tony grins

Tony telling (lecturing) Peter not to spend all night in the workshop because he needs his full eight hours of sleep and good meals. He begins doing this when he catches Peter stumbling out of the workshop at eight in the morning and finds out from Friday that the only thing Peter’s eaten is half a sandwich and over five cans of energy drinks. 

Tony seems himself in this kid way more than he thought. 

imagine it’s a wet, cold, rainy sunday

and steve wakes up to the sound of rain on the windows, and tony warm and cuddly and curled into steve’s neck, fast asleep and snoring very quietly. steve turns his head and kisses the soft warm skin of tony’s forehead.

he can hear peter in his cot bed in the next room, singing a quiet baby song to himself and playing with his toys. steve smiles to himself but doesn’t move, because peter’s happy and tony is a warm trusting weight along steve’s side. he wants tony to sleep for as long as possible, because tony’s been burning himself out lately, looking after peter.

steve doesn’t expect the quiet to last for long, of course, because while peter doesn’t mind playing by himself, he’s got a sixth sense about when his dads are awake. sure enough, soon he hears little scampering feet and muffled giggles, and then peter’s soft brown head appears at the side of the bed, chubby fingers tugging insistently at the covers.

‘papa!’ he says. ‘up!’

steve smiles. ‘morning, petey-pumpkin,’ he murmurs. ‘shh-h, daddy’s sleeping. only quiet people allowed on the bed, okay?’

‘i be quiet,’ peter says instantly, in a loud whisper. steve feels tony’s mouth curve in a little smile against his neck, but his eyes stay closed, his body relaxed and soft. steve smooths his hand down tony’s back, and then reaches out with his other arm to scoop peter up on to the bed with them.

‘up you come,’ he whispers, 'remember, no loud voices.’

peter nods solemnly and cuddles into steve’s other side, propping his tatty brown teddy on steve’s chest and tucking a thumb into his mouth. steve strokes his hair.

soon, peter’s thumb pops wetly out of his mouth. 'daddy sleeping,’ he says, leaning forward so he can see tony’s face.

'that’s right,’ steve tells him. 'daddy’s real tired. he needs his sleep.’

peter climbs over onto steve’s chest so he can get close to tony, gently patting tony’s arm with one little paw. he curls up between them both, looking up at steve. 'i help,’ he says. 'i help daddy sleep, papa, see? i help.’

steve chuckles. 'yes, you are helping, it’s very good,’ he says, tapping peter gently on the nose. 'can you hear the rain, sweetheart?’

peter listens, head tipped to one side. 'pap-pap-pap-pap-pap,’ he says. 'makes sounds.’

'yes, it does,’ steve says. 'maybe if you’re real good we can go up top with daddy later and play in the puddles. Would you like that?’

'YES,’ peter says gleefully, forgetting to be quiet. 'puddles! papa, i love puddles. i splash. i splash in my red boots, papa?’

'yes, your red rainboots,’ steve confirms, smiling. 'but quiet voices, remember?’ he looks down at tony, running a hand over tony’s messy curls; tony’s eyes slowly open, hazy and soft with sleep.

'what’s all this about puddles?’ he murmurs.

'daddy!’ peter says delightedly. 'wakey up! look papa!’ he flings himself on tony, wrapping chubby arms around him and nuzzling his forehead into tony’s chest. 'lovey lovey lovey,’ he sing-songs. 'lovey huggy.’

'love you too, baby boy,’ tony says, his voice morning-rough, and he slides an arm around peter and cuddles him.

steve strokes a gentle thumb over tony’s jaw. 'morning, beautiful,’ he says, and bends down to kiss tony’s cheek, ghosting his lips up to drop a second tiny kiss on the tip of tony’s nose. tony scrunches it, smiling, and then leans up to press warm sleep-soft lips to steve’s chin.

peter pops his head up at that. 'i kiss too,’ he says earnestly, and then plants a big wet one on steve’s neck. 'i kiss, papa. i kiss you!’ he giggles and then falls on tony again. 'i kiss my daddy,’ he says into tony’s shoulder. 'i kiss you, daddy. i doing kisses.’

'i can feel them,’ tony tells him, grinning up at steve. he runs his fingers through peter’s hair, and kisses his forehead.

and steve puts his arms round both of them, a warm safe circle, holding them close. later, they’ll get up, and steve will make rainy-day pancakes for breakfast while tony dresses peter, and there will be splashing in puddles on top of the tower, and cuddling with blankets and hot chocolate on the couch afterwards, and it will be wonderful, everything steve has ever wanted in the world.

but for now - tony is soft and warm and comfortably tucked into steve’s side; and peter is sleepy again, clutching steve’s shirt, his other small hand gently petting the side of tony’s face. and steve looks down at them both, and he’s simply happy.

'love you,’ he whispers, and tony smiles softly against his shoulder.

'love you back.’

(more ficlets under the 'stevetony ficlet’ tag on my blog)

(might do a follow up later with the puddle splashing)

Best Friends (Part 5)

Summary: Meeting in college, you and Bucky strike up a friendship. And that is all there is, until Bucky realizes he’s in love with you. But it might just be a little too late for that.

Word Count: 498

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

A/N: Super short part but it’s get exciting!!

Originally posted by tonystarkz


Thrumming with excitement, Bucky smiled widely as he looked up at the large screens that listed all the arriving flights. You had texted him the previous night, giving him details of your arrival, and he had promised to pick you up and take you out to eat before dropping you off your house. You had texted back a smiley face and Bucky didn’t sleep for the whole night, trying to figure out a way to tell you his feelings without making things too awkward if you didn’t reciprocate them.

Just then, the overhead speakers announced the arrival of your flight and Bucky stood right next to the conveyor belt that would be carrying your luggage, ready to take it out for you. He knew your suitcases by now, being that there were plenty of times that you took vacations together. The thought of this made Bucky smile fondly. Vacations together, eating lunch, calling each other often… How could he have been so blind? You acted the married couple all the time. It was only right that this friendship evolved into something deeper over the years.

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Fathers Day for Tony (Quick Fic)

For @shitshitshitshitwhy who asked for an Awkward!Spidey trying to say Happy Fathers Day to Tony

Tom Holland is Peter, of course RDJ is Tony.

*********************

Peter had been trying to talk to Tony all day.

First in the elevator that morning, as they headed up to Tony’s mandatory Sunday breakfast with the team. Peter had been thrilled to catch Tony alone for once, and had reached in his backpack for the small package and card he had bought yesterday, only to turn around and see Tony on his phone, talking loudly about the pillows on his bed and why they just weren’t fluffy enough, and yes he was aware pillows deflated, but he needed perpetually fluffy pillows.

Peter had just sighed and put the package away.

>>>>>>>>>

After breakfast when Tony and Happy were arguing over who to invite to the birthday party for Clint that weekend, Peter tried to talk to him again.

“Um, Mr Stark?” Peter cleared his throat nervously. “Mr Stark if you have a moment–”

“Do you think it would be obnoxious to decorate in purple?” Tony was saying and Happy nodded emphatically.

“Tony, Clint hates purple.”

“But Clint wears purple.” Tony countered.

“Mr. Stark.” Peter tried again. “I need like two seconds, just real quick.”

“Hey Underoos.” Tony said with a bright smile and Peter flushed a little in happiness. “Do you think Clint would shoot me with an arrow if I decorated his party in purple because Happy thinks—”

“I’ll come back.” Peter said dejectedly, and waved, completely unnoticed by them.

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anonymous asked:

do you have any fluffy peter & tony headcanons or anything tbh because im having a horrible day and im so anxious i feel like im gonna explode

(Okay I told myself I was gonna take a break from writing today but u know what. U deserve Good Tony and Peter Writing so,,,,I’m gonna do my best with that. Hope u feel better soon my friend, and I hope this helps in some way x)



His hands were shaking against the prompt cards he held in an iron-clad grip.


It was stupid, really. Ridiculous. He’d battled monsters and stopped bombs and yet here he was, getting worked up over a damn science presentation.

And there wasn’t even any reason why. He was good at science. Brilliant, if he did say so himself. And the whole school was full of science nerds like him, so it wasn’t as if he was going to get laughed off stage, either.


So why the damn hell did he feel so…awful?


Pull yourself together, Spiderman, he told himself, shaking his head a little and peaking out from behind the wings to watch the speech that was currently being given by another of his classmates. It was a mandatory thing in order for everyone to get a grade. Each of them had to present an idea or a theory to the rest of their year and put points that were for and against it. At the end, other kids asked questions, drilled you, probably started giggling and whispering if you couldn’t answer one of their godawful comments-

Ugh. He felt vaguely sick.


He’d been on edge the whole day just thinking about it. There were, what, a hundred faces, maybe more, in the audience? Including Flash, who was sat at the back, just waiting for Peter to slip up so he could laugh loudly or boo or something.

He could barely even think straight. His mind was all fuzzy and his palms were too sweaty. It felt like his lungs weren’t working properly anymore.

This sucked.


“Hey kid,”


Peter jerked wildly as someone stepped up to his shoulder. God, he’d been so out of it he hadn’t even heard them, what the hell was wrong with him-

“I- uh, hi Mr-” he turned, looking over and expecting to see a teacher. 

“Tony?” he said incredulously, as his brain registered the tinted yellow glasses and carefully sculpted van dyke.

“The one and only,” Tony replied absently, as he peered out through the wings and looked at the boy onstage, “you next?” He asked.

“I…what-you-how?” Peter spluttered, “what are you doing here?”

Tony looked at him, before shrugging. If Peter wasn’t mistaken, he almost looked sheepish. “You mentioned this thing, uh, a few days ago in the labs? I didn’t have anything on, so I though I’d come, show a bit of moral support, you know the drill,” he muttered. “How you feeling? You ready? Nervous?”

Peter opened his mouth, but the assurance failed to come out. He was a notoriously bad liar, after all.
Plus, his vocal cords didn’t really seem to be working very well right now. Which, considering what he was about to go up and do, was Very Very Bad.

Tony looked him up and down, noting the quivering hands, slightly green face and general expression of terror before sighing and pulling the sunglasses off his nose in order to place them on the bridge of Peter’s. “Okay, Peter, today you are not Peter. Today, you are me, and I am about to give a heart-raising, mind-blowing, showstopping speech on…” he peered down, reading the top of Peter’s card, “effective and innovative designs to contribute toward a greener society,” 

Peter just nodded, looking up at Tony through the yellow lenses.

“First thing,” Tony began, raising a hand and wandering backward, before gesturing around the place, “you gotta own the room, kid. Movement is important. Hands, feet, eyes- don’t just stand there like a lemon and read off the prompts. You wanna get a good grade? You engage the audience,” he stepped forward, pointing at Peter’s eye, and then his own, “eye contact. Always do the eye contact. Kinda terrifying, admittedly, but you only need to do it for a second. You’re not gonna stare em down like they’re trying to rob a bank here, okay, you’re just catching their eye. Showing them you’re focused, like you’re talking to them specifically. Keep moving around, look at everyone.”

He stopped. Grabbed Peter’s shoulder. “So, Mr Stark, how do you begin your speech?”

Peter stopped, caught off guard like a rabbit in the headlights. “Uhhhhh-”

“Okay, well for starters, I definitely don’t do that,” Tony shook his head, pushing the glasses a little further up Peter’s nose as they began to slip down. “You wanna begin with something simple. Casual. This isn’t a funeral service. You’re just putting an idea across. ‘hello everybody’ will suffice. I’d say open with a joke, but I don’t think you’re ready for that yet.”

Peter had to agree on that one. He took another look over to the side, and noticed the boy was beginning to wrap up. 

Oh, hell. He was next.

Tony noticed, too, and he let his other hand rest on Peter’s shoulder as well, so that he was gripping Peter between both hands. “Listen, kid. Stick to the basics. Eye contact. Movement. Keep it light, and don’t focus too hard on individuals. It’ll only freak you out. You’re gonna do great, kid. Honestly, you’re definitely the smartest one out there, you got nothing to worry about.”

“People are gonna laugh,” Peter muttered, looking down at his feet. God, Flash- Flash was gonna be a total ass, he could predict it perfectly. Peter would pause, just for a moment, and Flash would do something stupid like laugh or make a stupid noise and then it would throw Peter off-

“No-one’s gonna laugh, Kid,” Tony said, before his eyes narrowed. “Unless there’s someone who’s planning on ruining it for you. Is there?”

“I dunno, Flash said some stuff earlier, but… I dunno,” Peter mumbled, biting his lip. He wished he’d been ill today. Or HYDRA had decided to attack a Macy’s or something. At least that would have been a genuine excuse.

“Flash, huh?” Tony mused quietly, peering out into the audience, “greasy looking pussy at the back, right?”

Peter laughed nervously, nodding. “Uh, yeah, that’s the one.”

Tony pulled a face, and then nodded to himself. “Okay. Okay, cool. Well listen, I’ll make sure Flash isn’t a problem, alright? Don’t worry about him.”


A sudden wave of applause filled the auditorium, and signalled Peter’s turn up. 

“Big breath. Come on, you’ll kick ass. You’re Spiderman. Or you can be me, just for a few minutes, if that’ll make it easier,” Tony assured him, patting his cheek  and smiling.


“-And now, it is my great pleasure to present to you, Peter Parker!” The Principal announced, and another round of applause burst out.

Okay. Showtime.


“Wait, kid, sunglasses!” Tony caught him before he could move, sliding them back off his face with a grin, “they’re a tad too big for you. Don’t want them sliding off whilst you’re deep in the middle of solving the world’s energy crisis.”

Peter huffed out a nervous laugh, and then did as Tony said, taking a long, deep breath before turning away and walking slowly toward the main stage.


He could do this. Tony did it all the time. He could be Tony, just for five and a half minutes, right? Tony had said he could.


His hands were still shaking a little as he stepped in front of everyone, but he felt a little braver. A little prouder. Maybe even confident.


At the back of the hall, he watched Tony slip in through the doors, more inconspicuous than Peter had ever seen him as he wandered toward the back row and grabbed a chair, leaning over the back of it and whispering something into-

Peter sighed, unable to hold back the little grin of satisfaction as Flash’s head turned to look up at him, eyes widening in a hilarious fashion as he realised, yet again, he was being told off by Tony Stark.

It was even more amusing to watch the colour drain from his face as Tony continued to whisper in his ear. He watched as Flash nodded a little jerkily, and then Tony smiled, before stepping back and leaning against the back wall, right in the middle where Peter could see him.


He grinned up when Peter made eye contact, and Peter smiled back.


He could do this.




“You did it!” 


Peter turned, smile on his face as he watched Tony jog up toward him, hands raised in a thumbs-up as he grinned over. Luckily, the presentation had been at the last period, and so Peter was free to get the fuck out and finally relax for the first time that day.

“Yeah- I think it went…well,” Peter admitted happily.

 Tony pulled a face, letting his arm fall across Peter’s shoulders and squeeze. “Uhm, you did more than ‘well’, kid- you totally blew everyone else out of the water.”

“You didn’t even see everyone else, Tony.”

He felt the shrugging gesture Tony made beside him. “I’m gonna go ahead and assume here, kid. You were great. Very Tony Stark-ish. Except with less narcissism and more genuine-ness, y’know? Never would’ve guessed you were nervous.”

Peter grimaced. “I thought I was gonna throw up the entire time.”

“Well then, you are a remarkable actor, Mr Parker,” Tony told him, “hey, how about doing my speech for me this weekend at the charity gala I am being forcibly blackmailed into attending? I have a busy schedule of sleeping and eating and I don’t want it disturbed.”

Peter laughed, giving Tony a shove, “thanks, but if it’s all the same with you, I’m never going to give a speech ever again. That was crazy. Everyone stares at you. What the hell?”

“Yeah, when you’re the only person talking in a huge auditorium, people tend to do that,” Tony huffed, shaking his head, “so damn rude of them.”

“It really is,” Peter agreed, hiking his bag up a little further on to his shoulder before turning to tony, a grin beginning to form on his face. “Hey- what did you tell Flash, by the way?”

Tony tapped his nose secretively. “None of your business.”

“Aw, come on, I see him most, it’s more my business than yours.”

“Hey, maybe I just like him. Maybe I was having a catch up, Peter, huh? You’re not special, I might be secretly mentoring him, too.”

Peter rolled his eyes, shoving Tony playfully and then grabbing his arm before he went careering to the floor. “Whoops- superstrength.”

“That was a threat, wasn’t it? I feel threatened. Again. Physical threats, this time, too- it’s getting worse-”

“Tony,” Peter whined frustratedly, “please tell me.”

Tony stopped, hand half-way to reaching his car door before turning to look back at Peter. “I told him if he made a single sound, I’d hack the school system and turn all his A* into C’s,” he admitted, before adding “is that bad? I don’t know- I tend to threaten both adults and kids alike, what can I say, I’m all about equality,” 

Peter watched, smile on his face as Tony jumped into his car and pulled his shades back on. “You did good, kid. I’ll see you ‘round,” he said, shooting Peter another thumbs up before revving the engine and pulling out of the car park.

Peter watched, shaking his head fondly. He felt kinda exhausted- the day had been stressful as fuck, and it had taken it out of him. But hey- at least it was over. And at least it hadn’t turned into a full-blown panic attack, either. That would’ve just been embarrassing.

“Thanks, Tony,” Peter muttered, waving cheerily over at a still rather horrified looking Flash from across the road before beginning to make his way down the drive.



“Wait. You got a lift?”


Peter turned, watching as Tony reversed back to him and raised an eyebrow at him curiously from the open window.

“Sorry, I don’t get in cars with strangers,” Peter deadpanned, beginning to walk forward again, hiding a fond grin as Tony just rolled forward and followed him.

“Uhh,” Tony made a face, turning around and shuffling in his car for a second before pulling out something. It was a bag of kisses, a few of them already eaten, with the wrappers thrown back in the bag. “I got candy?”

Peter broke his deadpan stare a second later, in order to laugh. Tony was a fucking idiot, honestly. “Right, okay, I’ve been convinced,” he declared, before sliding over the bonnet and opening the door on the other side.

As soon as he’d fallen in, Tony flicked him on the ear. “Ow!” He yelped, looking betrayed.

“Don’t slide your dirty school jeans over my car, you heathen,” Tony scolded, before turning back to the road and stepping on accelerate. “And don’t touch my radio. We’re listening to my music, not yours.”

Peter groaned, “ugh, but your music taste is-”

“Unless you want to get forcibly removed from this vehicle, I suggest you quit running your mouth, boy,” 

Peter looked over to him. There was silence for a stretch, before Peter muttered, “Metallica sucks.”

“RIGHT,” Tony pulled his sunglasses off, chucking them at Peter’s chest and then moving his hand to the dash where all his modified features sat, “that’s it, you’re getting ejected, buh-bye demon child-”

“TONY NO I’M SORRY I DIDN’T M-”

Music Man

Bucky x Reader

Surprise, surprise! You open your big mouth to Tony Stark, and it gets around about your crush on a certain metal armed soldier. What happens when he finds out about it, and what will he do to get your attention?

Warnings: FLUFF. FLUUUUUUUUUFF.

Word Count: ~2200

A/N: Holy shit a writing?! YES. For @avengerofyourheart ‘s birthday! Happy birthday love, I’m sorry it’s late but I hope you love it nonetheless!!

Originally posted by natymms

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


   You sat in the kitchen, idly spinning your spoon with your finger in your coffee cup; your eyes focused on something else besides your breakfast in front of you. It was while he wasn’t looking (as always), but you just simply couldn’t help yourself.

   Bucky Barnes, in general, was a gorgeous man. Taunt muscle just teasing outlines underneath a tight t-shirt, a new black vibranium arm that had your mind wandering on how he would know how to use the damn thing; his hair pulled back in a bun to keep it off his neck from his run with Steve. Those eyes? Ugh, the blue killed you every time, making you weak in the knees. Of course, as soon as the man turned around from what he was doing, you’d quickly look down at your food like it was the most interesting thing in the world; only praying he hadn’t caught you ogling his assets.

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I’ve never done an ‘Imagine’ before so please bear with me. This little idea wouldn’t leave my head so I had to write it.

Originally posted by knightlley

Imagine you being best friends with Tony and Clay. You’re the one girl who’s either oblivious to all the cute boys around you and/or you’re the one girl who brushes off all flirtatious comments thrown at you. However, there is one boy who’s truly interested in you and he finally decides to make it known when Valentine’s Day rolls around.

Jeff X Reader

Walking through the school hall, you wrinkle your nose at the red and pink paper hearts adorning the walls. Valentine’s Day is just around the corner and posters advertise dollar carnations so you can buy your Valentine all he/she deserves. It’s not that you have anything against the Hallmark holiday, it’s just.. all so pink and definitely not one of your favorite colors.

You make it to gym, pasting on a frown as you trudge inside. Making a beeline for the coach, you pass over a note and wait patiently as it’s read. The coach scoffs, you bite back a smirk and then trudge over to the bleachers when the coach grunts in acknowledgement of having read the note before waving you off. When you stomp halfway up said bleachers, you let your book bag fall with a content sigh before laying down on your stomach on one of the bleacher seats while pillowing your head atop your crossed arms. 

“You look cozy,” you hear Tony’s familiar voice say. “What excuse is it this time?”

“Killer cramps and a heavy flow. I enjoy grossing out the coach.” Cracking open an eye, you see Tony decked out in gym wear sitting right in front of you, grinning. “Having a vagina really has it’s perks.”

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imagine superfamily in fluffy onesies.

tony gets them, bcs he’s a giant dork. baby peter is pooh bear and he looks so freaking adorable in his soft lil red and yellow bear suit that steve literally can’t handle it when he comes in and finds his two best boys curled up warm and cosy, playing pop the cheeks.

peter’s shrieking in excitement, sitting on tony’s stomach and clapping his chubby hands against tony’s puffed-out cheeks to make them pop, again and again. steve watches them quietly for a few minutes, his heart feeling so full and warm that it could burst.

then tony glances up and sees him, and his eyes light up. ‘daddy’s home!’ he says to peter, and swings him up in the air and comes over to steve.

that’s when steve sees that tony’s in a onesie too, and oh god, is he trying to kill his husband with the cuteness? tony’s onesie is orange and black, tiger striped, and tony’s bouncing up and down with peter in his arms, saying ‘onesie day! i’m tigger!’

‘tigger!’ peter yells.

‘no, you’re pooh,’ tony tells him. ‘pooh bear, red and gold, because they’re the best colours, aren’t they, pudding?’ tony always calls peter pudding, because he’s so fat and round.

steve laughs and opens his arms and pulls them both in, kissing peter’s downy head and the smiling corner of tony’s mouth. 'love you,’ he murmurs, and tony melts into him, onesie and all. peter wraps his little arms around steve’s neck for a hug, and steve holds them both, breathing in the quiet smell of his little family.

'there’s a onesie for you too,’ tony says, nestling into steve’s neck. he’s trying to hide a grin, and steve narrows his eyes at him and flips the hood over his face.

tony giggles. 'hey, stop it, you brute,’ he says, wrinkling his nose and pushing the hood out of his eyes. 'i had to get it made to fit, because you’re so freakishly big.’ he traces gentle little circles on steve’s chest with his fingers. 'you’ll love it.’

~

peter is pooh bear, and tony is tigger. so naturally, steve… is piglet.

he loves it.

~

'you’re adorable,’ steve tells tony later, when they’re all three snuggling together on the couch, peter sleepy and happy and sucking on his bottle, splayed out across steve’s chest.

tony grins where he’s tucked against steve’s neck, stroking peter’s silky hair with gentle fingers. 'says the giant man in a piglet onesie.’

steve kisses his forehead, nuzzling into tony’s warmth. 'i love the onesie,’ he says softly. and tony nestles against him, because they both know he really means i love you.

(more ficlets under the 'stevetony ficlet’ tag on my blog)

Moment (Prompt Fill)

An anon requested Tony faking his death and then coming back for Infinity War. I dont know if this is exactly what you wanted anon, but here it is!

Warnings: Super angsty, mentions of suicide (but no actual suicide).

This was hard to write, first part is hard to read. (3400 words)

**********************

Tony couldn’t pinpoint the moment he decided to die.

It was definitely sometime after Ultron though.

Sometime after that horrible AI had tried to take over everything, sometime after he and Thor literally put their lives on the line to try and save Sokovia and consequently the world. It was sometime after Pietro had died and Wanda had come home with them, broken and hurting and only a shell of herself after losing her brother. Sometime after JARVIS had…had…gone, and Vision had appeared.

And sometime after Steve had kissed him.

It hadn’t been a big deal, that first kiss–or at least it hadn’t started as a big deal.

Sometime post-Ultron and Steve had stormed into the lab and shoved Tony up against a wall and snapped that sometimes Tony made him “so angry” and that the resulting fallout from Sokovia was going to “change the entire world and not for the better” and that maybe the next time Tony “created a goddamn experiment” he could make sure it didn’t have a will of it’s own.

And then Steve had wrapped his arms around Tony and whispered that maybe next time Tony could “sit aside and let someone Steve didn’t care about so much offer his life in exchange for civilians”. And maybe next time Tony could be “a little less reckless”. And maybe next time Tony could—

But Steve hadn’t finished that sentence, because he had just kissed Tony instead. Just a short one- firm and no nonsense, just like the man himself.

Then he had made this soft desperate sound and dragged one hand through Tony’s hair and tilted his head back and kissed him again–and this time Tony’s knees were weak before they finally parted.

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The Counselors Are In

In which Steve and Tony from Avengers Assemble open a counseling service for all the Steves and Tonys across the multiverse. God knows they need it.
To celebrate #10yearsofstevetony ♥


“But Tony, doesn’t it seem like meddling?” Steve chewed at the corner of his lip. “Maybe the other versions of us won’t want to listen to what we have to say.”

“We are pretty stubborn, I’m sure that’s true in every universe,” Tony said with a grin. “But I’ve seen some of the places they come from. Things are not good there. They need our help, Steve.”

Steve heart swelled at the care Tony had for everyone, even if they were from a different universe. “You’re right, honey. Come on then. Let’s do this.”

“Okay,” Tony called out, taking his hand, matching wedding bands sat atop each other. “Send the first pair in.”


MCU (Earth-199999)

“Have you two ever spent any time together outside of a mission?” Tony asked, eyeing them strangely.

“Uhh. There was that one time we got shawarma,” Grumpy Steve said.

“That was right after a mission and you were half asleep. That doesn’t count,” Grumpy Tony said snappishly.

“So you’ve never actually… hung out? As friends? Like, at all?” Tony asked, seeming genuinely perplexed.

“Well. When you put it like that, not really, no,” Grumpy Steve admitted.

“I think we may have discovered the root of your issues,” Steve said with a sigh. “Why not try talking to each other, for god’s sake?”

“Because he hates me,” both Grumpy Steve and Grumpy Tony wailed in unison.

“He really doesn’t,” Steve and Tony both said firmly.

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Yesterday I saw an anti ironpanther post on my dash and surprise, surprise, spite is a very good motivator for me to start writing again. So have some courting, and arc reactor issues and getting together, since that is what @ir0nshield asked for. Watch out for the cut since this is almost 3k words long.


Dealing with T’Challa after the whole mess with the Accords was easier than Tony would have thought.

Sure, T’Challa, and T’Chaka before him, had been for the Accords in the first place, but T’Challa was also housing the rogue Avengers and Tony wasn’t sure what to expect from him.

But T’Challa was nothing if not polite, and Tony tried to be the same in return. After all, T’Challa was a big force behind the Accords and Tony could need him in his corner if Ross suddenly decided that Tony belonged into the raft as well.

Tony was rubbing at the skin around the arc reactor, the cold always made it hurt, when T’Challa entered the conference room.

“Mr. Stark,” he greeted Tony and Tony almost flinched.

“Let’s stick to Tony, Mr. Stark was my father, King T’Challa,” he said and T’Challa thoughtfully tilted his head.

“Only if you can forget the king,” he gave back and Tony huffed.

“Nothing easier as that, Mufasa.” Tony wasn’t sure if the Lion King was a thing over in Wakanda, but going by the tilt to T’Challa’s mouth it definitely was.

“I think I am more Simba than Mufasa, wouldn’t you agree,” T’Challa said and proved Tony right.

“If you say so, Simba,” Tony replied with a smile and then stilled when T’Challa’s gaze fell onto his chest.

“Is it still hurting from the injury?” he asked and Tony forced himself to lower his hand.

He never liked it when the attention was on the arc reactor.

“Maybe. It just hurts sometimes,” he gave back, not willing to tell T’Challa that it was the injury and the cold and the reactor in general. He didn’t need to know that.

T’Challa obviously noticed Tony’s hesitation in talking about the reactor and thankfully dropped the matter.

They were talking about Rhodey and his recovery when the other members of the Accords came in and from then on it was only business with them.

~*~*~

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Inspired by @nonbinarytonystark‘s prompt- Tony likes to wear Steve’s clothes


It was a thing.


It didn’t mean anything, per se… Steve’s sweaters were just cozy, okay? And his sweatpants were soft and his tshirts were baggy and they all smelt like something undeniably Steve-

Yeah. Anyway. Like Tony said. It was a thing.

To be honest, he hadn’t even expected anyone to notice, really- they were just a few clothes, after all. Nothing special. The team used his stuff all the time- what made this different? Nothing, that was what. It wasn’t like Tony… hoarded it, or anything. And he certainly didn’t steal Steve’s jumpers after bad nights in order to calm him down. That would just be stupid.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid.

In fact, if he hadn’t come down one time, half asleep and wearing literally none of his own clothes, everyone probably would have just let it slide. Tony honestly hadn’t done it intentionally- he was just tired and a little shaken from the lovely morning nightmare that had served as his wakeup call, and Steve’s clothes were soft and big and smelt really nice.

It was calming. It was… home. 

So Tony had slid them on without a second thought and then trundled downstairs, pretty much still asleep. Mornings, especially early ones like this one, were most definitely not his forte.

Except… turns out that superspies were observant. Who’d have thought? 

Anyway, they noticed it immediately. Natasha just raised an eyebrow, but Clint was an asshole, so Clint wolf-whistled and jostled Steve’s shoulder, making him turn from where he was busily preparing his breakfast in order to look in their direction. Tony, still pretty much sleepwalking at that point, just tried to zoom in on the coffee and direct his body toward it. He doesn’t notice everyone staring, or Steve’s progressively reddening cheeks.

“Nice look, Tony,” Natasha says quietly, eyes still on the morning paper.

“Fuck yourself,” he says cheerily, and barely even winces when the spoon flies an inch away from his nose in response. He’s grown used to it.

Clint makes a move, ruffling his hair and then cooing, despite Tony’s grumble of protest. He would normally just punch him, but did he mention how tired he was? Really fucking tired.

“Don’t you just want to fucking bundle him up when he’s like this? How do you resist, Steve?” Clint asks, and Tony glares at him and turns to Steve, ready to hear a witty quip in reply, but the other man is just spluttering a little incoherently, eyes still fixed on the pale blue button-down that’s pretty much slipping right off Tony’s shoulders.

His face falls a little, because shit, Steve’s noticed. And now they’re probably going to have a long and awkward conversation about boundaries, where Steve tells him he needs to stop wearing his clothes, which will suck, because Tony loves Steve’s clothes-

He’s so caught up in his own head that he forgets to watch where his feet are going, and they catch on the overhanging material that hangs over his toes whenever he wears Steve’s sweatpants, and then he’s off, falling face first, destination: corner of the fucking tabletop.

Great way to start the day.

He braces for impact, a little yelp escaping his lips as he jerks his hands up on instinct- but impact doesn’t come. Instead, there’s a sudden tight pressure on his waist, and he realizes it’s an arm that’s just managed to snag him before he brains himself. Which is nice. Definitely helpful.

Steve is stood there, a little awkwardly, arm simply outstretched and holding Tony’s entire body-weight like it’s nothing, which is probably not something he needs to be thinking about when wearing thin sweatpants-

“Where are your glasses, Tony?” Steve says, fond exasperation evident in his voice as he pulls Tony upright again and then softly places a hand against his jaw, checking to see that all braining incidents had been 100% avoided.

Tony scowls, and shrugs. “Left them out somewhere- but I don’t need them to see my own two feet, Steve, only reason I fell was because your pants are-”

He’s about to say stupidly big, before realizing that, being the insanely clever person he is, he just managed to expose himself and his clothe-stealing ways right in front of the man himself.


Amazing. He was on a god damn roll this morning. God- he wished he’d just knocked himself out on the tabletop. 


But rather than frowning and pulling him up on it, Steve just blushes a little bit deeper, and Tony watches his eyes flicker down very briefly, before dragging themselves back up immediately and only making the blush go even darker, and at this rate Steve is going to be a motherfucking tomato, or his cheeks are going to burst open from too much blood rushing around in them.

“They suit you,” Steve says quietly,and Tony has to question whether or not he’s even conscious at this point, because that was definitely a lip bite, and Steve’s eyes keep flickering down toward Tony’s exposed collarbone like there’s a god damn magnet attached to the thing-

“Wait,” Tony blurted suddenly, squinting a little and hoping that his eyesight really isn’t failing him enough to imagine that, “do you…no way-do you like that?”

Steve laughed, and this time it was a lick of the lips, which was honestly just unfair at this time of day. “Uhhh-”

“he means he likes you wearing his clothes, but he’d prefer them back on his bedroom floor,” Bruce piped up, which was surprising, because everyone had assumed he’d just been napping on the tabletop.

Steve frowned. “Can you maybe let me flirt on my own, guys?” 

“Hey, you chose to do this in the communal room, your fault,” Clint said, before waving them away, “now shoo- go have your way with him or whatever, Steve- I don’t want to see any more of this here, I’m eating my cereal.”

Tony looked at Steve, still trying to actually conceive what was happening here. Steve just looked at him, waiting for a sign of confirmation, and when Tony gave a confused nod of his head, Steve wasted absolutely no time in sweeping him directly off his feet and into an effortless bridal carry, beginning to maneuver them both out of the communal room at a brisk pace.

Tony blinked, hands wrapping around Steve’s neck instinctively, feeling more than a little blissed out when all Steve’s warmth and softness and smell that he usually leeched off his clothes was suddenly pressed up directly against him. 

“Bye,” was all Steve called out, before sliding out into the corridor and immediately pressing Tony against the wall, mouth meeting Tony’s possessively, greedily.

“You really like the clothes, huh,” Tony whispered in amazement, in between kisses.

He was kissing Steve he was kissing Steve he was kissing Steve he was kissing St-

Steve smiled, hands wandering underneath the button down and slipping around his waist. “Every time, every damn time you’d come down wearing something of mine, I wanted to do this. I thought you were doing it on purpose- you had to be. There couldn’t have been any other reason you hadn’t noticed how I reacted to it.”

Tony opened his mouth to reply, biting down on a groan between breaths, but Steve kissed him again, picking him up once more, this time by the ass, and then waiting for Tony to wrap his legs around Steve’s waist before moving them forward. “I might make you keep the shirt on, though. It looks good. Real good.My clothes always look good on you”

Tony grinned, “possessive streak, have we, Rogers?”

“You have no idea,”

“I feel like I’m about to find out, though.”

Steve smiled, smug and dirty as he kissed Tony’s neck, whispering “damn fuckin’ straight.”


Okay. So maybe the morning was looking up, after all.

peter’s a little bundle of red and blue and wriggles. he runs into the kitchen wearing one rainboot and leaps into steve’s arms, tony following with the missing boot.

tony looks tired, and steve gives him a soft smile over peter’s head. tony returns it with a weary one of his own.

‘have you been giving your daddy the run around?’ steve asks peter, holding him facing outwards so that he can stick out his last socked little foot for tony to put the boot on.

‘no!’ peter protests. 'love my daddy! give lots kisses!’

steve kisses his ear, reaching out to put his other arm around tony’s waist, drawing him in close. 'alright, sweetheart?’ he asks softly. 'you look awfully tired.’

tony sighs out and turns into steve’s hold, letting his forehead drop into the hollow of steve’s shoulder and resting there. 'i am tired,’ he says, muffled by steve’s shirt. 'i am so tiiired. i could sleep for a week. steven, light of my life, did you make coffee? please say you made coffee, darling.’

'have i ever forgotten your coffee?’ steve says, slightly indignant. he gives tony’s backside a gentle pinch. 'it’s behind you on the counter, sweetest.’

tony moans gratefully and grabs it with both hands, taking a huge gulp. peter giggles at him. 'slurp,’ he tells steve. 'daddy slurping.’

'that’s a new word,’ steve says, smiling and swinging peter down into his chair. 'did clint teach you that?’

'nat. nat slurp,’ peter says cryptically, and flops over the counter to grab a pancake. steve sighs and moves his glass of orange juice to a safe distance.

tony’s still blearily upright, nursing his coffee. steve pulls out a chair and gently guides him into it, and then sits down between the two of them. peter’s happily humming through a mouth stuffed full of pancake, lifting up his legs one by one to admire his rainboots.

tony rests his head on steve’s shoulder. 'thanks,’ he mumbles, and steve slips an arm around him, stroking the hair off his forehead and dropping a kiss there.

'i think we should ask nat to b-a-b-y-sit this afternoon,’ steve murmurs. 'pretty sure she wouldn’t mind. you need a break.’

tony breathes out longingly, with a guilty glance at peter. 'but…’ he says, and steve rubs reassuringly at the knots in tony’s back.

'it’s okay,’ he says gently. 'he’ll love it. nat will love to take him. he’ll be fine, sweetheart, and we can take an afternoon off. you can sleep or do some programming, and i’ll give you a massage.’

tony grins at him, reaching up to fiddle aimlessly with the zipper of steve’s jacket. 'hm. i’m listening. what sort of massage?’

'whatever sort you want,’ steve promises, and then lurches swiftly forward to save peter from receiving an unholy baptism of orange juice. peter fusses half-heartedly, foiled in his plot to wreak messy havoc on the breakfast table; steve distracts him by making a face on a new pancake, cutting holes for eyes and a slit for the mouth.

when he looks back at tony, tony’s watching them with the most beautiful soft look on it, despite the tiredness, and he’s smiling. 'i love you so damn much, steve rogers,’ he says, out of the blue, and leans up to lay a swift light kiss on steve’s cheek.

'swear jar,’ steve says, but he can’t stop smiling.

~

the puddly, rainy landing area sends peter into raptures of ecstacy, running round in mad circles with excited happy little squeaking noises. his little face is pink-nosed under the blue hood of his raincoat, and he gleefully jumps into a deep puddle, sending cold water everywhere.

steve puts his arm around tony, tucking him into his side; tony leans against him and threads their hands together, ducking his face to avoid the cold spray that peter’s kicking up. 'our child is a maniac,’ he says resignedly.

'to be fair,’ steve says, 'so are we. come on, let’s jump some puddles.’ he turns smoothly to face tony, putting his hands on his husband’s waist and smiling down at him. 'hang on tight, sweetheart,’ he says, his voice full of laughter, and tony barely has time to squeak before steve lifts him up and swings him gracefully over the biggest puddle.

peter shrieks excitedly, running around them in circles. 'papa, PAPA!’ he giggles, 'stop! you drop daddy!“

'i not drop daddy, ever,’ steve says surely, looking down into tony’s flushed laughing face and sparkling eyes. 'daddy not drop me, either.’ he leans down and presses his forehead briefly against tony’s, feeling his warm skin; tony closes his eyes and presses back, smiling.

peter comes and cuddles in between them, making happy cooing sounds. and it’s wet and kind of cold and clammy and peter’s putting his soggy little mittens inside their raincoats, and tony’s face is covered in little clinging droplets as he smiles up into steve’s face like soft sunshine; and steve wants to paint him. and everything’s perfect.

(more ficlets under the 'stevetony ficlet’ tag on my blog - including the prequel to this!)

I had an idea and I thought it would be cool to write it out! It’s a really rough idea of what could possibly be a fic??? But honestly, who knows?


“Papa!” Peter cried out happily, reaching out for Tony from within Steve’s arms. Tony grinned, taking Peter before placing him on his hip and placing a kiss on his son’s forehead. 

“Petey!” Tony exclaimed, chuckling as he tickled Peter’s stomach, loving the pure sounds of laughter which came from him. “How was your weekend with Pops?” Tony asked, “Was it fun?”

“Yeah, it was!” Peter nodded frantically before launching into a whole explanation of what they had done that weekend. Tony listened avidly, gasping and ah-hing at all the right moments as Peter made grand gestures. 

All the while, Steve watched them with a soft smile on his face, taking in the sight of them never failing to warm his heart. He didn’t interrupt and answered whenever Peter asked him a question or included him in the conversation. 

They were all laughing together, like the family that they once were. 

“Alright, I’m going to say goodbye to Pops,” Tony explained to Peter as he placed him down. “And I’ll be in in a minute, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter replied before rushing forward and giving Steve a huge hug. “Bye, Pops, I love you.”

“I love you too, Petey,” Steve said, wrapping his arms around Peter tightly. “I’ll see you next weekend, okay?”

“And we’ll go to the zoo?” Peter asked.

“We’ll see,” Steve replied, grinning as Peter rolled his eyes, he learned that from Tony, before pecking his cheek and running into the house. 

“He has so much energy,” Tony says fondly. “I honestly wonder how I’m going to get him asleep tonight,”

“Ah, I tired him out pretty well at the park,” Steve assures him, smiling. “He also had an awesome time at the National Museum, he didn’t want to leave,”

“I can imagine that,” Tony said, the both of them laughing before it got silent.

“How are you doing, Steve?” Tony finally asked, leaning against the door frame as he gazed at Steve. “I heard that you’re having a showcase at the art gallery, that’s great!”

“Thanks, it’s actually still such a shock,” Steve said, his hands going into his pockets, a shy gesture. “I’m sort of waiting to wake up from a dream because it doesn’t feel real,”

“But it is,” Tony said. “You shouldn’t be surprised, you’ve always been such a talented artist,”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve always had such faith in me,”

Tony grinned. “Well, I’m your biggest fan.”

Those words were simple but were incredibly important and held so much love. Steve remembered Tony telling him this, curled up on their couch in their first apartment together.

Tony seemed to have had remembered that memory too, his grin turning into a wistful smile as he glanced away. 

“Hey, babe,” That was the familiar voice of Peter Quill as he stuck his head around the corner, a giggling Peter Stark-Rogers on his shoulders. “You okay out there?”

“I’m fine!” Tony told him, wistful smile turning warm as he looked at his two favorite boys. “I’ll be in in a minute,”

“Alright,” Peter said before smiling and giving a friendly wave. “Hey, Steve,”

“Hey, Peter,” Steve said, his smile light as he waved in return and soon, the two Peters were off again, the sound of dinosaur roars and giggles muffled as they reached the living room. 

Tony turned back and sighed as he hid his hands in the too-long sleeves of his sweatshirt. “So, I’ll see you around?”

Steve nodded, not exactly sure not to feel anymore, as he takes a few steps backwards. 

“I’ll see you around,” he says, waving before turning around and heading towards his car, hearing the door close as he left. 

It never got easier to see Tony with someone else, it never got easier to see Peter laugh and play with a man who has somehow taken his place. 

The jealousy was always there, but it dimmed over time because there wasn’t a lot he could do now. The relationship that he and Tony had was special, special beyond anything else that Steve had ever experienced and it was painful, having it slip from between his fingers. 

He glanced back at the house, noticing someone peeking through a window near the entrance before they left. 

It would never get easier. 

Frost (Chapter Three)

So I feel like this chapter is maybe a little boring… but it’s the first real interaction between Tony and Loki and the first stepping stone into their relationship, so I didn’t want to leave it out! Let me know what you guys think :)

If you want to be added to the tag list hit up my ASK BOX.

ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS HERE

Enjoy :)
****************

“Forgive me.” Loki stopped in his tracks a few steps into the library and bowed stiffly. “I was not aware that you were in here.”

“No it’s fine.” Tony waved him in, barely looking up from his book. “Come in. It’s a big library, you won’t even notice I’m here.”

“I highly doubt that.” Loki bared his teeth in something resembling a smile and started backing away. “I’ll leave you to your reading.”

“No, seriously.” Tony put his book down, frowning over Loki’s odd comment. “This is your library, not mine so–”

“As the consort of the King, it is in fact your library. I have plenty of books in my room to read.” Loki raised his eyebrows. “I will not intrude on your quiet. Good day, Sir Anthony.”

“Do you not like me?” Tony asked, sounding irritated and Loki’s eyes snapped shut, trying to hide the panic that filled them.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” he said through clenched teeth.

“No?” Tony challenged. “Because the other day in my room you said that I reacted to you the same way I react to my–” his throat moved as he swallowed uncomfortably. “–to the team. And at first that made me mad but then I sort of– well I don’t like that. I don’t like that I still react that way. I thought I was over all of it and it turns out I’m not. Not completely anyway, and I don’t like that. But it’s not that I equate you with them, I just– we have a weird past, you know?”

“Yes, I was told it took months for you to even be comfortable around Thor, much less comfortable around your Avengers. However, I’m sure whatever I said can be ignored as I actually have no opinion either way about how you act around me or any other person on Asgard. I was simply trying to get a rise out of you, and it has worked perfectly.” Loki kept his tone cool, his posture relaxed even though he felt like screaming.

Why was the mortal so upfront about everything? Why did he seem to take to heart everything Loki said? And more than that, why did it seem as if he was upset that Loki thought he was uncomfortable when they were together?

“Look.” Tony sighed. “Look. All I’m saying is, I don’t like that you said that. I don’t look at you like I look at my team. If anything, I don’t understand why I want to—”

No no no no no. Loki did start to panic then. The last thing he needed was this mortal bringing up the odd draw between the two of them, the way they couldn’t seem to not look at each other. He did not need a question about the Hjartslattur bond and he did not need to be standing here talking about anything even remotely related to it.

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2

A/N: I know, I know. I’ve done a Peter Parker x Stark!reader imagine, but I wanted to take a different approach and form an actual story instead of one imagine. Peter will not take be in this imagine since this is purely exposition between the reader and Tony Stark. I’m not sure when Peter will show up, but he will before Civil War. This is set during Iron Man and for the sake of story telling, Iron Man, Iron Man 2, the Avengers, and Civil War will happen in a year or so

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

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Rest

Uhh so this was in my drafts which I havent checked in weeks and totally forgot about? Anyway seeing as the fic I was supposed to be posting today got deleted,,, yall can have this one from like 5 months ago instead lmao.


Tony really should have noticed sooner.


On the surface, nothing seemed wrong. Steve was fine. A little ragged, maybe, but fine. He acted in the same way, smiled at Tony no differently, scolded Clint no less.

Fine.

(Beware the read more, mobile users!)

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Take It or Leave It - Part 2

OMG I AM SCREAMING! I RECEIVED SUCH POSISTIVE FEED BACK AND SO MANY TAG LIST REQUESTS! YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST!

Anyway, that aside, thank you so much for your incredible reaction to the first part and I hope that you really like this part!

And without further ado, let’s get into the second part! 

Originally posted by perksofbeinganavengers

“Stark, what the hell was that?!” Steve asked the second you were out of ear shot.

“Language.” Clint muttered but he went ignored

Sam snorted. “She’s like Sherlock and Dr Watson all in one.” 

“No. She’s Y/N. You can’t compare her to anyone else trust me.” Tony replied, completely unfazed by Steve’s outburst.

“She just came up here with convenient perfect timing, happened to bring Chinese with all of our favourites that we didn’t even know and can read people better than Romanoff and Buck? And you say she’s a lawyer?” Steve crossed his arms and took a few steps back. 

“It’s not my story to tell but for the record, she’s justified.” Tony was quick to defend you after years of loyalty.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Oh of course. Because you know all about ‘Bunny’, don’t you? And justified? She speaks 9 languages fluently, and is highly trained in Ballet, Gymnastics and Martial arts!” 

Bucky and Natasha shared an uneasy look. 

“For God’s sake, Rogers! What is your problem with the girl? She knew this case had a less than fifty percent chance of winning it yet here she is, ready to bust her ass to make sure your asses don’t end up in a maximum security prison that makes The Raft look like a five star hotel!” 

“We risk our lives constantly to help protect the world and now you’re telling us to put our trust in someone who is trained well enough to be one of us when we don’t even know her!” 

The tension in the room was thick and everyone was tense and ready to pounce the minute things headed south.

Tony stood up, slamming his glass on the table. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you to do! You can’t get yourself out of this mess on your own, admit it! You don’t know jack shit about the law whereas she knows it inside and out, back to front! The reason she’s speaks so many languages is because she enjoys being able to communicate with people in their own language! 

“But Latin, Tony! Who the hells speaks Latin nowadays?”  Steve threw his arms out in exasperation.

“I do.” Natasha piped up.

Bucky smirked. “So do I. And the population of the Vatican City does.”

“Well unless she represents the Pope it means nothing, Buck!”

Tony grinned. “Well, she doesn’t represent him but she does have his number.” 

“How the hell does she have the Pope’s number?” Sam butted in looking completely confused.

“Like I said, Pigeon; it’s Y/N.” 

“I don’t trust her in any way, shape or form.” Steve steered the derailed conversation back on track. 

“Captain Rogers. You don’t necessarily have to trust her, only her abilities.” Vision spoke for the first time since you had originally arrived. 

Steve took a look at everyone’s faces before storming out the room. 

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … 

You woke up the next morning to papers strewn all across the duvet and you laptop tilted to the side, precariously balancing on your thigh. Groaning and sitting upright, you began mentally preparing yourself for the the day. Today was the day the team was going to have to fill out the paperwork to officially take you on as their attorney and you were going to have to deal with trying to get Steve to sign two documents, since he was the leader of the Avengers as well. 

The Avengers were a private organisation that therefore required even more paperwork to sign them on as your client. Jesus, you might just die today. 

First things first, breakfast. You silently set about your routine. You whipped your hair up into a bun quickly before applying a natural makeup look, every colour in the nudes apart from a rose tinted lipstick. You shook your hair out  and gently brushed it through; your hair was something you loved about yourself and took great pride in and hence you were very careful when you lightly curled it for the day. Opening the wardrobe, you took out a shirt and skirt that you had unpacked last night from your bag. Sliding into heels you set about gathering up your sheets and organising them into folders, snatching up the laptop and giving yourself a once over. 

Yep, you looked ready to take on whatever the day threw at you. 

You take that back. 

Upon entering the kitchen, you decided that you were going to need a raise. Clint was sat on top of the fridge watching the mayhem unravel with a smile. Natasha and Wanda were sat quietly to one side, Wanda showing Natasha something on her phone. Vision was sort of just hovering by them confused. Peter, Tony, Sam and Scott were in the midst of a very intense food fight. Steve was sat on the sofa to one side drawing, judging by his hand motions. Bruce wasn’t present yet. Rhodey was sat on one of the chairs to the side trying to stop the four but not really putting in effort and T’Challa was finishing up on a phone call before he came to stand by you.

You whistled but to no effect. “I believe the Colonel has already tried that and failed.” The King had traces of humour in his voice. “They remind me of the animals we have back home in Wakanda.”

You smiled at the man. “Wakanda must be stunning, your majesty.” 

“Please, Miss L/N, there is no need for titles; you are doing my friends and myself a monumentus deed.” 

“In that case, I must ask you to call me Y/N.” 

T’Challa smiled at you before giving a brief polite nod. “I’m sure you need to speak to them, yes?”

You nodded in confirmation.

“Then I must suggest that you endeavour to find a way to get them to stop and then listen.” 

You grinned. “I have a way. But no one’s going to like it.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Because it involves the knife attached to your right ankle.” 

T’Challa shook his head quietly but nether the less, bent down and retrieved the knife for you. “I must request that you don’t hurt anyone, Y/N.”

“Who said anything about hurting anyone?” You smirked before you spoke. 

The knife had barely been in your hand before you threw it in a dead straight line to the other end of the kitchen, cutting through the food fight and burying itself with a loud thud in the cupboard door, next to the fridge. The room went silent in shock, no one moved until their heads turned to you.

“Excuse me!?” Tony shrieked.

“Get over it, Tony; both myself and Colonel Rhodes had tried to get you to stop but nobody listened.” You replied, completely calm with your game face on. “Now here’s what’s going to happen. You four, are going to clean up your mess; Miss Maximoff and Miss Romanoff, you’re both going to go and get dressed; Colonel Rhodes if you could go and get Dr Banner it would be appreciated; Captain Rogers, it would be muchly appreciated if you could go and get Sergeant Barnes for us.” 

“No need, Sugar, I’m right here.” Bucky winked at you as he walked in.

“Good morning, Sergeant Barnes.” You smiled politely at the soldier. You quickly fixed you attention back to its previous focus. “Mr Barton please get down from the fridge and pass me the knife back. And Mr Vision please can you help me in the kitchen once the boys are done cleaning up?”

Vision inclined his head. “Of course.”

“Thank you.” 

“Bunny." 

"Tony.” You replied in the same type of voice.

Tony sighed dramatically before starting to tidy up and everyone jolted into action, following your instructions.

As soon as they had cleaned the counters, you immediately swooped in and began going around the kitchen. 

“Mr Vision, where do you keep your bowls and utensils?” You asked as you opened cupboards at random. 

“The culinary utensils are in the second draw to your left whilst the bowls are in the bottom cupboard to your right, Miss L/N." 

"Please, just call me Y/N.” You smiled as you glanced at him before taking the eggs and milk from the fridge. 

“And in return I ask that you just call me Vision." 

Grinning, you asked him. "Vision, where do you keep the flour and sugar?”
He once again guided you to what you were looking for.

Before long there were pancakes and waffles cooking away, whilst others were stacked up on plates and cut fruit was in bowls, courtesy of Vision. You were wielding a spatula and kept whacking anyone’s hands that tried to steal any. Moving gracefully around the kitchen, you laid the table and made everybody sit down before laying the food that you had made in the middle of the table as Vision followed with the fruit.

“Do you make breakfast for all your clients then?” Clint asked as everyone dug into the food.

“I don’t normally stay with clients, Mr Barton; it’s that I’ve been working for Tony  a long time and he now insists that I stay with him when I do. And from what I’ve heard none of you can really cook with the exception of a few.” You ate a mouthful of fruit.

“That’s right, Legolas. Bunny’s here enough when she’s doing things for me that I gave her a room about 7 years ago.” Tony piped in, drowning his waffles in syrup.

“Which reminds me…” You trailed off as you pushed your chair back and got up before grabbing the files you had brought with you. “You’re not going to like this but I’ve got paperwork for you. It’s only a bunch of signatures and basic information.” 

Groans met your admission.

“So that’s why you made us breakfast!” Peter exclaimed.

You nodded sarcastically. “Well done, Mr Parker. If you want something from someone you have to give them something in return.”

Sam snorted into his coffee as you handed out the folders.

“We’re going to need pens, Miss L/N.” Steve spoke directly to you for the second time since you arrived.

“Who would have known America’s golden boy had sass in him? There are pens in each of the folders if you open them.” Today was so not going as planned and you hadn’t even gone through breakfast yet. “And I’d step to it, Captain Rogers, because you have twice as much than everyone else.”

“And why is that?” 

You pouted dramatically at the man.

“I thought you were in charge of the Avengers and that means you have to do all the corporate paperwork as well. And I’m going to have to file it all today so I can get your case going.”

An hour later you were walking out of The Avengers Tower to hail a cab heading for the law firm Hughes and Wood for a day of paperwork.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … 

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anonymous asked:

Steve being his SJW Brooklyn-born self.

Thanks Veronica for letting me know this one was yours!

“I’m Irish,” Steve said, “which means I’m very stubborn. And I was born in New York, which means I’m not afraid to throw a punch. And I was raised as a decent human being, may my Ma’s memory be a blessing, which is how I know which fights to pick.”

The reporter, microphone in hand, brushed his windblown hair out of his eyes. “But surely, Captain, as a representative of the US Government, this is a….polarizing place for you to be.”

“I don’t represent the government,” Steve said. 

“But you’re Captain America!”

“Yeah, not President America,” Steve retorted. Behind him, a tall, willowy woman snickered at the reporter. “I represent the people of America. In specific I represent the people of America who need someone who is too stubborn to give up and knows how to throw a punch.”

A guy in a Captain America shield shirt, standing next to Steve, grinned at him. 

“Do you worry how this will affect your image?” the reporter asked. 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Do I strike you as a fella who worries much about his image?” he asked. “Look, if you’re done askin’ me dumb questions how about you give the mic to the folks who actually need a platform?” he added, and plucked the microphone out of the reporter’s hand. The man gasped and grabbed for it, but Steve had already passed it over his shoulder to the woman standing behind him. 

“TRANS WOMEN ARE WHAT?” she yelled, and the crowd yelled back WOMEN! “TRANS MEN ARE WHAT?” MEN! 

The news feed cut out at that point, but not before the cameras caught Steve’s sign, which read KEEP YOUR BIGOTRY OUT OF MY BATHROOM. Tony muted the TV and glanced at Steve.

“You really don’t worry at all about it, do you?” he asked. “Your image in the media.”

“Do you think I came outta that looking bad?” Steve asked, curiously.

“No, but some people will.” 

“What do I care what a buncha bigots think? What are they going to do? I’m too big for them to knock me down and they can’t take anything from me I value. Captain America isn’t a job you get fired from; only way to lose that mantle is to walk away from it, and I’m bad at walking away from things.”

“Yes, as demonstrated,” Tony said with a grin. “Well, I hope you know what you’re doing, going up against The Man.”

“Son, I came out of Brooklyn,” Steve said, and Tony laughed. “We were born to fight the Man.”