Something more from divorcee au please??? my family is starving the crops are dying
You know I stop working on everything else to update this right lol
Tony heard a knock on the door and froze, unconsciously
clutching Peter tighter to his chest. He’d just—just recently gotten a vile
voicemail from Stone saying he was coming for Peter. Tony had, of course, sent
the voicemail to Pepper who had passed it on to Natasha, but then Natasha had
called him with an ominous, ‘Batten down the hatches, Tony,’ and he’d been a
nervous wreck all day. And now someone was here.
“Daddy, huwts!” Peter whined.
Tony gasped quietly and loosened his grip. “Sorry,
Petie-Pie.” He pressed a few kisses to his cheek for good measure, and the toddler
giggled reluctantly. Tony looked around nervously as the knock came again. “I’m—I’m
coming, just a second!” Spying the closet, he hurried toward it. “Okay, Peter,
you know how we talked about how bad people might be coming after us?”
His heart broke when Peter’s face went from a reluctant
smile to a furrowed brow and frown. “I gotta hide and be quiet.”
“Quiet as a mouse,” Tony agreed, opening the door and
carefully setting him on the floor. “And what do you do if someone who isn’t me
“You scream so loud,”
Tony said as Peter crawled to the back of the closet. “And then you keep screaming. I’m going to leave the
door open a crack, honey. Remember, be quiet!”
Peter nodded and covered his mouth with both hands. It
killed Tony a little to close the door on his face until the tiniest sliver of
light caught his eye. Peter should have never had to deal with this, have to be
taught to be quiet and hide because someone might come and take him against his
and Tony’s wills.
The knock came a third time, and Tony took a shuddering
breath before he went to get it. His heart leapt into his throat when he found
a tall, broad man standing on the stoop, face set in a scowl. He looked like he
could tie Tony into a pretzel and then throw him across a football field. Tony wished
he’d thought to grab his gun before he’d answered the door.
“These are for you,” the man said gruffly, shoving a plate
Tony had no choice but to grab them. Well, at least he could
use the plate as a weapon now. “I—Oh, cookies. Um. Thank you.” Maybe this guy
wasn’t a thug.
“Gluten, egg, and nut free,” the man grunted.
Tony frowned. Maybe this man was a thug and was actually trying to kill him via bland food. “You
just sucked all the fun out of these cookies.”
“Steve didn’t know if Peter had allergies,” the man grunted.
Tony stared at him, confused. Then it hit him—Steve. Rhodey’s hot blond neighbor. And
this—this must be Steve’s grumpy boyfriend. It figured that Steve’s boyfriend
would be equally attractive. What had Steve said his name was? Something kinda
dumb, if Tony was being honest.
“I’m Bucky,” the man said, thrusting his hand at him.
Tony took it mostly on instinct. Right. Bucky. What an awful name. “I’m Tony. Oh!” He shoved the plate back
at Bucky and rushed back over to the closet, pulling the door open hurriedly. “Peter,
it’s alright. It’s just one of our neighbors.”
Peter wiped at his eyes and sniffled a little before holding
his arms out to him. Tony plucked him up and clutched him to his chest, running
a hand up and down his back and murmuring apologies.
Once Peter had calmed down, Tony turned, embarrassed. Bucky
looked like he’d swallowed a lemon. “Sorry.”
“Jesus,” Bucky said, appalled, and Tony flinched a little. “I
just—No wonder Natasha hired me.”
Tony blinked at him. “What.”
“Natasha, your lawyer?” Bucky replied, raising an eyebrow. “She
hired me to protect you.”
Tony narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. “Natasha didn’t
tell me anything about you.”
“Yeah, that mighta been a secret,” Bucky said after a
pause. “But man—you have your kid hiding in the closet in case someone comes
after you. No wonder she texted me and told me to introduce myself to you.”
Tony stared at him warily, unable to help his disbelief. Why
hadn’t Natasha told him about Bucky? Why hadn’t Steve?
“Listen,” Bucky sighed, rolling his eyes. “I can prove it. I’ll
call Natasha and put it on speakerphone.”
“Auntie ‘tash!” Peter exclaimed, throwing his hands up.
Tony sputtered. “Wha—Peter,
not every woman named Natasha is going to be your aunt!”
“What,” came Natasha’s
sharp voice through the phone.
“Except this time she is,” Tony added, confused, as Peter
“Tony? Peter? Bucky what the—” There was a cough
as Natasha caught herself. “…heck. I said
introduce yourself to Tony, not spill that I hired you to be his long-distance
“He had his kid in the closet,” Bucky replied, and Tony fought
the urge to wilt. He wasn’t sorry for trying to protect his son, even if it sounded
“Auntie ‘tash!” Peter exclaimed, leaning toward the phone,
and Bucky gamely held the phone closer to him. “Auntie ‘tash, I was reawy
quiet! As a mouse!”
Natasha’s voice softened into a deep, sweet coo. “Did you, darling? I’m so proud of you. You’re
a good boy to listen to your daddy.”
Peter blushed and covered his face.
“Aw,” Tony said, smiling reluctantly. “What do we say when
people compliment us baby?”
“Thank you,” Peter mumbled, embarrassed.
said after a moment. “I wanted Bucky’s
involvement to be secret for a while so he wouldn’t spook you or anything, but…”
She sighed. “But I guess Stone spooked
you more. Listen, Bucky’s good. He’s great.
He hasn’t failed me yet and he’s not going to fail me now.”
“Yeah?” Tony asked skeptically.
“I’ll kill him myself
if he fails,” Natasha told him seriously.
Tony stared at the phone. “…I think you’re a mafia don,” he
Natasha snorted. “You
always think I’m a mafia don. I’m not. I don’t have time to rule the criminal
“It frightens me that that is the only reason why,” Tony admitted.
“Listen, I have a
client meeting that started a few minutes ago. I should probably get to them since
they’re paying me. If Stone leaves you anymore voicemails, send them to me,”
she ordered sternly. “Especially if they’re
threatening like the last one. Worst case scenario, I move in with you guys and
“Yaaaay!” Peter crowed, flailing. “Auntie ‘tash!”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t
you,зайчик?” Natasha cooed. “Once this
big dumb trial is over, I’m taking you and your daddy out on a picnic and stuffing
you with sweets.”
Tony’s groan could just barely be heard under Peter’s
“Take care of them,
Barnes, or I’m going to skin you alive,” Natasha added cheerfully.
Tony was appalled, but Bucky didn’t look fazed in the
“G’bye,” Bucky said, then hung up, and then thrust the plate
of cookies at them again. “Please don’t make me eat these.”
“I don’t want them!” Tony exclaimed, before his manners
caught up with him.
Peter grabbed two cookies and jammed one into his mouth. Then
he let out a disgusted ‘bleh!’ and spit it out, dropping the other to the
floor. He looked up at Bucky, betrayed.
“It’s not my fault!” Bucky defended immediately. “Steve didn’t
want me to kill you with allergens!”
“You’ve made sad disks is what you’ve done,” Tony said, the
corner of his lip quirking up. He took a cookie just so Bucky would stop
looking so constipated and bit into it. “…This is the driest shit I’ve ever
“The batter was awful, too,” Bucky admitted. He stared at
the plate of cookies before turning it over, watching them fall to the ground. “Oh
no, I’ve dropped them.”
Tony covered his mouth to hide his smile.
Peter pointed at him accusingly. “You did that on puwpose!”
Bucky seemed to ponder this. “…Yeah, but they tasted like
Peter pointed at him a moment longer before letting his hand
fall, conceding reluctantly.
Bucky stared at him for a long time before he asked, “Do you
have any allergies?”
Tony opened his mouth, then closed it when he realized he
was talking to Peter. When Peter looked up at him unsurely, he quietly said, “You
know your no-no foods, Peter.”
Peter nodded sharply and turned back to Bucky. “Twee nuts.”
“Tree nuts?” Bucky’s brow furrowed. “Glad I didn’t make
peanut butter cookies then.”
“Oh, he can have peanut butter,” Tony cut in, bouncing Peter
so he’d laugh, and smiling when Peter let out a happy shriek. “Peanuts are a
ground nut. He can’t have nuts like walnuts, almonds, pecans. Can’t have pine nuts
either. I tell you, my mother rolled over in her grave when I adopted a kid that
can’t eat pesto.”
“Pwesto!” Peter exclaimed, throwing his hands up, then
patted at Tony’s face. “Down, Daddy! Down!”
“Okay, okay,” Tony said, setting him down, and watched as
Peter toddled off to the coffee table to continue their puzzle. Once sure that
he was occupied, Tony turned back to Bucky, belatedly adding, “Oh, uh, did—did you
wanna come inside?”
Bucky looked down at the cookies on the floor, then back up
at him. “No.”
“Alright.” Tony stared up at him for a moment before he
asked, “Are you really as good as Natasha thinks?”
“I taught her everything she knows,” Bucky began, then
stopped himself. “I taught her most
of the things she knows. The rest she developed to kill me and take my power.”
Tony giggled reluctantly. “That’s awful.”
“Well, she’s a lawyer.” Bucky fiddled with the plate,
frowning down at his shoes, before looking back up at him. “Listen, I just—I want
you to know, I’ve got your back. I’ve done this for years, even worked for
Rumlow for a while, so I know what to expect from him. I’m gonna take care of
you guys.” He glanced at Peter, turning the plate in circles in his hands. “You won’t have
to hide your kid in a closet ever again.”
Tony flinched and turned to look at Peter again. Normal kids
didn’t have to learn how to hide and be very quiet. Normal kids didn’t have to
worry about someone other than their daddy grabbing them and taking them away.
Peter deserved better. And he didn’t even know it.
“Hey,” Bucky said quietly. “You’re protecting your kid. I’m
gonna protect both of you.” He reached out his hand, and Tony held his out
dumbly, jumping when something cold was pressed to his palm. “You think you’re
in immediate danger, you come over to hide. It’ll buy you some time. Steve
knows and he’s ready for you. He stays home most days anyway. Okay?”
Tony stared at the key in his hand, then curled his
trembling fingers over it. Who knew that when he’d served Tiberius with divorce
papers, he’d have to go hide in his best friend’s neighbors’ house? God, he
wished he could just go back and change everything.
“Hey,” Bucky said, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey. As bad as this may sound, you’re not he first guy whose spouse is a
complete psycho. I’ve worked a lot of these types o’ cases.”
That did make him feel better, in a strange way. Sometimes Tony
felt like he was the crazy one, with
the way Tiberius treated him, like he somehow deserved it. Logically, he knew
that that wasn’t the case. He’d—he’d suffered a lot of gaslighting in the
relationship. His therapist said so. (And it hurt to know that he’d needed a
therapist to get away from Tiberius; that his therapist might need to testify
on his behalf. He felt so weak, that he’d needed someone to tell him ‘you don’t
deserve to be hit, Tony.’)
“I’ve got your back,” Bucky repeated, patting his shoulder,
then turned to leave.
Tony sniffed and hurriedly wiped a tear from his cheek. “I
hope—” He cleared his throat. “I hope you don’t have too many of those awful
Bucky looked pained. “I’m gonna make Stevie eat ‘em.”
Tony couldn’t help a laugh at the image that came to mind of
Steve trying to choke down those dry-ass cookies.
Imagine the first time Oliver had a craving for peanut butter post-breakup and realized he no longer had any reason not to eat it because he didn’t have to worry about Felicity’s allergy anymore.
Now imagine the first time Felicity saw Oliver eating peanut butter post-breakup.
Are you crying with me yet? No? Okay how about this?
“Is that peanut butter?” Felicity asked, her brow wrinkled in confusion as she watched him scoop a spoonful out of a jar.
Oliver spun to face her, plunking the spoon back into the mostly full container. “What?”
“Nothing, you just… you never eat peanut butter.”
“Oh,” he said, glancing awkwardly down at his snack before clearing his throat. “Yeah, I haven’t had it in a long time. I just had a craving and, you know, Susan isn't—”
He cut himself off, biting on his lip painfully to keep the words inside. She didn’t need to hear that. But from the sudden realization that crossed her face she’d gleaned the end of that sentence all on her own.
“She’s not allergic,” she said, looking at the jar with pinched lips and a sharp stinging in her chest. She knew she shouldn’t feel this way. It wasn’t fair, to either of them. It was just a stupid jar of peanut butter; it didn’t mean anything anyway, but…
“I don’t really like it that much,” he said suddenly and she looked back at him, at the repentant expression of his face.
“The peanut butter,” he explained. “I guess I lost my taste for it. It’s okay, but it’s not as good as…” He trailed off, the words on the tip of his tongue. Other things. You. Instead he said, “as I remember.”