dropping sideways onto her shoulder.

To MJ’s cheek against the top of his head.

To sleep.

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#my writing #spideychelle #spideychelle fic #spideychelle fanfiction #peter parker #peter x mj #peter x michelle #peter parker x michelle jones #michelle jones

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years

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young starker growing up together - maybe their first kiss?

ask prompts

young starker - a fumbly first kiss

~5.8k words

It all started in eighth grade. Tony Stark had always been the freaky genius kid. It didn’t take long for the school system to realize that the boy would do nothing but cause trouble anywhere but with people that were close to his mental abilities. At seven, it felt almost neglectful to throw him into the high school crowd – so Tony joined the ranks of eighth graders after a summer spent at space camp.

He didn’t realize the big deal until he walked into the front doors of the school – this one a little different than the private school he’d been in before. He immediately felt like a shrimp in the bunch and it was obvious that everyone else noticed it, too. The cosmic joke of the day is the top shelf locker – one he has to stand on his very tiptoes to reach. The slam of the damn thing was insanely satisfying, though he didn’t dump his backpack in there like he originally planned. Oh well – what was another thing to carry around? Maybe he could use it as protection when the inevitable bullying came his way.

With the paper schedule clutched between his fingers, Tony walked into his homeroom class – all eyes in the room trained on him. He’d been taught to keep his head held high – his intelligence wasn’t a burden – Tony looked around the room at all the people staring him and immediately noticed a kid that looked almost as small as he was. The boy was amongst the group staring at him – but the look didn’t say disdain, instead, it seemed like he’d finally run into someone that just might be his equal. The only seat was in the corner of the room, a spot that would make seeing the board hard and observing the interesting kid even harder. There wasn’t much time to dwell, though. They immediately started into Algebra II and Tony ducked his head down, completely absorbed in the numbers running through his head.

At lunch, Tony almost chickened out and spent the time spread out on one of the benches he passed on his way into the building earlier that day. The math homework was already done in his backpack, but there were plenty of chapters for him to look over. A thought had him stopping, however – those big doe eyes of the only person Tony saw the entire day that looked remotely close to his age intriguing him. Maybe the lunchroom would be a good place to spot him again.

Reluctantly, Tony steered himself towards where the majority of the classmates he recognized were heading. There wouldn’t be any room at any of the cool tables for Tony – he already knew that. People didn’t like to be outsmarted by someone so young, especially, he found, people that were uncertain of their own intelligence – like most teenagers he was surrounded by. Steeling himself to be the main topic of people’s stares once again, Tony walked into the lunchroom.

Spotting an empty table, Tony took himself to it. It was closer to the back – which meant it probably didn’t attract the people who wanted to be front and center. Maybe, just maybe, he’d picked where that boy sat. A peanut butter sandwich Tony packed himself joined the Sherlock Holmes novel on the table – the boy a master at fading into the background now that he knew how precious anonymity actually was. He was so good in fact, he jumped with surprise when the clatter of a lunch tray sounded next to him. Tony forced his glasses covered eyes up from the page – Watson’s latest quip on hold for a moment. Brown eyes widened when he recognized the messy curls and round nose from class that morning.

“You’re the only other young person like me I’ve ever seen here,” the boy said, his fingers already working on opening the chocolate milk carton all the way – the chicken nuggets on his plate immediately getting dropped in.

“I am?” Tony asked, his eyes pinching slightly at the corners, his tongue sticking out. “Did you just put chicken nuggets in chocolate milk?” Tony felt exasperated, his stomach and heart in a frenzy. The boy shrugged and shook the carton up.

“You are. I’m Peter Parker. They said it was weird that a seven-year-old was in eighth grade. So, when I saw you, I figured maybe it’s not so weird after all. And yes – it is chicken nuggets in milk. It’s delicious. You can’t knock it until you try it. Who are you, anyway? How’d you end up here?” Peter – the nameless boy from earlier now affectionately labeled Peter – said without pause, his focus split between the conversation and the chocolate milk-soaked nuggets. The boy spooned one out and placed it on the empty bag that used to house Tony’s sandwich.

Tony eyed the thing for a second before quickly taking a large bite. He figured it would be gross – but then the combined sweet and salty hit his taste buds and he grinned. “That is really good. Gross to look at, but tasty. I’m Tony Stark. I ended up here because I was bored in the school I used to go to. I was getting into too much trouble. I need more – stimulus or something. I guess a room full of teenagers is the perfect amount.” Tony shrugged and finished off the weird chicken nugget, his eyes on Peter.

He hadn’t met anyone so forward before, especially someone that was his own age. “Should we be friends?” Tony asked seriously, his shoulder bumping into the boy next to him. “I used to get beat up a lot at my old school. We could protect each other, or become a tag team.” Tony didn’t really understand the connection he was making in that moment – didn’t quite get that they were creating a lifelong and unbreakable bond. Neither boy did, how could they? How many lunchroom pacts actually manifested into literal lifetimes together?

The boy’s smile widened when Peter nodded his head and looked at him seriously. “Yes, we should. You’re totally right. Sherlock had Watson after all,” Peter replied, his fingers tapping on the cover of Tony’s book. He was smart and knew about Alfred Conan Doyle? He was sure, probably for the first time ever, he’d never met another person like this boy. Tony nodded and held his hand out between them – he remembered his father saying that a deal wasn’t done until there’d been a handshake.

It was satisfying to feel the slightly sticky hand in his own – Tony’s first official friend and fellow comrade. Strength was always greater in numbers – his father told him that, too. Although the man seemed to like to spend more time by himself than with others, Tony figured he had to be right – the instant amount of comfort having Peter agree to be his friend had to mean something.

They spent the rest of that lunch period sharing soggy chicken nuggets and talking about A Study in Scarlett. Tony devoured each of the stories and was making his way what felt like the hundredth time through the book. By then, no one around him wanted to hear him talk about it anymore. Peter did, though – and their conversations easily transitioned into playdates where they’d try to reenact some of the cases. Tony didn’t mind playing Watson, either – which seemed like something he thought he’d never do. When he read the books, he always thought he’d be Sherlock. Yet, when Pete led their investigations, it was just as fun to be the pretend brute force that kept the genius safe. He figured Peter looked better in the old-timey hat, anyway.

Those playdates easily became sleepovers. Late nights together were filled with way too much sugar and hours upon hours of video games – the two staying up so late most weekends that the emptiness of the house on Sundays for Tony was a relief. He got to sleep after Peter’s Aunt May came to pick him up – and then they’d start the cycle all over again. They were quickly getting lost in the magic of online gaming on the state-of-the-art systems Tony’s dad bought when he first heard about his son having a friend over.

The novel concept of online was quickly starting to catch on – and Peter and Tony were avid partakers of it. Most of the time, having a dad that owned a company that was constantly in the news and being talked about for this and that was a little exhausting – but the strength of the internet and the access to all the components of the games they were playing was a definite bonus. Especially when Peter smiled at him while they were playing. A strange feeling settled in the pit of Tony’s stomach every time that happened.

By the end of the year, Peter and Tony were inseparable. When Tony turned eight right before they went into high school together, he and Peter went to Disneyland with the Stark family. He hadn’t been into Disney movies much growing up – they weren’t really anything that interested him. Without explosions or cool cars or really awesome weapons, it was hard to keep Tony’s attention – but Buzz Lightyear in person was pretty hard to not be impressed by. Especially when he took a picture with him and Peter with their arms flexed like strong men – he and his best friend had both puffed up their chests and let out a guttural cry.

Their smiles stayed huge the rest of that day – the two of them playing the horse racing carnival game until they each won one of the little robot stuffed animals. Jeff and Charles (or more affectionately known as Chuck, Tony’s pal couldn’t be *that* stuffy), their newly won friends, rode the rest of the rides with them and when they were sleepily carried back to the hotel, they were nestled safely in the depths of Maria Starks big purse.

Tony kept the robot and a copy of the Buzz Lightyear picture by his bed at night, immediately putting them there when they got home. Any time he got a little scared or couldn’t sleep because there was too much in his head, he’d look over and remember the day they spent wrapped up in the joy of being in the middle of space with a hero – even a made up one.

The next few sleepovers they had after they got back were filled with as many Disney movies as they could get their hands on. Tony’s dad laughed when Tony requested the use of a VCR – but he granted it with ease and watched with a keen sense of interest as the two boys devoured all the classics – Snow White and Sleeping Beauty included. Their play time moved from strictly robots and war planes to include some of the aspects of the great movie plots they watched. Tony wouldn’t admit it, but he liked when Peter played Prince Charming – his friend was perfect for the part, and though Tony didn’t have Cinderella’s life, he never minded playing her. The soft kiss on the cheek Peter took to giving him when he eventually matched Tony’s Nike to his foot was always worth it.

School starting again didn’t feel nearly as daunting for Tony – this year, he’d be entering into it with a buddy by his side – a buddy that was taking all of the same classes as him, a buddy that would be a perfect lab partner and the best person to navigate the high school hallways with. The strange looks they both received when they walked in together were a little easier to handle when Tony could look over his shoulder and see Peter attempting to keep his head held high – maybe if they stuck together, they’d make it out alive.

Tony never felt intimidated outside of the school’s walls – out in the open, people could appreciate intelligence like Tony and Peter both had. After getting back from vacation, Tony’s dad even let them spend time in the Stark Industries labs where they helped a couple of the technicians finish a project they were working on. Those guys seemed to be really impressed by how quickly they worked through the problem – why couldn’t the rest of the world?

Either way, Tony felt more prepared this time around. Though he’d still be the youngest person in their class, the concreteness of Peter’s presence made him feel bigger and stronger than any of the people that might give either of them a hard time.

If Buzz Lightyear approved of them, did anyone else really matter?

----

Things started to change right around the end of high school. For most humans, entering into the adult world happened when a person was an actual adult – but for Tony and thankfully Peter, they were entering into the next step of the world before turning 13. The high school experience was much like the rest of school – pretty boring, quite the time suck, and a little on the terrible side. Tony didn’t spend a lot of time on the receiving end of things that were terrible – he learned early that using his fists was a good way to get people to back down.

Even if the guys were bigger than him, Tony found a way to make sure he was understood. No, most of the terrible stuff happened to Pete and although Tony could throw his fists around for himself, he’d been banned from doing it to protect his best friend. Getting into MIT was the dream and had been since they started high school all that time ago. They already threatened to take back Tony’s acceptance if he had anymore behavioral problems and Peter made it pretty clear that he’d be pretty pissed if he got himself kicked out of MIT before they even got there.

So, Tony did what he could without the use of his fists. Anytime Flash would corner Peter in the hall and start to call him ‘Penis Parker’, Tony swooped in and slipped his arm through Pete’s – the contact with the boy never failed to make him happy, either. “Peter, dear – I think we’re scheduled to blow something up. Shall we?” Tony would joke and Peter always pulled his hand in a little tighter against him. Taking off in the other direction always threw Flash right off. The older boy would taunt and tease until they were out of sight and then they’d take off running down the hall – both boys laughing, the adrenaline of outsmarting someone once again fueling their fire.

Tony’s actions never stopped Peter from getting picked on – he figured he’d have to fix the problem the old Tony Stark way for that to happen. But – Peter always smiled at him gratefully. If only that smile could cure all the things, Tony wouldn’t have to worry about Peter’s safety or how much he wanted Peter to let him take care of it for him. It’d be so easy. No matter how much he wanted to, though – Tony respected Peter. They’d been friends now for what practically felt like their whole lives, he owed him at least that.

One particular event later in their senior year hit the shuffle button on their relationship and fixed the course of where they were going in life together. Up until the mention of prom, Tony hadn’t really thought about feelings. Most kids his age were just stepping into the stage of development where hormones were running rampant – they were set up in a place where exploring those hormones was expected, if not encouraged. Being so young, Tony never paid any of the couples attention in the halls. Sometimes, he and Peter would go down the rows of lockers they knew people were making out against just to point and laugh (because they were pre-teens, after all.)

So, he’d never given much thought to why all of the people around him were always crazed out of their minds, desperate to get their hands on another human being. Until, of course – he saw Peter’s eyes light up across the table from him. For a while, that look gave him the weirdest feeling in the pit of his stomach and he didn’t really understand it. He complained to his mom about it a couple of times – she merely brushed it off as a stomachache and sent him on his way.

Looking over his shoulder to where Peter’s eyes were focused, he understood the feeling a little more. Two guys, the only out couple in their school, were wrapped up in a hug together – one of them, Steve Rogers, was holding a huge balloon and the cheesiest sign Tony figured he’d ever seen. The public prom proposal – a high school cliché. Yet, he felt himself smiling widely, too. Their embrace looked warm from where Tony sat, and their faces depicted so much happiness. That warm feeling in the pit of his stomach came back – his entire core on fire now, not just the middle of it.

Turning back towards Peter, he knocked his hand against the other’s. “They look good together, don’t they?” Tony posed the question casually – though he felt that heat in his insides start to clench, like the answer to this question would be the difference between a complete take over or a total system shut down. Peter’s smile made his toes curl in his shoes – what in the actual heck was happening? And the touch against his arm? He might’ve melted right then and there.

“Yeah, they do. Prom looks like it might be fun, too.”

Their eyes met then, and something clicked. Tony sucked in a breath like he’d been knocked on his ass and blinked quickly. “I think so, too.”

And that’s when Tony started to plan.

He still didn’t really understand what the heat he felt every time he looked at Peter meant. They’d been friends since eighth grade and spent most of the days since then together in some way, shape, or form. Getting to spend time with Peter made him happy and when they weren’t together, he anticipated the next time they were. He thought, because that’s what people always called them, that’s what being best friends felt like.

For some reason, though – he couldn’t get the thought of pulling Peter into a hug like Steve and Bucky’s out of his head. They’d given each other tons of hugs before – he’d been there when Peter broke his wrist and cried the entire walk home – Tony hugged him and kept him close the whole time. It didn’t make sense, but – there was a difference. Tony could feel it in his very bones and there weren’t many times his instincts weren’t right. The rotary tool on the front of their robot the previous year had won them the gold at National’s, after all.

Being confused didn’t stop Tony from plotting, though. He used the freedom of having parents that were never around to go through his dad’s lab and collect the necessary tools for his idea. He spent most of his study hall period putting together a rough drawing of the puzzle he was going to build – so the preliminary steps were easy. Over the years, Tony picked up many skills with the welding torch – the puzzle’s manufacturing wasn’t too complicated once he got the pieces put together. He ran into a hitch when one of the pieces wouldn’t open like the rest of them – but he quickly caught the issue in the math and fixed the problem.

The finished product sat before him a few hours after he sat down to put it together, the light from the daytime completely gone – he’d worked the whole day away. Sitting down for the first time in a while, Tony picked up the cube – his eyes roaming over it critically. His confidence in Peter’s intelligence made choosing something like this perfect and he couldn’t wait to see what the other made of it. Tony didn’t really know what this would mean for them, but he liked the way it felt.

It took him a couple of days to work up the courage to break into Peter’s locker and put the cube where he could find it. The first day, he over thought it and almost took the cube apart completely. The next day, he put it in his backpack – and never found an opportune time to actually take it out or do anything productive with it. The turning point came when his mom found him slumped over his porcelain bowl filled with cold Spaghetti-o’s. “Amore, what are you doing?” Maria said, the words startling Tony from his reverie.

He must’ve been sitting there much longer than he figured – his mother didn’t normally get home until well into the evening. The spoon in his hand clattered against the bowl as he turned, his brows creased. “How do you know if something is right, ma? There’s something I want to do, but I can’t decide if I should or not.” The words were out before he could take them back, his face immediately turning red with embarrassment. Did other kids have conversations like this with their mothers? Biting down on his lip, Tony grabbed the spoon again – the metal of it now completely covered in the orangey-red sauce.

“Does it feel right, bambino? If it does, that’s your first clue. You want to do it, so there’s another check off the list. Tony, the fact that you’re so worried about it probably says the most about how right it really is. Take a deep breath and really think. You’ll always do the right thing that way.” She leaned against the counter next to him while she spoke, her critical eyes watching him. For such a smart boy, there was still so much to learn.

Tony met her look for a second and then nodded – his hands pushing him away from the counter before his brain to mouth filter broke down once again. “Thanks, ma. I think that helps.” Before running away, he pressed a kiss to the side of her cheek. Of the two of his parents, Tony could see his mom try the most, so he let her in every now and again. He waited until he was far enough away from the kitchen not to be caught before he let a huge smile slip across his face. Her advice really was helpful after all.

The next day, Tony had Phil drop him off a few minutes earlier than usually. Luckily, Peter’s Aunt May was working the later shift and could take Peter to school – or else his plan would have been a little harder to execute. The need to break into Pete’s locker was moot, they’d been the sole guardian of each other’s lock combinations since they first walked down the Wal Mart aisles and picked them out. He spun the dial in the intricate pattern and let out a little noise of joy when it clicked open – the simple fact that Peter still trusted him was enough to make his decision feel a million times righter.

Placing the cube on the shelf right in Peter’s line of vision, Tony quickly shut it – if he looked at the thing for too long, he might reach back in and pull it out. As fast as the lock was opened, it was once again in place – waiting for Peter to open it himself and find the little prize inside. Sucking in a breath, Tony forced himself to turn and walk the other direction down the hall. He figured Peter would find him in the library like always when he got in for the day.

The door opened not even ten minutes later, and a flustered Peter Parker walked in. “I hate riding in with May, Tony. She’s always running late and makes me eat those super nasty bran muffins. Also, did you put this in my locker?” Peter asked breathlessly, the cube held tightly in his hand. He’d already started working on one of the four side panels – each would open to show the elaborate design he’d etched into the metal. Tony looked up and blinked behind his glasses – the slightly scattered look on his friend making that heat come back, this time with a vengeance.

It felt like a straight punch to the gut and he found himself smiling through it – the wild greatness of it something Tony wanted to get used to. “I told you that Phil and I were in the neighborhood. You know how much riding in with May means to her, though. She’s always complaining about how much she’s working and never getting to see you. And yes, yes, I did. You’ve got to solve all of the puzzles to get it open.” Tony’s smile stretched further, his words making a mischievous look flit through Peter’s eyes.

By lunch time, Tony was bouncing his leg nervously. He made each of the puzzles just hard enough to keep Peter on his toes – and he figured the other would be done with each by now. The small glimpses he could see of the boy across the room made his heart flutter a bit – Peter was hard at work on the second side, a tongue hanging out the edge of his mouth. Their last class right before lunch was the only one they didn’t have together – so Tony was feeling a little antsy. He even stood in the line to buy a gross school lunch to pass the time. They were serving chicken nuggets, though – so he couldn’t be too mad about it. Grabbing an extra chocolate milk for Pete, Tony made his way towards the table they’d been sitting at together for ages – their corner spot always left for them. No one wanted to sit with the weirdo geniuses, anyway. A smile slipped across his face when he looked up on his way over and saw Peter sitting in his normal spot, a Nutella and peanut butter sandwich already securely in his hand.

“Hey Petey,” Tony said in greeting. The other boy looked up at him and grinned, that same look of mischief on his face from before.

“Hey, Tones. You were pretty clever with that last one. I didn’t get that I needed to press up with the one I solved before to get the final piece to fit. Ms. Russo almost caught me.” Peter’s words were coming a mile a minute, his glasses moving down his nose every time he moved a hand while he spoke.

Without thought, Tony reached over and pushed them back up Pete’s nose. Whatever was on the boy’s tongue quickly faded away and they were suddenly staring right at each other.

There were a few seconds where they simply looked, Tony’s eyes were roaming all over Pete’s face – the boy desperate to understand what in the actual fuck was happening. Another heartbeat thumped against Tony’s chest, the pulse like the ticking of a clock. “Do you want to?” Tony finally spoke out, his eyes breaking away from Peter’s to glance down at the open cube – the panels each had a couple parts of ‘will you go to prom with me?’ on them, each with a different design he etched into the metal to make the whole thing a cohesive, kind of abstract piece of nerdy art.

Peter picked up the solve puzzle and ran his fingertips gently over it – the touch like one would place upon a small puppy or something that was fragile. That smile that sent warm trails of heat into his core lit up Peter’s face and then the boy was nodding – his cheeks a pink Tony only ever saw when they were in gym class or playing space aliens throughout the SI labs.

“Yeah, I do. I really do. People will probably think it’s weird that we’re there, but I couldn’t imagine going with anyone else. Do you think we could find suits like the ones in Dumb and Dumber?” Tony didn’t try to stop the snort of laughter that bubbled up from his chest – the thought of a powder blue top hat on Peter’s head making his heart ache with that warmth. How the hell could he say no to that?

“That’ll be the way to be remembered. I’m in. I bet we can get Maria to take us to the tailor. I bet Francisco would have a blast putting those together.”

And when they took pictures together in their powder blue and bright orange tuxedos, Tony couldn’t help but smile his biggest smile. Peter looked ridiculous and totally awesome – he’d let his hair grow a little bit, so it pressed down and curled under the brim of the hat. Together, they looked insane and completely perfect to represent who they’d been throughout their years in high school. The weird kids – the ones that were always together, the ones that no one understood and probably never would. His mom sent him a shot she took on her phone while they lounged in the back of the limo – the sight made him wrap an arm around Peter and shove the phone between them.

“Do we look good, or what?” Tony asked, his stomach filled to the brim with pressure and heat and the slightest bit of pain from laughing too much. They were back to back, each with a cane in their hand. Their heads were turned towards each other – both boys smiling. Tony could see the brightness in his own eyes, his pupils blown wide from excitement. What surprised him, though, was the same brightness in Pete’s eyes. It was like maybe – well, maybe he wasn’t the only one constantly sitting with a pool of heat in his belly.

The rest of the night together went in typical Peter and Tony fashion. They fucked around with the canes and photo bombed a few too many pictures before settling down and grabbing some punch. Tony took the top hat from his head and wiped at his brow – the thing was cool, but so, so hot. His hair was matted down a little bit and for the first time in probably ever, he worried about whether Peter would mind. Shaking his head, Tony forced himself to focus and downed the punch the other boy handed him.

“Did you see how mad Natasha looked? I hope Clint will send me a copy of the end result of that,” Peter muttered, the noticeable shine in his eye still there, brighter than ever. Tony felt himself laugh; his cheeks irritated from being stuck in a smile for so long.

“I bet I can get them if he doesn’t. You know as well as I do that the school’s server isn’t very secure. I think we’re lucky we didn’t get our asses kicked, though. Bruce looked like he wanted to punch you in the face but also like he wanted to laugh his ass off.” They were leaned against each other, Peter’s random wandering leading them to the edge of the dance floor into their usual corner.

Of course, the second they started to relax, a slow song started to play. They’d abandoned hats and canes in the corner with their punch glasses and were stupidly dancing to all of the dumb pop songs. Tony couldn’t remember the last time he watched Peter move in any other way than gracefully. He didn’t talk about it much, but Tony knew Peter took dance lessons once a week. A Christmas tradition in the Stark household included watching Peter in The Nutcracker and eating hibachi afterwards to celebrate. Peter looked seamless when he moved, even the choppy way he was slinging his shoulders here and there looked good.

And that’s when it hit him – what the feeling he’d been troubling over actually meant. Peter looked good. He made Tony’s heart race. Tony always felt better in Peter’s presence. All of the sudden, he wanted to lean forward and press his lips against his best friend’s. Tony liked Peter. In the purest of ways, Tony wanted Peter. And, like the stupid person he was, Tony let that sudden realization run straight from his brain out into the open air between them. “I like you, Peter. I really, really like you,” Tony’s voice was a little loud to be heard over the music – but he felt like he shouted those words, like everyone now knew his secret.

Blushing, Tony brought a hand to his forehead and let his fingers run through the sweaty hair there. “I mean – I “ Tony tried to stumble into some sort of explanation, but it was unneeded.

Peter grabbed the wrist of the hand currently trying to pluck all the hairs out of the front of Tony’s head and held it tightly in his own. “I like you, too. You made me a puzzle. You asked me to prom. I figured it out, Tony. I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t like you, too. You’re my best friend – I’m not going to screw that up.”

Tony’s sweaty palm couldn’t have been comfortable to hold, but Peter didn’t let it go and after a minute or two – Tony nodded, his smile returning. “Want to dance with me, then? I’ll probably step on your toes, though.”

Peter didn’t answer, he simply pulled Tony’s hands to his waist. “This one is easy, you just kind of shuffle. And hold me close. Don’t forget to do that,” Peter mumbled, his own smaller arms reaching up to wrap around Tony’s neck. They probably looked ridiculous, the insanity of Dumb and Dumber, of young pre-teens in a crowd of soon to be adults – hell, their entire existence was a little ridiculous.

Before the song shifted, Tony leaned forward and let his forehead rest against Peter’s. For now, they were right around the same height – so Peter’s breath brushed against his nose. It smelt like fruit punch and chocolate, a combination of things that were distinctly Peter. The natural way they fell into their first kiss made them both jump back in surprise – Tony’s eyes were wide, and Peter looked comically taken aback. Watching Peter reach up and touch his lip was enough to make it real, though. “Wow,” he mumbled softly, eyes still firmly watching Peter and the many reactions manifesting themselves so prettily.

When they came out of the gym later hand-in-hand, May didn’t say a thing. Tony caught her smiling to herself in the mirror and felt that warmth in his core blossom a little bit. Maybe there was more to that feeling than he first thought.

#starker #peter parker/tony stark #tony stark/peter parker #tony #peter #ironspider #ask prompts #asks #answered #bobbie writes #Anonymous

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friday-ocean · 5 years

Text

Fortuna Calling

Summary: An evening poker game in the Stark Tower seems like a great idea. Unfortunately, the invited guests are anything but exciting. This gives you the opportunity to play with a small, exclusive group. But this time your concentration seems to let you down. Will there be a way to make up for your loss? Pairing: Bucky & Reader Warning: alcohol, SMUT (+ 18) Author‘s Note: For @buckysthot writing challenge. All the best for your birthday and milestone! Prompt: „Don’t worry, you’ll pay. I’ll make sure of it.” Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~

With sluggish eyes you watch the little boys sitting in front of the gaming tables. All right. "Little" and "boys" may not be quite right. Many of the players are much older than you are. Grey strands of hair are running through her back combed hair, first bald spots are covered, and her eyes are undermined by deep shadows. And yet, they are children. Little children who have discovered a new game for themselves. Each newly revealed card elicits a reaction from them, their gaze racing restlessly across the entire table, the precious whiskey and old scotch in their glasses long forgotten. Every loss or gain of a few dollars is loudly commented on and every card analysed as in a crude science.

You lift the whiskey glass to your red lips, but to your disappointment you notice that the glass is empty. With your lips peeled, you put it back on the marble counter. That was already your third drink. Your absolute maximum at events like this. Should it have been? Little kids and empty whiskey glasses? How disappointing.

The empty bar stool next to you is moved and curiously you look over, away from the children playing. Falcon, Captain America and his best friend himself lean against the bar next to you. Not surprisingly, Tony Stark meets his team members and close friends at a party. But, meeting these famous men doesn't leave you cold.

You cross your legs. Your white High-Waist-Rock with the filigree embroideries slips a tiny bit higher, accentuates your thighs and long legs. Like true gentlemen, the three men seem to pay no attention to your figure. But you didn't miss how all three had almost unanimously shifted their weight from one leg to the other.

Suddenly you feel like playing. That would be the right antidote to your boredom. Elegantly you lean back in your bar stool, your sulking lips escape a clearly audible sigh as your gaze "accidentally" glides across the room. As if on cue, Falcon, better known as Sam, turns to you. His broad grin is an enchanting contrast to the stony expression of Winter Soldier.

"Well? Already all your chips gambled away?" With a small, innocent smile you turn to the men: "No, not really. At all these tables I'm not really..." You make a throw away hand movement towards the tables and look at Sam disappointed. "And I was really looking forward to this evening." Like a little child you push out your lower lip. "Understandable", Captain America himself seems to want to get into the game. He puts his empty glass on the counter and examines the tables.

"What do you think of it when we retire?" Sam attracts his two best friends and grins at you broadly. "Together with you, Wanda, Natasha, Bruce and Rhodey, we could have more fun. “ The small group decides to meet in a private room. Tony has always reserved one or two rooms for particularly ambitious or shy players. Rumour has it that these rooms were used for very special "games" before Pepper stepped into Tony's life. But they are only vague rumours. Their truth lies only a short distance above the rumour that Tony is the evil twin who imprisoned the good guy in a deep dungeon. They may be very entertaining, but that's all they are.

In the middle of the room there is a large round table, warm light illuminates the room and a small bar fulfils all wishes. A man you identify as Clint Barton, also known as Hawkeye, hands you a whiskey and you take the place between Steve and the lovely Wanda. Sam, Clint and Bucky also sit at the table. Rhodey, Natasha, Maria and Bruce decide to watch for the time being.

During the first rounds you hold back with your game. It's far too interesting to watch the others play. Steve next to you is a rather calm and cautious player. He avoids big risks and you can decipher his poker face in just a few minutes. It's reassuring to know that the great Captain America is indeed the exemplary person he always pretends to be. Boring to know he won't make the game any more interesting.

Sam and Clint deal with everything except the cards on the table. Lots of stupid sayings, even more whiskey and loud laughter. It costs you a lot of restraint not to let them empty their pants directly. Wanda on your right doesn't seem to be playing very long. She thinks longer, weighs and keeps her eyes on the cards. Yet she is a dangerous player. Her poker face is cool and the first small risks she takes are clever and courageous. But who you really can't figure out is Bucky towards you. He laughs at Clint's stupid sayings, ignores Sam, and talks calmly to Steve and Wanda. You wouldn't describe him as cool or dismissive, rather distant.

It takes a few rounds until the game finally begins to become more interesting. The mood loosens and there is still plenty of whiskey being poured out. Sam and Clint make a strange joke that you don't quite understand. Some pun called Clint and Bucky - you give the two men a little smile in recognition of their efforts, but Bucky almost pulls it from the chair.

His laughter is melodic and deep, but above all it's true. Politicians, entrepreneurs, professors - these men laugh, but they don't laugh with you, they laugh at you. Little girl. Uneducated. Not to be taken seriously. Little child. But Bucky laughs together with everyone at the table. A warm feeling spreads between your legs, your stomach balances backwards. The evening has taken an interesting turn. Maybe even more is possible? A new plan comes into being in your head.

Your cards show a promising picture. Time to put the plan into action... From the inside you bite your cheek, with your free hand you stroke along your throat. Your gaze wanders over the group, but briefly hangs over Bucky's bright eyes. Who can blame you? Eyes as clear as a star in the sky are attractive. Again, your eyes land on your own cards, which you place hidden in front of you on the table. With your lips pinched together, you push all your chips into the middle. "All in", your voice is thin, but attracts everyone's attention.

Steve moans and throws the cards on the table: "I'm out. It's too hot for me." Wanda, Sam and Clint flew Steve's example, with Sam and Clint probably doing everything Steve would have given them at that moment. All that alcohol had made any rational thinking impossible. Only Bucky doesn't part with his cards. He counts once, then his chips a second time. He wrinkles his nose and looks you straight in the eye. Again, your stomach does a somersault, but this time a forward one. How do you know that? You just must accept it after the jerk that runs through your body. "I'm missing some chips...", he pushes the few you he owns to yours in the middle. His pile is clearly punier than yours. "But I am certainly... In advantage." Bucky waggles his cards and a striking, crooked smile brightens his face. To prove it, he throws his cards in the middle of the table. Full House: Three ladies and two nines. Bucky's grin has widened a little, his white teeth flash brightly. His big hands already reach for the chips in the middle of the table, but you click your tongue. Irritated, Bucky raises his gaze, his eyebrows pulled together.

You can't avoid a small, winning smile. But quickly you level your features again and sort the cards on your hand. "I think my hand looks a little better..." You look at Bucky with big deer eyes, but then you lower your eyes to your cards. Slowly you spread one card next to the other. King of Spades, King of Clubs, King of Diamonds, King of Hearts and finally Seven of Hearts. Four of a Kind.

"Fuck...", the curse rolled Bucky unconsciously over the dark lips. Steve lifts an eyebrow but says nothing to his best friend. The lost game is already punishment enough. You collect the chips on the table. Carefully you sort the colourful thalers before you, a pretty small stack has developed before you. Bucky clears his throat. The whole situation is unpleasant for him. "I'll pay you the money, of course. I have enough in my room." A little smile plays over your lips: "Don't worry, you'll pay. I will see to it."

Bucky moves away from the table and the other players start a new round. But really, the mood slowly calms down, the time is moving incessantly towards midnight. Slowly the group dissolves. Natasha and Bruce have retired earlier, without anyone noticing (or wanting). Sam and Clint drink directly from a newly opened bottle of wine, which is certainly one of Tony's special treasures. Steve, Wanda, Maria and Rhodey have made their way to their private rooms together. You leave your chips on the table and turn to Bucky. He had rather stayed in the background when saying goodbye but didn't let you out of his sight. His glowing blue eyes almost burned into your body. It took you some effort not to tremble under his gaze.

Now, as you approach him, his gaze rests on your face. His eyes sparkling knowing, a super soldier like him will certainly not forget a promise of money. "I have the money in my room, I will fetch it directly", you like its direct nature. Why talk about it for so long when everyone knows what it's all about anyway? Betting debts are honorary debts. "Please don't bother because of me. I'll just come right along", your smile is warm and friendly. Bucky just shrugs his shoulders.

Without another word he leads you to the elevator, further up to the private level. In the long hallway he takes a few steps forward, you take your time to follow him. You just like the sight of his back too much. He had already taken off his jacket while playing cards and now he's just throwing it over his shoulder. The white shirt stretches delicately over the wide shoulders and the chic suit pants have a butt carved out of marble. You really wouldn't mind if the hallway was at least 100 km longer, but unfortunately Bucky stops in front of a door after only a few meters. He opens the door and enters the room and you follow him in uninvited. „I've got the money right here.“ Bucky crosses the room, past a large sofa and a huge, comfortable bed.

"I have no interest in money." Your strange comment makes Bucky pause and he turns to you. Asking, he has raised his eyebrows, unsure what to say to you. With swaying hips you walk towards Bucky, a sensual smile on your red lips. You stay close in front of him, stroke your lips with your tongue. Feeling his incredible body warmth, you can't stop yourself from stretching out your hands towards him. Gently you smooth the collar of his shirt. "Can't you imagine what a woman would like more?"

Bucky's face lights up, finally he understands you. His big hands lie on your hips, pulling you a little closer. "What did you imagine? Your smile gets wider, you didn't expect him to bite so fast - all the better for you. You stand on your toes, try to overcome your difference in size. With a smoky voice you whisper into his ear, your breath a warm breath: "I will ride you until I whimper your name".

Stunned, Bucky opens his pretty eyes. No woman had ever spoken to him like that before. But Jesus, he likes it. You wander down from his ear, over his cheek to his full lips. Your lips find each other, nibble, bite, dance together. You only interrupt the kiss to pull the tight black top over your head. Your full breasts are only tamed by an elegant black bra, but Bucky doesn't pay attention to it. Almost brutally, he tears the exclusive piece off your shoulders, but that's already forgotten as his mouth closes around your nipple. His tongue strokes your bud, sucking it into your mouth. His metal hand is dedicated to your other breast, the cool metal on your heating skin a sensation.

You could give yourself all to Bucky's mouth and hand, but it demands more from you. Your hand strokes his head, pulling his hair to release your nipple from his mouth and turn back towards you. "On the bed", you command him only. Bucky doesn't need another request. His hand around your hip comes loose. He quickly takes off his already open shirt, shoes, socks, trousers and underpants follow directly. You watch Bucky like an eagle chasing a little mouse. The sight of his abdominal muscles alone makes you tremble, but then his half erect penis jumps free.

Swallowing heavily, you look at his best piece. It was to be assumed that Bucky is well stocked, but that exceeds any of your wet dreams. Without taking your eyes off Bucky's penis, you say, "Lie down on the bed." Of course Bucky didn't miss your look and he smiles inside himself. Of course, he knows he's quite well equipped, but your recognition makes his friend pulsate even more. While Bucky lies down on the bed following your instructions, you quickly take off your high heels, skirt and panties. It doesn't surprise you that your juices have collected in the panties.

Bucky supports himself on his arm and watches you squirm out of the skirt. Finally, you follow him onto the bed, crawling over his body on all fours. With your mouth open, you spread feathery kisses on Bucky's pelvic bones while your hands stroke his thighs. With a moan, Bucky drops into the pillows. His hand finds your head and strokes your hair from your face.

Your lips find his shaft and you put your hand around his base. With your tongue you stroke over the tip, taste his salty pre-ejaculate. You continue stroking, moistening his entire length. As wet as you are already between your legs, your effort is completely unnecessary. Perhaps unnecessary, but the way Bucky trembles and moans under your tongue and lips is a real pleasure.

Bucky's hand finds a strand of your hair and he grabs it, a grunt escapes his throat. You lift your gaze from his penis and look straight into his eyes. His pupils are black, dilated with relish. You rise, swing a leg over his hip, kneel over him. His gaze strokes from your illuminated face, over your full breasts, down between your legs. Your vulva glitters and Bucky stretch out his hand, but you quickly grasp his wrist and put his hand on your hip instead. Slowly you lower your hip, your hand back to Bucky's penis. Your labia brush over his tip and you push him between them. He penetrates you, expands your innermost. A moan escapes your lips as you sink down on Bucky. You need to take a moment to trace the feeling of fullness and get used to it.

Your eyes are closed, your lips slightly open. Bucky absorbs each of your facial features, enjoying the sight he gives you. His metal hand also finds your hip and he begin to massage your soft flesh. Slowly you begin to move your hips. Up and down. Up and down. His velvety penis, you feel every vein. You keep moving up and down on his tail until only his round tip remains in you. With another jerk you sink down on him again. You moan together, your narrow tail and his mighty tail form a unity.

You lean on your chest, press your fingernails into his soft skin. The muscles in your legs begin to tremble with excitement and effort. Bucky strengthens his grip around your hip, begins to support your movements. Trembling your muscles clench together, your orgasm builds up stronger and stronger. Bucky's rhythm becomes faster, more powerful. "Bucky... Bucky!", your voice is just a soft whimper, your flat breaths are interrupted by deep groans.

The next blow hits you deeply and a wave of pure ectasia spills over you. Your innermost muscles cramp around Bucky and Bucky unloads his warm juice inside you. As if bedded in cotton wool, you drop onto Bucky's chest, pressing your face against his neck. Still deep inside you can feel your juices mixing. Slowly Bucky withdraws from you and pulls out the blanket under you. Sluggishly he wraps you in the blanket and wraps his arms around you before you come to rest breathing heavily.

"It's nice that I can still meet you!” Tony's sudden cry lets Bucky and you drive around. So late in the dark night you hadn't counted on anyone. Bucky insisted on escorting you from the tower and calling you a taxi. Of course, you didn't object. Too much you enjoy crossing the empty tower arm in arm.

Tony doesn't seem to confuse the whole situation at all. His eyes sparkle, his grin is wide and radiant. Either he had joined Sam and Clint, or he had already looked deep into the bottle during the official part of the evening. "You were my personal Fortuna today! The evening was a complete success. We've collected more than we've collected in a long time", he claps his hands, enthusiastic, his joy from the alcohol only increased. "I will arrange the transfer of your commission in the morning."

"You notice how Bucky stiffens in your arm involuntarily. "Yes," Tony already begins. "The little one is a professional player. I like to invite her to my poker evenings. Then I can always be sure that the rouble will roll! You put your head in the back of your neck and grin at Bucky mischievously.

"Sorry, sweetie. But you never had a chance against me."

~ Fin ~

#my writing #1000winterthotswritingchallenge #bucky x you #bucky x reader smut #marvel #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes #poker

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theherothechampiontheinquisitor · 4 years

Text

Unto the Breach

Pairing: Eventual Pepperony, past Tony/May

Rated G

Iron Dad galore

Summary: At the age of 16 Tony Stark became a father. He also gave up his claim as the Stark heir and cut off all ties to that life to raise his son on his own. 15 years later his past finally begins to catch up to him and he has to set aside his pride and open his life back up to his parents in order for his son to have the life he deserves.

A Gilmore Girls AU

Notes: I know someone recently did something similar but this has been languishing in my drafts and I really loved it and wanted to post it so here it is. Not everything will be accurate to the show and I kinda made May Peter’s mom because I was watching Only You when I wrote this and yeah, they made a cute couple. lol Don’t judge.

Read it on AO3

------------------- The front door of “Pepper’s” burst open, nearly taking the bell off as it rattled and jingled the arrival of the only customer who could make an entrance like that. A cool breeze blew in behind Tony Stark, signaling what would soon be the start of crisp fall mornings, as he stumbled like a zombie towards the front counter, desperately clutching a well worn travel mug in his hands.

“Pepper, light of my life. Pepper, please you have to help me. I need you.”

He could feel Pepper roll her eyes as she moved around behind the counter, sizing him up as he collapsed onto the first empty stool.

“How much have you had today, Tony?” She raised her eyebrow at him and dared him to lie to her.

“Erm, this will be my first of the day…” It was mostly true. Her stare pierced down to his very soul and he squirmed awkwardly, the squeaks of the stool echoing beneath him. “Okay, the first of a normal person’s morning.”

“And how many before that?”

“Three but who’s counting? You know yours is the best anyways.”

Pepper’s coffee couldn’t be beat. It made every other brew taste like dirty dish water in comparison to the rich, smooth blend that was sitting in a pot just barely out of his reach. It was tatamount to torture to be this close and his cup still so empty.

Pepper’s stern face came back to his vision as she leaned down towards him, hands gripping the counter. “You have a problem Tony.”

He smiled what he hoped was a charming smile. “My problem is this empty mug, Pep.”

She just shook her head in despair and sighed. “Say it with me Tony…”

“I am addicted to coffee,” they both spoke at the same time, Tony’s voice slightly manic over Pepper’s monotone. She did this to him on purpose, always on the days that he needed his fix the worst. Tantamount to torture, damn it.

“There! I've admitted it. My shame is out there for all to know.”

She gazed into his eyes for a long time, before cracking a real smile, finally satisfied that she had made him suffer enough. Pepper swiftly turned back around and grabbed the coffee pot returning to slowly fill up his cup.

“And I am sadly your enabler.”

Tony inhaled the steaming brew as his cup filled and immediately took a large gulp, not caring how hot it was. He had developed an immunity to hot coffee by now. The groan it elicited could have put Meg Ryan to shame.

“You’re a godsend Pep and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Pepper just shook her head and went back to what she was doing before he burst through the door. Over her shoulder she asked, “Where’s Pete?”

“Oh, you know,” he began, sneaking a blueberry muffin from the display in front of him. “He fell behind on my quest for coffee. Decisions had to be made, casualties were endured.”

It was that precise moment the door blew open again and the younger Stark entered looking frazzled. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, coming up to the counter and collapsing his books next to Tony. Tony jumped reflexively and nearly spilled the precious brown liquid all over his shirt.

“Man, for someone with short legs I’ll never get over how fast you can travel when properly motivated!” he exclaimed and Tony just shrugged, picking a couple of pieces from the muffin and sliding the rest down to Peter.

“Hey, we have the same genes so I would watch it if I were you.”

“Yeah, but I at least have the benefit of a few more years of growing to do.”

Tony frowned and nudged Peter’s shoulder. He took another sip of coffee as he evaluated the boy. “You’re being a terror this morning, let me help you out. Coffee?”

Peter nodded desperately. “Coffee.”

Tony waved Pepper over, taking Peter’s Spiderman mug, a gag gift from last christmas, and holding it out beggingly before him. He jutted his bottom lip out and giving the red head what he hoped was his most pitiful look.

“Please ma’am, may I have some more?”

“Don't go on tour anytime soon, your Oliver Twist is terrible,” she deadpanned.

“So, I’ve heard. Please, it’s for Pete. He’s a growing boy.”

"You know coffee actually stunts your growth right?"

"Lies and slander, probably made up by tea drinkers." Tony shuddered in his seat for dramatic effect.

Pepper eyed him up and down. "Sure about that one? You seem to be missing a few inches."

Tony scoffed. "C'mon Pep, stop browbeating me and do it for the boy."

Pepper looked between the pair and Peter had joined Tony in giving his best wounded puppy look. The pair made a striking picture, their features mirroring the other so perfectly, one would be hard pressed to deny their relation. Looking at Peter especially though, Pepper felt that same protective urge stir inside her that she had when he was still just a child, those big doe eyes pleading for another sweet. She relented, as she always did, filling his mug to the top.

Tony motioned to his now empty mug with a grin but she just gave him a pointed stare and put the pot back.

“Sorry, no refills to coffee moochers.”

“Aw, Pep don’t be like that. Just put it on my tab.”

“You don’t have a tab, Tony.”

“Well, I should.”

“Forget about it, you’re lucky you got what you did. I can’t enable you any further this morning.”

“This is oppression!”

Peter watched the exchange with a smile. It was old hat by now, the start of a thousand mornings for the Stark men.

“Thank you, Ms. Potts!” he called out to her and took a large drink from his own mug, Tony looking on enviously. Peter just ignored him and whipped out his cell phone, tapping a few buttons and bringing up a text thread.

“So, check it out, I was texting Ned this morning and he said that the acceptance packets for Midtown were supposed to be sent out this week. We could be getting them as soon as friday! And I was looking at the uniforms online again and they’re really not that bad. I mean I can deal with the coats and ties for a bit if it means getting to take robotics…”

He eagerly shoved the phone into Tony’s face, scrolling through the stock photos of the school uniforms that they had already perused through a million times at home. His excitement was contagious and Tony smiled along with him and listened as he described the different classes that he was hoping to take.

They had applied for the late fall term having completely missed the early fall registration deadline because Tony had stayed up all night on an inventing bender and passed out around six am, totally blowing through the morning alarm. Peter was a notorious heavy sleeper too, so neither stirred until well after the window for registration had closed. Tony felt awful but Peter had taken it all in stride.

The phone suddenly started buzzing in Peter’s hand, the Imperial March from Star Wars blaring across the small cafe making customers heads pop up and search out the cause of the disruption. Peter panicked and immediately declined the call from Ned, shooting him a quick text that he’d call him later, but it was too late and Pepper had already marched her way over to where he sat and eyed the phone he hastily tried to pocket.

“Peter, c’mon. Do you see the sign?” she asked turning around and pointing to the sign that boldly stated the cell phone free zone.

“Oh, I know, sorry Ms. Potts! I was showing him the uniforms for Midtown and then Ned called, but I told him I’d call him back after I leave,” he started rambling nervously but Pepper cut him off with a wave as Tony snickered in the background.

“Don’t worry about it, just remember for next time.”

“Oh, of course,” he smiled so earnestly it was hard to even feign annoyance.

“So, Midtown,” Pepper began, settling back between the pair, pretending to wipe down the already clean countertops. “Did you get in finally?”

“We don’t know yet. Should be finding out this week. If it’s a small envelope we’re doomed, but a big envelope and you’ll be looking at Midtown class of 2020.”

“Well, I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you,” she smiled and squeezed his hand affectionately. “You make it and I’ll make you that pie you always harass me to make out of season.”

Tony blanched. Pepper didn’t make concessions to anyone, even as doe eyed and innocent as Pete. “Um, okay, how come he gets the special treatment?”

“He’s more polite than you.”

“I resent that remark.”

“I can’t help the truth,” she shrugged and and headed to the other end of the bar to wait on a pair of blondes that walked in, looking very lost and out of place. Passerbys Tony, would wager.

“She’s in love with me,” he said with a matter of fact nod. Peter rolled his eyes so hard Tony worried they’d get stuck that way.

“I can tell by the way you both verbally assault each other every morning.”

“It’s just a matter of time, I’m telling you. She can’t resist the Stark charm forever.”

“Is that what that was?”

“Hey, don’t you have a bus to catch?”

“Nah, I have a few minutes. I like to watch Ms. Potts dance circles around you.”

“And just for that one you have lost coffee privileges,” he said and reached over to snatch up Peter’s mug before he could even protest. Tony threw it back in one drink as Peter unsuccessfully tried to get it back.

“You’re getting me more, that’s not right stealing a man’s coffee like that.” Peter folded his arms across his chest and glared.

“Please, you’re still a boy, and no refills remember?”

“That’s only for you.”

Tony slid the mug over to bump against Peter’s school books. “Then I guess you should start working Pepper now for that next fix.”

Peter groaned and playfully shoved Tony as he stood up and made his way to beg for more lifeblood.

Tony watched the boy go and felt the same immense pride and happiness swell in his chest that he always did when looking at Peter for too long. The kid was brilliant, maybe even more so than he was, only he was going to make something more of himself than a failed inventor moonlighting as an inn manager. He couldn’t dwell too hard on his own failings though. For the most part he was exactly where he wanted to be and it was sure as hell a much better enviornment for Peter to grow up in than that empty and foreboding Stark mansion.

Though the money of that life would definitely have been a huge help. By Tony’s estimation it would take around $75,000 altogether to put Peter through Midtown and he had no idea where he was going to come up with that kind of dough. They had enough money put back to be comfortable where they were but it wouldn’t take long for it to be bled dry. He wouldn’t let Peter worry about that though. Tony would stand out on a corner selling himself if it meant the kid got the education that he wanted. Okay, so maybe it wouldn’t come to that particular extreme, but there was nothing that he wouldn’t do to ensure Peter’s continued happiness.

A shrill laugh filled the air and brought Tony out of his daze. Peter still hadn’t returned and he looked around the small room searching for his curly bedhead. He spotted him at the end of the bar leaning back awkwardly, one of the leggy blondes from earlier practically sandwiching him against the counter. She had been the source of the laugh. Tony evaluated the scene and could tell that Peter was clearly uncomfortable as the woman looked at him like he was prey.

Pepper shot concerned glances every couple of seconds but she was busy helping another customer, unable to come to his rescue.

Tony hopped down from the stool and shoved his hands into his jean pockets as he approached.

“...cabin in the woods for the weekend. I’d really love it if you could join us too,” Tony caught the blonde saying in a suggestive tone as he approached.

Peter laughed nervously and rubbed his neck with the hand that wasn’t holding the newly refilled coffee.

“Is everything okay over here, Pete?”

Peter’s eyes shot to Tony’s in relief and he scooted towards him subconsciously. The blonde turned towards Tony too at first with a look of disgust and annoyance at having her conversation interrupted but then she raked her eyes across Tony’s form appreciatively and her grin from before grew more predatory if it were possible.

“Yeah, I was just getting coffee from Ms. Potts when I was…”

“Accosted?” Tony supplied helpfully.

The blonde tsked. “Hi, I’m Christine.”

“Tony,” he said with a nod.

“Tony. I was just discussing with your little brother here, that I was just passing through on my way to a weekend retreat with a friend. I think it’d be really nice if you guys could join us. We’ll go hiking, make a campfire, maybe some skinny dipping at the lake,” she raised her brow suggestively and Peter’s face turned an impressive shade of beet red.

Tony’s mind hadn’t even got to processing that part of the conversation yet.

“Brother?” he asked and looked over to Peter, holding the laughter at bay. The thought seemingly finally permeated his understanding as well because then Peter was laughing and Tony was right there with him.

Christine stared at the duo blankly as they tried to get the laughter under control.

“She thinks…” Tony began.

“That me and you…” Peter continued.

“This always happens.”

The laughter finally stopped and they both straightened up, Tony turning to Christine and schooling his features back to what Peter called his serious face.

“Peter is not my brother.”

“He’s not?” Christine asked in confusion. She looked the duo over once more noting the similarities in eyes and facial structure.

“Peter is my son.”

“Your son?” she gaped.

“According to the birth certificate,” Peter added, his confidence and joking manner returning at the shift in power of the situation.

Christine tried to recover from her error and squared her shoulders. “Well, the offer is still open. Father and son changes things a little but I do have a friend,” she motioned to a brunette that was sitting at a table glued to her cell phone an inch away from her face.

“Slow down, cougar town don’t let his height deceive you. Peter is 15 years old. You’ve been sexually harassing a minor for the last ten minutes.”

Christine’s eyes practically bulged from her skull and she backed away slowly, bumping into the table behind her. “I am so sorry, you look...and he looked…” she stuttered and snapped in front of her friends face a few times. “Jillian we need to leave.”

Tony had never seen such a hasty retreat in his thirty one years of life. He and Pete started laughing again and headed back to their original seats, Peter hastily grabbing his books from the counter and shoving them into his backpack.

“Well, that was fun,” he remarked and then threw an arm around Tony’s neck and giving him a quick squeeze. “Love ya, Dad. Star Wars marathon tonight?” Peter asked backing up towards the door with finger pointed at him. “You promised.”

“Original trilogy only,” Tony replied firmly.

“You’re such a snob.” Another eyeroll. Tony didn’t know how he didn’t get dizzy. “Take out from Joe’s and that new chinese restaurant?”

“Done.”

Peter smiled again and finally satisfied darted out the door and to the bus stop. Tony watched him run down the street until he couldn’t see him anymore, a grin still plastered to his face.The sound of coffee filling his empty mug caused Tony to whip around in wonder.

“I thought there were no refills?”

He folded his arms across his chest as Pepper just shrugged in response.

“Consider it a thank you.”

“For what?”

Pepper smiled sweetly and Tony got that fluttery feeling in his chest that always occurred when Pepper Potts smiled at him. He wanted to take a picture and frame it forever. She glanced to the table that Christine and her friend had vacated and then back to Tony and winked.

“For taking out the trash.”

He smiled back and took a long drink of the perfectly blended coffee. He didn’t care what jokes Peter made. That Stark charm was definitely wearing her down. Now if only they were close enough to ask her for a boatload of money to put his son through the school of his choice.

Tony did have other options.

He could call...them.

He would almost rather die though. Almost. They could definitely afford it and would almost certainly be thrilled to help their only grandson, but he didn't want to let them get their hooks in Peter and by extension himself. He spent so many years distancing himself from that life and proving that he didn't need them and their money. To come crawling back even for such a noble cause was painful. And who knows. Maybe Peter wouldn't even get in.

Shit. Who was he kidding? Peter was almost guaranteed to be admitted. He was his father's son after all.

Still. He could put off Howard and Maria a little longer.

Pulling out his phone he scrolled through his contacts. He had friends but none that he could impose upon like that.

There was one more person though. He scrolled down to the M's and his finger hovered over May's number. He and May had always retained a great friendship. They chatted often enough and she always made time to ask about and talk to Peter. If anyone would help him and not make him feel completely humiliated in the process it was May Parker. This was technically 50% of her responsibility after all.

She was Peter's mother.

#Mel's Fics #Pepperony #Iron Dad #Pepperony fanfiction #iron dad fanfiction #Gilmore Girls AU

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memescomicswriting · 5 years

Text

Law and Order Ch. 1

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Former Georgetown graduate, Y/N left her multimillion-dollar corporate job for her morals. Now working for underfunded lobbying campaigns, she tries to maintain a mundane life outside of DC, despite Sheild’s impressive recruitment offers. What happens when her selfless efforts catch the eye of the champion of the weak, Captain America? Is his cause worth suffering the political spotlight again? Hopefully so.

A/N: This takes place after Winter Soldier but before Civil War. I’ll probably break cannon soon, if I haven’t already. Like and Reblong! Comment what you think!

---

"Y/N!" Carol, the office receptionist called out. "I have Sheild on line two again." Despite having a sliding glass door with blinds for privacy, the small size of the office did little to create solitude. Y/N grunted into her hand. This was the third time this week she received a call from the not so covert government agency and it was only Tuesday. These people refused to give up. Not that she could blame them, she was one of the brightest political lawyers outside 'the swamp' as Washington politics was now called. "Carol, they could send the Black Widow herself to intimidate, bribe, or blackmail me into accepting their offer and I'd still give Agent Coulson the same answer- hell fucking no!" Y/N began putting her essential belongings in her purse. She had places to be that did not include cussing a Sheild secretary out over the phone. She could hear Carol in the background, clearly paraphrasing her words. "I'm sorry, Ms. Y/N is not available at the moment and she isn't accepting any new cases...mhm...I see..."

Y/N passed her desk, not bothering to stick around for more. Carol was great at her job. She'd maneuver Y/N's crass responses into something adequate and fangled her out of any unwanted situation with ease. Y/N were glad you could pinch her from her previous job. Y/N left the big-name corporate and legal law firms over two years ago. The day she found out the senior partners and the company had deep ties with Hydra, she quit. After learning some of the cases she worked on aided the shady back deals of the Nazi organization, she left the legal profession for a few months. Racked with quit, she gave half of your bank fund to charity then and there. She began soul searching for something to redeem herself. That's when one of her college friends, Angie, called her up. She heard Y/N quite the big leagues in favor of her dignity. Angie was now working for a Senator, and though Y/N kindly refused the option to join her, she let Y/N know about several lobbying campaigns that fit your moral compass. The 9/11 First Responders Bill was up for renewal, and the comedian Jon Stewart was doing his best to harras congress into backing and improving it. Of course, he didn't run the lobbying campaign but Y/N sure could help whoever was. Soon, she was bankrolling the staff's paychecks so they could actually pay their bills. All donations and fundraising profits went into funding the workspace, advertising, and backing like-minded politicians. She put her remaining fortune in her broker's hands to generate profit to fund this endeavor. Soon, she formed your own special interest group. Y/N and the other lawyers who signed on worked towards making the government pay reparations to those hurt do to the government's negligence or during service to their country. Many were newly graduated, interns, or a few senior lawyers fed up with Washington like herself. Currently, half of her team were divided between increasing government-funded veteran assistance and making the first responders to the Invasion of New York covered under the First Responders Bill. Y/N was now on her way now to a rally in supporting the first responders of the invasion. Her intern, Josie, trailed behind Y/N with a large stack of papers she may or may not need. Of course, she wasn't speaking, but she held copies of possible speeches for the speakers she had lined up- a few congressmen and women, Peper Potts from Stark industries, and someone representing the VA; Sam Willson. She'd hand them the speeches beforehand, if they wanted them, and a copy of the proposed bill her staff was working on passing through congress. Y/N never spoke at these things. It wasn't her. Not anymore. She hid behind the stage with the speaker's people and waited things out. She planned, created, and pushed your agenda into action. In all honesty, she'd been quite successful in the past two years. Many of her interest projects were picked up by the media and discussed in politics. Few things were passed, but even a few bills or amendments on state and federal level was a lot comparison. The drive from your office in Alexandria flew by quickly. Y/N's personal driver dropped her and her assistant off at the head of your rally in front of capitol hill. With a quick flash of her badge, they were backstage and giving orders to the employees already in place. Soon the guest speakers began to arrive. The congressmen and woman were accompanied by two or three assistants and light security. Y/N greeted them as warmly as she could a politician and thanked them for their support. She handed her proposed speeches to their teams and moved on to execute more tasks. Next, Peper Potts arrived in some futuristic mode of transport. It was just her and her security guard of Stark built technology. "Y/N!" Peper embraced Y/N in a professional hug and kissed either side of her cheeks. "Pepper," Y/N returned her greeting. "I'm so grateful that you and Stark Industries are here to support the cause. My team and I appreciate it so much. Now here's a packet of proposed speeches. I'm sure your secretary already looked over it for you. Feel free to give it a glance again and use any you like. If you have one of your own that works as well. In addition, the packet continues the Bill we're hoping to pass through and suggestions in aiding its movement. Any questions?" She glanced up at the older woman expectantly. They always had questions. "It's always work with you Y/N. No brown nosing or bsing, I enjoy it." The ginger giggled and flipped through her packet. "I have no questions. I modified one of your speeches to better align with the message the company and I wanted to get across. I'll pass along the bill and the suggestions as well as personally looking them over. This cause is very important to Tony and me, and we want to do all we can for it." Y/N hummed in contentment to Pepper's words. It was nice to have another tough female in the game with her. Before she could go, Pepper stopped Y/N by placing her hand gently on the younger woman's shoulder. "I know I'm being a hypocrite for saying this, but you work so much Y/N. You should take a break once in a while and join me for lunch or a weekend on the coast. No business, just relaxation." It was Y/N's turn to giggle. "As much as I appreciate the offer, I don't know how to do much socializing these days without it involving work. I'd annoy you to death." She waved the Pepper off. "Besides, all this gets done because I work too much." Pepper eyed her mischievously. "One of these days I'm only going to sign onto one of your causes if you agree to relax with me." However, she quickly chuckled and began flipping through the packet again. "You go back to whatever you need to do, but I'm serious. You're taking a break with me at some point." Y/N nodded in amusement. "I believe it." Y/N sauntered off to join her staff in arranging some last-minute things. Another half-hour passed and Josie grabbed Y/N's attention away from a media crew. "Um, Y/N? You might wanna check out Sam Willson?" Confused you turned to your intern. "Who again?" "The VA rep." She pointed out to a man sauntering up the hill with a pair of metal wings folding back into a pack. "What the-" Y/N took off across the grass, leaving Josie to direct the crew. The alarm was evident on Y/N's face because the man quickly bucked up. "Woah there," He met her halfway. "I know I'm not in the usual attire, but I just got off mission and I couldn't make it here and change. Figured representing the VA in my Sheild uniform would be acceptable." "Sheild?" Y/N groaned. "Did they send you here just to mess with me? I've told them no like twenty times now but if they can't get that through their bureaucratic heads I can-" "Oh no, no, no." Sam cut Y/N off mid-tantrum. "Sheild didn't send me and I don't work for them per se. I work with the Avengers. Pepper can vouch for me." Y/N took a few calming breaths, only focusing on her breathing. "I'm sorry to bombard you." She sighed. "I just really need this event to go off without a hitch. I appreciate your time here and I hope I haven't scared you off form any future involvement." Sam combusted in laughter. "You're a tough cookie sister. I fear for whatever Sheild representative they send to talk with you. You'll eat 'em alive. You'd do well with my gang of morons." "You call the Avengers a gang of morons?" Y/N raised a brow in questioning disbelief. "I'd call anyone who charges headfirst into danger moron whether it's heroic or not." Sam Shrugged nonchalantly. "And with your attitude, you'd have them whipped into order real quick." A sly smile crept onto Y/N's face. "Glad to know I have other career options if this goes belly up." She went on to go through the events routine with Sam. He was grateful he had a speech prepared for him. He trusted whatever she had in place. He went on to overlook what he'd say and Y/N went on with her other tasks. Soon the event was kicking off. Protestors gathered in front of the temporary stage. The media sat by and recorded the scene in front of them. Pepper went first, followed by a few congressmen, then Sam, and a few more congressmen. Afterwhich Y/N remained to converse with various important individuals and give her press statment- in paper only. Steve jogged up to Sam as he descended the back stairs of the stage. "Sorry, I'm late Sam. It was easier to parachute behind enemy lines in '44 than find a place to park my bike. I saw your speech though. You did great man." Sam patted his friend on the back and shook his head chuckling. "Furry gave you the rundown after the mission, didn't he." "Yeah," Steve sighed. "He sure did. I know I'm disobeying his orders but I can't help but show off our Hydra takedowns. I want everyone to know were avenging any hurt Hydra might have caused them and that we're trying to end them." "And Furry's trying to keep it hushed for his superiors." Sam shrugged, not angered but not impressed with the reasoning. "I get it." "Anyway, if you don't have anything else to do here we can go for a bite maybe and tour the Smithsonian." Steve patted his stomach subconsciously at the mention of food. "Man, you just wanna stuff me and drag me through a boring museum to torcher my already tired body. No way." Sam nudged the super soldier's shoulder. "Besides, I was thinking of using my wings to intimidate some of the politicians into further backing the cause. But now that you're here, maybe I can use you too?" Steve looked a cross between dumbstruck and annoyed. "What's it even for?" "You weren't even paying attention." Sam tsked and slapped the other man's back. "It's for expanding the 9/11 first responders bill to cover the public servants who helped during the New York Invasion. Remember, the one you fought in?" "Oh!" Steve's eyes grew large. Lord, could he be dense sometimes. "That's why you were going on about nonmilitary service. Honestly, I thought it was about volunteering." He ran a hand through his hair in thought. "Well, since we're here, I wouldn't be opposed to meeting the guy who put this show on. Maybe he can give me some legal advice on how to tackle this Hydra business." "Well, the 'gal' who organized this event and the bill we're trying to pass is over there talking to Pepper. But don't go all 40's on her and say you're impressed with her being a woman in the workforce. Y/N'll eat you alive." Sam directed Steve in the direction of Y/N. He had to say his goodbyes to her anyway. Steve glanced at Sam unamused but continued to walk. "I'm from a different time, not a moron." Sam gave the 'really' look to his friend. After all, Steve just assumed Y/N would be a man. He also held back a chuckle at the irony of Steve using the term moron. Y/N was finishing up her debrief with Pepper. She wanted to give clear instructions on how to proceed from here and also make some small plan to 'relax' with Pepper so she'd get off her case. "If you have any further questions-" "Ugh Y/N." Peper directed her to the direction behind her. "I think I get it but you have more friends that want to say hello." Y/N frowned in confusion. She talked to anyone else readily available. The remaining congressmen were chatting it up with the press at the moment. She didn't understand the meaning of Peper's interruption until she addressed the upcoming men. "Steve, Sam, it's nice to see you again. I'd tell Tony any hello you gave, but I'm sure you see him more than I do." Peper gave quick embraces to both men. "Pepper." Captain America nodded in return. "And Ms. Y/N" He outstretched his hand with a friendly but respective smile. "Oh hell," Y/N exclaimed, blowing off Steve's hand. "Now I know he's an associate of Sheild!"

A/N: Yo! I fulfilled something I said I’d do. Here’s Law and Order from my “Upcoming Works” list. Let me know what you think! How well will Steve and Y/N get along? Like and Reblog if you enjoyed it!

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kjack89 · 5 years

Text

Through the Years

A little early Valentine’s Day fluff, with all my love.

Five very different Valentine’s Days for Enjolras and Grantaire through the years. Modern AU. Featuring background Joly/Bossuet.

February 14, 2015

“What’re you doing up this early?” Bossuet asked, tipping his head back automatically for Joly to drop a kiss on his lips as he darted around the kitchen looking harried.

“I’ve got pre-rounds at the hospital in half an hour,” Joly told him, pouring coffee into a travel mug. “Did you forget to go to bed last night?”

Bossuet sighed, glancing back down at the newspaper. “Accidentally set my alarm for 4:30 instead of 8:30,” he said mournfully. “Hey, do you remember what show won the 2014 Tony?”

Joly blinked. “Are you trying to do the crossword again?”

“Trying but not succeeding,” Bossuet sighed.

Joly laughed and kissed the top of his head before peering over his shoulder. “11 down is ‘Ali’.”

“Hm?”

“Aladdin Prince, three letters,” Joly said, pointing at the column in question. “It’s Ali.”

Bossuet scowled and batted his hand away. “Ok but I would’ve gotten that one on my own, thanks.”

Joly laughed but before he could respond, a slightly frantic knock sounded on their door, and he sighed and gave Bossuet a look. “I do not have time to deal with Grantaire this morning.”

“I’ll deal with it,” Bossuet assured him, standing and heading to the door while Joly disappeared back into the bedroom to grab his bag. Bossuet took a deep, steadying breath before forcing a smile and opening the door. “Good morning, R,” he said.

Grantaire brushed past him, his eyes wild, his hair completely disheveled. “I am so fucked,” he announced hoarsely.

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that,” Bossuet assured him without anything even approximating sincerity, skirting past Grantaire to make his way over to the coffee pot. “Coffee?”

“I’d prefer something stronger,” Grantaire muttered.

Bossuet gave him a look. “You drank all our whiskey the last time you had an early morning crisis.”

Grantaire scowled. “And you didn’t go to the liquor store in the interim?”

“Nor apparently did you, so—”

Grantaire almost smiled. “Touché.”

Before he could say anything else, Joly rushed out of the bedroom. “Hey, R,” he said as he darted past him and kissed Bossuet on the cheek. “Love you, see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you too!” Bossuet called after him before turning back to Grantaire, who looked disgruntled. “He’s got pre-rounds.”

Grantaire shook his head. “No, that’s—I mean, yeah, I know Joly’s busy, but, like…” He trailed off before shaking his head again, somewhat incredulously. “You know what day it is, right?”

“Uh — Saturday?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Grantaire informed him, still looking a little miffed as he accepted a mug of coffee from Bossuet. “And I was missing a little bit of the expected nauseatingly perfect romance between you and darling Jolllly.”

Bossuet laughed. “Romance,” he practically chortled. “Joly and I have been together for, what, five years now, and you think we still care about romance?” He shook his head. “We’ll celebrate Valentine’s Day when we get a joint day off, and in the meantime, what we have is better than that shit.”

Grantaire raised an eyebrow. “Better than that shit,” he repeated. “I guess romance really is dead.”

Bossuet gave him a look. “Anyway,” he said deliberately, “what crisis brought you here at ass o’clock in the morning?”

Grantaire’s smile disappeared, replaced by something approaching panic. “It’s — it’s just, like, hilariously bad timing,” he muttered, slumping down at the table. “Like, worthy of your luck kind of bad timing.”

Bossuet sat down across from him. “Bad timing?” he repeated. “For you and I assume Enjolras?”

“Am I that obvious?” Grantaire asked, and when Bossuet remained tactfully silent, he sighed. “Yeah, ok, I’m that obvious.” He sighed again and scrubbed a hand across his face before leaning forward and lowering his voice. “Look, this has to stay between us, alright?”

“Between us includes Joly, right?” Bossuet asked, and Grantaire rolled his eyes.

“Yes, you, me, Joly, and no one else, ok? I mean it.”

“Shall I cross my heart and hope to die?” Bossuet quipped, but when Grantaire didn’t so much as smile, his own smile faded. “Grantaire, what’s going on?”

Grantaire drained his mug of coffee in one big gulp before managing, “Enjolras and I…” He trailed off, but Bossuet didn’t press, and after a long moment, Grantaire cleared his throat before continuing, somewhat reluctantly, “Enjolras and I were at the Musain late last night and we were talking—”

“Arguing,” Bossuet interrupted and Grantaire half-smiled.

“—and, y’know, it got late and one thing led to another and, uh…” He again trailed off and took a deep breath before blurting all in one rapid go, “He-invited-me-back-to-his-place-and-we-had-sex.”

Bossuet choked on his sip of coffee, but for some reason, his resulting cough sounded an awful lot like ‘finally’. “Well, that’s, uh…” He trailed off as if searching for the right word but seemed to give up on that plan, settling instead for asking, somewhat delicately, “So what are you freaking out about?”

Grantaire stared at him. “We had sex,” he repeated slowly, as if he thought Bossuet hadn’t quite grasped it. “Enjolras. And me. On the night before Valentine’s Day.” He made a face. “And then, technically, again on Valentine’s Day.”

“Ah.” Bossuet took a sip of coffee before asking cautiously, “So are you more freaked out by the fact that you had sex and you don’t know what it means, or that you had sex on Valentine’s Day and you don’t know what that means?”

“I...we…Both?” Grantaire’s face turned a mottled shade of red. “We just, uh, we didn’t, y’know, talk. About. Stuff.”

“Well with eloquence like that, I can see why.”

Grantaire glared at him. “I come to you in my time of need and this is how you treat me?”

Bossuet shrugged. “You’re always welcome to find someone else who will let you into their apartment at 5 in the morning and give you coffee and listen to you rant.”

Though Grantaire’s glare didn’t waver, he still managed a seething, “Fair point,” before dropping his head into his hands and practically wailing in a muffled voice, “What does it mean?”

Bossuet patted him consolingly on the shoulder. “Well, I think the sex probably speaks for itself. After all, you two have been sickeningly into each other for years now, even if you’re both too stubborn to actually admit it. As for Valentine’s Day—” He hesitated. “I mean, it’s Enjolras. Love him though I do — though certainly not like you — I cannot imagine that he would care about a capitalist non-holiday, and I almost guarantee that he was not thinking about it when he asked you back to his.”

“So it didn’t mean anything to him?”

Grantaire’s voice was high-pitched and miserable, and Bossuet sighed. “You slept together for the first time so I doubt it doesn’t mean anything. Just — I also doubt it means anything more to him than it would on any other day of the year.” He paused. “Besides, like, Bastille Day. Maybe.”

Grantaire peeked through his fingers as he asked despairingly, “And what if I want it to mean more?”

Bossuet stared at him. “Do you?” he asked doubtfully.

Grantaire slowly lowered his hands from his face as he shrugged, looking almost embarrassed at what he had admitted. “I mean...it’s Enjolras,” he hedged, as if it was an answer to the question. “And it’s Valentine’s Day. Put the two together and it’s almost enough to make me a believer.”

“Key word there being almost,” Bossuet muttered. He shook his head slowly. “Well, look, first and foremost, you should probably be having this conversation with Enjolras, not with me.” Grantaire let out a wounded noise at the thought, which Bossuet ignored. “And secondly, since it is Valentine’s Day...seems like a pretty good time to tell him that you want this to mean more.”

Grantaire wrinkled his nose. “Can’t I just sleep with him again?”

“You can. And I’m pretty sure you’re gonna, regardless of what I say. But if five years of nauseatingly perfect romance — your words, not mine — have taught me anything, you’re still gonna have to talk eventually.”

Bossuet finished his coffee while Grantaire stewed in silence. Eventually, Grantaire sighed. “Fine,” he said, drawing the single syllable out as if it pained him. “I will talk to him. Or something. Though I can’t guarantee I won’t sleep with him again first.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Bossuet said solemnly, though he couldn’t quite stop his grin. “And Grantaire — I’m really happy for you.”

“Hold that thought until after I talk to him,” Grantaire grumbled, though he knocked into Bossuet with something like affection as he stood. “Thanks for everything, blah blah blah, I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“What, are you going now?” Bossuet asked, startled. “It’s not six o’clock in the morning yet.”

Grantaire shrugged. “Yeah, I figure if I hurry, I can probably get back to Enjolras’s before he wakes up.”

Bossuet stared at him. “He wasn’t even awake when you left?!”

Grantaire looked smug. “What can I say, I wore him out,” he said with a smirk, and Bossuet rolled his eyes. “But seriously, he sleeps like the dead. It would take a nuclear explosion to wake him up.” He paused. “Or Courfeyrac. Moral of the story, he probably won’t even notice I was gone. And hell, I may even get another couple hours of sleep, since I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Again Bossuet rolled his eyes. “Because of all the sex?” he asked dryly.

“No. Because Enjolras snores.”

Grantaire kissed the top of Bossuet’s bald head. “Thanks for everything,” he repeated, and Bossuet squirmed away, laughing.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, now get outta here,” he said. “Oh, and Grantaire?” Grantaire paused and glanced back at him. “Do you know what show won a 2014 Tony Award?”

“Just Google the answers to the crossword puzzle like everyone else,” Grantaire told him, smirking when Bossuet scowled at him. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“Happy Valentine’s Day my ass,” Bossuet grumbled, turning back to the newspaper. He stared at the crossword puzzle for a moment before sighing and pulling out his phone.

But before going into Google, he opened his text messages first.

[To: Joly] You’re not gonna believe that happened.

[To: Bossuet] E and R?

[To: Joly] Got it in one.

[To: Bossuet] F I N A L L Y

---

February 14, 2016

Enjolras adjusted his cufflinks as he glanced around the crowded ballroom, relaxing when he saw Grantaire weaving through the crowd, a glass of champagne in one hand, a glass of some amber alcohol in the other. “Did you get the coat check squared away?” he asked as he reached Enjolras and handed the glass of champagne off.

“Yes, though I’m not entirely sure why the gentleman manning the coat check found my questions about how much he was being paid rude,” Enjolras said, taking a sip of champagne before pulling at his bowtie. “And I think he thought I was trying to get him to join a church instead of join a union.”

“Potato, po-tah-to,” Grantaire mumbled into his whiskey as he scanned the room. “So I assume we have to make the rounds at some point, but if you don’t mind, I’d rather have a drink or two in me first.” He glanced at Enjolras, half-smiling. “And I imagine you’d prefer me with a drink or two as well.”

Enjolras laughed lightly and shook his head. “You are one of the only people I know who can be significantly nicer when drunk than when sober.”

Grantaire leaned in and kissed his cheek. “That’s only because you haven’t spent enough time around drunk girls,” he said cheerfully. “Trust me, no one is as nice a drunk girl who senses any kind of kindred spirit.”

“Even Éponine?”

Grantaire considered it. “Ok, Ép may be the exception to that rule.”

Enjolras laughed again before giving Grantaire an appraising look. “I know I said it earlier, but you look really amazing tonight.”

“What, this old thing?” Grantaire said, aiming for nonchalance even as he preened slightly at the compliment. “What can I say, Bossuet accidentally buying our tuxes instead of renting them for Marius and Cosette’s wedding came in handy.” He gave Enjolras a once-over. “And you, of course, look positively sinful. I want to gag you with that red pocket square.”

Enjolras choked on an ill-timed sip of champagne. “Really?” he spluttered, as red as the pocket square in question. Grantaire just smirked and sipped his drink as Enjolras recovered, and when his blush had finally faded to something more like a light pink, Enjolras cleared his throat and looked back at Grantaire. “As much as it pains me to say this given, y’know, everything,” he said sourly, “thanks for coming with me.”

“Open bar,” Grantaire told him. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “I mean it,” he insisted. “After all, I know this probably wasn’t how you wanted to spend our first official Valentine’s Day together—”

“What, at a black tie political fundraiser on a Sunday evening?” Grantaire asked dryly.

Enjolras scowled. “It’s not political, it’s a fundraiser for heart disease research.”

Grantaire gave him a look. “Ok, sure, and the fact that you and a bunch of other political junkies are attending a heart disease fundraiser within two weeks of Super Tuesday is a coincidence.”

Enjolras had the good grace to at least look slightly embarrassed. “It’s also American Heart Month,” he mumbled.

“And Black History Month but at least the NAACP had the good sense to hold their gala on a Saturday.” Enjolras opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Grantaire drained his drink and grabbed his hand. “C’mon, let’s dance.”

“I don’t dance,” Enjolras protested, even as Grantaire pulled him over to the dance floor.

“And I don’t attend black tie functions, and yet here we both are,” Grantaire said blithely, smirking up at him.

Enjolras glanced down at him, letting Grantaire steer him around the dance floor. “I really do mean it,” he said after a long moment, and Grantaire gave him a questioning look. “Thank you for coming with me tonight.”

Grantaire half-smiled. “I meant it as well.”

“Meant what?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

---

February 14, 2017

Grantaire let himself into the apartment and Enjolras glanced up at him, waving a vague greeting without breaking his concentration on his phone call, his phone sandwiched between his shoulder and ear as he sorted through some papers on the coffee table. “And who did you say was organizing the rapid response to any future executive orders on immigration?” he asked, jotting something down. “And their spokesperson is still— yeah, perfect.”

He glanced up as Grantaire made his way into the kitchen, his brow furrowing as he watched Grantaire empty the bag of takeout he had. “No, count Les Amis in. We’ll organize something. I’ll be in touch later in the week with details.”

He tossed his phone down and rubbed his eyes before glancing at Grantaire again, something like wariness tightening his shoulders as he watched Grantaire all but slam the styrofoam takeout containers on the counter. “Everything ok?”

Grantaire didn’t look at him. “Fine.”

Enjolras sighed. “Obviously you’re not fine, he said, standing and crossing cautiously to the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

Grantaire turned to the photo calendar from Shutterfly that Courfeyrac had insisted on getting them for Christmas. “Dinner at 7pm at Osaka Sushi,” he read off before turning back to Enjolras, even if he still didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Ring any bells?”

Enjolras froze, and a quick glance at the clock on the oven confirmed that it was after 8. “Shit,” he breathed. “I am so sorry, I got wrapped in a call and I completely forgot—”

“No kidding,” Grantaire said, bracing himself against the kitchen counter. “Do you know how long I waited at the restaurant for you?”

“You should’ve called—”

“I did,” Grantaire said shortly. “Your phone was busy.”

He grabbed one of the styrofoam containers and a set of chopsticks before stalking out of the kitchen, Enjolras, trailing after him. “All this shit with Trump’s executive orders has really thrown everything off,” Enjolras offered, like a an explanation or an excuse. “And I know that doesn’t make getting stood up any better—”

“Stood up on Valentine’s Day,” Grantaire interrupted.

Enjolras winced. “Right. I—”

“Forgot?” Grantaire finished for him. “Yeah, I kind of figured that out for myself.” He shook his head, sitting down on the couch and staring at the papers strewn across the coffee table still. “You know what the worst part is? It’s not that it’s Valentine’s Day. It’s not even that it’s our anniversary, since I imagine you forgot that as well. It’s that you didn’t even think to call or text when I wasn’t home at the usual time.” He shook his head. “I ranked so low on your list of priorities that you didn’t even notice that I spent the last hour sitting by myself at a restaurant, waiting for you.”

“I’m sorry,” Enjolras repeated quietly, hovering awkwardly in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Are you?” Grantaire asked sharply, looking at him for the first time.

“Of course I am,” Enjolras said, his brow furrowing, defensive despite himself. “It’s not like this was intentional.”

Grantaire barked a humorless laugh. “Of course it wasn’t. Intention would require you to think about me.”

Enjolras inhaled sharply. “That’s not fair.”

“I don’t think you get to decide what’s fair here—”

“I think about you more than I’ve ever thought about another person,” Enjolras told him, no small amount of heat in his voice. “Because I love you. But loving you doesn’t change the fact that my job, my life can be erratic depending on what’s going on in the world. You knew that going into this two years ago.”

Grantaire set the unopened styrofoam container on the coffee table and stood. “You’re right,” he said hollowly. “I did know. So I guess this, like everything, is my fault.”

Enjolras sighed. “That’s not what I meant,” he said, but Grantaire just shook his head.

“I don’t particularly feel like doing this right now,” he said tiredly. “So I’m done.”

Enjolras stiffened. “What do you mean, done?” he asked, his voice suddenly hoarse. “You mean, like—”

Grantaire’s eyes flew to his. “God, no, of course not. I just meant—” He waved a dismissive hand. “I’m done with this argument and I’m going to go to bed.” Enjolras nodded jerkily and Grantaire’s expression softened, just slightly. “Hey,” he said softly, crossing over to him and grabbing both of his hands. “I love you. And we are probably never going to not fight about the Cause and your priorities, but that doesn’t mean that I’m willing to walk away from this. Ok?”

Enjolras nodded wordlessly and pulled Grantaire to him, wrapping him in a tight hug and resting his chin on top of Grantaire’s head. “I love you.”

“I know,” Grantaire said, his voice muffled against Enjolras’s chest. “I know.”

---

February 14, 2018

“This was nice,” Enjolras said, holding Grantaire’s hand as they walked home from the restaurant.

“It was,” Grantaire agreed. “Ethically sourced seafood, excellent wine, decent company…”

Enjolras made an affronted noise. “Decent?” he repeated. “When I didn’t check my phone once during dinner?” Grantaire raised an eyebrow and he quickly amended, “During the entree part of dinner at least?”

Grantaire just laughed, twisting his wrist to bring Enjolras’s hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss against his knuckles. “More than decent,” he allowed. “Especially considering the dessert waiting for me at home.”

“Oh?” Enjolras said. “Did you get something special for dessert?”

“I wouldn’t say special, but I would say one of my favorite things.”

Enjolras nodded slowly. “So...dessert wine?”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “You, you idiot.”

“Me?” Enjolras repeated. “What do you—” He broke off. “Oh. Oh. I like the sound of that.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes again. “God, you’re lucky I love you,” he muttered, even as he reached up to kiss Enjolras.

Enjolras hummed in agreement and was about to say something when he yawned widely. “Oh, man,” he said, blinking rapidly. “Food coma.”

“Food coma or string of early morning meetings?” Grantaire asked before he also yawned, his jaw cracking as he did. “God, getting older’s a bitch.”

“Glad I have something to look forward to,” Enjolras said, yawning again.

Grantaire poked him in the stomach. “Stop that,” he scolded, stifling a second yawn of his own. “We’ve got dessert waiting for us. And while it’s not exactly a requirement, I would prefer if you were awake for it.”

“Sorry,” Enjolras siad, “I’ll be more awake by the time we get home, I promise.”

“You better be,” Grantaire muttered before he yawned again.

But by the time they made it home, neither of them were particularly more awake than they had been, and Grantaire leaned against the wall of their apartment building as Enjolras fumbled with his keys. “I have a proposition,” he said.

“And what proposition is that?” Enjolras murmured tiredly before he found the right key and let them inside, all but collapsing on the couch and reaching automatically to pull Grantaire down with him.

Grantaire curled against Enjolras and yawned. “What if we have dessert for breakfast?”

Enjolras considered it. “Just so we’re clear, by dessert you mean sex, right?” Grantaire’s long-suffering sigh was the only answer, and Enjolras laughed lightly. “I think I’m supposed to meet Combeferre and Courfeyrac at 7 but I can text them and push it back to 8.”

“I know you’re an optimist but an hour seems a bit extreme even for you,” Grantaire mumbled.

Enjolras laughed again, but gentler this time, and he shifted to free an arm so that he could run his fingers through Grantaire’s dark curls. “You’re really fine with postponing until tomorrow?”

Grantaire shrugged. ‘Better to postpone than fall asleep with your dick in my mouth.”

“Vulgar,” Enjolras mumbled, his eyelids drooping and his hand moving slower and slower with each pass through Grantaire’s hair. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know,” Grantaire said, so quietly that Enjolras could barely hear him. “Luckiest guy in the world.”

---

February 14, 2019

Grantaire perched on the edge of the table at the Musain, smiling slightly when Enjolras automatically shifted to lean against him. “Almost ready to go home?” he asked, carding his fingers through Enjolras’s hair.

“Just let me—” Enjolras typed a comment on the blog post he was editing before closing his laptop. “Done.”

Courfeyrac looked up at them as Enjolras stood and gathered his things together. “So what exciting V-Day plans do you two lovebirds have?” he asked, fluttering his eyelashes at them both.

“We don’t,” Grantaire said simply, taking Enjolras’s bag from him so he could put his coat on.

“Well that’s not true,” Enjolras said. “Brooklyn Nine-Nine is new tonight.”

Grantaire grinned. “Excellent point. I almost forgot.” He leaned in and pressed a swift peck to the corner of Enjolras’s mouth. “Now let’s go home.”

Enjolras grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together as they started toward the door. Courfeyrac stared after them, shaking his head slightly, and Combeferre glanced up at him. “What?” he asked.

“Is that what all of us have to look forward to?” Courfeyrac asked, slightly disgruntled, gesturing toward Enjolras and Grantaire. “Is that what love turns into?”

Combeferre just shrugged, looking back down at his laptop. “I certainly hope so.”

Courfeyrac frowned at him but didn’t say anything, just shaking his head as he looked critically back at Enjolras and Grantaire, watching as Grantaire lightly swatted Enjolras’s ass, and Enjolras elbowed him, laughing, before pulling him in and kissing him. “Yeah,” Courfeyrac said slowly, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, I hope so, too.”

#enjolras #grantaire #enjolras x grantaire #exr #enjoltaire #joly x bossuet #joly #bossuet #combeferre #courfeyrac #fanfiction #les miserables #modern au #fluff #valentine's day #developing relationship #established relationship

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builder051 · 5 years

Text

Fool me twice, shame on me

Steve hasn’t been called to stand at attention at the side of the road for… he’ll have to do the math to figure out how long. He’s fairly sure he’s only been ordered to do so twice, and both on that same first day of basic training all those years ago. In the time since, it’s been more likely that he’s the guy in the towncar the cadets are waiting for.

Steve feels bad when people make an effort like that for him, even though he’s supposed to feel honored. But a bunch of ROTC kids with the sun in their eyes doesn’t do anything to boost his confidence. Or theirs, he assumes.

He doesn’t have a good reason to go stand out in the driveway when the voice over the facility’s intercom lets everyone in the vicinity know that Happy and Mr. Parker are due to arrive in five minutes. Steve likes the kid, but in the same vaguely friendly way that he likes Starbucks and Mario Kart. Maybe he likes all three a little more because they tend to coalesce and happen all at once.

The best excuse he can think of is that he just wants something to do. That’s what he says with a shrug and embarrassed smile when T’Challa takes in his faded jeans and this morning’s gym tee and asks why Steve’s joining the welcoming committee.

“Why is there a welcoming committee to begin with?” Steve shoots back, then immediately regrets the harshness of the words. “I mean… You’ve met the kid, right?”

“He’s coming to work on a project with Mr. Stark and my sister,” T’Challa replies. “They’re already down in the lab. But Shuri hasn’t met Mr. Parker yet.”

“Ah.” Steve nods. “Giving him the ol’ big brother check.” He never had younger siblings to look out for, and Becca squirmed out from under Bucky’s protective gaze before they hit high school. He’d manage to keep an eye on Steve, though. T’Challa’s probably just as astute, and with all the bells and whistles of modern background checks, Steve imagines the kid is already thoroughly investigated.

“Yes,” T’Challa says. He opens his mouth, probably to ask the requisite oh-so-you-have-siblings question, but a black SUV speeds up the driveway and steals the spotlight.

The back door pops open automatically, and Happy’s voice carries from the driver’s seat. “Out. Now.”

A weak cough comes in reply, then, “Ok, ok.” Wet sneakers scramble for purchase on the pavement, then an ashen-faced teenager gets out, practically swaying on his feet. “Ugh.” He wraps the arm that isn’t hugging his backpack tightly around his stomach, then looks at Steve, then quickly at the ground. His face goes red, then back to white, then to a delicate shade of green. “Not again.”

“Huh?” Steve’s brows furrow.

He doesn’t have long to wonder, though, for the kid trips off in the direction of the trashcan outside the facility’s front door and promptly buries his head in it.

“Oh.” Steve recalls the similar outcome of their first meeting. He quickly drops his gaze away from Peter’s heaving shoulders, only to find T’Challa staring questioningly at him. “You don’t wanna know.” Steve shakes his head.

“Why come at all?” T’Challa murmurs. “For the love of Bast…”

“What does that mean?” Steve asks loudly, capitalizing on the opportunity to change the subject. “I’ve heard you say that before.”

T’Challa prepares to speak again, but he’s interrupted again. The driver’s door opens and a portly man emerges, running a few steps toward the hedge separating yard from driveway. He turns his back, but there’s no mistaking the ragged cough and slurry of runny oatmeal that hits the ground between his polished shoes.

Steve cringes on instinct. He swallows in sympathy and rubs the stubble on his upper lip. “Christ…”

“Yeah, that’s…” T’Challa waves his hand as if filling in the blank. “Close enough.”

But Steve isn’t listening anymore. He takes a step toward the car. He knows full well what he’ll find in the backseat, and he can’t for the life of him think of why he wants to look.

There really isn’t much to see, just some yellow-brown tinted fluid on the floor mat and the leather seat. It stinks to high heaven, though, sour and briney. “Wow,” Steve sighs. “I never know, is it worse if it’s kids? Or just always worse if it’s not yours?”

T’Challa doesn’t seem to want to comment. Steve doesn’t blame him. He does take a last breath of clean air before reaching into the vehicle and yanking out the floor mat. He sets it gingerly on the driveway, cracking a manic smile when T’Challa leaps away.

The front door of the facility swings open behind them. “What the hell?” Tony’s voice asks. “When you said you were a little sick, I thought you meant, like, tissue sick. Not…this.” He stands awkwardly, a foot or so behind Peter, not seeming to want to touch him. Shuri clings to the door, one rainbow sneaker on either side of the threshold.

“I’m sorry Mr. Stark,” Peter chokes. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, but simply throws up again.

“Yeah, well…” Tony trails off. He takes in the rest of the scene, his eyes alighting on Steve, the floor mat, and finally Happy, who’s sheepishly slinking around the side of the building, away from sick under the bushes. “Great. This is great. Just the front I wanted to put up for distinguished guests.”

“Oh, no. No problem,” T’Challa says, pulling himself together. “It happens. Nothing is wrong with your hospitality.”

“Yeah, just, still…” Tony grits his teeth. “Hey, sweetheart?” he addresses Shuri.

“I go by your highness, or hey girl,” Shuri corrects. T’Challa gives her a withering look, which Shuri returns.

“Duly noted.�� Tony starts over, this time without an honorific. “Do you mind taking Pete inside?”

“Not at all. It may be a good opportunity to test out the healing nanobots.” Shuri grins. She grabs Peter’s elbow, ignoring the scared look on his face, and pulls him through the front door.

“Ok, good.” Tony lets out a breath. “I’m going to ignore my head of transport’s, uh, less-than-clean getaway. That leaves the car. Which you two should not be cleaning.”

“I’m doing nothing of the sort.” T’Challa raises his hands.

“Alright.” Tony says. “Steve? I have staff to do that.”

“Nobody should have to do this,” Steve says, already feeling bad for whatever cleaning crew will have to deal with the mess.

“Which follows that you should not be doing that.” Tony jabs a finger at him. “I have bots, remember?”

“Oh.” Steve feels his cheeks redden. He nudges the floor mat with the toe of his shoe. “So, it’s good to just leave it?”

“Yep.” Tony holds the door open and jerks his head, inviting T’Challa and Steve to follow him inside. “Tea? Coffee?” He grimaces. “Lysol?”

“No, thank you,” T’Challa says.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “I’m good.”

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southside-vixen · 5 years

Text

Fire and Ice (Sweet Pea) 7

Chapter 7. Tequila, Hold the Worm

AO3

Adrianna Rivera has just made a difficult move from Arizona to the southside of Riverdale. With the history of her life in Phoenix behind her will she be able to find a new family in the Southside Serpents? Or will a certain tall, dark, and rage inducing Serpent cause issues?

Ness made the trade off for the Serpent kids that night, it seemed the snake charmer made good on her promise. However, just as soon as her friends arrived they all left with Ness for a Serpent Summit. Since Adria wasn’t a Serpent, and she wasn’t working, she therefore wasn’t invited.

The minutes ticked by like hours as she waited for Ness and Toni to get back. First she tried watching TV, then reading a magazine, then in an act of desperation doing sit ups. Nothing helped. It was after midnight by the time Ness and Toni got back. Ness collapsed on the couch as Toni went and took a shower. Adria stared at her aunt waiting for some sort of news.

“Yes, Adrianna?” Ness rubbed her temples, sinking further into the cushions.

“Are you not going to tell me what happened?” She sat expectantly, hating being left out of the loop. Ness didn’t have an issue telling her issues with the gang before so it seemed odd that she would start now.

“Ask Toni. I’ve had enough Serpent business for the night.” She sighed again “I’m sorry Adria, I just need to sleep.” Ness left for her room leaving Adria standing in the living room, waiting for Toni. Clearly something had gone on if Ness was already this tired.

When Toni stepped out of the bathroom Adria was already buzzing around her, nosy as ever, prodding for information about the meeting she missed out on.

“Will you let me put clothes on first?” Toni groaned, going through the dresser for a shirt and shorts. “You have no chill.”

“I get that a lot.” Adria replied, taking a seat on her bed. She impatiently waited as Toni got dressed before she stared expectantly again “Toni, come on this is killing me.”

“Christ, Ads. It’s not as exciting as you want to think.” Toni grabbed a brush to run through her hair, not bothering to look in Adria’s direction “Jughead went with Tall Boy to try to deal with the Ghoulie issue. Jughead decided on a car race next weekend.”

“Jughead decided to deal with the Ghoulies a la Fast and Furious street race? And you tell me nothing exciting happened?” Adria started intently at her foster sister/ friend “What is exciting to you?”

Toni didn’t say anything for a moment, trying to think of would actually excite her after all the shit the Serpents put her through “Winning the lottery.” She shrugged.

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

The days counted down until the big race as Jughead kept disappearing to his ex-girlfriend to work on the race car. Toni made a comment before about how Betty didn’t seem the mechanic type, not like Adria would know as she never formally met her. School had quieted down after the raid, although it was clear both the Serpents and the Ghoulies were on edge.

The morning of the race Adria was destroying her closet trying to find something to wear. What does one wear to a street race? She scoured the internet trying to find anything helpful before finally consulting Toni. Who was equally not helpful.

“Just wear what you usually do” She replied

It didn’t matter what Adria wore because she was told to tend the bar while every other Serpent attended the race.

“This is torture.” Adria murmured to herself, picking up another glass to clean. Sure enough there wasn’t a soul in the bar. Most of the day she sat on her phone, waiting to see if someone would post something on social media. Her FOMO kicking in hard.

The hours passed by as she passed her time doing nothing at all. She stared at the windows waiting for a motorcycle to pull up. At this rate she was so bored she would have welcomed actual customers.

Sweet Pea was the first to pull in with Toni on the back of his bike. She could see him angrily toss his helmet on the back while Toni looked like she was trying to calm him down. Adria wasn’t necessarily excited about the first person she saw being the angriest person she knew, but at least she wouldn’t be bored anymore.

“You don’t know that!” Sweet Pea ripped the door open, causing the bell on top to nearly go flying as Toni hurried in behind “He could have known the whole time which is why the sheriff got Malachai and not him.”

Sweet Pea pulled up a stool at the bar while Toni went behind it to start her shift. Just in time as the parking lot was quickly filling up with a sea of leather jackets.

“Sounds like you guys had a good time” Adria smiled and rested her elbows on the bar “Care to fill me in?”

“Jughead put us in bed with the pigs. The whole race was a sham, the sheriff was waiting at the bend to arrest the Ghoulie leader.” Pea grumbled angrily

“Sweet Pea doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Sure, Malachai got arrested but Jughead swears he didn’t know about it. His friend Archie owned up to it and if Jughead said he isn’t involved I’m inclined to believe him.” Toni argued

“You’re just backing him up because you want to fuck him” Sweet Pea didn’t bother to make eye contact but Toni at this point was fuming. Adria knew that Toni gave up on Jughead the moment she found out he wasn’t over his ex but she didn’t think she told Sweet Pea or Fangs about it.

“Just because I spend time with him” Toni started to raise her voice causing the Serpents who had just entered to stop what they were doing entirely “When the rest of you can’t be bothered does not mean I’m crawling into bed with him. He’s honest and if this were his plan he would have said something”

She slammed down the drink one on of the older Serpents ordered and collected a handful of bills to put in the till. The whole bar was silent for a minute, quite the feat for a full house. Soon enough the bar sprung back to life, trying to ignore Toni’s outburst. Sweet Pea left the bar to go find Fangs at the pool table and Toni joined Adria in hastily making drinks for the crowd.

“You good?” Adria asked when things settled down

“Yeah I’m fine. I just wish he’d think before he opens his stupid mouth” Toni eyed Sweet Pea from across the bar, a frown still apparent on her face. It wasn’t likely that she would let this one go any time soon.

“That would be terrifying” Adria laughed “At first it bothered me but now I think it’s kind of nice. I like knowing where I stand with people. Better to know that I’m not liked than have someone go behind my back.” Adria shrugged. Sure she would rather he stop giving her so much shit but at least he didn’t smile to her face and laugh at her behind her back. Unless he did. But he really didn’t seem the type.

“Is that a compliment I hear?” Toni raised an eyebrow, her frown curling upward at the corner of her mouth

“Absolutely not. Fuck that guy” Adria smiled back at her

“You wish.” Toni’s smirk turned into a full grin as Adria punched her in the arm causing her to flinch and rub the spot. “I deserved that.” The two girls both shared a bit of laughter and all was right with the world.

A few hours later the bar managed to calm down a bit and half the patrons left as they had other things to do on their weekend. Adria watched as Fangs and Sweet Pea finish up another game of pool while Toni dried glasses.

“I’ve got winner.” Adria called out across the room. It had been a while since she last played, she wondered if she would still be able to keep up. Both boys nodded at her request and returned to their concentrating, only pausing to give each other grief between shots.

Soon enough Sweet Pea came out on top, giving Fangs a friendly punch in the shoulder as the taunted him about how he won 3-1. Adria popped up from her bar stool and grabbed the pool stick from Fangs’ hand.

“Good luck” He told her “He’s on a lucky streak, it’s the only way to explain it.”

“Lucky streak?” Sweet Pea laughed as he chalked the stick “Fangs just doesn’t want to admit that I’m the better man.”

Adria shot Fangs a smile before looking back at Sweet Pea “Well then. May the best woman win.” She gave him a wink.

The game started out well enough, Adria broke and ended up with stripes. Managing to get two balls in her first turn. She and Sweet Pea kept fairly even and the number of colored balls were diminishing quickly. It seemed that lucky for her playing pool was like riding a bike. Even though it was months since her last game she picked it back up quickly. Although if she were playing her father the game would have been long over. He had years of experience and skill on her.

Finally the game had dwindled down one stipe, one solid, and the eight ball. Both Fangs and Toni were watching intently, quietly placing bets on who they thought would win.

“Let’s make this interesting.” Adria said, propping the stick up beside her, the stick almost as tall as she was. “If I win you have to bus the tables in nothing but your underwear and an apron.”

Sweet Pea raised his eyebrow “Trying to get me to strip, Princess? Deal. What’s in it for me if I win?”

“I want to see you humiliated for talking all that good shit about winning” she smiled sweetly “Name your terms.”

“Alright. Same. If I win you have to bartend in an apron and underwear. I also expect VIP service.”

Adria considered the terms and accepted. She had no intention of losing, no matter what the cost. She could hear Fangs and Toni as well as some of the other Serpents wooping in the background. Adria took a deep breath as she lined up her next shot. It wasn’t an easy shot, but it was doable. She muttered a small prayer to herself and knocked her last ball toward the side pocket.

The seconds crept by as the ball moved toward the pocket, only to be knocked out of the way by the very corner of it.

“¡No Mames!” Adria yelled involuntarily. Sweet Pea immediately laughed

“So do you want to start stripping now or do you want to watch me sink these two first?” He immediately lined up his shot and sunk his last solid ball in. All that was left was the eight ball, but the game wasn’t over just yet.

“Call it.” Adria demanded

“Eight ball, corner pocket.” He tapped the pocket with his stick before chalking up one last time. Just then Adria had an idea. A brilliant one at that.

She waited until he was lining up his shot before groaning loudly trying to get his attention while she unclipped her bra from underneath her shirt. Using her feminine magic she managed to wiggle her arms out from the straps and remove it while never taking her shirt off.

She casually shoved it in her back pocket while rolling her shoulders a bit “Much better. That was just so uncomfortable” She was milking this stunt for all it was worth as it was her final shot at a distraction.

Sweet Pea’s mouth dropped open ever so slightly as he took the shot. Once the cue ball was rolling he realized it was too late. He took his eyes off Adria to see the cue ball spin sideways into the side pocket. Adria was doing her best to suppress a laugh, but Toni and Fangs were already in hysterics.

“Oof.” She smiled “A scratch on the last shot? Automatic loss.” Toni threw Adria an apron which she in turn handed to Sweet Pea “Better get stripping.”

“You fucking cheated!” he yelled “You distracted me on my last shot!”

“I did no such thing. It’s not my fault you were watching me, the straps were digging into my arms.” She made a show of rubbing her shoulders

“Fangs! Help me out here”

“Dude, not her fault you’re distracted by boobs.” He shrugged “It’s not like she was waving her hand in front of your face.”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Pea. Those tables aren’t going to bus themselves.” Toni added, smiling from the bar.

“Fucking. Fine. I’ll honor the deal.” He slid his jacket off onto the chair behind him and began unbuttoning his shirt “But everyone here knows you cheated. They’re all just enjoying this at my expense.” He made the last bit a little louder.

Adria sat herself on a barstool next to Fangs, high fiving as they watching Sweet Pea strip down to his boxers and tie an apron around his hips.

“Hope you’re enjoying the view, Princess.” Sweet Pea taunted as he began to wipe down tables “As you had to cheat to get it.”

“Someone really doesn’t like losing.” She muttered to Fangs, both laughing as he made his way around the bar, cleaning all the tables. Some over the Serpents even going as far as sticking dollar bills into the waist band of his boxers. It seemed like with this as entertainment just about everyone forgot about the events of the race. If even for a moment.

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

A few days after the race things were already calming down. Lucky for Sweet Pea everyone finally stopped teasing him about his strip tease at the Wyrm. Although a good portion of them had pictures saved on their phone for blackmail.

News was circulating that the leader of the Serpents, FP, was getting out of prison that weekend and that Jughead and his ex-turned not ex-girlfriend were throwing a retirement party at the Wyrm.

“I can’t believe the first time I’ll meet FP will be the day he retires” Adria said, poking at her salad at lunch “Who do you think will take over?”

“Hopefully not Tall Boy. He’s been awful since FP was put away.” Toni scrolled through her phone, looking at different photographers’ work on instragram. “I’m just going for Sweet Pea and Fangs to get drunk enough to sing some lovey dovey duet together.”

Right. Toni mentioned Uptown Betty even rented a karaoke machine which seemed a bit out of place at a biker bar in her opinion. Then again what did she know.

Sweet Pea slung his arm around Fangs “You’re just jealous of our love, Topaz.” He and Fangs gazed longingly into each other’s eyes before the both of them broke away laughing

“Little known fact, Ads. Pea and I are kings of karaoke.” Fangs told her “Are you going to sing something?”

“Get me drunk enough and I do a lot of things I don’t expect to be doing.” She replied

“Point taken. We’ll make sure you’re taken care of then” He gave her a wink

And sure enough they did.

FP hadn’t even arrived yet and Adria was already drunk. Fangs and Toni had been indulging her with group tequila shots while Sweet Pea opted to just stick to beer.

“Did you see Alice Cooper?” Toni asked the group “She may be Serpent enemy number one but she looks hot.”

“Oooh” Fangs slurred “Looks like Toni is into older women” they all laughed as Toni rolled her eyes

“Listen. I’m just being honest.” She raised her glass as she took another shot. The other two followed. She wasn’t exactly wrong. She had never seen Betty’s mom before but she was definitely pretty. Adria leaned up against the bar and looked at around the crowd. Sweet Pea was off in a corner being hit on by two of the younger Serpents from school. Fangs disappeared somewhere when she wasn’t paying attention and Toni was eyeing Jughead with Betty.

“Everything okay?” Adria leaned over and asked into her ear

“Yeah.” She nodded “It’s just weird seeing them together. I would have imagined him with a goth girl.” Adria nodded as well. She didn’t know much about Betty aside from what Toni told her. Just looking at them they looked like something out of Grease. Like Danny Zuko standing with Sandy.

Fangs reappeared not too long after to pull Adria away “I signed Pea and I up for Time of My Life and now it’s your turn to pick something.”

She leafed through the giant book of different karaoke songs, looking for anything Spanish.

“The only latino song you have is Despacito? With Justin Bieber?” She groaned after searching the book at least twice. “Whatever. I’ll make it work. Fangs I need more to drink if I’m going to do this.”

Fangs, who didn’t need any other excuse to get his friend wasted was on it “I can go all night with these shots.”

An hour or so later Adria watched from the back of the bar, laughing while Sweet Pea and Fangs crooned at each other with microphones in their hands. They were definitely entertaining up on stage. Overdramatically singing each line of their chosen duet. Before long their song ended and the deejay announced that Adria was up next.

She weaved through the crowd, occasionally using someone to keep herself going in a semi-straight line. She needed every ounce of her drunken confidence to push herself up on stage. She climbed the stairs and took a microphone from Fangs as he and Sweet Pea situated themselves at the front of the crowd, Toni soon joining them.

“Ahem. Toni Topaz this one’s for you.” She winked at her and blew her a small kiss before the music began. The lyrics for the remix came onto the screen, and she quickly ignored every single one in favor of the original.

“Sí, sabes que ya llevo un rato mirándote. Tengo que bailar contigo hoy” She was pitchy, and slurring but she would make this a performance to remember. She kept singing as Fangs was burst out laughing. She was glad at least one of them spoke Spanish to know how completely ridiculous she was being. It wasn’t long before he pulled out his phone and handed it to Toni who was then laughing and shaking her head. He must have given her the translation.

After she finished she took a bow and handed back the microphone, falling in with her friends. Toni was still laughing as she pushed Adria in the shoulder, nearly causing her to stumble and fall over even though there was hardly any force behind it.

“Pervert.” She smiled at her friend

“That was great, Ads” Fangs laughed as well. Sweet Pea, although he didn’t say anything, just smiled and shook his head. Soon enough Toni disappeared to help behind the bar and Fangs had moved across the room to flirt with some girl.

The next duo up for karaoke was all too familiar. Adria didn’t recognize the girl, but the red head-Archie- she recognized immediately as the one who chased them off with a gun at the bodega. Adria immediately looked up at Sweet Pea who stared at the boy instead of doing anything. She was thankful they were tucked at the back of the room behind a crowd.

The two weren’t bad signers by any means but their performance was beyond awkward. Not only was their song depressing and not fit for the mood at all, but soon the brunette girl ran off. Archie quickly dropped his mic and ran out the door after her. The crowd was only able to boo for a moment before Jughead’s girlfriend Betty took the stage and picked up where they left off.

‘Perfect song for her. Boring.’ Adria thought to herself as she rolled her eyes. She could barely see the stage behind a sea of taller Serpents but she immediately saw Betty move to unbutton her top. Adria looked around in disbelief as she threw it off to the side and moved to her skirt. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the stage so clearly she wasn’t hallucinating the situation.

When she looked back at the stage Betty was in black lingerie, trying to look sexy against the pole when she clearly had no experience.

To her surprise she heard Sweet Pea whistle from next to her. She looked up at him in shock as his face was covered in a smirk

“Hey!” She yelled at him “That’s Jughead’s girlfriend, you pervert. Cover your eyes!”

He tilted his head “What are you going to do? Make me? You can’t even reach.”

Adria’s eyes filled with drunken determination. She looked around and noticed a bar height chair behind them which she pulled up next to Sweet Pea and climbed on. Now being a head or so taller than him she leaned over to try to cover his eyes as he attempted to swat her away.

In an event everyone around them saw coming, drunk Adria lost her balance and fell off the chair. Falling right into Sweet Pea. She let out a small shriek as he took as he took a couple steps back to steady himself.

“That’s it. I’m taking you home.” He groaned, keeping his arms around her shoulders to make sure she was steady

“What? No! I’m having fun.” Adria protested, trying to wiggle free and failing miserably.

“I promised Fangs I would babysit you while he went off with some girl. You’re drunk. We’re taking you home.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!” She shouted at him

“I didn’t want to have to do this.” He shrugged. He picked her up with ease and slung her over his shoulder, causing her to yell again. She pounded against his back trying to get him to let her go, not thinking that she’d most likely fall on her face if he did.

The crowd cleared around them, not wanting to be hit with a rogue fist to the face as the two exited the bar. Outside, Sweet Pea set her down as they reached his bike and handed her a helmet.

“Hop on.” Adria rolled her eyes as she snatched the helmet from his hand and jumped on behind him. She held onto his waist as tight as she possibly could, determined to make him uncomfortable. Her own small protest from being dragged from the party.

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

When they reached her trailer, Sweet Pea walked her inside and sat on the couch. Adria stared down at him, confusion running through her brain.

“Aren’t you going to leave?” She asked, still standing across the room

“I’m here to make sure you don’t die in your sleep.”

“I’m not even tired. It’s only midnight. Go home Sweet Pea, I’m just going to watch TV.”

“I promised Fangs. Who promised Toni. I’m not leaving so get used to it.”

Adria groaned as she threw herself onto the couch next to him. Staring him down while he refused to remove his eyes from the TV. The two sat in silence, the sound of infomercials and old cartoons filling the room.

“Why won’t you look at me?” She asked, breaking the long silence

“Because I’m watching TV.” Sweet Pea replied simply

“Bullshit you are. Without looking at the guide tell me what this episode is about.” In between infomercials had been shitty re-runs of family guy. The current episode being something about the main guy making his house its own country.

“Something about how much he hates his daughter.” He pulled off the top of his head

“Wrong!” She made a buzzer noise at him “I knew you weren’t paying attention.”

“Like you are? You’ve been staring at me since I sat down.” He still hadn’t bothered to look at her, keeping his eyes glued to the TV.

“Am I bothering you?” She goaded “How about…Now?” Adria positioned herself from sitting next to him to straddling his lap. She continued to stare at him, trying to egg out a reaction only to have him look avert his eyes to the window.

“Get off.” He murmured, still refusing to look her in the eye “You’re annoying.”

“Not until you look at me.” She insisted “Look at me and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Fuck…fine.” He begrudgingly brought his eyes to hers, for once having to look up instead of down. “Are you happy now?”

Adria blinked and moved back, giving him more room. She looked up for a moment in thought before bringing her eyes back down to his “No.” her voice sounded jovial before but now it seemed to lose its light. She gently pushed a strand of his hair behind his ear and stood up. “I guess I’m not.”

Sweet Pea sat confused by the sudden turn of events, he expected her to keep tormenting him as a form of amusement until someone came and relived him of babysitting duty. But she just…stopped. He watched as she straightened herself out and pulled her hair into a ponytail. It was like a switch flipped and she was sober, serious.

“Good Night, Sweet Pea.” Was all she said as the door to her room shut behind her. Sweet Pea didn’t hear anything else come from the room until he left.

#sweet pea #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x oc #riverdale #fanfic #fireandice

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