Stan Can Trash Fire

All posts related to my WTNV Tarot Project are tagged under “#WTNV Tarot”.

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Major Arcana (22/22)

0 - THE FOOL: Cecil Palmer

I - THE MAGICIAN: Tamika Flynn

II - THE HIGH PRIESTESS: Faceless Old Woman

III - THE EMPRESS: Mayor Pamela Winchell

IV - THE EMPEROR: The Glow Cloud

V - THE HIEROPHANT: Old Woman Josie/ The Erikas

VI - THE LOVERS: The Whispering Forest

VII - THE CHARIOT: Hiram McDaniels

VIII - STRENGTH: Dana

IX - THE HERMIT: PYRAMID

X - THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE: Eternal Scouts

XI - JUSTICE: A Story About You/ The Dark Planet Lit By No Sun

XII - THE HANGED MAN: Young Cecil

XIII - DEATH: The Tiny City

XIV - TEMPERANCE: The Sandstorm

XV - THE DEVIL: The Man In The Tan Jacket

XVI - THE TOWER: Telly The Barber

XVII - THE STAR: The Lights Above The Arbys

XVIII - THE MOON: Svitz

XIX - THE SUN: Desert Bluffs

XX - JUDGEMENT: Nulogorsk

XXI - THE WORLD: The Town and The Void

The Court Cards (16/16):

KING OF SWORDS - The Sheriff

KING OF WANDS - Kevin

KING OF CUPS - Steve Carlsberg

KING OF PENTACLES - Marcus Vansten

QUEEN OF SWORDS - Intern Maureen

QUEEN OF WANDS - Lauren Mallard

QUEEN OF CUPS - Cactus June/Judy/Jane

QUEEN OF PENTACLES - Leann Hart

KNIGHT OF SWORDS - INTERLOPER!

KNIGHT OF WANDS - The City Council

KNIGHT OF CUPS - Computer

KNIGHT OF PENTACLES - Carlos The Scientist

PAGE OF SWORDS - Doug and The Masked Army

PAGE OF WANDS -  Daniel

PAGE OF CUPS - Meghan Wallaby

PAGE OF PENTACLES - Plastic Bags

The Minor Arcana (40/40):

ACE OF SWORDS - Poetry Week

2 OF SWORDS - The Debate

3 OF SWORDS - The Trophy

4 OF SWORDS - Mayor Cardinal

5 OF SWORDS - The Carnival

6 OF SWORDS - The University of What It Is

7 OF SWORDS - The Old Oak Doors

8 OF SWORDS - Fey

9 OF SWORDS - THE BROWN STONE SPIRE

10 OF SWORDS - Cassettes

ACE OF WANDS - The Lighthouse

2 OF WANDS - Radon Canyon

3 OF WANDS - Deer Masks

4 OF WANDS - Fashion Week

5 OF WANDS - Night Vale Football

6 OF WANDS - Summer Reading Program

7 OF WANDS - Battle of Strex

8 OF WANDS - Route 800

9 OF WANDS - The Parable Of The Birds

10 OF WANDS - Parade Day

ACE OF CUPS - Khoshekh

2 OF CUPS - First Date

3 OF CUPS - Cecil’s Vacation

4 OF CUPS - Lazy Day

5 OF CUPS - Homecoming

6 OF CUPS- Earl Harlan

7 OF CUPS - Condos

8 OF CUPS - The Dog Park

9 OF CUPS - worms…

10 OF CUPS - Dana’s Grandfather’s Table

ACE OF PENTACLES - Yellow Helicopters

2 OF PENTACLES - The Watch

3 OF PENTACLES - The Waterfront

4 OF PENTACLES - Orange Grove

5 OF PENTACLES - White Sand Ice Cream Shop

6 OF PENTACLES - Capital Commission

7 OF PENTACLES - John Peters

8 OF PENTACLES - Station Management

9 OF PENTACLES - Louie Blasco

10 OF PENTACLES - History Week

Bonus Links:

The Backing

Transguy moodboard for the name Kyle for @thenperishdotexe: The name Kyle made me think of sweaters, rainbows, stars and milkshakes

Let me know if you’d like anything changed

A moodboard for a trans dude named Flint!! I hope you like it, and know that you’re a man no matter what!!

name board for a trans guy named lincoln

AU Summary and Warnings: Tony Stark survived the snap that killed Thanos and only lost his arm, Steve Rogers has returned from his brief time travel escapades after realizing he’s not as straight as he thought he was, and his feelings for Tony went far beyond friendship. Tony, Steve, Peter, Rhodey, Pepper, and Nebula are in a polyship and were living at Stark’s private New York residence located somewhere in the city “near all the action,” also close to Peter’s school. Peter, 18, is finishing senior year. Recently, Pepper and Morgan Stark have left for upstate New York to begin Morgan’s private school. Overprotective “auntie” Nebula joined them due to her own safety concerns, leaving the boys to fend for themselves. Unknown to everyone, Tony is having a secret sciencey-fling with Bruce Banner, kept private for shy Bruce’s sake. Aunt May is on a cruise in the Bahamas.

Tony has offered to pay for Peter’s college, but Peter is being stubborn and wants to earn it for himself, so he gets a job at the local coffee shop and quickly finds a love for the job. In fact, he loves it so much that he begins to neglect his Super-Hero duties. At first Tony is supportive of a break from the dangerous life of saving New York on the daily, despite Cap’s urging Peter to take on bigger baddies and hone his skills. But they both soon realize Peter’s interest in coffee is mainly tied to a cute customer who comes in on Peter’s every shift. Unbeknownst to Peter, this customer lives a double life. This will be a serial story, updated when I have time. There will be NSFW content, each section that includes NSFW content will be marked accordingly so the reader can choose to enjoy the story while skipping the lewd parts should the desire.

Everyone in this story is 18 or older.

Tl;Dr: Adult Tom Holland Spider-Man is working as a barista post-blip. He’s in a polyship with Tony, Steve, Rhodey, Pepper, and Nebula. He has a crush on one of his patrons and is neglecting his heroic duty. There’s NSFW stuff in here. 

Part One: “Pumpkin Spice Latte, Extra Whip”

Warm yellow sun pierced through the sepia tinted windows of the coffee shop. It was a nice clear day. The taxi cabs sat bumper-to-bumper, the people hurriedly walked the sidewalks like a fashion-show runway, carrying their coats over their shoulders on this uncharacteristically warm November afternoon. A flash of green dashed through the crowd of customers as Peter Parker raced round the back entrance of the counter to clock in. His apron whooshed around him as he stopped at the register, punched in his employee ID number, and jumped into the flow of things, watching the front door intensely as he worked the hot bar with lightning speed. 

Customers loved Peter. He was quick, he never messed up a drink, and he always served with a smile. Pete’s co-workers loved him because whenever he worked, everyone got higher tips. The manager liked him because he always showed up for every shift, but she felt he could be better at the cleaning part of the job; she made sure to mention that in his quarterly review. Right on time, five minutes after 2:00 p.m., Peter’s favorite customer walked in. He told all the customers they were his favorite, but this one in particular was actually his favorite. 

The bell chimed and a man walked in, brown coat draped over his arm, gray knit sweater hugging his broad shoulders and chest just tight enough to portray a hint of modelesque musculature. This was Jamie. Jamie always wore a steel-blue tie, pulled tight around his white collared button-up shirt. Today, he sported a pair of well-fitting khaki slacks, brown oxfords, argyle socks. Clothing tells you everything about a person in New York City. Jamie’s clothes told Peter this: that Jamie had a job in the city, a real job, the kind you do in an office that looks over the hustle and bustle of the commoner’s everyday lives. Or so Peter imagined. He looked like most New York businessmen, but to Peter he was the definition of heaven. He was also unattainable. Peter rarely worked the register, due to being what the manager called “too friendly.” All his chatting with the customers slowed up the line. Unfortunately, Pete’s normal position at the bar fixing drinks kept him behind a wall of glass and noisy machines. The barrier made it near impossible to communicate effectively with customers.

His only chance was at the passthrough area, where he would set each hand-crafted beverage and call out the name of the customer it belonged to. Jamie changed up his drink often, which both frustrated and intrigued Peter. He wanted to be able to make Jamie’s drink quick enough that he could have a second to drop him his number on a napkin, but by the time Peter learned Jamie’s drink (usually three or four shifts), it was usually too late. He’d switched it up again. But Peter liked that about him, too. Jamie clearly liked to try new things. It was a good sign. 

So, as Jamie placed his order, Peter rushed to fill it before the payment was even processed. Today, Jamie ordered a pumpkin spice latte with extra whipped cream. Pete lucked out. He could make that drink in his sleep! Since the seasonal drink made its yearly debut in September, he was making hundreds of these each day. As he steamed the milk, Jamie looked over and gave him an easy smile. The light danced off his brown skin, his eyes twinkled. Peter felt his cheeks tingle with blush as he returned the grin. Milk frothed and mixed with the pumpkin spice flavor, the drink was almost complete. The payment processor beeped its approval to Jamie, and Peter raced to put the extra whip and autumn seasonings on the drink, meeting Jamie at the passthrough counter and carefully putting the lid on the cup.

As Jamie reached for the drink, Peter slipped a napkin toward him. “Don’t forget your napkins, Mr. Jamie, sir.” He’d written his number on it this morning, in preparation for this very moment.

Jamie smiled again, “Thank you, Peter. I’d hate to get coffee all over my suit.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

Jamie took the napkin and left without showing signs of having seen the number written on it. All Peter could do now was wait. Waiting was hard. The time ticked by slower than usual today, but finally it was closing time. Peter helped clean up the floor, sweeping, mopping, and wiping frantically. His co-workers joked about him having a hot date, but when Peter blushed they realized he might actually have a hot date! So they pushed him for answers as to who the mystery guy or girl could possibly be. 

“I don’t have a date, guys. It’s just that I - uh - I have school in the morning. You know, senior year and all. Gotta finish strong,” he said.

At this, Tammy the night shift manager, bursted out with her typical hyena-cackle laughter. “Okay, sure Pete, you have school on a Saturday. Dumbass, it’s Friday night. If you didn’t have a date tonight I would be worried. You need to loosen up, Peter. You can’t just stay single forever!”

Peter’s co-workers had no idea he was actually dating, like, five people, so he just grinned and laughed, “I guess you’re right! Well I have to go now, goodbye!” He clocked out and dashed out of the store as quickly as he came in. As he walked home, green apron hanging over his shoulder, visor flipped backwards, he turned on his phone and waited impatiently for the messages to load. One-by-one they came in.

Aunt May: “Just arrived at the port in Jamaica, having a lovely time on the cruise!”

Cap: “Peter, please remember to do your laundry tonight. Your room smells like feet.”

Mr. Stark: [sent you a picture message]

Ned: “LEGO building party tonight at Josh’s, are you coming? 10pm.”

Pepper: “Morgan says hi!”

MJ: “LOL You look so funny in that coffee uniform.”

But nothing from a mystery number that could possibly be Jamie’s. He responded to the messages somewhat halfheartedly, then descended the subway stairs to take the train home. Headphones in, he thought about Jamie’s smile as he was ordering. His chest felt tight again, blood pumping, music blasting. He daydreamed until his stop, then took the headphones out for his walk home. He entered the tall apartment building and took the elevator up to the top. Nothing but the best for Tony Stark and his family! The penthouse smelled of a home-cooked meal. It was Cap’s turn to cook, so they were bound to have a feast. Rhodey was setting the table and greeted him first.

“Peter! How was work?” He laid down the last fork at the big oval dining table.

“It was good, I made some tips today!” Peter put on an extra layer of cheer to compensate for the disappointment of not hearing from Jamie.

“That’s great, Pete.” Rhodey was Peter’s metamour, Tony being their shared partner. Occasionally there was tension between them. It wasn’t jealousy, but they were known for calling each other out on their bullshit, and Peter could tell Rhodey’s bullshit detector was going off.

But before Rhodes could say anything, Steve Rogers walked in carrying a turkey pot pie. His kiss-the-cook apron, denim cut-off booty-shorts, and crab-claw oven mitts really made for a unique kind of vibe far and away from the Captain America the rest of the world saw. The daisy dukes certainly showed off America’s Ass in the least wholesome of ways. Peter and Rhodey both gulped, eyeballing that thicc snack as Cap bent over the kitchen table and set it at the center. The pot-pie didn’t look too bad either. Both had been interested in Steve for quite some time, but were not sure how to approach that, since he was so newly out of the closet.

“Where’s Tony?” Steve asked, pulling the oven mitts off and reaching back to untie his apron.

“I don’t know, I just got home,” Peter shrugged, heading up the loft stairs.

Steve turned to Rhodey and asked, “What’s up with the kid? He seems off.”

Rhodey wrapped an arm around Steve’s waist and pulled him close, “Don’t you ever take that apron off.” He grinned, then released Steve and headed to the kitchen to grab the green beans and bread rolls. Steve stayed stuck there for a moment, trying to control the blush that spread across his face before going upstairs to check on Peter and find Tony.

Since Peter’s room was down the hall from Tony’s workshop, Steve decided to stop there first. He poked his head in and spotted Pete sulking at his desk, staring listlessly at his phone. Pete didn’t notice him, so he observed and admired for a minute before knocking and entering. “Hey Pete, don’t you have laundry to do?”

Startled, Peter jumped up and threw his phone under his bed. “Yes, that’s exactly what I came in here to do, laundry.” Frantically, he searched for the laundry basket. Unable to find it, he quickly picked up some of his dirty clothes and balled them up in a pile in his arms. Once his hands were full, he used his toes to pick up the boxers and socks that littered the floor.

“Pete…” Steve tried to get his attention.

“I know, Mr. Rogers it smells like feet in here…”

“Pete… well, I mean yes it does but Peter—” he stepped in front of the teen. “Peter, stop.”

“What?” Peter was clearly upset, though his face wasn’t visible behind the pile of clothing that filled his arms.

“Put the laundry down.”

“But my room smells like feet…”

“Peter.”

“Fine,” he dropped the laundry on the floor, then plopped defiantly on the bed. “What.”

Steve sat gently beside Peter. “Pete, you’re upset.”

“I am not upset, I’m fine.”

“Did you have a rough day at work?” Steve scooted closer, leaning into Peter. He smelled sweetly of coffee. Peter said nothing. “You can tell me, I’ll keep a secret.” He wrapped a reassuring arm around Peter’s shoulders.

The young man looked up at him, eyes red from both tiredness and emotions. “There’s a guy.”

“A guy?” Steve had only come out of the closet three months ago. He could feel the blush coming back to his cheeks. He glanced toward the door, secretly hoping Tony would come in and fix everything. Tony could always fix anything, especially Peter’s broken heart.

Pete sniffed. “He’s a customer. His name is Jamie.”

Suddenly suspicious, Steve perked up. “Is he the reason you turned off your police scanner and keep picking up extra shifts at the shop?”

Peter rolled his eyes and sighed. “You have no idea. How hot. He is. Like, he walks in the room and I can’t breathe. And he doesn’t even know I exist beyond that I am some guy in a green apron who works at a coffee shop.”

“I know what you mean, sport, but you so many of us here who adore you, you know?”

“I know, but…” Peter stopped and suddenly realized what Cap was insinuating, “Wait a second… Mr. Rogers are you saying you’re—?”

Just then Tony knocked on the door. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Steve stiffened up and suddenly there was a whole 12 inches between him and Peter. “Hey Tony! Peter had a rough day at work. I told him he needs to do his laundry… ah… dinner is ready, bye!” Steve bolted out of the kid’s room and down the stairs before Tony or Peter had a chance to respond.

“What’s his deal?” Tony asked, sitting down in the warm spot where Steve’s butt just was.

“I think… actually I really don’t know, Mr. Stark.” Peter stood to pick up his clothes.

“Hey, kid, come here for a second.” Tony pulled Peter back onto the bed and pinned him down, his mechanical hand caressing Peter’s cheek. Peter had a momentary flashback to that day but shook it out of his head. He focused on Tony’s piercing eyes.

“You are clearly not okay. And from what I heard, because you know I hear everything that goes on in this house, it has to do with some boy at work?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing…”

“Yes, that’s absolutely right, it is nothing. Hey. Look at me, kid.” He waited until Peter turned his head and made eye contact. “Whoever this guy is, maybe he’s cute. Maybe you even gave him your number on that little napkin from breakfast, but in the end when you’re like us, like you and me and Cap and Bruce, you just can’t date civilians. It never works out. They don’t understand the pressures of the job… or worse: they get killed. Ask any super hero you’ve ever met.”

“But you and Pepper—”

“Yes, Pepper is a special lady who also does the super hero things from time to time. Pep and I have a kid together, but there were years of turmoil before Morgan was born. Stick with what you have, dating outside our kind will only make it hard for you in the end.”

Peter sighed. “I guess… you’re probably right. He’s just so handsome, I… there’s something about him.”

“Pete, I’m not saying don’t go knocking on that door, I’m just saying… be safe about it.”

As the trio put their clothes back on to go downstairs, Peter couldn’t help but think of Jamie from the coffee shop and wonder if what it would be like with him. Being with Steve in a way he could never be with Tony awakened something in him, something dominant and powerful he hadn’t explored before. Tony stepped out to go and smooth things over with Rhodey, who would likely be a little dismayed at not having been invited to their impromptu shindig. Steve, still blushing, came up and hugged Peter.

“Pete. Thank you.” Steve was still sweaty, glowing and glistening from their romp.

Peter indulged in the closeness. As a kid he had looked up to Cap, but there had always been a wall up between them since they first met on the battlefield. Now that wall was gone, and the softness flowed between them. “Mr. Rogers… Steve… My Steve.” He smiled and let himself melt into the strong blonde’s chest.

Steve pulled back a little, just enough to tilt Peter’s head up and kiss him on the lips. It felt more sincere without Tony there to command their every move. What had happened in the past hour or so was fun, but this was somehow more truthful than that experience had been. “I was afraid before… afraid of myself,” Steve began, “I was fearful of nothing except for this. So thank you.”

“Thank Tony. I don’t think either of us could have got up the courage to explore without him,” said Peter with a grin. He caressed Steve’s cheek, “We should head down there, dinner is probably cold. And who knows how upset Rhodey is.”

“I bet Tony will take care of him. It’s probably just you and me tonight,” Steve posited, retying his apron.

“If he and Rhodey take up the main bedroom tonight, you can share my bed.”

Cap glanced over at the twin bed and chuckled, “I doubt we would both fit in that.”

“Touche,” Peter said, grabbing his laundry pile.

“Let me get that,” Steve said with a smile.

“O-oh okay.” Peter was surprised at how domestic Cap could be. He had never been so docile toward him. It was cute!

Downstairs they went, Steve to drop the laundry off in the washing machine and find a pair of pajamas in the dryer, Peter to carve out a piece of the pot pie for them both. Steve was right, Tony and Rhodey were nowhere to be found, the door to Tony’s room adorned with a single argyle sock. It made Peter think of Jamie, but he shook the thought away. It was just past midnight when he and Steve sat down at the couch to cuddle, snack, and watch some old scary movie. They would both be asleep by the end of it, stomachs and hearts full.

The next morning, Peter woke up to the sunrays pouring in through the bay windows. Already, the city was alive. He covered sleepy Steve up, started a pot of coffee, and went upstairs to start on his homework. As he sleepily nursed his cup of joe and tried to decipher his notes from the past week, a faint buzzing sound from beneath his bed came into focus.

Bzz - bzz - bzzzzzzzzzt! Bzz - bzz - bzzzzzzzzzt! 

His phone! He’d left it under the bed all night! Was it Jamie? Hastily, he dug it out from beneath the bedframe. Scrambling, he answered the phonecall without checking the ID. “Yes, hello? This is Peter. Hello?” His stomach was butterflies.

“Hi Peter, this is Mauricia. From the cafe? Could you come in today and cover Josh’s shift?”

His heart sank. It wasn’t Jamie. His thoughts stuttered. “U-uh…” he saw the police scanner in the corner of his room, a thin layer of dust topping it. “No, Mauricia. Sorry I… I can’t come in.” It was the first time in three months he had ever turned down a shift.

“--oh. Are you alright?” Mauricia sounded legitimately concerned.

“Yes, I just have a lot of homework today.” He remembered what Tony had said last night, about relationships with civilians never working out, about saving his affections for people who could understand the demands of their lifestyle. He thought of Steve. “As a matter of fact, it’s about to get really busy at school and I might need to cut back on my hours…” He could hear the swarm of customers in the background.

“You can talk to the manager about that. Thank you for letting me know, have a nice weekend.” She hung up without waiting for his answer. 

It’s time I just accept my fate, he thought to himself. The hero’s journey is often lonesome. Except he wasn’t alone, and he knew it. He was surrounded by his loving family. He set his phone aside and got to focusing on the homework at hand. When he returned to work on Tuesday he would put in his two-weeks notice. Tony could cover his college, and he could focus on training. Four hours and two cups of coffee later he closed his homework from the computer and clicked on the police scanner. He could hear Tony, Rhodey, and Steve chatting and laughing over lunch. My family he thought with a smile. He donned his suit, then called Aunt May and Pepper Potts to chat while he waited for something to come up on the scanner.

At one point, he got a message from a number he didn’t recognize. All it said was “Pumpkin Spice Latte, Extra Whipped Cream. Bring it to Broegmahn Tech, 11th floor. The secretary will let you in.”

Was it Jamie?

Probably.

Did it matter?

Not really. Especially since it was kind of a rude text.

Peter felt a sharp tug at his insides as he typed out a kind rejection. “You have the wrong number. Have a nice day, I hope you get your coffee.”

He took a deep breath, hit send, and went back to listening to the scanner.

One hoagie and 3 hours later, something came through. It was a unique alert he’d never heard before. Reports of a fish men of some sort had citizens calling the police, concerned about these fishy men doing battle in the waters of the harbor. Officially intrigued, he made his way there to observe and perhaps use it as an opportunity to get back into the swing of things. Either way, some fresh air and a good fight would help him sort out his feelings about Jamie and the cafe. He left a note for his family just in case he didn’t get back before they noticed him gone. 

It was a chilly day on the coast. He worried that when he had finally arrived the fight would be over, but he was surprised — perhaps pleasantly? — to see it was in full swing. There were two fish men, very different in appearance, battling each other with great intensity. One was blonde, dressed in blue, and appeared to have fish scales. He was clearly the stronger and more experienced one. Peter witnessed him pick up a fishing boat and hurl it at his opponent, a darker skinned man dressed in orange. The blue fish-man could fly, but the orange fish-man seemed to only have powers within the water. However, sea creatures were helping the orange one fight. At one point, a massive school of electric eels submerged, strangled, and shocked the blue fish-man at his command, though it appeared to have little effect. Spider-man swung closer, jumping and climbing onto a shipping boat nearby. With his excellent hearing, he was able to listen to their quips as each one dealt his blow against the other.

“You are a sea creature unworthy of Alantis’ recognition, yet we gave you everything and you still betrayed us!” The blue one yelled, hurling gallons upon gallons of brackish water at the weaker orange fish-man.

“Namor!” The orange one replied, “Waging war against the surface world will backfire in ways you can’t imagine! Atlantis is powerful — you are powerful — but the Avengers and so many others like them live up here. They match the Atlanteans’ power tenfold! They defeated Thanos! Your way means death to our people.”

“Our people? Atlantis is not your people. You are a mutant, born of the surface world. We are royalty. Atlantis is not your home, and it never will be. Go back to your squirrel friends. If you continue to side with those who poison our home, even the fish will come to hate you. The time has come to take back the oceans. I will awaken Calypso. Combined with my power and the power of Atlantis, we will not be defeated.” Peter could feel the ship he was sitting on begin to rumble. The water beneath it seemed to boil and shake, and soon the ship was riding tall on a gathering wave. “And now, Koi Boi, I will send you to your grave. I can’t drown you, but I can crush you.” There were screams from the shoreline, and Peter scrambled to find a way off the ship as it teetered on the top of the wave.

This was way more intense than I expected, he thought. Fish-men, who knew? As the ship hurled toward the orange fish-man, dubbed Koi Boi, at Namor’s command, Peter poised himself to take a dive and rescue him with StarkTech. Tony had thought of everything, and this suit had a submarine mode, with a bomb-proof attachment that could be used to help rescue civilians and provide them with breathable air for up to 12 hours. He just needed Koi Boi to stop swimming away from the impending wave. The further he went, the bigger the swell became. Soon he would be sucked up with it and the impact of the water might be strong enough to break the protective StarkTech shell. 

“Karen,” Peter said to the A.I. in his suit, “I need this to work.”

“You have a 50% chance of success. 48%... success rate decreasing exponentially, Mr. Parker.”

“Guess now is the time.” He jumped, swan-diving as his suit adjusted to submarine mode. He aimed, a small metal ball shooting out from his wrist and growing to accommodate Koi Boi. The ball scooped him up, and Spider-Man hit the water and retracted the now sealed ball using the special cable that attached it to his suit. The water crashed down hard above them, knocking him and Koi Boi around like a washing machine. “Karen, get us out of here,” he commanded, and his suit righted their trajectory, then piloted them far away from the bay. He turned on comms to the ball, greeted instantly by Koi Boi screaming and kicking against the walls of the contraption in an attempt to get out.

“What the fuck is this thing?!”

“Koi Boi, sir,” Peter began.

“Who the hell are you?!”

“I am Spider-Man, and I’m here to help.”

“Spider — Spider — Spiders don’t swim!”

“This one does, thanks to Tony Stark’s technology.”

“I had that handled.”

“Your blue friend was about to kill you. Had that wave gotten any bigger, the shoreline would have been gone. It’s basic math.”

“You don’t have to tell me, I graduated Empire State University.” Koi Boi was salty. Peter heard what could only be the kathunk of Koi Boi plopping down to sit inside the metal ball. “So how long do I have before the air runs out in here?”

“Twelve hours, but I’ll have you out by then. I’m taking you to Stark Industries.”

“I’m fine, you should just let me out here.”

“Do you even know where we are?”

“I know exactly where we are. 40.5167° N, 74.0497° W.”

Karen chimed in, “That is correct.”

“I know. I’m Koi Boi, it’s what I do. Anyway, we aren’t safe in the water. Namor can feel even the slightest change in the current. He can hear when a school of fish turn around on the other side of the Earth. We need to get in the air. He can fly, but he can’t detect us up there.”

“... Karen?” Peter indicated his AI adjust their course accordingly.

“Yes, Mr. Parker. Adjusting suit and safety shell for air travel. Ten minutes to Stark Industries. Mr. Stark and company are also en route.”

“Thank you, Karen.”

Koi Boi sounded annoyed, “Do you do anything yourself? Or is it all automated?”

“We do lots of things ourselves, but the tech is what helps give us an edge. I bet Mr. Stark could help you beat that Moray guy.”

“It’s Namor.” Peter couldn’t help but like the sound of Koi Boi’s voice.

“Right. He sounded pretty angry at humans.”

“He is. He means well but…”

“Some say even Thanos meant well,” Peter replied ominously.

There was silence after that. 

Upon their arrival at Stark Industries, Koi Boi was taken to a secure room and Peter was brought to the briefing room to be scolded by everyone. Peter protested their punishing tones. “I found something out that we wouldn’t have known otherwise. This Namor guy, he’s trying to attack us. I mean, he has a good reason but…”

Bruce Banner, who had been hiding away in the lab there chimed in. “Pollution is definitely a problem. You say he’s from Atlantis?”

Peter nodded his head in response, “Yes! Who knew, Atlantis being real?” Steve, Tony, Bruce, and Rhodey all exchanged knowing glances. Then Peter got it. “You… you knew about Atlantis and didn’t tell me?”

“We wanted you to focus on school,” Steve said.

“Well now you know. Welcome to the party, Namor has been on our radar for some time now. S.H.I.E.L.D. said he wasn’t a big threat.”

“I saw his fight with Koi Boi. You guys have no idea the power this guy has. He’s a fish-man who can fly!” Peter commenced with an animated description of the harbor battle he’d just witnessed, complete with sound effects, but the group just sat there trying to stifle laughter.

“He’s strong, but he’s no Thanos,” Rhodey said. “Not saying I want to have a battle even close to that again, just… he’s been saying he will attack the surface world for over a decade and so far nothing has happened.”

“Rhodes is right, Namor is powered up but has a really hard time with the followthrough,” Stark said, munching on a snack that had been waiting in his pocket since he left their New York flat hours ago. “Now this Koi Boi. No one here has heard of him and S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t around for us to ask. I had FRIDAY searching their database but nothing came up, and Fury isn’t taking calls at the moment so it’s up to us to decide what to do with him.”

“He seemed nice,” Peter posited.

“He’s just a kid,” Bruce said, “We should just let him go.”

“Well… he’s not necessarily a kid. He said he graduated university,” Peter corrected.

“Did you have a nice chat when you captured him?” Tony chided.

“Rescued. I rescued him,” Peter felt that distinction should be made.

“Right. And what else did he tell you? Anything else important?”

This was starting to feel like an interrogation. “I should probably apologize for dragging him all the way here in a metal ball…”

“Yeah, probably. Because right now he’s waxing hostile and we need to determine if he’s good or bad,” Stark chastised him. “Alright, I’ll take Pete down to make peace with our guest, you guys send a report to the others that Namor is trying to show off again. FRIDAY, run a biometrics scan on Koi Boi, see if we can’t figure out a little more about him.”

Tony led Peter, who was to be dressed in full gear, to the chamber where Koi Boi was being kept. It resembled a police interrogation room. Before he let him in, Stark stopped Peter, holding him by the shoulders. “I’m proud of you.” Peter’s head was spinning. Tony had just reprimanded him in front of everyone, but now in private he was saying he was proud? “Kid. You took the initiative, you got over your feelings for the coffee guy… you did it all on your own. So I’m proud of you. But please remember you have to be safe. Don’t go out on your own like that. Namor is powerful, and that suit will protect you but it can’t protect you as much as a whole team at your back. We would have joined you if you had just asked.”

“I understand, Mr. Stark.”

“Now go in there, apologize, and make him your friend. You’re good at seeming harmless.” Tony ruffled Peter’s hair and let him in the room, closing the door behind him.

Koi Boi was sitting at the table, arms crossed, aloof look on his face. His brown skin shimmered a bit in the fluorescent light, eyes shielded by a pair of polarized goggles. His mouth screwed into a scowl, and scoffed. “Can I go home now?”

Peter sat across from him at the silver table. “Can we talk first?” 

Koi Boi groaned in response. “I don’t know what you want from me. I need to get back to fighting Namor.”

“We already have Namor taken care of,” Peter responded.

“Right. The Avengers. But that battle is personal to me. Namor was my mentor, I know things about him you probably don’t know.”

Peter thought for a second. He knew a thing or two about having a mentor, about having a vendetta. “I can talk to Mr. Stark about you joining the team, but first we need to know more about you.” As Peter looked at him, he started to see some familiarities in Koi Boi’s face.

“Like what?”

“Well, we need to know your name.”

Koi Boi scoffed. “I don’t share that with anyone, except--”

“Except?”

“No one. Nothing.”

“Are there more of you, here in the city?”

“No, I’m the only one like me. Namor was right about some things. I’m not Atlantean, but I’m not a real human either.” There was a twinge of bitterness at the tail end of that statement.

Peter paused, feeling some shared trauma of being the only one like yourself, and not being part of the average populous. “What are your powers?” 

“I’m still learning about them… Namor was helping me. I can communicate with fish, change size in water, swim really fast… I can breathe under water, obviously, and lately I’ve been able to use electricity but only sometimes.”

“When did you first discover your powers?”

“In high school, but I hid them so I could live a normal life. Namor found me on a fraternity fishing trip, said he could help me learn to control my powers and use them for good. Turns out he just wanted to use me.” Self-pity doesn’t look good on anyone, so Pete reached his hand out and touched Koi Boi’s. Koi Boi didn’t recoil, but he didn’t look up either. Peter felt a slight spark. Electric powers? Or something more?

“Take off the goggles, I want to see you. You’re safe here.”

“Safe? I’m locked up here! You want to see what I look like? Who I am behind the costume? Let’s see you go first, Spider-Man. Are you willing to risk your privacy?”

Tony’s voice buzzed in Peter’s ear, “We figured out who he is. He’s safe. Take it off, we need him on our side. Information about Namor’s plans have surfaced and it’s not good. He’s our in.”

Peter pulled off his mask, looking Koi Boi in the eye. “I am Peter Parker. Your turn.”

Koi Boi was shocked. Reluctantly, he reached up for his goggles. He’d never shown his identity to any other “super” aside from Chipmunk Girl and Chipmunk Hunk. “I’m Ken Shiga.” The goggles were off, and Peter was in shock.

“I… I know you!”

So I just thought of this so bare with me.

Cat date au:

An au in which Tony owns a cat and his cat sneaks put one night and ends up being hoe. Peter has a cat too and Tony's cat gets Peter's cat pregnant. To make up for it Tony starts to put cat food on Peter's door step. Peter at first declines but being broke bitch decides to take it. Soon Tony and Peter get to know each other and they start to set up dates for their cats.

"I thought it would be appropriate to help out. After all it is my cat's kittens.'

"Oh. So like child support."

"Yes, kitten support."

OK this is a bit late sorry I’ve been sick the last few days :( For my anon who wanted winterspider. I don’t LOVE this one tbh but my defence is I’m not at 100% but I wanted to post something in celebration of the Avengers trailer! I hope it’s still worth a read and sorry if there’s too much buildup or too much Starker. I hope you’ll still give it a read though it’s for you my dear anon!

@anon who wanted end of the world Starker - it’s coming! Thanks for waiting and sorry for the delay :)

Warning: Smut. Also no use of lube lol.

When Bucky was seven, he had found a baby bird with a broken wing in his backyard. He had cradled it in his small hands and surprised his mom in the kitchen, who’d jumped on a chair and screamed bloody murder.

When Bucky was ten, he’d got into a fist fight during recess while protecting blind Jimmy from the class bullies.

When Bucky was twelve, he had picked up a stray kitten hiding in the dumpsters behind Charmaine’s Bakery. He had snuck it home in his backpack. Luckily his mom never questioned his new appetite for fish.

When Bucky was sixteen, he met Steve, the short, skinny new kid who he could hardly believe was his age. They had become fast friends and Bucky faithfully picked Steve first for every gym class.

Needless to say, Bucky had always been drawn to those who were weaker and smaller than him. He felt a strong desire to protect, to care. And standing a foot away from an unmasked Spiderman, smile shy with an outstretched small, delicate hand, Bucky didn’t remember feeling that protective desire as strongly as he does now. It’s only months later that he realizes that feeling is love.

Growing up, Bucky was big and people were quicker to assume he was intimidating and unfriendly from his size and his dark strong features. So he’s used to people avoiding him. The winter soldier knows, that even the Avengers, the people he sweats blood and tears with on a daily basis, are still wary of his past. Only Steve, always good and trusting, treats him like the same friend from his youth, tied by memories of playing hooky in June to go swim in the lake. And Falcon, of course, who just doesn’t give a shit.

And of course, there is Peter. Peter who has the tendency to fall from the ceiling and jump on his back from the day they were on a first name basis. Peter who brings him a fresh bag of hot churros every Thursday sparring session. Peter who is falling asleep on his cold hard shoulder on the Quinjet after today’s particularly draining mission.  

——————————————————-

“You and Peter seem to be close,” Steve says suddenly between mouthfuls of Chinese takeout.

Bucky tries not to choke. “What are you talking about?”

Steve shrugs, “Today, after our mission, I happened to see him asleep on your shoulder. I didn’t know you guys had grown so close so quickly.”

Bucky squirms. “You know Peter he’s touchy. He’s also friends with everyone. He’s even got Loki to warm up to him.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing. I think it’s great to see you’re spending time with him. I don’t think I’ve seen you smile so much as you have lately. You need more friends than just me and Sam.” Steve smiles, all white teeth and a reassuring hand on the shoulder.

“Steve shut up and eat your rice.” Bucky stutters instead. He hates when his friend gets all sentimental, which is unfortunately every day that ends in y.

———————————————————

On Thursdays, Bucky is always up before Steve has to drag his sorry ass out of bed. He unsuccessfully sneaks past his friend who smiles knowingly at him over a glass of kale smoothie.

After a three hour sweating session, Bucky and Peter are both stretched out on the mats, sore and tired. Bucky thinks if he stretches out his fingers he can brush against the tips of Peter’s comparatively warm fingertips.

“Hey Bucky, can I ask you a question?” Peter asks strangely timid, biting his lips.

Bucky coughs, tearing his eyes away from the small movement, “You’re asking? That’s rich coming from you.”

“Haha. Very funny. Ok this might be random. It IS random but…I was just wondering you know. Well…do you think I’m….like am I…amigoodlooking?”

Bucky blinks. “Sorry what was that??”

“Am I…considered attractive? Like I know you’re from from the 1900’s and standards of beauty have probably changed since then but I feel like you’d give me your honest opinion, unlike Ned who’s always feeding my ego-“ Peter breathes. “Sorry that was a stupid question. Forget I said anything.”

You’re beautiful. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Whether it’s now or a hundred years ago. Bucky says instead, “Where is this coming from?”

“I- I don’t know. I guess…” Peter sighs. “Sometimes I feel like I’m not good enough.”

For who? Bucky swallows, “That Flash kid giving you shit again?”

“What? Flash? No, who cares what Flash thinks.” Peter shakes his head.

“Then who’s opinion do you care about?”

Peter stays silent before finally saying, “I guess I just want to be seen. Not as Spiderman or as the newest Avenger.” He mumbles. “Especially not as a kid.”

Bucky feels his stomach drop. I see you. Ever since that day you held out your hand and smiled that smile to light up the whole damn city, all I’ve seen was you. “You’re two months from eighteen. What’s the rush? When you’re my age, you’re going to be flattered when people don’t offer you a seat on the subway.”

Peter snorts a laugh. “Bucky, you’ve never even taken the subway.”

“Anyways, how do you feel about pizza?” He stands, offering a metal hand out to Peter who looks glad for the change of topic.

“No pineapples this time,”

———————————————————

Two months later

Bucky is a born soldier and a trained spy. His eyes catch more than what most people pay attention to. So he’s seen the stolen glances and lingering hands months before Tony and Peter announce their new relationship. Has known for months about Peter’s feelings. But it doesn’t stop his heart from clenching at the news.

Next to Tony, looking as always, smug but genuinely happy, is Peter standing like a blushing new bride. Years at Hydra has allowed Bucky to train his face to remain stone faced, but he can’t tear his gaze away from Peter’s face and he wonders what if?

If Sam notices his punches are a lot harder that afternoon he never says a word. Although he does add an indecent amount of hot sauce in his burritos for dinner.

Bucky’s back at the Avengers tower that same night, looking for Bruce to adjust a kink in his metal arm. He heads towards the lab, passing clearance easily. When the doors open, the sight makes him freeze on the spot.

Peter looks up first eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. “Bucky!” He jumps out of Tony’s arms, hands flailing. “We - we were NOT doing anything at all!”

“You calling making out with your boyfriend on his work table nothing?” Tony drawls, crossing his arms, earning a half hearted glare from the younger boy.

Tony, on the other hand, looks completely nonplussed at their visitor’s unexpected entrance. In fact, he looks directly at Bucky. “I’m sure Barnes has seen worse,”

Bucky brushes off the loaded words with practiced ease, ignoring the lead in his chest. “Let Dr. Banner know I’m looking for him.” And he walks away from the couple. Before the doors shut behind him, he hears Peter squeak, “Tony, not now!”

Bucky thinks there are thousands of men who’d kill to be Tony Stark, for the wealth, the women, the status. He’d never been one of them until today.

He needs a drink.

———————————————————

In the morning, Bucky surprisingly doesn’t wake up with a raging hangover. He also doesn’t recognize the ceiling above him or the bed beneath him. The winter soldier stiffens.

He’s not alone on the bed. Bucky has no memory of picking up a stranger last night. He hasn’t, not since ….

There’s a moan and the body presses closer. Bucky sucks in a breath.

It’s Peter. And oh shit he’s naked. He’s naked.

Bucky had no idea how he’d ended up in bed with Peter. But he knows he has to get out of here. As insufferable as Tony is, Bucky would never do this to him. Peter is off limits. No matter how gorgeous he looks in his arms.

Bucky gulps, eyes being drawn to long eyelashes curled against the softness of his pale cheeks, and pink lips parted around small breaths. The winter soldier jerks back, realizing he had been unconsciously leaning in.

OK time to leave.

He must have lost all the grace of an assassin overnight because he falls unceremoniously onto the floor with a thump.

“Tony?” Peter whimpers at the loss of warmth, still blinking away the sleep from his eyes. “Where are you going?”

Bucky freezes at the name that escapes Peter’s pretty lips. But it’s the pain in his left arm that makes him jump on his feet. “What the fuck?!”

Peter asks, now alert. “Tony? What’s wrong?”

But Bucky can’t be bothered to correct him when his eyes are trained on both of his fleshy arms. And he notices it’s not just the arm, his limbs are slightly shorter, there’s more body hair generally everywhere and there is Iron Man’s signature glowing arc reactor planted on his chest.

Bucky runs to the washroom leaving behind a confused Peter. His suspicions are answered by the reflection in the mirror. He’s turned into freaking Tony Stark.

“Tony?!” Peter calls out.

Bucky can hear the sheets rustling. “Wait! No! Peter, sorry! Just a few minutes. I’ll be right out.” And the voice he hears is not his own gruff rumble but that of the smooth and suave tone of the one and only Iron Man.

The rustling stops.

Bucky takes a breath, risking another look in the mirror. Between having his memory wiped and fighting alien invaders, this one tops the list pretty high for crazy shit that he has to wake up to.

This was either a) a dream his sick, pathetic mind has conjured up or b) a villain who wanted to fuck with the Avengers or c) a crazy scientific experiment by Bruce gone awry. Whatever it is, Bucky knows he’s not going to figure it out in Tony’s master bathroom. He needs to talk this out with Peter who he knows is abiding his time before he crashes through the door with his super strength.

Bucky, or Tony rather, probably looks like he’s walking through a minefield as he finally creeps out of the bathroom.

“Tony!” Peter sits up, making the soldier freeze on the spot.

“Tony you’re scaring me. Is something wrong?” Peter says with a nervous chuckle.

When Bucky finally allows himself to look. He wonders if this is a dream and if it  is, it’s one he hopes he’ll never wake up from. Because Peter is sitting up on the bed, naked and half wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets, doe eyes wide with concern and love.

“Peter,” he breathes. He can’t stop himself from saying, “No…nothings wrong.”

Bucky can argue that he is just a man when his feet take him across the room in long strides to fall into the temptation in front of him.

———————————————————

“Ah!” Peter cries out as Bucky bites down a little too hard. Bucky is relentless in his attack on Peter’s neck. If this is a one night event, he’s going to reap it for all its worth.

Peter jerks when he ghosts a thumb over his nipple and bless the spider who’d bestowed this beautiful boy with such amazing sensitivity. He slowly circles the pink tip adding more pressure until Peter gasps, “Tony!”

It’s easy to ignore the name being called with the blood pulsing in his ears. Vengefully, Bucky latches his mouth around the abused nipple. “Oh god!”

Peter’s lifting his hips up searching for friction. Bucky grips his hips and forces them down, making the boy whine. “Please, Tony. I need - I need,”

Bucky grunts. “Tell me. Peter, I need you to tell me what you need me to do.”

Peter sobs, “I need you. I need you to touch me. Please touch me.”

How can he resist a mouth watering plea like that? Bucky finally grants him the touch he needs because fuck he needs it too. He groans throatily when their cocks finally glide against each other. And what a sight. His comparably larger dick angry red against Peter’s pretty little pink cock. Their pace is uneven and wild. Peter is moving hips unabashedly and Bucky needs to taste him. His tongue is in Peter’s mouth, licking into him, and skillfully sweeping every little crevice he can reach.

A thread of saliva connects them when Peter pushes him away to breath. “Tony, Tony, oh my god. I’m so close.”

Bucky drinks up the delicious sight laid out in front of him. Peter is squirming underneath him, panting from the kissing and heavy petting. It drives the soldier to push harder, to see the young boy unravel and come apart in his hands. Tony’s hands, but he pushes that voice in the fat corner of his mind. Bucky won’t let a single moment go to waste.

He abruptly stops the grinding, ignoring Peter’s whine of protest. Bucky slides down the length of this gorgeous body before swallowing Peter’s cock down.

“Oh shit!”

For all his experiences in the bedroom, Bucky has never had a dick in his mouth but it hardly seems to matter with how loud Peter is moaning. He knows what feels good to him and licks the underside of Peter’s dick all the way to the tip. Then Bucky traces his lips around Peter’s stiffness. He feels the thrill run down his back because he’s caused this. He’s the one making Peter feel this good, not Tony. And he sucks hard, taking him in deeper. Peter claws at his back, his mind half mad with sweet torturous pleasure. “Oh my god. I can’t- Tony! Oh my god shit fuck I’m coming. I’m -,”

And he comes hard. Down his throat and Bucky doesn’t let a drop leak out.

Peter is boneless on the bed, chest heaving from the intense orgasm. But Bucky is nowhere near done with him. He crawls back up to let him taste himself on his tongue. Unlike their previous ones, this kiss is slow and tender. Bucky lets two thick fingers slip in Peter’s mouth to replace his own tongue. Peter takes the cue and licks them thoroughly. The sight alone is enough to wake up his dick.

He circles the tense rim with wet fingers before meeting his lover’s eyes in a silent question. Peter’s answer is a kiss on his cheek. And Bucky feels like his heart is about to burst.

Peter staggers a breath at the slow intrusion. Bucky swears under his breath because he is so tight. He can’t wait to be inside this glorious heat. His fingering, however, gives nothing away. Bucky takes his sweet time to open him up and stretch him in preparation for his considerable size. The last thing he wants is to hurt his young lover.

Peter doesn’t appreciate his efforts at all. He has no patience, groaning and whining for Bucky to “Hurry up! I want you inside NOW.”

When Bucky is finally deep in Peter’s heat, he’s almost dizzy with pleasure. Peter fits him like a glove a size too small. So tight and so hot and he never wants to stop. There’s no semblance of his restraint when he thrusts mercilessly into the eager body. His pounding has Peter banging against the headboard. But Bucky doesn’t slow down and instead reaches out a hand to cradle Peter’s head.

“Faster, please, please. Tony! Oh god! Please I can take it. Please.”

And Bucky gives it to him. He’s fast and furious. He’s pounding so hard he’d be afraid that Peter would break if he wasn’t a superhuman with incredible healing abilities.

It’s exactly what Peter needs. He comes three times around Bucky’s cock. He hasn’t had a break between any of his orgasms because Bucky never stops. After his fourth orgasm, he’s barely dribbling. “Tony, I think it’s too much now. It hurts.”

Bucky kisses him deeply when he finally comes inside him deep and pulsing. It triggers another orgasm from Peter who starts to hiccup as he sobs through his dry orgasm.

The bigger man holds him gently, as Peter shakes and sheds the last few tears.

“Wow,” Peter breathes next to him finally coming down from his high. “Today was…different.”

Bucky holds a breath. “Different? In what way?”

“Yeah,” Peter looks up, grinning. “In the best way.

———————————————————

Peter is a vision in the morning with messy curls, lips swollen from their earlier activities and lean, bare legs swinging from the kitchen countertop. He’s balancing a plate of pancakes that’s covered in too much maple syrup and whipped cream. If the pleased little noises are anything to go by, Peter is clearly enjoying his breakfast.

“What’s up with you today? When did you ever make anything that didn’t end up with FRIDAY putting out a fire?” Peter teases.

“You’ve got a little something here.” Bucky says instead, reaching out to swipe the bit of cream from the corner of Peter’s mouth. His hands linger a second too long and Bucky retrieves his hand quickly.

Peter’s faster.

He takes the larger hand with two of his own. And Bucky watches in awe as Peter presses sweet kisses against the rough pads of each of his fingers. “Thank you.” He smiles sweetly.

The neckline of his oversized shirt falls over to reveal more tempting skin. Bucky’s eyes trail lower and he thinks about how even after all that he’s been granted in the last few hours, Peter is still wearing Tony’s shirt.

And speak of the devil. “You fucker!”

You have no idea how many people lurk on your work. No idea how many times people go back to revisit your work. How big they smile when they simply think about your work. How fast their heart beats, how excited they get when they see that you posted something.

People are shy with their feedback. Sometimes it’s because they’re simply shy. Other times it’s because they assume you already know how great and talented you are. Could be both.

AU Summary and Warnings: Tony Stark survived the snap that killed Thanos and only lost his arm, Steve Rogers has returned from his brief time travel escapades after realizing he’s not as straight as he thought he was, and his feelings for Tony went far beyond friendship. Tony, Steve, Peter, Rhodey, Pepper, and Nebula are in a polyship and were living at Stark’s private New York residence located somewhere in the city “near all the action,” also close to Peter’s school. Peter, 18, is finishing senior year. Recently, Pepper and Morgan Stark have left for upstate New York to begin Morgan’s private school. Overprotective “auntie” Nebula joined them due to her own safety concerns, leaving the boys to fend for themselves. Unknown to everyone, Tony is having a secret sciencey-fling with Bruce Banner, kept private for shy Bruce’s sake. Aunt May is on a cruise in the Bahamas.

Tony has offered to pay for Peter’s college, but Peter is being stubborn and wants to earn it for himself, so he gets a job at the local coffee shop and quickly finds a love for the job. In fact, he loves it so much that he begins to neglect his Super-Hero duties. At first Tony is supportive of a break from the dangerous life of saving New York on the daily, despite Cap’s urging Peter to take on bigger baddies and hone his skills. But they both soon realize Peter’s interest in coffee is mainly tied to a cute customer who comes in on Peter’s every shift. Unbeknownst to Peter, this customer lives a double life. This will be a serial story, updated when I have time. There will be NSFW content, each section that includes NSFW content will be marked accordingly so the reader can choose to enjoy the story while skipping the lewd parts should the desire.

Everyone in this story is 18 or older.

Tl;Dr: Adult Tom Holland Spider-Man is working as a barista post-blip. He’s in a polyship with Tony, Steve, Rhodey, Pepper, and Nebula. He has a crush on one of his patrons and is neglecting his heroic duty. There’s NSFW stuff in here. 

Part One: “Pumpkin Spice Latte, Extra Whip”

Warm yellow sun pierced through the sepia tinted windows of the coffee shop. It was a nice clear day. The taxi cabs sat bumper-to-bumper, the people hurriedly walked the sidewalks like a fashion-show runway, carrying their coats over their shoulders on this uncharacteristically warm November afternoon. A flash of green dashed through the crowd of customers as Peter Parker raced round the back entrance of the counter to clock in. His apron whooshed around him as he stopped at the register, punched in his employee ID number, and jumped into the flow of things, watching the front door intensely as he worked the hot bar with lightning speed. 

Customers loved Peter. He was quick, he never messed up a drink, and he always served with a smile. Pete’s co-workers loved him because whenever he worked, everyone got higher tips. The manager liked him because he always showed up for every shift, but she felt he could be better at the cleaning part of the job; she made sure to mention that in his quarterly review. Right on time, five minutes after 2:00 p.m., Peter’s favorite customer walked in. He told all the customers they were his favorite, but this one in particular was actually his favorite. 

The bell chimed and a man walked in, brown coat draped over his arm, gray knit sweater hugging his broad shoulders and chest just tight enough to portray a hint of modelesque musculature. This was Jamie. Jamie always wore a steel-blue tie, pulled tight around his white collared button-up shirt. Today, he sported a pair of well-fitting khaki slacks, brown oxfords, argyle socks. Clothing tells you everything about a person in New York City. Jamie’s clothes told Peter this: that Jamie had a job in the city, a real job, the kind you do in an office that looks over the hustle and bustle of the commoner’s everyday lives. Or so Peter imagined. He looked like most New York businessmen, but to Peter he was the definition of heaven. He was also unattainable. Peter rarely worked the register, due to being what the manager called “too friendly.” All his chatting with the customers slowed up the line. Unfortunately, Pete’s normal position at the bar fixing drinks kept him behind a wall of glass and noisy machines. The barrier made it near impossible to communicate effectively with customers.

His only chance was at the passthrough area, where he would set each hand-crafted beverage and call out the name of the customer it belonged to. Jamie changed up his drink often, which both frustrated and intrigued Peter. He wanted to be able to make Jamie’s drink quick enough that he could have a second to drop him his number on a napkin, but by the time Peter learned Jamie’s drink (usually three or four shifts), it was usually too late. He’d switched it up again. But Peter liked that about him, too. Jamie clearly liked to try new things. It was a good sign. 

So, as Jamie placed his order, Peter rushed to fill it before the payment was even processed. Today, Jamie ordered a pumpkin spice latte with extra whipped cream. Pete lucked out. He could make that drink in his sleep! Since the seasonal drink made its yearly debut in September, he was making hundreds of these each day. As he steamed the milk, Jamie looked over and gave him an easy smile. The light danced off his brown skin, his eyes twinkled. Peter felt his cheeks tingle with blush as he returned the grin. Milk frothed and mixed with the pumpkin spice flavor, the drink was almost complete. The payment processor beeped its approval to Jamie, and Peter raced to put the extra whip and autumn seasonings on the drink, meeting Jamie at the passthrough counter and carefully putting the lid on the cup.

As Jamie reached for the drink, Peter slipped a napkin toward him. “Don’t forget your napkins, Mr. Jamie, sir.” He’d written his number on it this morning, in preparation for this very moment.

Jamie smiled again, “Thank you, Peter. I’d hate to get coffee all over my suit.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

Jamie took the napkin and left without showing signs of having seen the number written on it. All Peter could do now was wait. Waiting was hard. The time ticked by slower than usual today, but finally it was closing time. Peter helped clean up the floor, sweeping, mopping, and wiping frantically. His co-workers joked about him having a hot date, but when Peter blushed they realized he might actually have a hot date! So they pushed him for answers as to who the mystery guy or girl could possibly be. 

“I don’t have a date, guys. It’s just that I - uh - I have school in the morning. You know, senior year and all. Gotta finish strong,” he said.

At this, Tammy the night shift manager, bursted out with her typical hyena-cackle laughter. “Okay, sure Pete, you have school on a Saturday. Dumbass, it’s Friday night. If you didn’t have a date tonight I would be worried. You need to loosen up, Peter. You can’t just stay single forever!”

Peter’s co-workers had no idea he was actually dating, like, five people, so he just grinned and laughed, “I guess you’re right! Well I have to go now, goodbye!” He clocked out and dashed out of the store as quickly as he came in. As he walked home, green apron hanging over his shoulder, visor flipped backwards, he turned on his phone and waited impatiently for the messages to load. One-by-one they came in.

Aunt May: “Just arrived at the port in Jamaica, having a lovely time on the cruise!”

Cap: “Peter, please remember to do your laundry tonight. Your room smells like feet.”

Mr. Stark: [sent you a picture message]

Ned: “LEGO building party tonight at Josh’s, are you coming? 10pm.”

Pepper: “Morgan says hi!”

MJ: “LOL You look so funny in that coffee uniform.”

But nothing from a mystery number that could possibly be Jamie’s. He responded to the messages somewhat halfheartedly, then descended the subway stairs to take the train home. Headphones in, he thought about Jamie’s smile as he was ordering. His chest felt tight again, blood pumping, music blasting. He daydreamed until his stop, then took the headphones out for his walk home. He entered the tall apartment building and took the elevator up to the top. Nothing but the best for Tony Stark and his family! The penthouse smelled of a home-cooked meal. It was Cap’s turn to cook, so they were bound to have a feast. Rhodey was setting the table and greeted him first.

“Peter! How was work?” He laid down the last fork at the big oval dining table.

“It was good, I made some tips today!” Peter put on an extra layer of cheer to compensate for the disappointment of not hearing from Jamie.

“That’s great, Pete.” Rhodey was Peter’s metamour, Tony being their shared partner. Occasionally there was tension between them. It wasn’t jealousy, but they were known for calling each other out on their bullshit, and Peter could tell Rhodey’s bullshit detector was going off.

But before Rhodes could say anything, Steve Rogers walked in carrying a turkey pot pie. His kiss-the-cook apron, denim cut-off booty-shorts, and crab-claw oven mitts really made for a unique kind of vibe far and away from the Captain America the rest of the world saw. The daisy dukes certainly showed off America’s Ass in the least wholesome of ways. Peter and Rhodey both gulped, eyeballing that thicc snack as Cap bent over the kitchen table and set it at the center. The pot-pie didn’t look too bad either. Both had been interested in Steve for quite some time, but were not sure how to approach that, since he was so newly out of the closet.

“Where’s Tony?” Steve asked, pulling the oven mitts off and reaching back to untie his apron.

“I don’t know, I just got home,” Peter shrugged, heading up the loft stairs.

Steve turned to Rhodey and asked, “What’s up with the kid? He seems off.”

Rhodey wrapped an arm around Steve’s waist and pulled him close, “Don’t you ever take that apron off.” He grinned, then released Steve and headed to the kitchen to grab the green beans and bread rolls. Steve stayed stuck there for a moment, trying to control the blush that spread across his face before going upstairs to check on Peter and find Tony.

Since Peter’s room was down the hall from Tony’s workshop, Steve decided to stop there first. He poked his head in and spotted Pete sulking at his desk, staring listlessly at his phone. Pete didn’t notice him, so he observed and admired for a minute before knocking and entering. “Hey Pete, don’t you have laundry to do?”

Startled, Peter jumped up and threw his phone under his bed. “Yes, that’s exactly what I came in here to do, laundry.” Frantically, he searched for the laundry basket. Unable to find it, he quickly picked up some of his dirty clothes and balled them up in a pile in his arms. Once his hands were full, he used his toes to pick up the boxers and socks that littered the floor.

“Pete…” Steve tried to get his attention.

“I know, Mr. Rogers it smells like feet in here…”

“Pete… well, I mean yes it does but Peter—” he stepped in front of the teen. “Peter, stop.”

“What?” Peter was clearly upset, though his face wasn’t visible behind the pile of clothing that filled his arms.

“Put the laundry down.”

“But my room smells like feet…”

“Peter.”

“Fine,” he dropped the laundry on the floor, then plopped defiantly on the bed. “What.”

Steve sat gently beside Peter. “Pete, you’re upset.”

“I am not upset, I’m fine.”

“Did you have a rough day at work?” Steve scooted closer, leaning into Peter. He smelled sweetly of coffee. Peter said nothing. “You can tell me, I’ll keep a secret.” He wrapped a reassuring arm around Peter’s shoulders.

The young man looked up at him, eyes red from both tiredness and emotions. “There’s a guy.”

“A guy?” Steve had only come out of the closet three months ago. He could feel the blush coming back to his cheeks. He glanced toward the door, secretly hoping Tony would come in and fix everything. Tony could always fix anything, especially Peter’s broken heart.

Pete sniffed. “He’s a customer. His name is Jamie.”

Suddenly suspicious, Steve perked up. “Is he the reason you turned off your police scanner and keep picking up extra shifts at the shop?”

Peter rolled his eyes and sighed. “You have no idea. How hot. He is. Like, he walks in the room and I can’t breathe. And he doesn’t even know I exist beyond that I am some guy in a green apron who works at a coffee shop.”

“I know what you mean, sport, but you so many of us here who adore you, you know?”

“I know, but…” Peter stopped and suddenly realized what Cap was insinuating, “Wait a second… Mr. Rogers are you saying you’re—?”

Just then Tony knocked on the door. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Steve stiffened up and suddenly there was a whole 12 inches between him and Peter. “Hey Tony! Peter had a rough day at work. I told him he needs to do his laundry… ah… dinner is ready, bye!” Steve bolted out of the kid’s room and down the stairs before Tony or Peter had a chance to respond.

“What’s his deal?” Tony asked, sitting down in the warm spot where Steve’s butt just was.

“I think… actually I really don’t know, Mr. Stark.” Peter stood to pick up his clothes.

“Hey, kid, come here for a second.” Tony pulled Peter back onto the bed and pinned him down, his mechanical hand caressing Peter’s cheek. Peter had a momentary flashback to that day but shook it out of his head. He focused on Tony’s piercing eyes.

“You are clearly not okay. And from what I heard, because you know I hear everything that goes on in this house, it has to do with some boy at work?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing…”

“Yes, that’s absolutely right, it is nothing. Hey. Look at me, kid.” He waited until Peter turned his head and made eye contact. “Whoever this guy is, maybe he’s cute. Maybe you even gave him your number on that little napkin from breakfast, but in the end when you’re like us, like you and me and Cap and Bruce, you just can’t date civilians. It never works out. They don’t understand the pressures of the job… or worse: they get killed. Ask any super hero you’ve ever met.”

“But you and Pepper—”

“Yes, Pepper is a special lady who also does the super hero things from time to time. Pep and I have a kid together, but there were years of turmoil before Morgan was born. Stick with what you have, dating outside our kind will only make it hard for you in the end.”

Peter sighed. “I guess… you’re probably right. He’s just so handsome, I… there’s something about him.”

“Pete, I’m not saying don’t go knocking on that door, I’m just saying… be safe about it.”