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khalixascorner · 5 days ago

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Peter who is Tony’s personal assistant - the only personal assistant who has actually stuck through him for more than two years. Prior to Peter, all of Tony’s past PA(s) were people who had resigned within 24 hours (and left in absolute tears) because they simply couldn’t cope with the stress.

Peter deals with everything; handling the older male’s hectic schedules, enduring crazy ex-partners and slighted flings who show up here and there and hey, he’s had coffee and juice, whatever-you-name it thrown in his face. Before anything even reaches Tony’s desk, be it an interview request or social invite, it’s strictly screened by Peter first.

He works round the clock basically. It’s high stress, but the monetary compensation is….Peter thinks he might be set for life if he keeps it up for another couple of years.

“So, remember, you’ve got that in-person interview with Ms Bellford at 6 today. I’ve screened all the questions, but I’ve got Happy on standby just in case she goes off script and-“

Tony frowns, “You’re not going to be there?”

“Uh-“ Peter glances up from his new yet-to-be-released Stark Industries-issued tablet. “I requested for time off for today a month and a half ago. You signed off on it.”

Tony has that particular look on his face which tells Peter that the older male doesn’t remember doing anything of that sort.

“Tony-“ Peter really can’t cancel because this is the third time he’s rescheduling this date with a guy he’s sort of hit it off with from a dating app four months ago. “I need to turn up for my date, because my social life is non-existent as it is.”

“…you don’t count being with me as socializing? Also, a date? First time I’m hearing of it.”

“You’re my boss - I have to socialize with you.”

“Ouch.”

“And it’s the first time I’m mentioning it because the previous two dates didn’t happen. But it needs to happen today because he seems somewhat decent.” Peter hopes so, at least.

Tony leans back in his chair, “Well, I hope Mr.Decent is taking you somewhere nice.”

“Mm, whatever is “nice” in my vocab would probably be “peasant-like” in yours.” Because Tony has ridiculously fancy taste. “I think it’s some fine-dining Korean restaurant in West Village.” Peter glances at his watch. “…and if I want to make a good first impression, I really need to leave.” He gives Tony an imploring look. “Uh, would it be too much to tell you not to call me if you don’t need me?”

Tony grins at Peter, teasing, “But I always need you.”

“Not this evening, you don’t.” Peter quips. “Anyway, behave, don’t terrorize the interviewer, please. She seens genuinely interested in the company’s progress, so - best behavior, please.”

“See, that’s why you need to be there. I’m always the best version of myself when you’re around.”

“Uh huh.” Peter deadpans. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr.Stark.”

- / -

“Uh…what do you mean it’s closed? I thought we made reservations.” Peter asks his date over the phone.

“Yeah, a month ago. But someone from the restaurant called me just now and said they’re closed because of a sudden emergency.”

Peter tries not to feel too bummed. He had been looking forward to dining at the restaurant since they made plans for it.

“Oh…then, should we go elsewhere?” Peter suggests.

“Well, it’s a Friday and anywhere else nice is probably fully booked out.”

Peter wonders if this third failed attempt at a date is the Universe’s way of telling him that things with this particular person is not meant to be. Look, he’s not insanely superstitious, but surely it means something?!

“…maybe next time?”

Both of them agree on next time, but Peter thinks there’s not going to be one. He sighs as he ends the call. Well, he could just order in and spend the night actually resting, but instead, Peter finds himself re-entering the office tower and making his way up to the topmost floor and back to his own personal office (truly a perk)

“Someone’s passionate about their job. What happened to a date with Mr.Decent?” Is the first thing that Tony asks when he pops in.

Peter simply sighs, and it’s then that he realizes Tony’s tie is slightly crooked. He gets out of his chair and closes the distance between them, nimble fingers adjusting the tie to sit nicely.

“The restaurant had to close all of a sudden. Last minute emergency.”

“A well-prepared man would have made back up plans.” Tony remains still as Peter fusses over him.

“I kinda thought so too.” Peter admits, hands sweeping along the lapels of his boss’s suit jacket. “It’s weird - I’m disappointed, but I’m not that disappointed?” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Well. I, for one, am glad.”

- / -

It’s Peter’s third year of overseeing that the Stark Expo runs smoothly, but it’s still as anxiety-inducing as ever. The moment Tony ends his speech, Peter heaves a sigh of relief, knowing that the most important aspect of the expo was over. Now, the attendees would be mingling and networking and Peter could finally enjoy a glass of wine. Or two.

“Can I assume that it’s finally safe to approach you?”

Peter lets out a laugh as he accepts the glass of red wine being handed to him, “Fashionably late as always, Quentin.”

“Mm, it’s on purpose really. I don’t really need to waste twenty minutes of my time listening to Stark stroke his own ego.”

Quentin Beck was one of their biggest competitors to date, and frankly, he was smart enough that it kept Tony on his toes.

“You look great.” Quentin comes in for a hug which Peter reciprocates. “It’s the third year of you handling Stark Expo, and my third time trying my luck at poaching you for myself.”

Peter had to give it to Quentin for his persistance, “Better luck next year.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Then…how about trying my luck for something non business related? Coffee, dinner?”

Peter grins up at Quentin, “Are you asking me out?” He can’t deny that that they’ve always engaged in flirty banter whenever they meet.

“Mm hmm, and I know there’s a conflict of interest somewhere, but I truly can’t bring myself to give a fuck.”

He nearly snorts the wine up his nose, playfully swatting Quentin on the shoulder. He’s giving the thought some consideration because Quentin is smart and a looker, and he’a older too, somewhere along Tony’s age, and that’s always a plus. But he doesn’t get to dwell on it much longer when Tony comes to join them.

He doesn’t seem too pleased to see Quentin, startling Peter slightly be resting his hand against the dip of Peter’s back. As if staking his claim over his own personal assistant.

“Sorry to interrupt.” He doesn’t sound apologetic at all, and Peter’s instantly whisked away before he manages to get a word out to Quentin. “What is it? Do you need something, Mr.Stark?” Peter asks, absolutely confused once they’re quite a distance away from the crowd.

Tony eases his hold slightly around Peter’s waist,” There should really be laws about fraternizing with the enemy.”

“You’re exaggerating. You know how Quentin is.”

“Yes, and I don’t like it one bit of how he was looking at you.”

“…careful, Mr.Stark. Your jealousy’s showing.”

Peter waits for Tony to laugh, but it doesn’t come.

No way Tony Stark is jealous.

Peter doesn’t know what to do all of a sudden, not with his boss staring him down. He’s self-conscious of their proximity all of a sudden.

“Mr.Stark-“

“I don’t really take too well to sharing, both professionally and personally.”

- / -

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khalixascorner · 2 months ago

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Ahhhh just read this a second time and I loved it even more. Thank you so much for this wonderful fic (and sorry I forgot to leave a message the first time I read it).

Peter's Stand

A gift for @khalixascorner, inspired by Will Smith slapping Chris Rock at the Oscars

also on ao3

(this one's not very team cap friendly, sorry!)

“Tony, are you sure about this?”

Peter had posed the question more times than Tony could count, which was a rather impressive amount in his opinion, but Tony couldn’t fault him for wanting to make sure. The Rogues had left him wounded in every sense of the word. If their positions were reversed, Tony wouldn’t have allowed the Rogues to return even if the president himself demanded it. He understood the wariness on Peter’s part and was comforted by his concern.

“Yes,” Tony confirmed, though he didn’t look happy to do it. “I don’t want them near me, but we need to work with them if we want to keep the world safe.”

Peter took hold of his hands. “Don’t feel pressured to see them more than you absolutely have to. I’ll try to stick by you whenever you go to the compound.”

For emphasis, he allowed his fingers to stick to Tony’s hands, trapping them in his grip with his spider-like capabilities.

Tony smiled, clinging on tighter. Peter’s grasp was one he would never try to escape. “You don’t have to do that, Pete. I can handle them.”

“I don’t want you to have to,” Peter argued. “I’ll be with you every time. Tell them I’m a controlling boyfriend if they need an excuse.”

Tony outright laughed in his face. “Like you could ever be controlling.”

“They wouldn’t know either way,” Peter said slyly.

Tony tugged him into his chest, taking advantage of their glued hands. Peter let go and wrapped his arms around Tony instead, his head gravitating towards the crook of Tony’s neck without a thought.

“I love you, you know that?” Tony asked quietly. “Thank you for supporting me.”

Peter pressed a soft kiss onto Tony’s neck, relishing its gentle warmth. Not too hot, not too cold. Perfect. Alive.

It hadn’t been that way the last time Tony saw Steve Rogers. And now, Steve was coming home, free to haunt Tony as he pleased.

Not if I have anything to say about it, Peter seethed.

The UN thought it would be best if the Rogues and Avengers had their reunion in the public eye, during a fundraiser. They figured it would be the simplest way to keep matters cordial and polite. They couldn’t exactly have a brawl if they were surrounded by press and young fans.

Peter understood the logic, but it didn’t stop him from yearning for a private meeting. He didn’t want Tony to have to face the Rogues in front of an audience after all the time they spent apart. He wanted Tony to be able to speak his mind freely, to have the option to leave if he got overwhelmed.

That wasn’t possible, so all Peter could do was hover over Tony, antsy on his behalf. To his credit, Tony remained cool and collected in the face of shouting paparazzi. His press smile was on full display when children, teens, and adults alike scampered up to him with phones in hand.

It was only when he caught sight of Natasha that he faltered.

Peter placed a soothing hand on the small of his back. If Natasha was here, Clint was bound to be nearby. Where Clint was, Wanda was likely to be, and with Wanda would be Steve. Bucky and Sam couldn’t be far-off. Their reunion was fast approaching.

“We can leave any time you want, okay?” Peter murmured, voice low. “The UN will get over it.”

Tony gave him a strained smile in return. “You go have fun. This would be a good chance to network.”

“There will be other events,” Peter dismissed.

“Not with all these politicians,” Tony pointed out. “It helps to have the government in your pocket.”

Peter eyed the room with a grimace. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The obtrusive grumble of a throat being cleared behind them derailed any further attempts Tony might have made at convincing Peter to leave. They turned towards the sound at once, identical expressions of dread on full display of their faces. Peter’s hand moved from Tony’s back to grip his waist, reminding him of his presence. Tony wasn’t alone anymore and would never have to be again if Peter had a say in it.

Steve Rogers stood before them, blond hair gleaming beneath the light, broad-shouldered and handsome as ever. The smile he graced them with was almost patronizing in its wideness.

“Hey, Tony.”

Tony stiffened beneath Peter’s hand, at a loss for words for the first time in his life. Peter gave him a reassuring squeeze and stepped forward, pulling Steve’s attention to himself.

“Peter Parker,” he introduced himself. “Tony’s boyfriend.”

He made no move to offer Steve his hand, but Steve had no qualms about acting buddy-buddy. He stretched his hand out toward Peter, his pearly whites on show as he waited for Peter to clasp it in his. Peter reluctantly took hold of his hand, making a point of squeezing it just tightly enough to make the super soldier wince.

Steve let go, rubbing his hand. “You’re enhanced?”

“I’m still discovering my limits,” Peter admitted, a thinly-veiled threat in his voice.

It did not go unnoticed by Steve, who said defensively, “I would never hurt Tony.”

“Again, you mean?” Peter scowled.

“All right, boys, let’s not do this here,” drawled Natasha. Peter had hardly noticed her appearance, focused as he was on Steve. “Steve, you’re up on stage in five. They’re looking for you.”

Steve nodded at them curtly and strode away, immediately swept into the sea of people surrounding them. Peter felt Tony relax a miniscule amount once Steve was out of sight.

Natasha faced them now, looking Peter over curiously before turning her gaze on Tony, who met her eyes head-on.

“Tony,” she acknowledged.

Tony pursed his lips. “Romanoff.”

“Peter,” Peter piped up, unable to help himself despite the gravity of the situation. His small outburst was worth the embarrassment for the smile that twitched on Tony’s lips.

Natasha turned to him. “Peter Parker, was it? And you’re enhanced. I suppose Tony never could’ve dated someone normal. You’re a good match.”

Peter preened. Getting the people in his life, as well as the watchful public, to accept his relationship with Tony was a battle and a half. To have acceptance be so readily granted to him was refreshing.

“We’ll be finding our seats now,” Tony said tersely. “See you around.”

Without further ado, Tony steered them toward their assigned table, leaving Natasha behind. Mercifully, the Avengers weren’t seated with the Rogues. It would have made for an uncomfortable dinner on all sides. Peter’s hand fell from Tony’s waist at last, reaching for his hand instead.

“Are you okay?” he murmured.

Tony gave a jerky nod. “Never better.”

“Don’t do that,” Peter pleaded. “You know I’m not falling for that.”

Tony sighed deeply. “I’m fine, Pete. I’ll let you know if I need a breather.”

Peter pressed a kiss to his cheek as they reached their table. They were seated side by side, the only other occupants of their table a diplomat from Germany and a woman Peter vaguely recognized from a movie. The moment they took their seats, a waiter rushed forward with a bottle of champagne, filling their glasses wordlessly and retreating. He was gone before Peter could thank him.

Tony exchanged pleasantries with their tablemates, who were understandably more eager to meet him than Peter. They gave him cursory glances in an effort to be polite, but Peter didn’t mind the lack of attention. He wanted Tony to get his mind off of the Rogues.

The chatter in the room lessened when the lights focused on the stage. A woman stood at the center with a microphone in hand, offering the crowd an excited smile. Peter wished he could share in her excitement.

“Good evening,” she began. “It’s undeniable that the past couple of years have been rough, what with the Avengers disbanding due to the legislation being pushed by the UN. Fortunately, the Avengers and the UN have worked closely to create a version of the Accords they all find agreeable. Today, the Avengers reunite once more and we get our heroes back!”

The audience clapped, although some of it seemed half-hearted. Tony’s hands remained limply in his lap.

“Allow me to welcome on stage Steve Rogers, our very own Captain America.” The woman stepped to the side, handing the microphone to Steve before he claimed his spot at the center.

Steve brandished a wide smile at the cameras. “Hey, everybody. Thanks for coming out. The team and I are happier than you can imagine to finally be home. We appreciate all the support and patience we were given during these trying times.

“As you know, tonight is about more than our reunion. It’s about helping those in need. The Avengers and Stark Industries are hosting a fundraiser in an effort to give young minds the education they deserve.”

Steve paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the crowd as if searching for his next words. Peter could feel Tony stiffen beside him, his knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the table.

“And I have to say,” Steve continued, “working with Stark Industries again is a privilege. I’ve known a few Starks in my time, and while they all seem to have a thing for fast cars, pretty women, and big explosions, one thing is clear—they know how to gear up the team and open their wallets when it counts.”

The crowd chuckled, a polite, hollow sound that stung in Peter’s ears. He glanced at Tony, who was sitting rigidly beside him. Tony’s jaw was clenched, his fingers drumming restlessly on the table. There was no humor in his expression. No smile, no acknowledgment that Steve’s words had any weight. Just the mask of a man who had been torn apart and glued back together a thousand times.

Peter’s hand found Tony’s knee, squeezing gently, but Tony didn’t look down. His eyes remained on Steve. Peter knew it wasn’t just about the words. It was everything Steve represented—the betrayal, the old scars, the things Tony would never be able to forget.

Peter felt his chest tighten. He couldn’t let Steve keep going. Not like this.

Before he could second-guess himself, Peter was on his feet, moving toward the stage. He didn’t hear the murmur of the crowd, didn’t see the flash of cameras. All he saw was Steve, that self-assured, arrogant smile, the same one that had haunted Tony for years.

Steve turned at the sound of Peter’s footsteps, brows raised in surprise. “Peter Parker,” he said, his smile only widening. “Didn’t see you there.”

Peter didn’t wait for him to finish. His fist landed squarely on Steve’s jaw with a satisfying crack. The mic went silent as Steve stumbled back, blinking in shock.

“What the hell—” Steve started, but Peter didn’t give him the chance to speak. He grabbed the mic, his heart pounding in his chest.

“You don’t get to talk about him like that,” Peter’s voice rang out, steady despite the rush of adrenaline. “You don’t get to reduce him to some outdated caricature while standing on a stage funded by his generosity. You don’t get to ignore everything he’s done. Everything he’s sacrificed.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed, but Peter wasn’t backing down. He stepped forward, staring him down. “He’s saved the world more times than anyone can count, and you—” Peter pointed a finger, voice growing sharp with each word. “You think you can just make jokes at his expense? Think again.”

The crowd was silent. Time seemed to stretch, hanging in the air, thick with tension.

Peter let the mic drop, the thud of it hitting the stage floor echoing like a punctuation mark. He turned on his heel, walking back toward Tony with his head held high. He could feel the weight of every eye on him, but he didn’t care. He didn’t need to look back.

When he reached the table, he didn’t say a word at first. He just held out his hand to Tony, who was still frozen in his seat, eyes wide but a faint smile playing on his lips. Peter didn’t wait for Tony to stand. He pulled him into a quick hug, pressing his cheek against Tony’s.

Tony’s hand rested lightly on his back, fingers digging into his shirt, but there was something new there—something softer, something like gratitude.

Peter pulled back and whispered, “Let’s go, yeah?”

Tony’s gaze softened as he met Peter’s eyes. “Yeah,” he said, the word coming out more like a sigh of relief. “Let’s go.”

With that, they turned and walked out together, leaving behind a room full of shocked faces, the echoes of their quiet defiance ringing in the air.

#starker #ironspider #starkerscoopwrites #peter's stand fic

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