itsallavengers writes

I want a fic where, for whatever reason, the Avengers are about to get into a Serious Car Chase, and there’s one car they have to do their Daring Escape in. They all look at each other for a few seconds, trying to decide who will be the best driver- all except Tony. He’s already pushing past them and getting in the driver’s seat, looking at them all and then glancing at his watch with a raised eyebrow.

Of course, everyone is all like ‘uhh wtf Tony like no offence but im pretty sure someone else would be more suited’, and Tony is just rolling his eyes whilst Natasha grins and hops into shotgun, because she was there in Monaco, she Knows™ . 

And then the rest of them don’t have time to argue bc the Big Bad Villains are on their way, so they can do nothing more than hop in the car whilst shooting Tony angry stares because they are convinced he’s just doing it thanks to his cockiness and ego.

And then, of course, he starts driving.

And Natasha swears to God, when he makes that 180 turn and gives Clint the perfect angle to shoot their pursuers, she can hear the collective intakes of breath from them all because son of a bitch Tony Stark can fucking drive. Like, seriously drive. He makes turns that should be physically impossible and cuts through the traffic like they’re not even there. The poor bad guys don’t even stand a chance. 

Everyone is caught between trying to shoot at the enemy and staring at Tony’s concentrating face like he’s just grown a second head.
(Steve spends rather a lot of time with his eyes on Tony’s hands as they slide over the wheel and curl around the edges, but that’s another matter entirely.)

Once they’re in the clear, Tony cuts the engine and spins them to an effortlessly  executed stop, and then finally turns around to face them all, one single raised eyebrow being the only emotion on his face. “You kids have fun?” He asks, as Natasha raises her hand for a high five.

As you can imagine, the team don’t underestimate Tony again.

Of Gods and Fire Starters

so @itsallavengers made this post and commented on this gif set forever ago pointing out the similarities of Tony as the Greek god Hephaestus and so here’s a long winded ficlet of Tony being the god of metalworking we all know him to be dfklsjfls. 

Read it on AO3 

Tony knows heat intimately— knows the caress of embers, bright and brutal, their sting a sweet kiss on the backs of his hands.

He knows the taste of ash, the smell of oil and earth and smoke; can recognize the clang of iron against rock as well as he recognizes the sound of his own voice.

Each sensation is branded across the folds of his brain, across millennia, across his body.

Only memories, now.

He was startled, when he first woke in this century. For years, for decades, for far too long he’d existed on Earth as nothing but a myth— an old Greek tale that had become so twisted that not even he could separate truth from fantasy anymore.

It was as confusing as it was painful to be alone again. To be in a house that wasn’t a home, raised by a mother and father who weren’t gods, who weren’t anything but mortal mirrors of Zeus and Hera, cold and calculating and dismissive in equal measure.

There were no gardens that could match those of Olympus, no mansion that could reach the renown of Zeus’s throne.

There was no bright, jarring awakening. Tony just was.

Hephaestus. Anthony Stark.

Godly and far, far, too human.

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fic roundup #4

Bared Teeth & Blushing Cheeks by @itsallavengers

  • summary: Steve and Tony go on their first date as a Vampire/Baseliner couple, and Tony learns some of the harsh realities that come with being an Unhuman, and just how badly the world can and does treat Steve and his friends. Then Steve, in turn, learns exactly how furious that makes Tony. (The answer is very, very furious.)
  • my comments: YAY!!! i really wanted more of this verse and I am so blessed that itsallAvengers is a writing machine because it came so soon, and it is SO amazing!! i just love this au and like, ok, I say this about everything itsallavengers writes, but this is INCREDIBLE! go read

When Love Comes Knocking (You Out) by @itsallavengers

  • summary: Steve really just wanted to buy some goddamn groceries. Instead, he tries to help a kid who’s managed to get lost in a Walmart parking lot and ends up being punched in the face by his irate and panicked father. Surprisingly, this doesn’t turn out as badly as it sounds.
  • my comments: it’s written by itsallAvengers so you probably already know why it’s on this list, BUT! it features a really adorable Peter, a badass Tony, and a really interestingly and uniquely characterized Steve kinda hardened by his time at war. such a lovely little fic!

Mission SteveTony by @itsallavengers

  • summary: If the entire team of Avengers could please stop trying to get it on with Tony when Steve is right there, he would really appreciate that, thank you.
  • my comments: so cute! jealous!steve is amazing and I love the reveal at the end of this fic. such a cute little fluffy cheer-up!

Code Name: Armour by @heartsandmuses

  • summary: Being friends with benefits with Steve is great. Really, it is. But sometimes Tony wishes they were more than just that. (Or: the modern!no-powers!AU where Tony has a crush, Steve has a secret, and both of them are pining idiots.) 
  • my comments: asdgkfhgl this was adorable! kid fic isn’t usually my go-to but this was definitely well worth the exception, highly recommend!

The Strange Case of Tony Stark’s Pajamas by nanasekei

  • summary: Steve parted his lips and, thankfully, actual words came out, instead of the very embarrassing noise he, for a horrifying second, thought he might be about to make. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, turning on his back to stare at the ceiling. “It’s your pajamas, you can wear whatever you want.” There was a pause. Then Tony let out a low, short laugh. “Good,” he said, turning around, leaving Steve to carefully count every crack in the ceiling to avoid staring at his back muscles. - In which sharing a bed with Tony should be easy, but, for some reason, it keeps getting harder.
  • my comments: YES!! this is hands down the best ‘sharing-a-bed-at-the-farm’ fic I’ve ever read. so cute and it felt so in character and Tony’s move at the end - amazing. go read this right now.

rather be under you than the stars tonight by littledruid

  • summary: Steve accidentally ejects himself from a spaceship in an escape pod. Tony’s voice on the other end of the line is the only thing keeping him together in this vast, cruel realm of emptiness they call space.
  • my comments: asfdgfhjkjkl WOW. WOW. FUCK ME UP. this is so angsty but like that great angst with a happy ending that you know is coming and it’s just so SOFT. and it’s an established relationship fic which is my kryptonite, god knows I’m going to be reading this one again and again for a while.

The Here and Now by Catchclaw

  • summary: Steve can’t remember his past before he started dating Tony. This freaks Tony out. But not Steve.
  • my comments: this is such a unique take on an amnesia fic! I really love the characterizations of Steve and Tony, and overall, this is a fascinating new take on a well-known and loved trope, it was so refreshing!

Home by DepressingGreenie

  • summary: Steve has a surprise for Tony, one that have both been dreaming about for years.
  • my comments: THIS. IS. SO. SOFT!!!! i love it with all of my heart and soul. their relationship is adorable and the struggles they face are so real but it is SO satisfying to see such an awesome point in their relationship! amazing comfort fic.

everything @s-horne  has written for her September AU Challenge

  • my comments: honestly, god BLESS tumblr user s-horne for the joy they have brought me this month. a fic a day! a fic a day. amazing. these are all so lovely and unique and I just really adore all of them, if you haven’t checked them out yet definitely scroll through the link above!!

We Had Him
by teamsharoncarter
for itsallAvengers ( @itsallavengers )

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: MCU
Rating: General
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, James “Rhodey” Rhodes, Nebula, Rocket Raccoon, Thor
Additional Tags: Infinity War Spoilers, Sharon, M’Baku, and Shuri are mentioned and Tony/Pepper are implied, Post-IW P1
Word Count: 814
Series: Part 1 of Infinity War


“Nebula.” Was all she said before her eye popped out, making everyone flinch. “Sorry,” she said, pushing it back in. “Got loose fighting Thanos.”

“I didn’t see you in the fight,” Thor accused, his fingers still wrapped around the handle of his axe.

anonymous asked:

you know how steve always sleeps on the side of the bed facing the door "bECAUSE YOU ARE PRECIOUS TONY HUSH" okay but one if one night while they were asleep baddies did break in to try and snatch tony but were met with 240 pounds of kickass

If there was one good thing that would come out of this, it was that Steve now held the right to be able to gloat about being correct.

Although, when you woke up to the sound of foreign footsteps creeping through your bedroom as you held your very un-enhanced, very asleep and very vulnerable lover in your arms- that sort of thing tended to be pushed to the back of your mind.

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take me out (to the ball game)

Summary: “Take me out to the ball game, take me out with the crowd,” Steve sings, his shoulder bumping into Tony’s as he sways back and forth. “Come on, Tony, sing!”

“I am a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist,” Tony protests around a mouthful of hot dog. “I do not sing.”

Or, Steve and Tony go to a ball game. It all kind of snowballs from there.

Word Count: 1897

Rating: Teen

Tags: Fluff, Getting Together

Read here: tumblr | ao3

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pocketsleuth  asked:


It starts out bc he finds a lil kitty curled up on the hood of his car.

He has no idea how or why it got there. But it’s… it’s tiny, and it’s black as night and curled in on itself like a lump of dark matter against the striking red of his Ferrari. He cocks his head and scritches the top of its teeny little head, and when the kitty wakes up, he realises that it’s holding its leg all funny. The poor thing is obviously a stray, and there’s something wrong with its back paw.

Pepper is going to kill him for being late to that meeting, but come on- this kitten obviously needs his help.

So he heads in the complete opposite direction of the meeting rooms he was supposed to be driving to, and instead goes to the nearest vet, the little kitten curling back up, this time in his lap. He makes sure not to move around too much, so as not to hurt it more. Unfortunately, however, when the vet looks her over, he tells Tony solemnly that the leg is too badly damaged to heal on its own, and if they wanted to help her they’d either have to amputate or just put her to sleep.

Tony checks his watch. He’s already thirty minutes late- might as well go the whole way and just miss the meeting entirely.

The kitten stays over at the vets whilst Tony throws a load of money at the person he’d been speaking to and tells him to do the best job he can with the operation, and when he goes home, he instantly claps his hands and signals for JARVIS to start a new database.

JARVIS makes a wry comment at the ‘Stark Beans’ decision, but fuck him, Tony thinks it is absolutely fitting. 

It takes him six hours to come up with the perfect design. It’s tiny and barely even uses any materials at all, but it’s flexible and lightweight and the kitty is hardly even going to notice the difference when it’s on. He puts a small rubber paw on the end- soft and durable, and fit like the real thing, and on the back of it he stamps the smallest little StarkIndustries logo on it he’s ever created.

And thus, Stark Beans™ are born.

He saves the project and sends it off to Pepper, telling her that he’s terribly sorry, but this needs to take priority now, I’m going to save all the cats in the world with this. And then once that’s done, he gets in the car and drives back to the vets.

Needless to say, it’s an instant success. 

The Stark Beans™ are put into practise almost immediately. They fast become the best thing on the market. Tony expands a little, making some for the canine counterparts too (Stark Paws™), and suddenly he has a whole market of prosthetic limbs for disabled pets. His favourite part is seeing the little boys and girls that end up running up to him, toothy smiles and sunlit eyes and fists with pictures of their puppy’s new leg and their cat’s new paw. They’re so happy. He made them happy in the space of an afternoon, because of the little kitten who sat herself on his hood and took a nap.

Of course, he keeps her. She came home with him as soon as the new limb was fitted. She was like the tiniest shadow in the galaxy; the only thing that gave away her position in the darkness was the single white paw of her Stark Bean™.

Fittingly, he named her nebula.
(Well- technically her name was Horsehead, due to the fact that it was the most famous dark nebula he could think of and at the time he’d thought it was hilarious- but Pepper had quickly put a halt to him yelling out ‘HORSEHEAD NO!’ In the middle of the office when everyone else was working.)

So yes. Nebula. Excellent model for his tech. Even better lab partner. But the best part about her was definitely her little purr when he scratched under her chin

AO3 /// buy me a kofi!

Superfamily Thing

Dad and pops were fighting again.

They had been for at least a week now. Peter was used to the occasional blowup for a night, maybe two, before they got all stupidly sappy with one another again.
This was new. Scary.

They avoided each other in the day and screamed at each other in the night when they thought he was asleep. Pops had been sleeping in the spare room for at least six of the seven nights it had been going on for. Dinner time had become a nightmare; Uncle Clint having to swap seats so he was sat in between them and prevent another fight from springing up while they ate.

He didn’t want them to split up. Divorced parents were a pain in the ass, according to the girl who sat next to him in math class. She was always talking about what a hassle it was, moving all her stuff from one house to another every weekend.

And it meant one of them would have to leave. Move out. Get a new life and a new partner and maybe even a new kid-

But Peter really didn’t want to think about that.

Today was the fifth day of Peter coming home to see only one of his parents in the kitchen, where there should usually be two. They tended to hang around, waiting for him in order to ambush him and ask questions about his day. Their latest fad was ‘so how was Wade today?’ or something along those lines, in that stupid sing-song voice that adults always did when they were being dicks.

It had been irritating- but Peter wouldn’t have minded now. If it meant they’d been doing it together, sending stupid smirky grins toward one another or just holding hands at the table rather than looking cold and tired- he wouldn’t have minded at all.

Today it was dad who greeted him. He was sat with a coffee in hand and tablet in the other, idly tapping at the keys and trying to keep his eyes open. Peter knew he hadn’t been sleeping well- it wasn’t exactly hard to tell. And although they never spoke to him about what they did with the avengers, Peter could guess that that had been the trigger for all the stupidity lately. 

He didn’t have to be the genius he was in order to figure that out. Pops hadn’t come back from the mission two Fridays ago; they’d hurried him off to hospital instead. And then three days later, once he’d been given the all-clear, dad had brought him home, where they’d proceeded to have  a huge argument. Right in front of Peter. 

Honestly, he’d just wanted to be able to sit with pops and make sure he was okay- let him stroke his hair and quiet his worries and say how tough he was, that he wouldn’t go down that easy. But instead he’d had to be hurried away by Uncle bruce, who was rolling his eyes and apologizing on behalf of them, saying that he’d be able to talk to his pops soon, but it wasn’t a good time right now.

Peter had scowled, told Uncle Bruce moodily ‘I’m thirteen, not an idiot- I know that’, and then slammed up to his room to wait it out. And, of course, Pops had hobbled up eventually; sitting on the bed with him and assuring him he was okay, he was tough as nails, and he would always, always come home to Peter.

Except he’d been alone. and usually, no matter how mad they were at each other, Pops and Dad had always talked to Peter about this together.

That had been the first warning. From then on, it had seemed things just got progressively worse.

“Hey squirt- how was school?” Dad asked, when Peter dropped his bag and began making his way into the kitchen in order to make himself a bowl of cereal (he was a growing boy, okay, shut up, cereal in the afternoon was perfectly fine, his Uncle Clint did it all the time).

he shrugged. “Eh- it was okay. Boring, as usual; they gave us a test, I aced it, again, as usual,” Peter explained, carefully avoiding the fact that they’d been learning about The Battle of New York in lesson that day. He knew it was a touchy subject for his dad, and he didn’t want to risk upsetting him.

Dad raised an eyebrow, taking a sip from his coffee and watching Peter with a look on his face. Peter just sighed. He knew what was coming.

“So how was Waaade?

He sighed. “Ugh, Wade was fine, he smiled at me while i passed on the corridors today and that was literally all that happened. I honestly don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this, he called me cute once-”

“Once is enough,” his dad shrugged bemusedly, poking Peter in the side as he walked around the table to sit next to him and get to work on his snack. 

“That is not a snack, Peter,” dad said, because unfortunately he was good at reading Peter’s mind like that. “That’s like, a full meal. We’re having dinner in an hour, are you serious-”

“School is hard work,” Peter complained, flopping on to the stool and leaning on his dad’s shoulder theatrically, “It drains me of energy that I need to replenish with Lucky Charms.”

“Natasha will blow her top if she sees you eating that- it’s her turn to cook tonight. And if she chooses to murder you for eating beforehand, then there isn’t much I can do. I know you’re my son, but the whole parent-bond thing only goes so far-”

Peter bumped him on the shoulder and he laughed quietly. It was nice to see the tension ease off his face a little.

Of course, then everything went wrong again.

“Hey Peter, didn’t know you’d be back so ear- oh,” his Pops said, entering the room and faltering when he saw Dad already sat at the table.

There was an awkward pause. Peter guessed they must have got the days wrong for which one of them was going to go and talk to him about his school day. 
That tended to happen when they didn’t actually speak to one another and acted like they were Peter’s Goddamn age.

Pops managed to collect himself, though- walking forward and smiling as he reached out to squeeze Peter’s shoulder, before heading to the cupboards and grabbing a mug. “You had a good day today?”

Peter shrugged, wishing it didn’t feel as tense as it did. Why the hell did parents have to argue anyway? It was stupid. They were being stupid, and Peter just wanted them to kiss and make up already- because that’s what they did, that’s what they always did, right? This wasn’t going to last, it couldn’t- Peter didn’t want to have two homes, he didn’t want Dad to marry someone else or Pops to have different kids-

It was only then that he realised Dad and Pops had moved, resting a hand on each shoulder while he leaned forward on to the table and hid his crumpled face in the crook of his arms.

 “Peter! Hey, baby, what’s happened, did something go down at school-”

“Do we need to go in, because we’ll go in, okay- whatever’s wrong, we’ll sort it out. Are you being bullied?”

“Did someone hurt you?”

“Did you have an argument with your friends?”

“Were y-”

“IT’S YOU TWO!” Peter yelled, jerking upward again and throwing his hands in the air. “God, this is the first time you’ve been this close to each other in ages! I haven’t seen you look each other in the eye when you’re around one another except to argue! Why the hell are you both being so stupid? I don’t…I don’t want you to get divorced! But you will and then you’ll both find stupid new people and have stupid new lives and leave me behind and we won’t be a family any more and I don’t want that so just STOP FIGHTING!”

He didn’t stop to listen to whatever stupid crap they tried to throw at him; instead kicking the chair he was sat on over and storming out of the room angrily, ignoring their calls and running up into his room before they could bother him. 

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anonymous asked:

stony, 5 please? :)

Wait a minute. Are you jealous?

There was someone hitting on Steve.

Which was woefully normal. Steve was… well, Steve. He drew every eye in the room as soon as he walked in. He was charming and kind and genuine. Literally anyone with eyes and a brain would want to take him home and keep him there. Luckily, Tony had (somehow, miraculously)  managed to get there first. 

Unluckily, however, that never seemed to stop people from trying their luck anyway. 

In all honesty, Tony couldn’t even blame them. Back in his youth, he probably would’ve tried to do the same sleazy thing. And this guy- the one brushing his shoulder against Steve’s and smiling up at him with the most obvious bedroom eyes in the entire fucking world- he seemed exactly like Tony when he’d been that age. Couldn’t have been over twenty-five, with tan skin and those stupid hipster glasses that no-one thought was cool anymore. Except Steve, who called them ‘neat’. 

Goddamn him and his adorable ass. 

They were having what appeared to be an avid conversation, Steve cradling his bottle of beer between two hands as he leaned against the bar and watched the other guy talk. Tony, to be quite honest, wasn’t even supposed to be at the gala at all. It was for a school-funding charity that Steve had fronted, and although Tony’d been invited as a guest, he’d been ridiculously busy and had had to send Steve out on his own. 

Of course, this was what happened as soon as everyone saw that Steve Rogers was missing a Tony Stark hanging off his arm. Obviously thought he was fair game. Fucking vultures.

Would Steve even want him to butt in at this point? Tony had come to drop off Steve’s speech which he’d somehow managed to leave in the workshop before heading out, and when he’d texted he’d implied that the event had been pretty boring- but that was twenty minutes ago, and he seemed to be having a good time now. With the younger, hotter version of Tony who had an ass that left practically nothing to the imagination in those jeans and who probably didn’t have nearly as much trauma and daddy issues-

Stop it, he warned himself with a huff. It had been three years, and Steve hadn’t left yet. He loved Tony. Tony was being ridiculous. Tony was-

…Watching as the man ‘spilled’ his drink all over Steve’s dress shirt and then used that as an excuse to put hands all over Tony’s fucking boyfriend, dammit, those were his pecs to touch, not that little overzealous highschooler who probably didn’t even have anything higher than a fucking bachelors in anything, the stupid little bastard.

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anonymous asked:

so how about Tony facing his worst fears in order to save Peter? And then in return, Peter rides out the subsequent panic attacks and mental breakdowns that come from it. (Bc I'm a sucker for that angst haha)

The first thing he noticed when he came back to consciousness was the hand that carded gently through his hair.

He jerked, hands flailing wildly as he attempted to fight off the ghost of his attackers. God, his head hurt. He felt woozy; nauseous in a way he hadn’t since developing his powers. Everything felt a little off-kilter, and as he rolled to the side, his head fell from the soft surface it had been resting on and down toward a far harder, unforgiving one, which only increased the pain in the back of his head-

“Hey hey hey, Peter, whoah, calm down, it’s okay, it’s just me. It’s just me! You’re good, kid, you’re good,” someone said above him, and Peter groaned a little, but let himself relax instinctively at the sound of the voice.

Safe voice. Good voice. No threat. That was nice.

“T’ny?” he slurred, rolling back around and opening his heavy eyelids, trying to focus on the figure that was leaning over him.

“That’s me,” Tony replied, giving him a weary grin. His lip was split and there was a cut running across his cheek which was bleeding pretty heavily, so the whole thing looked rather grim, but still. Peter guessed it was the thought that counted. “You feeling okay? Kinda woozy? Gonna be sick, do you think?”

Peter thought about it for a second, before shaking his head. “Not g’nna hurl. J’st feel like…”


“Garb’ge, yeah.”

Tony nodded, patting him on the shoulder. “Yeah, that’ll be the drugs. You remember what happened?”

Peter furrowed his brow, trying to think back. His whole head just felt fluffy- like trying to wade through candyfloss, or catch smoke. “There was…lunch?”

Tony let out a brief bark of laughter. “Of course that’s the part you remember. Yeah, you were in the SI cafeteria, grabbing me some food. It was break, so there were a tonne of other people too.”

Peter began to nod a little as the memories cam back. “An’ then… then there was…gas?”

Tony grimaced. “Fucking HYDRA. Gassed the whole room out, came in with all their shitty guns, told me I had one minute to get down there or they’d start shooting. Honestly,” he shook his head, and had Peter not felt the slightly shaking hand on his shoulder, he would have thought Tony was more annoyed than afraid, “they’re so goddamn crass sometimes.”

Peter made a face. “Why am I here, though? Did I fight ‘em?”

“I’m not sure. I left before I could see the rest of the footage. But the last thing I saw was you…” Tony stopped, looking rather haunted, “you were the last one standing. I think it took more for your body to be overcome by the gas. They must have…fuck, I don’t know.” He shook his head, hand gripping a little tighter to Peter’s shoulder. “They must have recognised you. You’re seen with me a lot, so I guess they just thought you were valuable. Probably because you’re gonna be useful bargaining material,” Tony muttered, face like thunder as he rubbed a hand over his eyes. “God, I’m sorry kid. I’m so… fuck,” he whispered, looking away, eyes flicking up and over Peter’s head for a moment, before resting back down on Peter’s face. “I won’t let them do anything to you, though, Peter, I swear- God, I’ll torch their entire foundations to the fucking ground if they do and they fucking know it, so I don’t know what they’re thinking-”

“I’ll be fine,” Peter said quietly, finding Tony’s hand and gripping as he slowly hauled himself into sitting position. It sent a wave of dizziness over him, and he wobbled precariously for a moment before settling. “I’m enhanced. It takes a lot to hurt me.”

“Hey, hey, just lie down, Peter- you need to conserve energy. The drugs were only designed for normal humans. It’ll hopefully be out of your system soon, and you can get out,” Tony told him, pushing him back down so his head was resting in Tony’s lap once more. Peter wasn’t even strong enough to push back.

“Fuck,” he cursed. “This’s the f’rst time I been kidnapped,” he muttered.

“And I’m gonna make sure it’s your last,” Tony replied harshly, speaking more to himself than Peter. He looked pretty stricken, and his eyes kept goddamn shifting-

Curiously, Peter turned, rolling on his shoulder until he was facing the other way. He hadn’t properly taken in his surroundings yet, and the position he was lying in meant that he had his head facing the tiles of the wall

As he turned, his eyes widened a little. It took a while for his focus to shift back in, but once it did, he noted the large glass pane that separated them from the rest of the room.

They were in a holding cell; nothing more than a box, really. No features, no windows. Just like a part of an empty room had been cordoned off by glass. And on the other side…

There was some weird, futuristic-looking device. Like a vat, but completely see-through. Peter could see the water that glistened, eerily still in the light of the afternoon. It was the only thing in the huge warehouse.

A deep, primal sort of fear struck him as he took it in. It wasn’t some fancy schmancy death machine, it wasn’t intricate or even obviously threatening.

It was just water. 
But that held the potential for many, many unpleasant things.

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anonymous asked:

would you be willing to write some more tony stark with peter parker and their father-son relationship? because i think it's so precious and i loved your story with peter getting drunk! maybe you could write something with peter being really, really sad and crying and desperately needing a hug and feeling like nobody cares about him and someow he finds his way over to tony. and before tony can even ask what's wrong peter just breaks down crying, so tony comforts him and hugs him maybe?


Everything was blurry. He felt wobbly on his legs; a little bit like he’d been concussed, except he knew there would be pain if he had. Physical pain, anyway. Or blood.

From behind him, people were laughing. It was loud and grated against his ears. He wanted to tell them to shut up; to scream at them, or hit them, but he knew he couldn’t. He was too strong. One punch might kill them, for all he knew.

He couldn’t do a damn thing.


More laughs. Someone shoved him in the shoulder, and he would’ve ducked out of the way, but it would’ve looked too fast to be normal, so he let them. 

“Awwww, guys, look at him, he’s going to cry!” Someone called out, and Peter looked down to the floor immediately, desperately fighting back the hotness behind his eyes. Fuck fuck fuck fuck- he wasn’t supposed to cry, he was bigger than that, he was a superhero for Christ’s sake, he could take a little teasing-

“Oh my God, look at him! He’s actually fucking crying!”

He wanted Ned. Or MJ. Where the hell were they- it was their spot in the school cafeteria, they were supposed to be here, he needed them to be here right now, everyone else was stood around him, crowding him, crushing him, he couldn’t breathe- he wanted at least one person on his side, Jesus-

“Aww, Peter,” came a soft voice to his right, so pretty and nice and exactly what Peter had loved listening to for such a long time now, “you really think I would actually have said yes? For like…serious?”

Someone shoved his shoulder again, harder this time, and Peter gritted his teeth, getting to his feet. He’d had enough of this, he needed to find…something, a toilet maybe, or an empty classroom-

Hands grabbed on to his jacket and shoved him back on to the seat again, and Peter physically fought back the urge to grab their wrist and force them off. He’d hurt them. He’d hurt them he’d hurt them he’d hurt them, he was too strong, he’d hurt them-

“You’re honestly one of the most pathetic things I’ve ever seen, Jesus, Parker,” someone else, a boy this time, leaned down and ruffled a rough hand through his hair. Everyone laughed again.

He was done.

Getting to his feet, he ignored the people who tried to push him back down again. Strength be fucking damned, he wasn’t going to spend another second in their company. He pushed at the nearest person he could reach, and then watched as they were yanked out of place and sent hurtling across the room, falling on to their back and rolling all the way across the cafeteria.

There was dead, stagnant silence.

Peter stared, horror-stricken. Oh…fucking Christ, what if he’d hurt him-

“What the shit?” The boy called out angrily, getting back to his feet and staring across the room with a look that could’ve curdled milk.

Right. Not that injured, then.

“What the fuck is your problem, Parker?” The boy snarled, beginning to step forward, and there was a crowd gathering now, obviously preparing for some sort of fight, and where the hell were all the teachers, shouldn’t they sort this shit out-

“FIGHT!” Someone called, breaking the silence, and then suddenly they were all yelling; chants and sneers, egging the other boy on as he took another step, vicious grin on his face.

Peter had to stop this. Immediately.

Turning on his heel, he did the only thing he could think of.

He ran. 

He ran and ran until he reached the main entrance, and then he kept running until the school was just a distant building amongst the many in Queens.

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anonymous asked:



Tony took a deep, steadying breath, and made sure not to move too erratically. “Peter… I don’t ever want to see you driving another vehicle again. Ever. I will burn your license if ever you get one. I will crush whichever car you put your hands on the steering wheel of. I will-”

“Okay, look,  I’m not that bad, and I’m still learnin-”

“WE ARE HANGING OFF THE EDGE OF A CLIFF, PETER!” Tony yelled, barely holding back on frustratedly throwing his hands into the air as he realised that might fucking kill them both.

Peter looked rather sheepish as he peered over the bonnet of the car, which was currently rocking precariously back and forth off the ledge. “It’s not exactly a cliff- like, we won’t die if we go over-”

“That is….that is so not the point,” Tony said weakly, shaking his head and then letting it fall back against the headrest, if only so it obscured his view of the steep edge they were possibly about to start rolling down. “Why did I agree to this? Why?”

“Listen, I’ll get us out, we just need to reverse, right?” Peter asked, hand moving to the gear stick.

Tony grabbed it before those terrible fingers could touch anything which would undoubtedly just worsen their situation, or possibly set something spontaneously aflame. “If you touch any instrument on this vehicle again I am going to push you down the cliff.”

“I really think you’re overreacting,” Peter said with a nervous laugh, but his hand, thankfully, didn’t stray any further.

Good. Ever since his ass had sat in the driver’s seat, it had just been a downward spiral of bad decisions and quite frankly terrifying manoeuvres- of course, the worst being the fact that Peter hadn’t fucking slowed down on the corner and ended up careering through the fence on the edge of the road, landing them in yet another perilous situation.

If looks could kill, Peter would have been toast at that moment. 

“You’re the worst,” Tony declared loudly, fingers gripping to the side of the car and back pressed firmly against the seat in a measly attempt to try and push against gravity, “the literal worst. I’m disowning you. If I die because you  failed to steer a car effectively around a bend, you best believe I will haunt your ass for the rest of my ghostly days-”

“Hey, look here, okay,” Peter began defensively, “I’ve seen the clips of you flying the suit for the first time, and that wasn’t exactly a roaring success either-”






Peter paused, and then raised his eyebrows. “Was I supposed to bring a phone? Because I…uh…didn’t.”

Tony shut his eyes and sighed. “Oh Good.”

anonymous asked:

Wen iw as little my big brother convinced me that if someone didnt say bless you, when you sneezed, you could lose your soul out of your nose (my brother was an asshole).Now. Consider Clint Barton telling Thor is this same thing.

“SAY BLESS YOU, THOR, NOW!!” Clint screamed, a moment after erupting with a strange noise from the inside of his nose that sounded like a very small explosion.

Thor stopped, drink of water halfway to his mouth. He blinked. “Exc-”

“SAY BLESS YOU, THOR!! PLEASE!!” Clint was outright begging him, his eyes wide and panicked, and Thor was a warrior, he was trained to deal with the weird and absurd every day, so on autopilot he followed his team-mates request.

“Bless you,” he declared, and then dropped his bottle and rushed toward Clint, hands outstretched. “My friend, are you well?”

As soon as he had said the words, however, Clint just straightened up, now completely fine. The fear was gone from his eyes, and he was grinning. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he brushed it off casually, “just gotta make sure I don’t lose my soul, you know? Thanks for that, by the way. Nice save.”

“Your…” Thor paused, blinking a few times more. “I’m sorry, I think something may have gotten lost in translation here- is this a euphemism?”

Clint shook his head, face turning solemn. “Thor,” he said, grabbing the God’s shoulder. “If anyone sneezes around you, you have to bless them. It is vital, okay? Whatever the cost, whatever the case, you have to. If you don’t, their soul is ripped out of their body through their noses. It’s not pleasant at all.” He shook his head and looked down, unseeing of the abject horror that crossed Thor’s face. “I knew a man who had no one to bless him. He’s just… a shell, now. Hasn’t laughed in seventeen years.”

Thor couldn’t believe it. What animal would be cruel enough to put such a curse upon the humans? To remove one’s soul… it was the worst of all fates. How could he not have known this before? How many people had made those nasal eruptions around him, and he had just passed them by, uncaring of their suffering?

Never again, he vowed. He would follow Clint’s words. He would make sure none lost their souls in Thor’s presence.

“I understand,” he said firmly, “I will do my utmost to prevent this.”

Clint beamed. “Great!” He said, wandering off, “glad to hear it, buddy!”

Thor believed this for approximately five months. Five months of yelling his blessings in the street to random passers-by, five months of constantly being aware of the strange noises the humans made, just in case their souls were about to be put in danger. Thor was vigilant. Thor would protect them.

Then, one morning, when Thor was sat having breakfast with Tony and Steve, he heard the supersoldier sneeze. A little thing, politely hidden in the crook of his arm, but Thor heard it all the same. He waited a second, fully expecting Tony to bless him. That was the least a lover could do for his partner, right?

But Tony did nothing. Tony simply continued to cook his eggs, uncaring and oblivious to Steve’s imminent soul-extraction.

Jumping to his feet quickly. Thor turned to Steve. “BY ALL THE GODS OF ASGARD, I , THOR, BLESS YOU STEVE ROGERS!”

Both men in front of him jumped wildly at the loudness of the noise, and Steve jerked back in surprise, bumping into Tony’s back. It was only Steve’s quick reflexes that stopped him from falling face-first into the stove.

Tony whipped around incredulously. “What the fuck?” He asked, “Thor, what are you-”

“How could you wait so long?” Thor asked him, pointing an angry finger, “what would you have done if he had fallen to the curse? I thought you cared for him, Tony!”

Tony and Steve both pulled faces of varying incredulity. “I’m not sure I… I don’t understand this,” Steve said weakly, shaking his head and turning to Tony. Do you? Do you understand this?”

Tony narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. “Thor, sneezing is not a curse,” he said. 

“Well, maybe not the eruption itself,” Thor snapped, “But the removal of one’s soul immediately afterward damn well is!”

There was a long pause. Thor smelt Tony’s eggs begin to burn on the stove.

And then both of them began to snort. 

“What?” Thor asked, irritated now. “Is this a joke to you?”

“Oh, Thor, I really love you,” Tony said, stepping out of Steve’s grip and then patting him on the shoulder. Thor curled his lip and then turned to Steve, but the man was just smiling fondly, shaking his head.

“Uh, Thor,” Steve said, “I’m not sure who told you this, but you don’t… your souls don’t go anywhere when you sneeze. I promise.”

Thor froze, eyes widening in surprise. “Yes they do.”

“No, they really don’t. As someone has had many of his sneezes un-blessed, I can assure you, I’m pretty sure my soul is still intact,” Steve explained, the amusement evident in his voice. “Thor, buddy, how many people have you blessed like that?”

He thought about it for a moment, and then turned to them. “Roughly three hundred,” he stated dumbly. He couldn’t believe this. So… sneezes were not cursed? There was no horrible punishment for those who went unblessed?

Steve and Tony just burst out laughing again, unable to help themselves. Thor stood there for three or four seconds, before wordlessly holding out his hand. His hammer smashed through the opposing wall. 

“I am going to fucking kill Clint Barton.”

AO3 /// donate to my ko-fi! 

anonymous asked:

Peter Parker and Tony Stark + hugs?

“You ever heard of a thing called the hug and fly?”

Peter froze, barely resisting the urge to turn away from the current situation as he heard the voice of the Iron Man modulators ringing through the street.

Well. That certainly was a relief. Peter had been slightly concerned about the circle of enhanced and furious soldiers who were currently all pointing their scary weapons directly at his face. He grinned at the looks which spread through the Circle of Villainy once Tony had let his presence be known- most of them similar to ones of terror and/or resignation.

(He kinda wished they’d give him those looks. All he got was mild annoyance and rolling eyes.)

“I can guess,yeah ” Peter replied, and everyone turned to him again- apparently all getting the same idea at the same moment, which, unfortunately, appeared to involve trying to shoot him in the fucking head-

Thankfully, no heads were removed in the making of this superhero- because suddenly Peter felt the air whip around him as Tony landed on the concrete in front of him, arms immediately coming up to clutch around Peter’s waist. There were maybe 0.1 seconds in which Peter had to prepare himself, before suddenly he was being launched into the sky at a speed which sent his stomach plummeting into his shoes.

He yelled out in surprise and panic, arms immediately coming up and clutching at the shoulder plates. There was a cracking noise, and he heard Tony sigh through the voice mod. “Can you go a single week without causing trouble, Parker? Maybe? Just for me?”

“Hey, hey, you were the one who asked me to hold them in the first place,” Peter grumbled, as Tony flew them into an arc, directing them back down to earth.

“I asked you to web them up, spiderboy, not start an argument with them over the goddamn ethics of their drug-testing process,” Tony said wearily.

“But I just wanted to know why-”

“They wave alien-enhanced weaponry about and sell Heroin, Peter, do you think they give a fuck if they kill some pigs in the process?” Tony slowed their descent and righted them both, hovering for a second before finally cutting the engines and landing them on the roof of some building down the street, “anyway, it’s sorted now. SHIELD have them surrounded. If you want, you can spend your free time harassing them some more back at HQ.”

Peter hopped off Tony’s feet, smiling and yanking off his mask. Tony did the same- relatively speaking, anyway- pulling back his helmet so that he could give Peter a better view of his unimpressed face.

“Thanks for the hug thing,” Peter said cheerily, waving as he began to turn away.

“That- that wasn’t a hug, it was a - it was a tactical manoeuvre,” Tony spluttered, and Peter just grinned, turning back to him for a moment in order to raise his eyebrows.

“It felt like a hug to me,” he said with a smug little shrug of his shoulders, watching gleefully as Tony scoffed, stepping fully out of his suit as he folded his arms.

“Uh, I think I would know if I was giving you a hug.”

“I think I would know if I was being hugged.”

“You obviously don’t, you’re a kid. Kids don’t know anything.”

“Did you not know anything when you were my age?”

Tony scoffed again. “You think I was ever a kid? I came out like this, Parker.”

“You’re so weird,” Peter pulled a face, “and wrong. Because that was totally a hug. You literally called it ‘the hug and fly’.”

Tony groaned in annoyance, throwing his hands up into the sky. “You’re so annoying. You wanna know what a hug looks like? Really? Come here then, spiderass, I’ll show you a fucking hug.”

Peter just laughed as Tony stormed forward and embraced him in what had to be the angriest hug ever. The look on his face was priceless, but his hands were surprisingly soft as he pulled Peter in by the shoulders and let his cheek rest against the top of Peter’s head.

They stood like that for a few seconds; Peter unable to help himself from leaning forward and hugging back, his hands coming to rest against Tony’s back before whispering “how difficult are you finding it to stand that high on your tiptoes in order to look taller than me?”

Tony turned immediately on his heel and walked away. “I fucking hate you.”

“No, you don’t!” 

“Yes I do!”

Peter couldn’t stop laughing as Tony just kept walking until he got back to the suit, not turning around even once as he stepped into his suit. “Tony, you’ve gone in facing the wrong way,” he called out helpfully.

“Don’t care! Not looking at you! You’re a fucking demon!”


Tony flew off blindly before he could finish, wavering wildly in the sky as he tried to pilot his suit whilst facing backward.
Peter just laughed and laughed and laughed.

anonymous asked:

I will build you a fucking shrine if you write peter coming out as a bi to tony and tony being like, "hell yeah me too"!!!!!! (I'll probably cry happy tears too)

Okay. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

He could do this. He could do this. It was all going to be fine. He could do this. 

Fuck. How the hell was anyone supposed to do this?

He checked his watch for the fifteenth time that minute. Tony was currently 12 seconds late. But he was always late, so this was fine. It didn’t mean anything. He was just caught up again. Which was normal. 

Unless he’s found out and now hates me and is going to take the suit away and yell at me and never speak to me ever ever again-

“God, Peter, pull yourself together,” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair and then clasping it into a fist in his lap. It was all going to be okay. It was. He just needed to keep breathing.

Fuck. Why was he even here? Why had he called Tony in the first place? Take an hour of your day please, Mr Stark, I need to tell you something that I’ve only just found out myself and is probably something you don’t care about at all anyway-

This was stupid. He should have just waited until it could come up in casual conversation, not….whatever this was. Pulling Tony out of his busy day in order to tell him this stupid thing was…well, it was stupid! 

God, his hands were shaking.

What if Tony reacted badly? What if he got angry? What if…

what if he never wanted anything to do with Peter again?

It happened. He knew it happened. He’d heard all the horror stories. Kids, kicked out of homes by parents who had loved them unconditionally before. Put on the streets because they loved the wrong people.

Not that Tony would ever do that. Peter was scared, but he wasn’t stupid. For starters, Peter didn’t even live with Tony anyway. 
Well. He hung out with Tony in his workshop after school more often than not, and occasionally slept there if Aunt May was doing the nightshift, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t deal without it. He’d been fine before Tony came along.

But that wouldn’t even happen. He was making this out to be bigger than it was. Tony was cool. Tony would be fine. And even if he didn’t like it, he knew that New York still needed Peter on side, so he probably wouldn’t take the suit back, or kick him out. 


Suddenly, there was a four-beat knock on the door, and Peter practically flew off the couch in his living room from the surprise.

Okay. Okay. Showtime. 

It was going to be fine.

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anonymous asked:

A fluffy 35 SteveTony if possible? 💛

Steve’s home was full of puppies.

“They were going to shut the shelter down, Steve!” Tony told him, tugging on his hand pleadingly and holding an absolutely tiny tiny Springer Spaniel puppy in the crook of his arm, “and if the dogs couldn’t find a home they’d be put down and I saw them and I couldn’t just leave them, could I?”

He blinked, looking down as a dark brown sausage-dog toddled up and started sniffing his leg. If he was being completely honest, this wasn’t even the weirdest thing he’d ever come home to- but it was definitely a bit of surprise, especially when the last he’d seen of his husband, he’d been sleeping soundly in bed and hadn’t looked ready to stir for a good few hours. It had been six in the morning when Steve had left, was now 10, and in those four hours Tony had managed to acquire-

“18 puppies,” Steve told him blankly, “we have eighteen puppies in the Avengers Tower. I… Tony, I left you for barely even a whole morning. How….”

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If you survive First Impressions, you’re good to go.

Peter first met his daddy’s new friend when he accidentally crashed his motorbike into a wall.

In all fairness, a little bit of that might have been his fault. He’d been running down the road to try and chase after the important papers he and his daddy had been working on together, and might not have been looking exactly where he’d been going as he neared the corner of the street. It was a quiet road, though! There weren’t usually bikes or cars or anything! 

The first thing Peter thought when he saw the bike veering around the bend and straight toward Peter was ‘my daddy’s going to kill me if he finds out I didn’t follow all his rules about being safe on the roads’. The second, of course, was ‘this isn’t going to go well for me’ and then, finally, the third; ‘hm- I didn’t know bikes could turn that quickly.’

He watched, mildly curious, as there was a muffled yell through the helmet and then a sudden, loud scratching noise as the person slammed on the brakes and spun the bike around. Peter was close enough to get a few bits of gravel in his face, and he winced, shutting his eyes against the sharp bits of rock that flew off the road. He heard the bike continue to rev wildly, before there was an ominous crunching noise and the sound of tyres skidding over concrete.

Whoops. His daddy really was going to kill him.

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