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captinamericashusband · 5 months ago

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Sober Thoughts | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Stark!Male!Reader

REUPLOAD A/N: Hi. It is currently 12:41 AM – another restless night unfortunately sigh. After watching a YouTube video of someone reading the infamous Harry Potter fanfiction My Immortal (I love you Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way), I became filled with unbridled inspiration to write something of my own. Anyways, enjoy! Also this is the very first fanfiction I’ve ever written. Please please please (by Sabrina Carpenter) give constructive feedback that won’t be too harsh on my little soul. This’ll be a fluffy fanfic. I'll dabble in smut later on maybe if y'all enjoy this enough...teehee. Happy BRAT summer/autumn 💚

P.S. Any errors you see will be excused by the fact English is not my first language and NOT because I suck at writing and revising ;) This fic will also be posted on Ao3 after they accept my invitation. Pls let me in Ao3.

Sober Thoughts

Word count: 4.7k

Summary: Y/N gets very drunk in front of Steve

Warnings: Alcohol, profanity

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Being the son of Pepper Potts and the eccentric billionaire, playboy and philanthropist (in that exact order) Tony Stark came with its fair share of drawbacks. While financial security was a given for Y/N, a side that came with this coverage was endless PR events. Being the sole heir to the Stark company, Y/N was forcefully thrusted into the public eye at a very young age, constantly forced to appear at social gatherings for the general public to gain somewhat of a perception of him – hopefully for the better. Today was one of these socially exhausting days, and perhaps his least favourite event of all – the annual ‘Stark Gala: proceeds going to various charities!’ A boring name he is very well aware of, and yes the ‘proceeds going to various charities’ line was annoyingly part of the title – something he had so valiantly fought Tony on, albeit unsuccessfully.

The gala starts in 2 hours. Currently, in stereotypical Stark fashion, Y/N lay sedentary on his bed, staring at the ceiling whilst pondering for ways to escape the tiring event. Amidst his angsty mood, a knock arose from his door followed by Tony entering his room.

“Hey bud, no more moping around,” he said after flipping the light switch in Y/N's room, “gala’s not gonna dance itself.”

Y/N turned and laid on his belly, eyes stuffed into his pillow in an attempt to suppress the bright lights, “What if I just don’t come, dad? Just chalk my absence to a cold for the press, please. I have no will nor strength to do this.”

“You know you can’t do that, Y/N/N. The public requests you grace them with your holy presence at the gala.”

“Dad, what if I just set fire to the venue?”

Tony scoffed at his son's comment. “Don’t bother with that sassy attitude, kid. It’ll be over in a flash. Just enjoy, grab some drinks – and hey you might even find yourself a nice date there.” He said, adjusting a frame on the wall. “My best advice is mingle until your mouth falls off – my dad used to say that to me.”

As Tony continued slightly tidying Y/N's room, a muffled groan erupted from his pillow. Y/N knew he was very well right; there was no escaping. Resigning to his fate, he abruptly stood up from his bed and began rummaging through his closet. “Fine. I’m going because I want to go, not because you’re forcing me to.”

Tony chuckled and ruffled Y/N's hair. “That’s the spirit, champ. I promise you these things can be fun if you let them. Soak up the atmosphere. And enjoy the drinks.” He then murmured, “Just not too much, as well ‘cause…you know.”

Tony’s sudden shift in tone was in reference to Y/N's relationship with alcohol. While Tony was notorious for being able to hold his liquor, the alcohol-tolerance gene had unfortunately not been passed down to his son. The last time Y/N drank, which had been at Clint’s birthday party, he had somehow woken up inside of a dumpster – not even exaggerating. Another time, he had taken a plane to Washington and found himself passed out on a bench outside the Pentagon – also not a hyperbole. Aware of this knowledge, Y/N planned on getting absolutely wasted in order to pass the time and to make the night somewhat memorable.

Y/N ran a hand through his hair attempting to fix it whilst looking for proper attire. “Yes, yes I know, father figure. Do you promise it won’t be boring like last year?”

Tony feigned an offended look, putting his palm against his chest. “Boring? There was an open bar and a chocolate fountain – all appearing again this year, by the way. What more could a man ask for?”

“To not come.” Y/N said begrudgingly.

“Okay well sometimes certain things can’t be provided, sugar plum.” A grimace found itself on Y/N's face after hearing the nickname. Before he could respond, Tony was already halfway through the door. “Anyways, be ready by 8; we’re leaving at 8:30 sharp.”

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The night was, to say the least, already an absolute dread. Upon arriving at the upper-echelon-esque museum where the gala was being held, Y/N was already drained. After exiting the limousine that took both him and Tony to the museum, a torrent of camera flashes had blinded Y/N. Furthermore, before even entering the museum, a news reporter had shoved a microphone into his face and asked a very invasive question about his lovelife. Before Y/N could insult the reporter’s rude behaviour, Tony quickly grabbed his arm and ushered him into the museum.

It was very well aware by the public of Y/N's choice of abstaining from dating, never really having any serious relationships. This was especially questionable for the public considering who his father was, with everyone believing Y/N would’ve followed in lieu of his behaviour during his 20’s.

However, what the public didn’t know was that the reason for Y/N's singleness was because of one of his dad’s blonde colleagues (that wasn’t Thor). Y/N's crush for Steve Rogers AKA Captain America had simmered for the last few months. It began during an incident in the Avenger’s Compound in which the inherent Stark idiocy had decided to bite Y/N severely in the ass.

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It had been late at night and Y/N had been tinkering on some project in one of Tony’s spare workshops in the compound when his phone suddenly rang. Picking it up, he saw Tony was calling him. He paused the music blaring in the workshop’s speakers before answering his dad.

“Hey bud, I have a favour to ask.”

“What is it, father figure?” He set down a screwdriver he was holding down on the workshop table.

“First, you know I hate it when you call me that. Second, there are some files that were delivered to my office that need to be put into storage in the room beside the training area. Would you mind doing it for me?”

“And why can’t you get Happy or yourself to do it?”

“Well I am actually currently at dinner right now with your mother and we are having a blast right now, and Happy is enjoying a paid holiday in the Bahamas.”

With an overexaggerated sigh, Y/N hung up on Tony and accepted without further question.

Heading towards Tony’s office, he marvelled at the emptiness of the Avenger’s Compound. While he never interacted much with the Avengers, only in passing, he was aware that some of them were nightowlers. However, there really was no one. Usually, there would be at least a SHIELD agent somewhere, but tonight the building was completely desolate.

Upon arriving at Tony’s office, Y/N immediately noticed the large boxes propped on his dad's desk. He had clearly underestimated the sizes of the office boxes, with one he (very dramatically) guesstimated being the size of his torso’s length with a width of a baby whale. Unfortunately for him, there were 5 boxes in total. Being the impatient ass he is, he had decided to carry all of the boxes in one go to spare himself having to return to Tony’s office for a second trip. He noticeably struggled and after leaving Tony’s office, he immediately regretted his decision, wishing he inherited more of his mother’s patience. From a bystander's perspective, it was a comical sight seeing Y/N Stark carrying a tower of boxes almost twice his height.

After rounding a sharp corner – something that could’ve been easily avoided considering the size of the building’s hallways – Y/N crashed right into another person. Y/N, along with the boxes, crashed loudly and painfully against the cement floor.

"Shit," Y/N said out loud. The embarrassment from the predicament was too much for him, so he opted for keeping his eyes on the ground, seemingly becoming very interested in the flooring's designed patterns. He stayed in that position, wallowing in his shame until the other person he had forgotten about spoke up.

"Sorry about that, kid." A low and husky voice spoke above Y/N. Y/N moved his eyes from the floor to the other man in the hallway. He was met with piercing blue eyes and a head of light blonde hair. Great. Not only had he embarrassed himself in front of someone, but that certain someone had to be Captain America of all people. Flashing the best smile he could conjure, Y/N stood up from the floor in an attempt to save as much face as possible.

"No, no, it was all my fault Steve," Y/N chirped. Wow, he sounded like a complete wimp. Not only that, but he called Captain America by his actual legal government name. Y/N did not consider himself close enough to call Captain America Steve. The situation was further going off the rails as they both stood in an uncomfortable silence for what seemed like forever. Suddenly, Steve spoke again, breaking the suffocating air of awkwardness.

"Need help with those." Steve said, smiling slightly at Y/N. Thinking back on it now, it was definitely the smile that got Y/N hooked into Steve. With a curt nod, both of the men started cleaning the mess of files. "Do these need to be in a specific order?" Steve questioned. Quite frankly, Y/N did not care for the files' order; he was much more preoccupied with the strange feeling down in his stomach. He slapped himself internally before answering Steve.

"I'm not sure actually. The person reading these can decipher that themself." Steve chuckled at his words. An actual, genuine laugh. Y/N found whatever he said to not be as funny Steve was making it out to be. But nevertheless, good job Y/N! You made Captain America laugh at something you said! After tidying the files, the two of them started walking, Y/N in the lead with Steve following in his stead.

"Where to, Stark Jr.?"

"The storage room by the training grounds."

The walk to the files' designated area was filled with silence – not uncomfortable like before, but instead a somewhat pleasant quiet. Deciding to be bold, Y/N asked Steve a question.

"What do you do all day?" Wow, Y/N didn't intend on that sounding as rude as it did.

"What do you mean?" Steve responded.

"Like, what do you do when there isn't a mission where you have to save the world or anything." Great save, Y/N said to himself.

"Well, if there isn't a mission I usually train in the gym – nothing bad in doing some extra training. Other than that, I usually visit SHIELD's headquarters to do business that I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." He turned and smiled at Y/N after saying the last part. The strange feeling was there again.

"That honestly sounds like a miserable existence." Y/N said. Steve laughed and Y/N smiled, proud of himself for making Captain America laugh a second time this night. "Do you have any actual free time at all?"

"The only time we get to ourselves are weekends. I typically go for jogs in the morning then catch up on any work I didn't get to finish from the weekday. By the time I finish, it's already pretty late at night." As Steve continued to talk, Y/N couldn't help but sneak glances at him. Y/N had noticed a smile was etched on Steve's face and he wondered if it was because Steve enjoyed his company or if he was merely entertained by their topic of conversation. "If I have any time to spare, I like to draw. I've started taking painting classes recently."

Y/N debated on whether or not to make a joke about Steve's work and him not "finishing" fast enough, but thought it was too weird even for him. "Wow, even on your day off your life sounds bland – aside from the drawing part I guess." Steve had laughed once more at what Y/N said, and Y/N silently applauded himself once again.

Steve's smile persisted despite Y/N's slight insult to his daily life. "My turn to ask. What do you do all day? I never see you around that much."

"That's 'cause I'm usually cooped up in a lab somewhere doing tech stuff I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." Steve chuckled again. "If I'm not doing techy stuff, then I'm usually doing boring paperwork for Stark industries. And if I'm not doing that, I'm sleeping peacefully in my bed."

"Now I'm offended by you calling my life bland when yours’ is equally as boring, Y/N," Steve joked.

"It'd be more exciting if you were in it." Oh Y/N, what exactly are you saying now? Suddenly, the signature Stark flirtiness accumulated within Y/N as the next words left his lips. "You should join me on my bed sometime." Oh sweet Jesus. Even Y/N himself shriveled from pure disgust at what he just said. It wasn't even a remotely good pickup line. He fully expected Steve to bolt away as soon as possible and leave him behind with the behemoth-sized boxes.

Before Steve could respond, the pair found themselves in front of the storage room. Steve opened the door for Y/N who could only mumble a quiet thanks in response as he was still shaken up from his earlier misspeaking. Finding a secluded table in the room, Y/N set down the boxes with Steve following in suit. The two then exited the room and found themselves in yet again another uncomfortable silence. Before Y/N could hurriedly escape, Steve spoke.

"You should get out of your lab more. I'd like to see more of you around if that's possible." Upon hearing that, the feeling from earlier was present again in Y/N's stomach except it had been exponentially stronger this time. "I enjoyed talking with you, Y/N."

It was as if Y/N had lost any inkling of social awareness as he said his next remark. "You'd practically have to pry me off a workbench with those big arms of yours, Steve."

Steve only laughed in response, clearly somewhat amused by Y/N's bold eccentricity. "I'll see you around, Y/N." Steve started walking away before suddenly turning around with a smirk on his mouth. "Oh, and I'll take you up on that earlier offer."

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Ironically enough, Y/N and Steve have yet to converse with each other again after their brief encounter. This was mainly due to Y/N avoiding Steve after having said his embarrassing comments – especially about Steve's arms, something Y/N can't help but gag at upon reflection. Looking back at their moment together, Y/N can only sigh and hope the super soldier forgot about his humiliating behaviour.

Looking around the museum, Y/N stared in awe at the inside's appearance. The building itself had replicated the architecture and grandeur of Ancient Greece, with large columns on the building's interior and exterior. While the building itself was an architectural beauty, what really stood out were the floral decorations garnered around the room, both on the tables surrounding the middle of the museum designated as a dance floor and hanging in between the interior pillars. Y/N had to remind himself to find his mother later, who arrived hours earlier to help decorate, and commend her keen taste in floral arrangements.

Y/N's moment taking in the interior decor was interrupted when he was approached by Tony and a stubby man wearing a suit. Tony introduced the man to Y/N who turned out to be one of Stark Industries' business partners. Nothing notable was said in their conversation aside from numbers and Y/N's vision for the future of Stark Industries. This was how the first half of the night went: Tony introduced Y/N to one of his business partners, boring conversations about logistics would ensue, Y/N was asked about his ideas on Stark Industries' future – rinse and repeat. After numerous runs of this seemingly perpetual cycle, Y/N's social battery had been absolutely drained and Operation Get-Drunk-And-Pass-Out was set in motion. Excusing himself from Tony's presence, Y/N ran a beeline towards the bar, his stride swift with determination to get his hands on anything alcoholic.

Taking a seat at the bar, Y/N began thinking about what he would drink. Suddenly forgetting every alcoholic beverage that ever existed, he waved down the bartender to get his first drink of the night. "I'd like whatever will get me the most piss-faced, please." The bartender simply gave him a cordial smile and nod before pouring a single clear liquid into a small shot glass. He then gave Y/N the glass who before drinking said, "bottoms up." The mystery liquid was absolutely repulsive and scorched Y/N's throat. His face puckered up in pain, eyes shut as tears formed at the brim of his ducts. "Jesus, dude, what is this!?"

"Everclear." The man answered with a very thick Russian accent. Y/N had no idea what that was nor was aware of its very high alcoholic percentage, almost being pure alcohol. What he did know was the vile taste and painful burn signified it was able to get him 100% wasted.

"I'll take 10 more of those, please."

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At shot four, Y/N's vision had started getting blurry, his lips and skin felt tingly, and he kept laughing at the most nonsensical things to laugh at. His drunkenness was made very apparent for everyone at the bar when he pointed towards someone's poorly trimmed goatee and laughed maniacally at it. While his actions had been in poor-taste and he was making a grand fool of himself, Y/N could care less as he revelled with his newly acquainted friend, Everclear.

Before downing shot number five, a man had approached and sat beside Y/N and began ordering. To his surprise, Captain America in the flesh had situated himself beside him at the bar. Knowing Y/N's already embarrassing encounter with him sober, only God knows what was about to ensue between the two of them while he was intoxicated.

“Enjoying the night, Mr. America?” Y/N slurred.

“Clearly not as much as you, Y/N.” Steve responded. He was currently sporting a classic black and white tux with a dark blue tie. His attire, while as basic and stereotypical as they come for a formal event, suited him perfectly. Being the idiot Y/N was while drunk, the spike of confidence that surged within him caused him to comment on Steve's appearance.

Y/N leaned towards Steve, getting very close in his personal space, then saying, “apologies, Captain, but you sure do look ravishing if I do say so myself. I’m proud to be an American.” Y/N giggled at himself while Steve looked at him with an amused expression.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re flirting with me, Y/N.” Steve said, flashing his captivating smile. Y/N stared at him with dazed eyes before leaning back and downing his fifth shot of liquid courage.

"Maybe I am flirting with you, Steve. That's what I was doing last time we talked in case you didn't realize."

"Yes, you were quite subtle the last time we spoke." He said sarcastically. He took a sip of whatever he ordered from the bar before continuing. "Speaking of, I've been meaning to talk to you ever since that night, but I could never get a hold of you."

Y/N laughed, not knowing if Steve actually knew why he hasn't seen him since or if he really was oblivious. "Well, Steve, I was avoiding you because I made a fool of myself the last time we talked." A hiccup came out of Y/N's throat. "And then I said to myself, 'Steve probably thinks I'm weird so I'll avoid him to prevent any further embarrassment'."

"Well, I really did enjoy our conversation last time, Y/N. I mean it."

Similar to their last encounter, a wave of deafening silence consumed the pair's conversation, the awkward tension causing Y/N to become slightly sober. Fortunately for him, the alcohol was still very much prevalent in his bloodstream, giving him enough confidence to break the awkward silence.

"Sometimes I wish I could just run away – leave this life behind and escape to some deserted island.” Y/N glanced towards Steve who was already looking at him. "It's too much at times – this life."

"It would be easier if you had someone with you for the journey."

Y/N looked at him, feigning an incredulous look. "Are you implying with your word choice, manner of speaking and overall cadence that you want to be that person for me?" Y/N laughed, scoffed was more like it. "I'd say you're the person flirting with me, Steve."

Steve chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving Y/N. "Maybe I am, Y/N."

Y/N could only stare at him as his heart skipped a beat. Perhaps it was the alcohol messing with his senses and disposition, but his usual wit was gone and he was speechless – a rare moment for Starks. Noticing his hesitation, Steve leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a near whisper.

"Y/N, you don't have to go through this life alone. I've seen through your father how hard it can be for someone in your position. But you don't have to bear it all by yourself."

"Do you really mean that, Steve? Or are you just saying all this because I'm drunk and pathetic." Y/N's voice wavered, the confidence he had during their last encounter was noticeably absent.

Steve reached out, placing a hand on Y/N's shoulder. "I've noticed you, Y/N. Even though we haven't talked much, I can already tell you're a special person. You're more than just Tony Stark's kid. There's something unique about you. And I want to get to know you more."

The butterflies Y/N felt during their last encounter returned and did pirouettes in his stomach. "I don't know what to say, Steve."

"You don't have to say anything right now. Just know I'll be here and I won't be leaving anytime soon."

Y/N looked at Steve, a whirlwind of emotions torpedoing inside of him. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel so alone. The confidence suddenly returned and a smile braced itself on Y/N's face. "Are you technically asking me out?"

Steve only laughed in response before standing up and saying, "I can take you home now if you want."

Y/N quickly stood up. "Oh yes please, Steve. Another minute in here and I think I'll have an aneurysm." As the two started walking, a sudden wave of a burdening reminder of his father's presence washed over Y/N. "Wait, I can't leave – dad said I-."

Before Y/N could finish, Steve quickly interrupted him. "I think everyone here, including Tony, can see you're in no condition to be here any longer."

Y/N could only nod, too exhausted to protest. As they exited the building Y/N's head grew heavy, and it gently fell onto Steve’s shoulder. Steve tensed for a moment, then relaxed as his arm slowly wrapped around Y/N’s waist, pulling him closer. “Take me home, Steve,” Y/N mumbled softly against his shoulder, his breath warm against Steve’s neck.

"That's what I'm doing right now, Y/N." Steve said softly.

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After exiting the building, Steve hailed one of the idle limousines across the museum. He had to carefully slide in Y/N's body before sliding in beside him.

The ride back to the Avenger's Compound was quiet and tranquil, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the earlier evening. Steve glanced at his watch - it said 3:33 AM - then turned his gaze towards Y/N's sleeping body leaning against the car window. A small dribble of saliva was escaping the corners of his mouth, and Steve quietly chuckled.

"I can feel you looking at me. Cut it out."

"Unfortunately, I can't seem to stop my eyes from lingering on things I find beautiful." Y/N could only blush at Steve's unexpectedly sappy words, unaware the super soldier had it in him to be a corny romantic.

"You're no better than any other man, Steve Rogers," Y/N teased, though his voice was softer than before. Steve smiled, but was interrupted by a loud yawn erupting from his mouth. Abruptly, Y/N sat up straight from his slouched position, suddenly remembering something in his drunken haze. "You know, you still have yet to cash in on my offer, Steve."

"You mean your offer to be in bed with you?" Steve asked, his tone in between amusement and curiosity.

Y/N eagerly nodded. "I wouldn't mind if that happened tonight."

Steve's head turned at a concerning speed that definitely would've given a normal person severe whiplash. He gave Y/N a stern yet somber look, one that carried warmth with a reprimanding undertone behind it. "I'm not going to sleep with you, Y/N. I mean, you're drunk and that would be me taking advantage of you – I'd like to think you expect better from me."

Y/N blinked, looking both very offended and embarrassed. "That is absolutely not what I meant, Steve, you naughty man!" He crossed his arms and sunk into the limo's soft leather seats. "I meant that it would be nice if we just laid and went to sleep together...I just don't want to be alone tonight."

Steve's expression softened immediately, understanding the vulnerability behind Y/N's words. Their eyes met, a silent agreement shared between them, filling the rest of the ride with warmth from their comforting connection.

As the car grew quiet again, Y/N, emboldened by the last remnants of alcohol in his system, threw one more cheeky remark towards Steve. "But you would have sex with me, right?"

Steve laughed, his head shaking, but the tenderness in his smile spoke volumes. "Get some rest, Y/N. We'll talk in the morning."

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Y/N stirred awake in his bed, his eyes wincing as the harsh rays pierced through a gap between his bedroom curtains. His head pounded, and a wave of nausea met him immediately. Unable to fight it, Y/N ran to his bathroom, purging the contents of last night's festivities in his toilet. It was quite a horrid sight.

After what seemed like hours, Y/N exited from his bathroom, wanting to get more sleep. Stumbling back to his bed, he noticed the large body-shaped mound from underneath his blankets. Frightened, he approached it cautiously, scared of the idea of having drunkenly slept with a stranger.

Slowly uncovering the body, Y/N was met with the peaceful sight of a sleeping Captain America. Steve's chest rose and fell steadily, lips parted as he took even breaths. Then, the events of the previous night came rushing back to him like a semi-good dream and Y/N mentally facepalmed himself. However, while he internally scolded himself for his embarrassing behaviour, he also congratulated himself for having been somewhat successful in his endeavours of pursuing Steve.

Laying back down gingerly beside Steve, Y/N grabbed his phone from the nightstand. The time was 11:11 AM and Y/N silently made a wish to himself. He noticed he had received 10 missed calls and nearly 50+ messages from his dad. Thinking it was regarding his early leave from the gala, Y/N decided to deal with his father later, still exhausted from the night before. Opening Twitter (he refused to call it 'X'), Y/N's eyebrows furrowed as he saw his name trending alongside 'Steve Rogers' and 'Captain America.' A knot formed in his stomach and he decided to Google his name. The urge to puke suddenly returned as he was met with a news article reading:

‘Hottest New Couple in NYC?! – Captain America & Y/N Stark Seen Seen Getting Cozy During Annual Stark Gala’

Below the headline was a picture snapped of Steve and Y/N at the bar, Steve leaning closely towards Y/N as both shared very flirtatious smiles towards each other. Y/N groaned loudly, causing Steve to stir awake. Today was going to be PR hell.

FIN

A/N: This actually took multiple days to write and while rereading it it's actually really corny? But, fanfic writing is actually kind of fun, I might do it more. Anyways, hope you enjoyed :) Also sorry for any mistakes I'm too lazy to revise

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amethystarachnid · 3 months ago

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MRS. STARK

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 8k

ᯓ★ TW(s): mentions of kids, mentions of pregnancy (only at the end), paparazzis are a pain in the ass

ᯓ★ Timeline: not in a defined timeline, more like an AU

ᯓ★ Request: Tony stark × marriage of convenience au Tony loses his company reputation because of his playboy reputation. The board of directors demands that he fix this. Pepper suggests an arranged marriage for this. At that moment, he meets reader who is evicted from her home and needs money and proposes. In time, love develops between them. (@binsan)

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

You pace the small, dingy room you’ve called home for the past few years, the weight of eviction papers heavy in your hand. The landlord's voice echoes in your mind—“You’ve got two weeks. I can’t do this anymore.” It’s not as though you didn’t see this coming. The bills have piled up, and opportunities have been scarce. With no family to turn to and nowhere to go, you wonder how much lower things can get.

As you sit on the fraying edge of your sofa, rubbing your temples, you wonder what your next move could be. The clock ticks steadily, matching the racing thoughts in your mind. I need a miracle, you think, feeling the weight of your situation press down on you.

Meanwhile, across the city, Tony Stark is having his own personal crisis.

Tony lounges in a sleek leather chair in his office at Stark Industries, the weight of the boardroom conversation still lingering in the air. His playboy reputation, once charming and even beneficial to his image, has started to backfire. The board of directors is growing impatient—no, they’re furious—and they’ve made it crystal clear that his antics are ruining the company’s reputation. Something needs to change. Immediately.

Pepper Potts, his ever-practical assistant, stands across from him, arms crossed as she regards him with a mixture of sympathy and exasperation.

“We need damage control,” she says, her voice steady but firm. “The media is eating up every single party, every single fling. They don’t take you seriously anymore, and frankly, neither does the board.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, taking a casual sip of whiskey. “What’s your plan, Potts? A heartfelt apology tour? I’ll have to fit that between saving the world and engineering cutting-edge tech, you know.”

Pepper doesn’t flinch. “You need stability. Something solid, responsible. The kind of image that reassures people you’re not just a billionaire playboy. You need…” She hesitates, as if weighing her next words carefully. “…a wife.”

Tony nearly chokes on his drink, coughing out a laugh. “A wife? Are you serious?”

“Dead serious, Tony.” Pepper’s eyes narrow. “The board will back off if they see you’ve settled down. It shows commitment. That you're thinking long-term. And if the right woman is involved—someone respectable—then maybe people will start seeing you as the man behind the genius, not just the man at the party.”

Tony leans back, considering her words more seriously than he expected to. Marriage had never been on his radar—it’s never even been a blip. But this is different. A strategic move. A necessary one.

“Alright, say I’m interested,” he says slowly. “Where do you propose I find a wife willing to marry me for show?”

Pepper sighs. “There are plenty of women—”

“I’m not interested in one of those society climbers, Pepper. I don’t need anyone looking for a fifteen-minute spotlight or a big payout.”

Just as Tony is about to dismiss the entire conversation, the door to his office swings open. You stand there, slightly out of breath, a bundle of papers clutched to your chest.

Pepper blinks in surprise, but Tony just arches an eyebrow. “And you are?”

“I’m—” You pause, taking a breath. “I need to talk to someone. My home—” you stammer, fumbling with the words, "—I was told to come here. You helped my mother years ago. She said—if I ever needed anything—”

Tony watches you, his expression unreadable, though his eyes flicker with curiosity.

“Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place for help,” he says, his tone shifting from mild annoyance to sudden interest. “Why don’t you sit down? Let’s talk.”

You cautiously take a seat across from him, feeling out of place in his luxurious office. You’ve heard the stories about Tony Stark—the genius, the billionaire, the womanizer. But in this moment, you can’t afford to care about any of that. You need help, and he’s your last shot.

“Let me guess,” Tony says, leaning forward. “You’re about to lose your home. You need money. And you have nowhere to turn.”

You glance at Pepper, who looks back at you with quiet understanding, then back at Tony. “Yes,” you whisper, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on you.

He leans back again, studying you for a long moment before something shifts in his expression. A thought flickers across his mind—a spark of an idea. And then, he smiles.

“Let’s make a deal,” Tony says suddenly. His voice is calm, calculated. “I need a wife. You need a home. How do you feel about an arrangement that benefits both of us?”

Your heart stutters in your chest. “A wife?”

Tony nods. “It’s purely business. You marry me, I’ll make sure you never have to worry about money again. You’ll have everything you need—home, security, whatever. And in return, I get the board off my back. Simple.”

You blink at him, trying to process the whirlwind offer that’s just been thrown at you. It sounds insane. But then again, your whole life has become a series of impossible situations lately. And this one…well, this one comes with a solution, even if it’s wrapped in the strangest of packages.

Tony leans in, eyes locked with yours, a hint of a challenge in his voice. “What do you say?”

You sit there, staring at him as though he’s just suggested you rob a bank together. His words hang heavy in the air, and your mind races to catch up. A wife? Marry Tony Stark? The idea sounds absurd, but as your thoughts turn back to your eviction notice, you realize you might not have a choice. Desperation has a way of forcing your hand, and this—this could be your way out.

Tony watches you, his expression still unreadable, though there’s a glint in his eyes that makes you wonder if he’s enjoying your discomfort a little too much. He’s waiting for your answer, clearly expecting you to be as quick and sharp as he is.

“You’re serious?” you manage to say, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“Dead serious,” Tony replies, the smirk on his face both charming and infuriating at the same time. “It’s a win-win situation. You get stability, I get a new image. We play the part for the public, keep the board happy, and in a year or two, we go our separate ways. Clean and simple.”

You stare at him, searching for any sign that this is some kind of joke, some twisted billionaire’s game. But there’s nothing playful about his gaze now. Tony Stark might be a lot of things—reckless, arrogant, brilliant—but he’s not someone who wastes time.

“What’s in it for you, really?” you ask, folding your arms defensively. “Why me? You could marry anyone—some model or socialite who would be more than happy to play the part. Why pick a random woman off the street?”

“Because you’re not a model or a socialite,” he says simply, his voice dropping a little lower. “I don’t need someone who’s after the spotlight or my bank account. I need someone who won’t get in my way. Someone who’ll keep this business.”

He pauses, watching your reaction carefully. “You don’t seem like the type to get tangled in the drama. You just need help. And that’s the kind of deal I can work with.”

You feel a lump form in your throat. It’s true—he's offering you a way out of a sinking ship. A home. Security. All the things that have been slipping through your fingers, one by one. But still, the idea of entering into a fake marriage with Tony Stark? You’d be lying if you said the thought didn’t terrify you. You’ve seen the headlines, the rumors about his womanizing ways. Could you really trust him? Could you even pull this off?

And yet, the alternative is worse. A life of uncertainty.

“Why would anyone believe it?” you ask, biting your lip as you try to find holes in the plan. “I mean…we just met. People will see through it.”

Tony chuckles softly, leaning back in his chair, a picture of relaxed confidence. “Oh, believe me, people will believe it. I’ve built an entire career on controlling the narrative. I know how to spin a story. We’ll have a whirlwind romance, some well-placed public appearances, maybe a dramatic proposal. Before you know it, the world will be eating out of our hands.”

You inhale sharply, your mind still racing. Everything about this feels so…surreal. And yet, as crazy as it sounds, it’s starting to make sense. At least from a practical standpoint.

Tony watches you closely, as though sensing the shift in your thoughts. “Look, I’m not asking you to love me, or even like me,” he says, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “This is just an arrangement. You get what you need, I get what I need. And once it’s done, you walk away with enough money to start a new life, debt-free. No strings attached.”

The words no strings attached seem to echo in your mind. You swallow hard, looking down at your hands as you twist them nervously in your lap. It’s a cold, transactional proposal. And yet…you can’t deny that it makes sense.

“What’s the catch?” you ask quietly. There has to be one. With someone like Tony Stark, there’s always a catch.

He tilts his head slightly, considering your question before shrugging. “The only catch is that for a while, you’ll be living in my world. That means the media, the attention, and probably some uncomfortable dinners with people who think they’re more important than they are. It won’t be easy.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you weigh your options. It’s not like you have many left. The thought of staying in this small, cramped room, waiting for the inevitable eviction, is unbearable. And as much as the idea of marrying Tony Stark terrifies you, it also feels like a lifeline being thrown at the last possible second.

“So?” Tony leans forward, his gaze steady on yours. “What do you say?”

You bite your lip, the papers in your hand crinkling slightly under your grip. This might be your last chance. Your final way out.

“Alright,” you whisper, barely believing the words coming out of your mouth. “I’ll do it.”

A slow, satisfied smile spreads across Tony’s face, and he extends his hand across the desk. “Then we’ve got a deal.”

You stare at his hand for a moment before slowly reaching out to shake it, sealing the arrangement that’s about to change your life in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.

As your hand clasps his, the weight of what you've just agreed to settles in. You're about to become Mrs. Stark — at least for the world to see. And as daunting as that may be, it’s still better than the alternative.

You meet his gaze, feeling a strange mix of fear, excitement, and something else you can’t quite name.

This is only the beginning.

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The next few weeks unfold in a blur of public appearances, carefully crafted smiles, and whispered conversations behind closed doors. You and Tony play the parts well, slipping into the roles of an unexpected, whirlwind romance. The media eats it up.

The first date is a public affair—dinner at a five-star restaurant in downtown Manhattan. The paparazzi are already outside when you arrive, cameras flashing like fireworks as Tony steps out of his sleek black car, offering you a hand. You take it, the warmth of his touch feeling almost foreign despite the fact you’ve grown used to his presence.

You force a smile, heart racing as you hear the shouts of photographers calling out for a picture, for a smile, for a kiss. Tony leans down, whispering in your ear, "You’re doing great. Just breathe."

It’s strange—how natural he makes it seem, how easy it is for him to slip into this version of himself, the attentive, doting boyfriend. To the world, Tony Stark is charming, smooth, and infatuated with you. And you? You’re the mystery woman who somehow captured the billionaire’s heart.

Inside the restaurant, things are a little less chaotic. You sit across from Tony, the intimate lighting making the scene feel more private than it really is. But the cameras are still there, outside the windows, snapping away.

“So,” Tony says, his voice low as he leans in, folding his hands casually on the table. “How’s the food? Pretending to enjoy yourself yet?”

You smirk, rolling your eyes as you push a piece of food around your plate. “Oh, I’m absolutely swooning. Can’t believe how lucky I am to be here with you.”

Tony chuckles, leaning back in his chair, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Good. Keep it up. The more they buy this, the less we have to deal with later.”

It’s a game. A performance. One that you both know the rules to. But as the weeks pass and the dates pile up, something shifts.

The next outing is a stroll through Central Park, and the one after that is a charity gala where Tony's hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you through a sea of high-society types who eye you curiously, wondering what you did to catch the elusive Tony Stark. And despite how staged everything is, there are moments where Tony seems less like the playboy billionaire and more…human. Moments where he cracks a joke, and you find yourself laughing a little too genuinely, or when he holds a door for you, and you catch the briefest flicker of something unguarded in his eyes.

But you’re careful to remind yourself: this is all business. You’re not here to fall for Tony Stark. You’re here to save yourself.

After weeks of these public outings, the media frenzy reaches its peak when Tony finally sets the stage for the proposal. You’ve both discussed it already—how it has to be big, dramatic, a spectacle that leaves no room for doubt.

You're dressed in a stunning gown, attending yet another high-profile charity event. The ballroom is packed, every face in the room belonging to someone rich or influential. The press is buzzing, and you can feel the weight of a thousand eyes on you.

Tony has been his usual charming self all evening, but there’s something different in the way he looks at you tonight. Almost as if this moment means something more to him. You push the thought aside, focusing on playing your part.

Just as the night seems to be winding down, Tony stands, clinking his glass to get everyone’s attention. The room falls silent, and your heart starts to pound. This is it.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Tony’s voice is smooth, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’m not usually one for speeches, but tonight, I need to break that habit. Because I have something important to say.”

The crowd watches, captivated, as Tony walks toward you, his steps slow and deliberate. Your breath catches in your throat as he stops in front of you, taking your hand.

“I’ve spent my life building things,” he says, his voice echoing through the room. “My company. My legacy. But in all that time, I never thought I’d find someone who’d make me want to build something else. Something personal. Something real.”

He drops to one knee, and for a second, the world around you seems to freeze. The gasps from the audience are barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat. He pulls out a ring, the diamond glittering under the chandeliers.

“I’m asking you, right here, in front of everyone, to make this official. Will you marry me?”

It’s all a show, of course. The practiced speech, the perfectly timed down-on-one-knee moment. But as you stare down at him, ring in hand, something about it feels too real. His eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, you forget that this is all a charade.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to remember the contract, the deal you made in private. This isn’t real. It never was. It’s just for the cameras, for the board, for the company. But still, you manage to smile as you nod.

“Yes,” you say softly, the word slipping from your lips like it belongs to another version of you. “I’ll marry you.”

The room erupts into applause, but you barely hear it. Tony slips the ring onto your finger, standing to pull you into an embrace. His arms wrap around you, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, “Perfect. Now they’ll back off.”

Behind closed doors, things are starkly different. The moment you leave the public eye, Tony is already in his office, the papers spread out on his desk. You stand beside him, the diamond ring on your finger suddenly feeling heavy, reminding you of the weight of the bargain you’ve struck.

Tony flips through the pages with a calm, focused expression, glancing at you briefly. “Three years,” he says, tapping the contract. “That’s the timeline. We stay married, let the public eat it up, and after three years, we go our separate ways.”

You nod, staring at the paperwork. Your eyes catch the clause that’s been added in bold: Upon the dissolution of the marriage, Y/N will receive a sum sufficient to cover all debts and ensure financial stability for the foreseeable future.

“Once the board sees I’ve settled down, they’ll loosen their grip. By the time we’re done, you’ll have more than enough to start fresh,” Tony continues, his voice businesslike. “No strings attached. Clean break.”

You sign the papers without hesitation, feeling a strange mix of relief and something else—something you can’t quite name—as your pen scratches across the line. This is what you agreed to. It’s what you need.

But as you set the pen down, you catch Tony’s gaze, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he feels it too. The tension between what’s real and what’s part of the arrangement. The way his touch lingers a little longer than necessary when the cameras aren’t around. The way his eyes sometimes soften when they meet yours.

But before you can dwell on it, he stands, slipping the contract into a folder. “We’re good to go,” he says, his tone brisk again. “Now let’s give them the show of a lifetime.”

And so, with the contract signed and the terms laid out, you walk back into the world together—Tony Stark’s fiancée, destined for a picture-perfect marriage that will end exactly when it’s supposed to. Three years from now, you’ll walk away with everything you need.

Or at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

The galas become routine, a swirl of elegant gowns, expensive champagne, and the murmur of voices in rooms filled with wealth and influence. You’ve perfected the role by now—Tony’s perfect fiancée, charming, poised, always ready with a smile and the practiced story of how you two “met.”

The backstory you and Tony crafted is flawless, and it’s become second nature to you. You met at a charity event, of course. Something respectable, something that would explain why a billionaire like Tony Stark would fall for a woman like you—someone who wasn’t already a fixture of his high-society world.

Tonight’s gala is no different. The room is packed with the usual mix of celebrities, business moguls, and old-money aristocrats. You stand beside Tony, your arm linked through his as you make your way through the crowd, the warm glow of chandeliers overhead. Tony’s hand rests on the small of your back, and even though it’s all part of the act, you can’t ignore the comfort of his presence anymore.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice draws your attention, and you turn to see a woman with a dazzling smile approaching. She’s dripping in diamonds, her manicured hand clutching a flute of champagne. “You two look amazing tonight. I swear, every time I see you, you just glow more. It’s like you were made to be by Tony’s side.”

You smile graciously, the practiced ease of it making you feel a little guilty. “Thank you, that’s so kind.”

She leans in, eyes twinkling. “I just love your story. It’s so romantic! I mean, meeting at a charity gala and then falling in love like that? It’s like something out of a movie. How lucky are you?”

Lucky. You bite back the irony of that word, nodding instead. “It was unexpected, but…fate works in mysterious ways, right?”

“Oh, definitely! Tony must’ve been swept off his feet the moment he saw you,” she says with a conspiratorial wink, clearly enjoying the idea of the elusive Tony Stark being anything but untouchable.

You glance at Tony, who’s deep in conversation with some business associates nearby, the cool confidence never leaving his face. You know the truth behind that first meeting—how he found you when you were at your lowest, desperate and vulnerable. But none of these people will ever know that. To them, this is a fairy tale. And you? You’re the lucky girl who got to marry the prince.

Another couple approaches, and the cycle begins again. Compliments, questions about the wedding, and endless retellings of your "love story." You smile through it all, playing your part perfectly, while Tony occasionally sends a reassuring glance your way. He knows how exhausting these events can be, but it’s all part of the plan. You keep up the charade for the media, the board, and everyone else who needs to believe this romance is real.

The wedding comes faster than you expected. After months of public appearances, interviews, and carefully orchestrated photo ops, the big day is finally here. It’s everything the world expects it to be—grand, lavish, and utterly flawless.

The ceremony takes place in a sprawling estate, the gardens decorated with flowers that seem to stretch on for miles. The guest list is as exclusive as it gets—celebrities, politicians, business moguls. The kind of wedding that would dominate headlines for weeks, exactly as planned.

You stand in front of a full-length mirror, staring at yourself in the wedding gown. It’s breathtaking, really. The lace and silk hug your body perfectly, the veil trailing behind you like something out of a dream. It should feel like a fantasy, but there’s something surreal about the whole thing.

Pepper walks in, smiling softly at you as she adjusts your veil. “You look beautiful,” she says, her voice gentle. “Everything’s set. The press is buzzing already.”

You nod, taking a deep breath as you stare at your reflection, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach. This is it. The moment where you and Tony take your fake relationship to the next level in the eyes of the world.

Pepper gives you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before stepping out, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The ceremony begins, and you make your way down the aisle, each step feeling heavier than the last. Your heart pounds in your chest as you see Tony standing at the altar, looking impossibly dashing in his tailored suit. His eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, the world around you fades.

You force a smile, reminding yourself this is all part of the plan. But as you approach him, something changes. The look in his eyes is different—there’s a softness there, a vulnerability you haven’t seen before. It throws you off guard, and suddenly, you’re not so sure if this is just an act anymore.

The officiant begins, and you stand there, hand in hand with Tony, reciting the vows you both know are meant to be temporary. But with each word spoken, the lines between what’s real and what’s pretend blur just a little more.

“I, Anthony, take you, Y/N, to be my lawfully wedded wife…”

His voice is steady, but there’s something in his tone that makes your breath catch. You stare at him, searching his face for any sign that he’s just playing the part like you are. But in this moment, with the whole world watching, it almost feels like something else.

“I, Y/N, take you, Anthony, to be my lawfully wedded husband…”

The words slip from your lips, and as you say them, they feel heavier than you expected. Your heart beats faster as Tony’s thumb brushes lightly over the back of your hand. The gesture is so small, so intimate, that for a moment you forget everything—the contract, the deal, the carefully planned charade.

The officiant asks if there are any objections, and the crowd is silent, holding their collective breath. You can feel Tony’s eyes on you, and when he lifts your veil, the world seems to slow.

He leans in, his lips brushing yours, and for that brief, fleeting moment, it feels real. The kiss is soft, hesitant, as if neither of you are sure where the line between pretend and reality is anymore. The applause erupts, but all you can hear is the pounding of your own heartbeat.

You pull away, your eyes locking with his, and for just a second, there’s something unspoken between you. Something that neither of you are willing to admit.

But then the moment passes, and Tony’s signature smirk returns as he lifts your hand, showing off the ring to the crowd. The cameras flash, the guests cheer, and just like that, you’re Mrs. Stark—at least in the eyes of the world.

As the reception begins, you can’t shake the feeling that something changed between you two at that altar. Something neither of you expected. But before you can dwell on it too much, Tony is by your side, his arm slipping around your waist as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Stark. You’ve officially survived the hardest part.” His tone is playful, but when you glance up at him, there’s a flicker of something deeper in his gaze.

You force a smile, nodding as you look out over the sea of guests. You’ve done it. You’ve played your part perfectly.

But deep down, you can’t help but wonder: Was it all still just an act? Or did something real happen between you and Tony in that brief, unguarded moment?

You push the thought aside, reminding yourself of the contract, of the plan. In three years, this will all be over, and you’ll walk away debt-free, just as promised.

But for now, you’re Mrs. Stark. And for better or for worse, that’s the role you have to play.

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The first few months of marriage pass in a delicate dance of closeness and distance. You and Tony keep up appearances for the press and the public, playing your parts to perfection. The media can't get enough of the two of you—the glamorous, whirlwind couple that keeps everyone talking. But behind closed doors, things are changing. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, the boundaries of your arrangement begin to blur.

At home, away from the cameras and prying eyes, Tony is different. It starts with small gestures. He brings you coffee in the mornings, just the way you like it, without you ever asking. You catch him looking at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, his expression softer than the public version of Tony Stark. It’s in the way he lingers when you pass each other in the hallway, his hand brushing yours just a little longer than necessary, his gaze lingering a little too long.

The nights spent in the massive Stark Tower feel less like a performance and more like something genuine. You find yourselves talking late into the night—about everything, about nothing. Sometimes it’s about work, other times it’s about things neither of you have shared with anyone else. Tony talks about his parents, about how lonely it was growing up despite all the wealth and success. You open up about your life before all of this, the struggles, the dreams you gave up on, and the ones you still hope for.

There are moments when it almost feels real—like you’re not playing a part anymore. Moments when Tony’s laugh is so genuine, so unguarded, that you forget this is all temporary. There are nights when he falls asleep next to you on the couch after watching some terrible movie you both made fun of the entire time, his arm slung over the back of the sofa, just barely touching you. And when he stirs in his sleep and pulls you a little closer, you don’t pull away.

You tell yourself it’s still part of the arrangement—that none of this changes the contract or the plan. But deep down, you know better. This isn’t just about saving his reputation anymore. Somewhere along the line, things got complicated.

But as the months pass, the press starts to ask questions. At first, they’re subtle—tiny, whispered headlines about the perfect couple, alluding to the next big story. “Stark Wedding Still the Talk of the Town,” they say. But then, the speculation begins to shift.

“When are the Starks Starting a Family?” The headline is plastered on the front of every tabloid, and soon it’s the only thing people want to know.

You notice it at the galas, in the way people casually ask about your future plans with a knowing smile, as if it’s only a matter of time before you announce a pregnancy.

“Any little Starks running around soon?” A woman asks you one night at an event, her voice dripping with curiosity as she sips her champagne. You force a smile, your practiced response already prepared.

“Oh, we’re just enjoying married life for now,” you say, deflecting the question as you’ve done a hundred times before. But it’s getting harder to avoid. The press is relentless, constantly speculating about why you and Tony haven’t started a family yet.

And then one night, during a quiet dinner at home, Tony brings it up.

“We need to address this,” he says, setting down his wine glass and looking at you seriously. “The whole ‘when are you having kids’ thing. It’s becoming an issue.”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling a knot of tension forming in your chest. “What do you mean?”

“The press. The board. Hell, even Pepper has been asking me about it.” He leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “They think if we don’t at least make it look like we’re planning to have kids, the whole marriage thing starts looking fake.”

You swallow, the weight of his words settling in. You’ve known this day would come—that eventually, people would start to question the validity of your marriage if they didn’t see the next logical step. But you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Or to feel so…complicated.

“And what do you want to do about it?” you ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

Tony looks at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. “We can’t have kids. Not under this arrangement,” he says, his voice careful, measured. “That’s too far. We’ve been keeping everything business, and that… that’s different.”

You nod, relief and something else—something like disappointment—washing over you. The idea of having a child with Tony never even crossed your mind. It would complicate everything, not just the contract but your own tangled feelings.

“But,” Tony continues, his tone shifting as if he’s trying to solve one of his impossible engineering problems, “we could make it look like we’re…trying. Just enough to keep people off our backs.”

You stare at him, feeling a strange tightness in your chest. The idea of pretending to try for a family seems too intimate, too close to something real. But you understand what he’s saying. It’s part of the performance. Just like everything else.

“And what does that look like?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

Tony shrugs, but there’s an edge of discomfort to his usually confident demeanor. “We drop a few hints. Let the media speculate. Maybe mention something in an interview about how we’re not ruling it out. We don’t have to do anything drastic, just… give them something to talk about.”

You nod, knowing that it’s the logical next step. But as you sit there, staring at him across the table, you can’t shake the feeling that pretending to plan a family feels more dangerous than anything else you’ve done so far. Because even though the idea of kids has never been part of the equation, the thought of what that implies—what it means for the two of you—makes your heart race.

The truth is, things have changed between you and Tony. You’re not just business partners playing a role anymore. Somewhere along the way, you’ve become…something else. And the thought of what that might mean, of what you could become, scares you more than anything.

Tony watches you carefully, as if he’s trying to gauge your reaction. For a moment, there’s silence between you, thick with unspoken things. And then he says, almost too softly, “This isn’t what either of us signed up for. I know that. But… I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not comfortable with.”

You look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. It’s the closest either of you has come to acknowledging that things between you have become more complicated than just a contract.

“I’m okay with it,” you say quietly, though you’re not sure if that’s entirely true. But it’s the only answer you can give right now. “We can give them something to talk about. We’ve handled worse, right?”

Tony’s smile is small, almost sad, and for a brief moment, you wonder what would happen if things were different—if this weren’t just an arrangement. If the feelings that had started to bloom between you weren’t confined by the terms of a contract set to expire in three years.

But you push the thought away, telling yourself that none of this can be real. Not the lingering touches, not the late-night conversations, not the way your heart skips a beat when Tony’s gaze lingers on you a little too long.

Because it’s all still part of the plan. Isn’t it?

The press will get their story about you and Tony “trying for a family,” and you’ll continue to play your part. But behind closed doors, where the cameras can’t reach, the lines between performance and reality are growing more and more blurred.

And neither of you seems quite sure where one ends and the other begins anymore.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The media frenzy never really stops. Every event, every gala, every time you and Tony are seen in public, the question of starting a family hangs in the air like a cloud, waiting to burst. At first, you both handle it with practiced ease—hinting at possibilities, making vague remarks about enjoying married life for now. The press eats it up, but as the months drag on, the whispers grow louder.

“Are the Starks having trouble conceiving?” “Is there tension in the Stark household?”

The headlines shift from speculation about when you’ll have children to rumors about why you haven’t yet. It’s a delicate dance, one that requires both you and Tony to show the right amount of affection in public, but with subtle hints of strain.

You both knew this would happen. The plan was to invent a story, an excuse that would explain why the perfect couple—the marriage that saved Tony’s reputation—was struggling to take that next step. And so, the story was crafted. You and Tony were “trying,” but it wasn’t working out. The media took the bait, sympathy replacing the pressure, as reporters switched from prying into your marriage to speculating about the emotional toll of fertility struggles.

It’s a brilliant strategy, really. The public buys it, the board of directors remains satisfied that Tony’s personal life is still under control, and you keep the illusion alive. But behind closed doors, things are different. The tension between you and Tony isn’t from some fabricated difficulty of trying for children—it’s from the unspoken truth neither of you can fully face.

Time is running out.

Three years. That was the deal.

You and Tony sit in front of the fireplace in the penthouse one night, the crackling warmth filling the space as the two of you remain lost in your own thoughts. The contract’s expiration date is approaching, looming over both of you like a shadow.

Tony leans back in his chair, his drink untouched beside him. He’s been quieter lately, more thoughtful, but you chalk it up to the usual pressures of running Stark Industries. Or at least, you tell yourself that’s all it is. But deep down, you know something has shifted. It’s been building slowly, a subtle tension, one you can’t quite place but feel all the same.

“You know,” Tony says suddenly, breaking the silence, “we’ve been doing a hell of a job keeping this thing going.” His voice is casual, but there’s an edge to it, a seriousness that pulls at something inside you.

You nod, turning to face him. “Yeah, we have.”

“And the press,” he continues, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. “They’ve got their story. We’ve given them everything they need. Sympathy, speculation, the whole package.”

You know where this is going, and the weight in your chest tightens. He’s bringing it up—the end. The divorce. The part of the plan that always seemed so far away, until now. You’ve kept the charade alive for years, and now it’s time to walk away, just like you agreed.

“Right,” you say softly, your voice catching in your throat.

But Tony doesn’t stop there. He stands, pacing slightly, his hands shoved in his pockets. His brow is furrowed, his face caught in that thoughtful expression he gets when he’s working through something complicated.

“Look, we’ve played this game long enough. And you’ve held up your end. More than held up your end, actually.” He pauses, glancing at you. “So, we could, you know…call it.”

You stare at him, feeling the weight of the conversation settle heavily on your shoulders. This is it. The moment where everything unravels, where you go back to being two people with separate lives.

But Tony isn’t looking at you with the same confidence he usually has when he’s broaching a difficult subject. He seems…uncertain. As if he’s weighing something deeper, something he hasn’t fully admitted yet.

You take a breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “Yeah. That’s what we agreed on, right?”

There’s a pause. Tony walks over to the window, staring out at the city below. His reflection is visible in the glass, but his expression is unreadable.

“We did,” he says, but the conviction in his voice is missing.

You watch him, waiting for him to say something more, to tell you what’s really on his mind. The silence between you stretches, the unspoken things hanging heavy in the air. It’s as if both of you are waiting for the other to say what neither of you is ready to admit.

“Tony…” you start, but he cuts you off, turning to face you, his eyes more serious than you’ve ever seen them.

“Y/N, I don’t think I can do this.”

Your heart skips a beat. For a moment, you’re not sure what he means. “Do what?”

He steps closer, his gaze locking onto yours, intense and raw. “Divorce you. Let you go. Walk away and pretend like none of this ever happened.”

The air between you shifts, charged with a tension that’s been building for months, maybe longer. Tony’s words hang there, vulnerable and exposed, and it hits you all at once—this isn’t just about the deal anymore.

“Tony…” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

He closes the distance between you, his hands reaching for yours, his grip warm and strong. “I know this wasn’t part of the plan. I know we were supposed to walk away after three years and never look back, but…” He pauses, swallowing hard. “But I don’t want that.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Tony’s eyes search yours, his expression raw in a way you’ve never seen before. The walls he always keeps up, the armor he wears in public, are completely gone now.

“This thing between us, it’s not just for show anymore. I thought I could keep it separate—business and personal—but I can’t. I care about you. And I know we agreed that this was temporary, but it doesn’t feel temporary to me anymore.”

The truth you’ve been avoiding, denying to yourself for so long, crashes over you. It’s not just him. It’s you, too. Somewhere along the way, between the public dates and the private moments, the late-night conversations and the quiet mornings, you’ve fallen for him. Despite all your attempts to keep this arrangement strictly professional, you’ve found yourself caring more than you ever thought possible.

You stare at him, your heart racing. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” He exhales, his voice softening. “I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. I don’t want to walk away from this. From us.” He pauses, his gaze never leaving yours. “I love you.”

It feels like the world stops for a moment. His words hang in the air between you, and you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

Your hand tightens around his, your voice trembling slightly as you reply, “I love you too, Tony.”

It’s the first time either of you has admitted it, the first time you’ve said it out loud. And suddenly, everything clicks into place. This was never just an arrangement, not for either of you. Somewhere along the way, it became real.

Tony steps closer, cupping your face with his hands, his eyes soft and full of emotion. “Then let’s forget the contract. Forget the plan. Let’s do this for real.”

You nod, tears welling up in your eyes as you lean into him, his lips brushing yours in a tender, genuine kiss. The kiss feels like a promise, like the beginning of something you’ve both been building toward without even realizing it.

The contract, the public charade, the expectations—it all falls away. This isn’t about saving Tony’s reputation anymore. It’s about the two of you, finally being honest with yourselves, and with each other.

You pull back slightly, smiling through the tears. “No more pretending.”

“No more pretending,” Tony agrees, his smile mirroring yours as he kisses you again, this time with the weight of everything left unsaid now spoken. The future no longer feels like a ticking clock or an obligation to a deal. It feels like a life you’ve both chosen—together.

The night Tony confesses his love changes everything. The walls that once separated the two of you—the boundaries of your arrangement—come crashing down. That night, for the first time, everything feels real, not just in your hearts but in the way you move together, shedding the last vestiges of the deal that brought you into each other's lives.

After Tony’s confession, the two of you barely make it to the bedroom, too consumed by the need to be closer, to feel each other in a way that wasn’t hidden behind performance or pretense. His lips trace over your skin, soft but insistent, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. You respond with equal intensity, your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as your bodies mold together effortlessly. The chemistry that’s been building for so long, simmering beneath the surface, finally explodes into something overwhelming, passionate, and real.

That night is unlike anything you’ve experienced with Tony before. It’s not about appearances or duty—it’s about desire, love, and the raw, unspoken connection you’ve always felt but never fully acknowledged. In every kiss, every touch, there’s an unspoken promise of a future you both want—a future no longer bound by a contract.

You spend the night wrapped in each other’s arms, the lines between where you end and Tony begins blurred in a way that makes you feel whole.

Months later, everything feels different. The weight of the contract, the looming deadline—it’s all gone now. You and Tony are free, not just from the obligations of your arrangement, but from the barriers you put up to protect yourselves. And it feels good. Better than good.

The press still follows your every move, but now, when you’re photographed together, it’s not an act. You’re truly in love, and it shows in every stolen glance, every casual touch.

And then, something else shifts. A few months after that unforgettable night, you notice something’s changed—within you. At first, you dismiss it, but as the signs become more obvious, the truth hits you like a tidal wave. You’re pregnant.

Telling Tony is a moment you’ll never forget. He’s in his workshop when you find him, hunched over some new project, completely immersed in his work. You’re nervous, but when you say the words, his reaction is everything you could have hoped for. He freezes for a moment, blinking as if he didn’t hear you correctly.

“Wait, what?” He straightens up, his eyes wide, his face a mixture of shock and awe. “Are you serious?”

You nod, unable to keep the smile from spreading across your face. “Yeah. We’re having a baby.”

For the first time since you’ve known him, Tony Stark is speechless. He just stares at you, his expression softening before he breaks into a grin. And then he crosses the room in two strides, scooping you up into his arms, spinning you around as he laughs—really, genuinely laughs.

“We’re having a baby,” he repeats, his voice filled with wonder.

The night of the gala is perfect. The two of you arrive hand in hand, the press buzzing around you as always, but this time there’s something different in the air. You haven’t made the announcement yet, but tonight is the night.

You wear a stunning dress, custom-made to skim over the subtle curve of your belly. It’s not obvious yet, but you know the media will spot the signs—sharp eyes never miss a detail. And when you and Tony take the stage, everyone’s watching.

Tony steps up to the microphone, his usual swagger in full effect. “So, I know you’ve all been wondering,” he starts, flashing that charming grin of his, “about when the Starks are finally going to have some big news to share.”

The crowd murmurs in anticipation, cameras flashing as the press leans in, hanging on his every word.

He turns to you, his gaze softening as he reaches for your hand. “Well, the wait’s over. Y/N and I are expecting our first child.”

The room erupts in applause, gasps and cheers filling the air as the cameras go wild. Tony pulls you into his side, kissing your temple as you both beam at the crowd, the love between you palpable.

After the announcement, the two of you make your rounds, mingling with the guests, accepting congratulations, and soaking in the joy of the moment. But later, when the two of you finally find a quiet corner, away from the crowd, Tony’s hand rests on your belly, his thumb tracing slow circles over the fabric of your dress.

“So,” he says, his voice low, filled with affection, “what do you think? Boy or girl?”

You laugh, leaning into him. “I don’t know. But I have a feeling they’re going to have your charm and your appetite for chaos.”

Tony grins, his hand moving to cradle your face. “Lucky for them, they’ll have your heart and patience to balance it out.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Let’s just hope they don’t inherit your knack for getting into trouble.”

He chuckles, pulling you closer. “Hey, trouble is part of the Stark legacy.”

You smirk, resting your hand on top of his. “Well, as long as they don’t inherit your driving skills, we’ll be fine.”

Tony gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “My driving skills are impeccable! You love my driving.”

You give him a look, raising an eyebrow. “I love you, Tony. Your driving… not so much.”

He laughs, leaning in to kiss you softly, and for a moment, the world outside fades away. It’s just the two of you—together, happy, and ready for whatever comes next.

As the night winds down, Tony pulls you aside once more, his lips close to your ear as he whispers, “I can’t believe this is our life now. I can’t believe we’re doing this—for real.”

You smile, your heart swelling with love as you whisper back, “Neither can I. But I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.”

And with that, Tony leans down, pressing a playful kiss to your belly before looking up at you with a mischievous grin. “Just so you know, the kid’s first words are totally going to be ‘Iron Man.’”

You burst out laughing, swatting his arm. “Not if I have anything to say about it!”

Tony winks, pulling you into his arms. “We’ll see about that, Mrs. Stark. We’ll see.”

I hope you liked this story! <3

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natashaslesbian · 2 years ago

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Mommy’s Got You Now🤍

Summary: Y/n has a fall while staying at the Starks cabin. Natasha rushes back from her mission to take care of her little girl.

Word Count: 770

Pairings: little/kid reader x Natasha Romanoff , little/kid reader x Morgan Stark, little/kid reader x Pepper Potts, Tony x Pepper (mentions of Clint and Kate)

Hurt/Angst/Comfort/Fluff

Warnings: mention of injury(broken arm and nose bleed) brief hospital mention(no details of medical procedure or instruments)

————

“Morgan! Morgan! Look how high I can jump!” Little y/n called to her bestest friend. The two 5 year olds were competing to see who could jump the highest on the bed, Tony and Peppers bed…

…Y/n had been staying with the Stark family for 3 days while her mother, Natasha Romanoff, was on an intel mission along with her uncle clint and auntie Kate…

“No y/n, look I can jump higher than you!” Morgan said. The girls laughter filled the woodland cabin, all the way down to Pepper’s office. There she sat, listening to the joy echoing through the walls.

“I’m gonna touch the ceiling Morgan! Watch me watch me!”

Y/n used all her strength and bounced up to touch the lampshade, and she reached it - but as y/n began to come back down, she caught her foot on the bedpost and starting diving head first towards the wooden floor. “Y/N!” Morgan cried as she tried to reach for her friend.

The cries and screams (and the rather loud thud) had Pepper bolting straight out of her office and up the stairs, there she met little redhead y/n bundled up on the floor.

“Oh y/n! Come here sweetheart, it’s ok.” Pepper cooed as she cradled y/n in her arms, her little throat screaming out in pain. “MOMMY! I WANT MAMMA!” Y/n cried. “I know sweetheart, I know” was all Pepper could offer as she reached for a tissue to wipe the blood running from y/n’s nose, it seemed she’d managed to land on the left side of her body and right side of her face.

“I’m sorry mom! We were just playing and she fell” Morgan began to also cry hysterically. “Oh honey it’s ok, it wasn’t your fault, do you think you could be a big girl and go find daddy for me?”

Mr. Stark came running up the stairs, following his crying daughter. “Y/n fell” Pepper said “I think we need to take her to the hospital…her arm Tony” Pepper said, whispering the last few words. Tony looked towards y/n’s left arm, bent the wrong way and purple with bruises. “I’ll get the car”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as Clint pulled into the car park, Natasha was out the door and running to find her daughter. 3 hours ago Pepper had called and said y/n had fallen over, she hadn’t had an update as to how bad it was yet.

“Excuse me!” Natasha called to the receptionist “My daughter was brought in a few hours ago, Y/n, y/n Romanoff” the blue haired lady began aggressively typing as Natasha noticed a little brunette running towards her “Aunty Nat!” Morgan.

“Hey little bean” Natasha said as she picked up young Morgan. Tony soon followed behind her “Hey Nat, she’s ok, she’s with Pepper, come on I’ll take you”

“Ugh, wait a minute you can’t all go!” The receptionist called….too late.

Y/n laid wrapped up in blankets holding her new hospital bear, Sally. Tears gently slid down her cheeks as she looked over her pink cast. The pain was wearing off little by little but poor y/n was still very shaken up. Her nose yet to be cleaned of the dried up blood.

The curtain was pulled back and y/n shot up. “MOMMY!” She cried as Natasha ran to scoop up her toddler. “Oh baby it’s ok mommy’s here, I’m here now.” She whispered into y/n’s ear as she gave a small wave to Pepper. “Natasha, I’m so sorry” Pepper began. “It’s alright, these things happen, I’m just glad you were there” Natasha almost cried.

Y/n pulled back and looked up into her mommy’s beautiful green eyes. “It-it hurts mamma. Wanna go ho- go home” her little sobs broke Natasha’s heart, she wishes more than anything she could have been there to protect her little angel. “I know princess, you’re so so brave! Mamma’s here, we’ll get you home soon, get you curled up in bed with all the snacks.”

Natasha’s words did not disappoint, 2 hours later little y/n was laying in her mommy’s arms in her mommy’s bed. Toy Story 2 quietly played in the background as Nat stoked her fingers through y/n’s curly locks. “Itchy momma” y/n whined. “Oh darling I know, it’ll go away soon I promise” Natasha said.

Before long the events of the day forced

y/n’s tired eyes shut, empty bottle of milk still between her lips. Natasha swapped it out for her daughters favourite paci and pulled the duvet over them both. She kissed y/n on the head and got a little hum in response.

“Sleep well my angel, mommy’s got you now”

————

Ahhh my first time writing little reader! I hope you enjoyed! Soft mamma Nat is my fav<3

- Star🌷

#marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha x little!reader #morgan stark #tony stark #pepper potts #clint barton #kate bishop #natasha x y/n #natasha x daughter!reader

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mrsstruggle · 6 months ago

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The Beast of War - Chapter 1 // Teen Wolf x Marvel AU

This is the second part of the Shadow Wolf Series. Read The Lost Child First if you haven't!

Series Summary: In the aftermath of discovering her true identity and reuniting with her long-lost family, Y/N Stilinski finds herself adjusting to a new chapter of her life in Beacon Hills. With her brother and his friends in their senior year at High School, the town faces a fresh new threat. Y/N must navigate the complexities of her new life while confronting the looming threat that threatens to hurt her and the people she loves.

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Death/Injury/Grief/Torture, Possible Grammar Mistakes (please let me know if there is anything else)

Series Pairings: Derek Hale x Reader, Stiles Stilinski x Malia Tate (for now), Steve Rodgers x Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner x Natasha Romanoff, Vision x Wanda Maximoff

Words: 4.5k

Note: I am aware this is late! Please don't hate me!

Additional Note: While this is a Teen Wolf x Marvel AU, not everything is true to the shows/movies/comics. I had to change things for the story.

One Last Note: Y/N was adopted by Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. I did this so more people can see themselves in this story.

***I do not own Teen Wolf or Marvel or any related characters. This is a work of fanfiction and is meant for entertainment purposes only.***

Masterlist

The Beast of War Masterlist

The Lost Child Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

---

“Are you going to keep secretly writing notes about me or ask me that question you’ve been too afraid to ask?” Y/N questions, her eyes never leaving the computer where she is tying in the new patient information. She is currently six hours into her ten-hour shift.

The boy sitting on the exam table freezes. His thumbs stop typing in his notes app as he looks at Y/N in surprise. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “Mhm, sure. This is the fifth time you’ve been in this week, but you always seem to leave with nothing wrong. You either have hypochondria or you’ve kept coming back until I was your nurse.”

“Maybe the previous nurses and doctors didn’t do a good job and sent me home without properly helping me.” He picks at the bottom of his shirt in a nervous habit.

“The first time you came in was for pink eye, which has been noted that you didn’t have that. The second time was for a rash on your arm that you didn’t have.” Y/N says, looking over his previous visit notes, “The third time was a bump on your knee that turned out to be your kneecap. The fourth time was for a broken wrist that turned out to be broken or even sprained. Now you’re here due to flu-like symptoms, but your vitals are all good and there is currently no indication of you being sick.”

He forces out a fake cough, “Are you sure about that?”

Y/N turns to look at him, “I’m sure. You do know this is an emergency room, right? We have actual patients that need help, and we are short staffed. We don’t need some kid coming in trying to meet the Stark girl to get a good photo for his Instagram or whatever.”

“First of all, I’m not a kid—we’re the same age. Second, this isn’t for my Instagram, this is for my criminology class.” He says, dropping his act. He knew there was no point in tripling down on his lies.

“Well, your parents must have a lot of money or some really good insurance for you to be able to show up here five different times.”

“Something like that.”

Y/N looks him up and down, contemplating what she should do. She should just send him home, but she’s worried he will keep showing up until he gets what he wants. “The school year just started, why do you need to speak with me for your criminology class now?”

“Our first assignment is to do a paper on a famous crime. What’s more famous than the kidnapping of Tony Stark’s daughter?”

“I can think of several.” Y/N lets out a sigh, turning her body to fully face him, “You get five questions. If I don’t want to answer one, then it’s still going to count as one of your questions. After that, you have to leave and also promise not to come back here unless you have an actual emergency.”

He smiles in victory, turning his phone back on, “Do you mind if I record this so I can type out your answers later?”

“Sure.”

He opens the Voice Memos app on his phone, hits the record button, and holds it up between Y/N and himself. “Okay, first question, I am aware that the Avengers are currently relocating to a little outside of Beacon Hills, but have you been back to the other Avengers compound or the place you lived while with them?”

“No, I have not been back.”

He opens his mouth to ask her to elaborate but decides against it in case she counts that as a question. “Second question, what was your initial reaction when you discovered the truth?”

Y/N pauses as she thinks of an answer. For safety reasons, when they announced who she was, they changed the story of how it happened. Instead of telling the public she was re-kidnapped by Hydra, they told them about Bucky discovering the photo of her in Derek’s auto shop. It’s part of the reason some people like to show up there.

To the public’s knowledge, Hydra kidnapped her in hopes of raising her to be their soldier before she was able to escape on her own when they left her unattended outside. She was then found by a friend of Talia Stilinski and adopted by the Stilinski’s. To the public’s knowledge, Pepper didn’t hand her over to Hydra, she was never experimented on, she has no powers, and she didn’t know about the Avengers because she was too young—not because her memories were blocked.

“Mostly confusion. It’s not every day that someone shows up and claims to be your other family. Now I’m just waiting for my biological family to do the same thing.” Y/N jokes.

“Third question, I know thanks to photos online that you spend some time with your brother, Peter, but have you spent any time with your sister, Morgan?”

Y/N debates on whether she wants to answer the question or not. The answer is no, she hasn’t spent any time with her sister, nor has she met her. She has nothing against Morgan, and she doesn’t blame her for Pepper’s actions, but she’s not sure if Morgan feels the same way. According to Peter, she is close with her mother, and her relationship with Tony is strained due to his shortcomings as a father to her.

Y/N is unsure if Morgan blames her for those shortcomings. It’s because of Tony’s obsession with finding her that caused him to neglect to be a good father for Morgan. It’s because of his resentment and anger toward Pepper’s nonchalance at Y/N being gone and her happiness toward the new baby that caused him to leave Pepper in the first place. It’s because of his grief of losing her that caused him to be unable to hold her until she was three years old.

It wasn’t until Morgan became a teenager did Tony start to step up as her father. He still isn’t perfect, and he can never make up for her younger years, but he is a lot better. Y/N adds Tony and Peter moving to Beacon Hills as another reason for Morgan to be justified to hate her.

Y/N knows that if Derek or Peter knew her thoughts about Morgan, they would tell her that she can’t blame herself for Tony’s mistakes. The choices Tony made were his own, not hers. Right now, she’s told Peter and Tony that the decision to meet, form a relationship, or anything is fully up to Morgan. She doesn’t want to cause any upheaval in Morgan’s life by inserting herself into it. If Morgan wants Y/N in her life, then she will be. If she doesn’t want anything to do with her, that’s okay. If she wants to meet her once and then never again, Y/N will do that too.

She does however know—thanks to Peter—that Morgan has decided that she prefers a private life away from the spotlight. While Peter attends all charity and public events in the Stark name, Morgan likes to stay home away from the crowds and paparazzi. She even keeps away from social media, so she doesn’t see anything about herself or her family.

“Um, I’m going to pass on that question. Morgan is a minor and prefers to stay out of the press. I don’t feel comfortable talking about whatever relationship I may or may not have with her. That’s private and it will stay that way.” Y/N answers. “You have two questions left.”

The guy huffs in frustration, “Fine. Fourth question, what are your thoughts on the theories and videos people were making after it was first brought to the public’s attention that you’re Y/N Stark?”

“I think the best word to describe I how felt, and still feel, about the things people were saying is disappointment. I’m disappointed in how people were, and still are, talking about my family. Honestly, I don’t really care what people say about me,” That’s a lie but she isn’t going to correct herself, “but I am disappointed in the way people talked about my family and the people I love.”

He nods his head in understanding, “Okay, last question, do you plan on changing your name back to Stark?”

No, she doesn’t. To be honest, it’s not even a thought that has crossed her mind. Scott asked her about it once when he saw her driver’s license and her only thought was that she hopes Derek proposes before Tony asks so she has an excuse that won’t hurt his feelings.

“Maybe, I guess we’ll see,” Y/N says instead. “Now, you can be on your way, and I’ll make sure to let the front desk know I refuse to see you if you come back with anything less than a life-threatening injury. Hopefully, that will keep you away and make you reconsider faking injuries and illnesses, and taking a room away from someone who actually needs it.”

He hits the stop button before turning off his phone and thanking her for answering his questions. He follows her out of the room and rushes out of the building to start working on his paper.

“What’s that about?” Melissa asks, watching the boy run out of the hospital.

Y/N rolls her eyes and sighs, “Just another person who wanted to interview me. I humored him for a few questions before I told him to not come back unless he’s dying.” She hands Melissa the boy’s file that’s in her hand. “Can you put a note in his file to let the others know I won’t see him if he comes back unless necessary?”

“That’s like the fourth one this month,” Melissa laughs in disbelief.

“What can I say, I’m famous,” Y/N winks at her. She and Melissa both know how much she hates the amount of attention she’s gotten since Kate exposed her. At one point in her life, she dreamed of being a star that everyone loved and was extremely famous. Now she wishes she could go back to being a nobody.

“When do you get off today?”

“I have about four hours left and then I’m out of here. I’ve got to go home a prepare myself for family dinner.” Y/N says, grabbing a new patient’s clipboard.

“I heard Stiles telling Scott about that. Is this the first dinner with all of you together?”

“Yep, and I’m already regretting it.”

Melissa lets out a laugh, “I’m sure it will be fine, and if it isn’t, you can tell me all about it tomorrow.”

“I actually have the next two days off, so it will be a few days until I can give you a play-by-play.” With her working so many shifts to make up for her unintended long absence, she decided she needed two days to take a break. She’s exhausted and just wants to sleep in for a day.

“I can’t wait.”

---

“Hey! Where’s Stiles?” Y/N asks as she greets her dad. He’s the first one to arrive for dinner and she expected Stiles to be with him.

“He said that he could drive himself here, so I drove here straight after work.” The sheriff replies, pulling Y/N into a big hug.

“Okay, well, the others should be here soon if you want to go ahead and sit at the table, or I can turn the TV on, and you can sit in the living room and wait.”

“Where’s Derek?” He questions.

“In here!” Derek calls out from the kitchen.

The sheriff follows Y/N into the kitchen to see Derek checking on the rolls in the oven. “How are you, Derek?”

“I’m good, sir. How are you?” Derek asks, shaking Noah’s hand in greeting.

“Well, I’m still here so I guess I’m good.”

“Dad, why don’t you sit down, and I’ll help Derek finish up,” Y/N says, gesturing her hand toward their dining table. She moves to help Derek when there’s a knock on the front door. “Never mind.”

Walking toward the front door, she can hear two heartbeats on the other side. Opening the door, Tony and Peter are now standing in front of her, “Hey. Thanks for coming.” She hugs them both as they enter the loft.

They had a few conversations after taking down Kate and the hunters, but they are still a little awkward around each other. Y/N and Peter not so much, but she isn’t sure how to navigate a relationship with Tony. She doesn’t want to come off as she doesn’t care about him, but she also needs time to get used to having another dad.

With Peter it’s different. They’re close in age and they have the shared trauma from Hydra. She also feels like she talking to Stiles most of the time.

Y/N shuts the door behind them, she leads them into the kitchen. She pulls out her phone to text Stiles as they greet Derek and Noah. Tony and Peter sit down at the table, and she helps Derek bring the food over.

She looks down at her phone when it vibrates in her hand, “Stiles says he’s a bit caught up and that we should start without him. He’ll be a bit late.”

“What’s he caught up with?” Derek asks, sitting at the head of the table next to Noah and Y/N.

“He didn’t say.” She hopes it’s just something to do with school and not supernatural-related.

“So, Derek, when are you going to start working on your old house?” Peter asks Derek. Y/N has told him a bit about Derek’s plans, but she hasn’t told him everything.

“Um, soon. I’m waiting until after I hire someone to help out at the shop.” Derek replies. A few people have applied to the open position, but two of them ended up being Avengers fans who faked their resumes.

“You know who would probably be interested in the position, Barnes,” Tony says. “He would know what to do and he’s been looking for a job.”

Bucky hasn’t applied to any yet, but he has a few saved. He’d been thinking about taking a step back from the Avengers for a bit. After seeing the files and the videos of what happened to Y/N, they seemed to trigger some bad memories that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about. He’s also had several nightmares about what they could’ve possibly done to Y/N if she wasn’t rescued when she was.

Derek shares a small look with Y/N as if to ask for help with what he should say, “Yeah, I could send him the listing to see if he’s interested, or it’s on our website too. At least, that’s what Lydia told me.”

Y/N shrugs her shoulders a little when Derek looks back at her. She’s not going to tell Derek whether he should hire him or not, or even give Bucky a chance. It’s Derek’s business so that decision is completely up to him.

Tony opens his mouth to say something else, but Y/N decides to interrupt him. She’s sure Tony is about to say something that he thinks will be helpful for Derek, and she knows Derek probably doesn’t care to hear it. Derek likes doing things his way and he doesn’t always love people injecting their opinions. “So, Dad, is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

Y/N ignores the longing look in Tony’s eyes as she speaks to the other man who raised her.

“Uh, not to my knowledge, no.” Sheriff Stilinski doesn’t know what she’s talking about. The tone in her voice says he should, but he can’t think of anything.

“Really?” Y/N looks down at his left ring finger where his wedding ring used to be.

“Right, I may or may not have a date tomorrow night.”

“Good for you,” Derek says proudly, patting him on the back. They haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, but he and the sheriff have grown closer after he started dating Y/N. It was rough at first, but they started to get along after the sheriff saw how well Derek took care of Y/N after she was attacked one night by a hunter. They bonded that night as Y/N rested. It’s why Derek knows that the sheriff going on a date is a big deal for him.

“Who’s it with?” Y/N asks with a teasing smile.

“It’s with someone you know,” Noah says, keeping it vague.

“Well, it’s not with Melissa because she would’ve told me. But you also didn’t tell me until now. Oh my god, you’re date’s with Melissa.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Deaton?”

“It’s with a woman.”

“Well, who else do I know that’s at an appropriate age for you to date?” Y/N mutters mostly to herself.

Tony and Peter silently eat their food and watch the conversation with amused smiles on their faces. They like seeing Y/N with a smile on her face. It’s a lot better than what she looked like when dealing with Hydra, the hunters, and Derek getting shot with an arrow.

“It’s Lydia’s mom,” Derek states.

Noah looks at him a little shocked. He didn’t expect Derek to guess correctly or even chime in. “How’d you know?”

“I didn’t, but I do now.” Derek sends a triumph wink toward Y/N. She’s a little surprised he’s showing this side of himself with Tony and Peter here. With strangers, and sometimes the pack, he prefers to only let them see him as the tall, broody guy who doesn’t have many feelings.

“Just don’t tell Stiles. I haven’t told him I’m going on a date yet either.” He looks pointedly toward Y/N.

“Fine. My lips are sealed.” Y/N pretends to zip her lips for added effect. “What about you Peter? How’s MJ?”

The last time Peter had talked to her about MJ he wasn’t sure about the direction of their relationship. He loves her, but she’s still in college going for her master’s and he’s moving to Beacon Hills to be closer to his sister. They hadn’t decided if they wanted to try long-distance, have Peter go back and forth, or if they should call it quits for now.

Y/N told him that she shouldn’t be the reason his relationship with MJ should change. He just replies that he thought she was dead for several years and has missed out on being in her life, so he doesn’t plan on missing anymore.

“She’s good. We still haven’t decided what we’re going to do yet.” Peter replies, keeping his eyes down on the food on his plate to avoid looking at her.

“How has it been at the hospital? Are people still showing up and harassing you?” Tony asks, turning the attention away from Peter because he can feel he doesn’t want to talk about MJ.

“Yeah, we had a guy come in today asking me questions. It’s the fifth time he’s been in this week.” Y/N rolls her eyes in annoyance.

Tony frowns at her answer. He offered her a job to work with the Avengers in their medical wing to avoid the crazy press and fans and to spend more time with her, but she declined. She likes her job, and she likes that she can help her brother and friends by having her job.

“He’s been in five times?” Derek questions, his tone on the protective side.

“Yeah, he’s some college guy who wanted to interview me for some school project.”

“College guy?” “Didn’t the school year just start?” Derek and Peter question at the same time.

“He said it was for a paper for his criminology class. I let him ask me a few questions and then told the front desk not to let him back unless he’s dying.”

“What questions did he ask you?” Peter asks.

“Like ‘how did I react when I found out’ and ‘how did I feel about the videos people were making about me.’ I gave him five questions and only answered the ones I wanted to.” Y/N shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I only did it so that he’d stop wasting the staff’s time with his fake injuries and illnesses.”

“Has Stiles told you if he’s on his way?” Noah asks, changing the subject.

Y/N checks her phone and sees that Stiles hasn’t texted her, “Nope, but you know how he gets. He probably lost track of time, or he’s still caught up in whatever he’s doing.”

The table goes quiet, and everyone continues eating. No one knows what to say. This isn’t the first dinner they’ve had together, but they all typically end in silence. They do some polite small talk in the beginning—mostly everyone only speaking to Y/N—then finish their food in silence.

Derek takes his and Y/N’s empty plates to the sink when they're done. Y/N packs up some of the leftovers for her dad to take home.

“I should go. I’ve got a long shift in the morning.” Noah says. He pats Derek on the shoulder as a goodbye. He takes the leftovers from Y/N’s hands and follows her to the front door. “I’m assuming you’re going to show up to the station before my date tomorrow.”

“You know me so well.” Y/N smiles, hugging him goodbye. “See you tomorrow. Love you.”

“Love you too.” He closes the door behind himself as he leaves. Y/N turns to Tony and Peter who are ready to leave as well.

“Thanks for having us over. Dinner was good.” Tony says, putting his jacket back on that he took off while eating.

“Thanks for coming,” Y/N says, hugging them both goodbye. “My schedule is starting to slow down so I’ll let you know when I’m free for us to do something.” She notices Tony perk up at the thought of spending more time with her.

She waves at them goodbye before closing and locking the loft door. Sighing in exhaustion, she turns to see Derek standing and staring at her with a familiar lovestruck look in his eyes.

“I feel like I could sleep for a week,” Y/N says, slowly walking over to him.

Derek wraps his arms around her when she reaches him, “Well, I’ve done the dishes, so how about we go upstairs, take a nice hot bath, and then get you to bed?”

“Keep saying things like that and I’ll get on one knee right now and ask you to marry me.”

“I prefer when you get on both knees.”

Y/N scoffs at his joke, “Just take me upstairs to a bath. If you treat me right, maybe the bath could turn into something more.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Derek says. Y/N lets out a laugh when Derek wraps his arms around her thighs and picks her up, carrying her upstairs.

---

Y/N slowly opens her eyes to see Derek asleep next to her. She smiles a little at how cute he looks when he’s asleep. Turning to the clock on her bedside table, she notices that it’s almost midnight. She’s only been asleep for a little over an hour and she’s not sure what woke her up. As she turns back to Derek, their bedroom door flies open.

“Y/N?” Stiles calls out from the doorway.

“What the fuck Stiles?” Y/N groans, clamping her eyes shut when he flicks on the bedroom light. She can feel Derek waking up next to her. “Why the fuck are you here so late?”

Stiles walks into the room and sits on the bed next to Y/N, “I feel like I’m going crazy and you’re the only one that believes me.” Y/N can smell that he reeks of anxiety.

“Go home,” Derek groans, wraps an arm around Y/N’s waist, and pulls her in closer to him, pushing his face into the back of her neck to try and hide from the light.

Y/N sighs, using her hands to block the ceiling light, “You can tell me what’s going on after you turn off the light.”

Stiles huffs in frustration but gets up and turns off the light before sitting back on the bed, “There’s something off about Theo but no one believes me. Scott thinks I should give him the benefit of the doubt and that, even if he is bad, everyone is savable.”

“Does some of this have to do with why you didn’t show up to dinner?”

“Sorry about that. Me and Liam followed him around to see what he’d do.”

“And what did he do?”

“We may have followed him to the bridge near where his sister was found.” Stiles mumbles, fiddling with the drawstrings on his hoodie.

“He could’ve noticed you following him and put on a ‘good guy’ act,” Y/N says, trying to think of something that would support Stiles’ theory.

“Don’t encourage him,” Derek mumbles sleepily behind her.

“I broke into the administration office and found the transfer form his dad signed and compared it to a speeding ticket he signed eight years ago. The signatures are completely different.” Stiles says. He knows he’s right about Theo and he doesn’t get why Scott doesn’t believe him.

“Okay, I believe you. Look, I’m exhausted so how about we get some sleep and talk about this some more later? You’ve got school tomorrow, so you need some sleep too.” Y/N says as gently as she can. She doesn’t want him to feel like she doesn’t believe him either, but she might fall back asleep any minute now. “You know you are welcome to the guest room. It’s practically yours now anyway.”

“Can I sleep in here tonight?” Stiles asks shyly.

“No,” Derek answers quickly.

“Not like in your bed, but like can I drag the guest room’s mattress in here and sleep on it on the floor?”

Even in the dark, Y/N can see the vulnerability in his eyes, “Yes, you can sleep in here.” Stiles smiles and runs out of the room toward the guest room.

“You should’ve said no,” Derek groans.

“He’s worried about his friends and senior year has been giving him a lot of anxiety after asking Dad about his high school buddies.”

“How has that given him so much anxiety that he stinks of it?”

“Dad told him that he no longer speaks to any of his friends from high school and he’s scared him and his friends will end up the same way.”

Derek sighs, “Fine, but him staying in here is a one-time thing.”

Y/N starts to reply when Stiles comes back into the room, pulling the guest bedroom mattress behind him with one hand and his pillows and blankets in the other. He puts the mattress against the wall that faces Y/N’s side of the bed.

He puts his pillows down on the mattress before laying down and wrapping his blankets around himself, “Okay, goodnight. Don’t do anything gross since I’m here.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at his last sentence, “Goodnight Stiles.”

As she starts to drift back off to sleep, she hears Stiles speak again, “Y/N?”

“What?”

“Did you notice that Dad stopped wearing his ring?”

“Yeah,” Y/N replies gently.

“Do you think he’s met someone?”

“You’d have to ask him that.” She would’ve responded with yes, but she promised her dad earlier that she wouldn’t tell Stiles because he wanted to be the one to do it.

“I just want him to be happy,” Stiles says, staring up at the ceiling.

“Me too.”

There’s a moment of silence before Stiles says, “I miss Mom.”

“Me too.”

“Okay, goodnight,” Stiles rolls over to his side to face the wall.

“Goodnight,” Y/N pushes herself back into Derek’s loose embrace. After Stiles laid out the mattress, he was out like a light. She starts to drift off again when Stiles interrupts her again.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for believing me.”

“Always.”

---

@xxemmarldxx @esposadomd @ladyjenjay @ts1mp0ne @misshale21

@n1ght5h4d3-24 @xoxoloverb

114 notes · View notes

devilfic · 1 year ago

Text

❝small favor❞

IV. another white guy from new york.

parts: previously / next plot: it's uncanny, but it can't be. right? because that would be stupid. and spider-man isn't stupid. right? pairing: mcu!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: violence, guns, knives, blood mention, alcohol consumption, peter parker isn't beating the average white guy allegations, well. when he smiles like that he might. words: 6.7k.

You almost expect them to turn you away at the door when you hand over your badge, some paranoid part of you thinking they’ll take one look at you and know you don’t belong here, but the man at the check-in hands it back to you with a pleasant, “Enjoy your evening.”

That was half an hour ago, and Parker was nowhere in sight.

He was going to “meet you there” as Jameson promised, though without a clue what to look for, you found yourself aimlessly floating through perfume clouds of high society. You didn’t want to hit the bar this close to eight, but if you didn’t find an anchor quick, you’d vibrate right through the floor. Worst of all, you didn’t even have the guy’s number. What would you do if he was a no-show?

Your job, you suppose, sullen and already dreading the evening to come.

There’s no sign of Wilson Fisk either. In your usual setting, you might’ve already flagged down a guest or two to ask what they thought about the rumors, but your usual settings were messy, bloody, and out in the real world. Here, you had a list of questions to ask that didn’t even scratch your curiosity.

What’s your name? Are you excited to be here this evening? How does the Stark Charity Ball reflect the New York City you know and love? Were you attacked? Can you confirm Wilson Fisk was on the scene?

You hadn’t even made it to the fourth question before you’d given up. How would you last a night like this?

Slithering through the crowd, you make your way to the snack table with hopes to eat your way through the night. At least you could count on rich people to shell out on good cheese.

There’s a band playing in the corner, a gentle stringed melody that you appreciate over the chatter of the guests. You make your way over and let yourself get carried away in the tune, only glancing every so often at your watch to gauge the time. It was nine minutes to eight, nine minutes until Pepper Potts took the stage to start the night, and you still had no idea where your partner was.

It’s almost natural the way your hand finds your phone, swiping over the familiar contact name and pressing out a quick message.

The party can’t start without you.

Towering windows make up most of the ballroom, fading sunlight overpowering the chandeliers above, and you take advantage in hopes it might reveal your webbed friend hanging off the roof.

Almost immediately, you get a text back.

Aww, you really do like me :) No kidding. Are you already in place? Just about. Doing a quick perimeter check. You enjoying the party? I would be if my partner was here on time. Hey, cut Parker some slack! His train’s probably late and I don’t see any signs of Kingpin yet. I'm just glad you've stopped trying to fight me on this. If you can’t beat ‘em... And maybe look up every once in a while, you’re gonna run into somebody.

Just as your eyes scan the very last word, your senses go haywire. There’s cold liquid running down your hand and you've just run into something. When you finally tear your eyes away from your phone, you unfortunately realize that something is now wearing the remainder of your drink.

People nearby have formed a clearing around you, but it feels less out of courtesy and more to point and laugh at you. Regardless, you’ve got to fix this, “I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”

Your victim stands in a small puddle of sangria, the front of their tux dripping in it still, and you could see how red stains crawled up crisp white. You could only imagine how much every bit of their suit cost (and the Daily Bugle definitely didn’t have the budget to cover it).

They lift their copper head and you’re at first struck by the smile on their face, then the peppering of freckles across the bridge of their nose, and finally... their name.

He carefully removes his suit jacket to assess the damage to his shirt, “Nah, don’t worry. I was looking for a reason to leave early anyway.”

You’re breathless, certain you should be rushing to grab towels or begging him not to sue you into oblivion, but you don’t really get that far, “I’m... really sorry.”

He laughs, so genuine that you feel the tension in your shoulders deflate just at the sound. Just then, a waiter rushes over with a hand towel, insisting he lead him to the men’s room to clean up, but he’s waved off with little more than a “thank you” and “I’ll survive, I promise.”

He steps out of the puddle to allow someone to clean it up, bringing him that much closer to you. When he's done with the towel, he hands it off to you. His eyes trail to your chest and his eyes widen some, “The Daily Bugle. You a reporter?”

You realize he’s spotted your press badge and rush to introduce yourself, wiping absentmindedly at your sticky hand, “Uh... yes. Actually. Crime beat reporter.” You set your empty cup on a passing waiter’s tray and hold out your clean hand to shake.

His hand is warm, if not a little sticky like yours, though you have no grounds to complain, “Nice to meet you. I’m Harry.”

“Oh, I know.”

He quirks an eyebrow, still smiling, “Then... was that drink a calculated assault?”

“No! God, no. I genuinely wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Not very safe for a crime beat reporter, don’t you think?”

You’ve got to be on fire. You feel like it, struggling between a laugh and a whine, “I’m sorry you had to be the one to teach me that lesson.”

“No worries. Like I said, you did me a favor.” Harry glances around, “So… you're reporting on what, exactly? You betting on a robbery or something?”

The humor of that isn't lost on you, “Actually, I’m filling in tonight. Our usual reporter definitely wouldn’t have ruined your nice shirt.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I find this stain rather charming.”

You can’t help it. You giggle and he smiles even wider, “May I ask why you want to escape so soon?”

“Not if you’re gonna write it down.”

“Off the record? In exchange for the stain.”

Harry Osborn has a boyish look to him even though he’s steadily approaching 26, some baby fat still clinging to his cheekbones when he smiles wide enough, “Well, this was my first stop since hopping off a nine hour flight from Oxford and I’m, as the English say, absolutely knackered. I was gonna leave in half an hour after photos but…” He laughs, casting a look over his shoulder at the stage, “I’ve made my donation. I won’t be missed.”

Perking up with an idea, you reach into your bag and pull out a recorder, “In that case, how about I get you down for a comment on your generous donation of…”

“Five million.”

You blink, swallowing hard, “Five million… to make up for it? I'll even throw in a few questions about your study at Oxford. I hear you're working on a revolutionary breakthrough with lab-grown bacteria that breaks down plastic.”

Harry's eyes light up. For a moment, the image of Harry Osborn is just Harry, “You sure Jameson would let you publish something nice about an Osborn?”

The Daily Bugle was no friend to Spider-Man, but neither was it a friend to Norman Osborn. You recall some of the more scalding headlines about Oscorp’s president that you’d published in the past. It was the one thing you and Jameson could agree on. “You know Jameson well?”

“Of course. I’ve got a buddy who works there too, actually. You might know him. His name’s-”

Harry’s voice is drowned out by the collective oohing and awing of the crowd when the lights dim, shrouding the grand ballroom in the fading glow of the sun. The stage, once empty, is now illuminated with the presence of Pepper Potts. Uproarious applause fills the room. Harry smiles politely at you. His buddy would be a conversation for later.

You want to focus on Pepper, you really do, but it’s like you’ve broken out of a spell the second Harry’s eyes leave yours, and you find yourself once again scanning the crowd for Parker. There was no good reason for him to be this late and you couldn’t even give him a piece of your mind about it.

You shoot off an indignant text to Peter.

Your guy better have been hit by a cyclist on the way here or he’s getting an earful when I see him. Pepper looks amazing :(

But no instant reply. In fact, three minutes pass and there’s nothing. You glance up to the windows for any sign of him watching and find none. Was... he here?

You glance at Harry. If Jillian were here, she’d punch you in the face for what you’re about to do, for the opportunity you're about to squander. Okay, maybe not a punch, but it’d be violent.

But then you’re thinking about Peter, about that night that changed everything, about his blood and bruises and the men with guns for hands. You think about how Peter worried for you. You think about Harry, who has just donated five million dollars to charity, and how there are over a hundred more of him packed in this ballroom right now. You think about Wilson Fisk, and how much havoc he could wreak if he put Spider-Man out for good.

And then you're elbowing yourself through the crowd, searching for the nearest emergency stairwell, hoping that if Peter’s still watching he might meet you halfway. Parker and those questions be damned. You'd find a way to make it up to Jameson somehow.

You’re about ten feet away from the nearest exit when someone takes a hold of your wrist, a few seconds away from the end of Pepper’s speech, and whoever is holding you back has a grip so iron it stings. You can’t clearly see the face of who’s grabbed you but it doesn’t feel familiar. Your heart jumps into your throat. Had Fisk's men infiltrated the room already? Had they gotten to Spidey? Did they know you? Were you next?

You’ve got no pocket knife on you, but you have a fist.

You curl your fingers inward and aim right for your captor’s head. Your fist makes contact with skin. The room erupts into thunderous applause. The lights go up.

You never actually land the punch, but your captor looks a little too wide-eyed to be one of Fisk’s men, too soft in the face. His own hand has completely stopped yours in its tracks, just a hair away from breaking his nose, and he’s staring at you like a deer in headlights. A big, brown doe-eyed deer. “Uh, hi,” your eyes flicker down to the camera hanging from his neck, almost blocking the badge beneath it that reads "P. B. Parker", and then you meet his eyes with the same bewilderment, “sorry I’m late.”

Parker is about average height with a build you can't quantify when his shirt is draping off him. It's a ridiculously huge plaid thing, the kind of thing someone would wear to hide themselves, but all he does is stand out in the sea of Armani and Givenchy. Old jeans, old shirt, high-tops, and a muddy-grey beanie to top it all off. It was a wonder they let him in the door at all.

What you can feel is the strength behind his hand as it holds your fist in place. Some people are looking—you realize, after the tremors of your punch reverberate back up your arm—and so you yank your hand back before any security can take notice.

Your partner waits a full second before holding out his own, offering a subtle, wobbly smile, "I would've been here sooner but... traffic, ya know?"

His voice is low, you notice this next. Practically a mumble. You kind of realize why your coworkers said you weren't missing much; outside of his awkward mannerisms and sweet, unassuming baby face, he looked like any other white guy from New York. He also seemed like he didn't want to be seen or heard, and you imagined that Jameson had no problem with that.

But his mumbling forces you to take notice of his lips so you can read them, and their thin, blushy quality is only marred by a little dryness. Broken by biting or... or something. "You're late." Is all you manage to say.

His lips part, turning downward, "Yeah, I know," he stutters, the pitch of his voice going up a hair, "I said- um, I caught the last half of Mrs. Potts’ speech." And then he turns his camera to you, flicking through images that are too small on the screen for you to assess the quality of. You actually have no doubt they're good, but you're upset he's late and you're certain there's nothing remarkable about this guy—nothing at all—and yet you can't stop staring.

"You know Spidey?" You blurt out next, and his eyes widen and zero in on you. You don't know why he's surprised. "He's mentioned me, hasn't he?"

Parker blinks, "Oh! Yeah. Yeah. All the time. You're very... good. At your job."

"Thank you. So are you."

And wouldn't you know it, he actually blushes. It's sweet and alarming how quickly red blooms across the apples of his cheeks, how his hands wobble around his camera a bit, how it disarms you for a moment. It'd be cute if you could just figure out what about him was throwing you off.

In fact, you're so enthralled in figuring out that something that you see his lips moving but just miss his question, barely hearing the tail-end of it. You watch his lips again as you ask him to repeat it, but the musicians have started up a jaunty tune with trumpets and high white keys, so you duck closer to him and ask him to repeat it once more.

"I asked-" And as you get closer, you have an excuse to look at him more deeply.

Your eyes follow the curve of his mouth to his chin (and all its little hairs that he hadn't caught shaving), down to his neck where you see, just peeking out beneath the lip of his beanie, a curl. You've abandoned his question now. You just feel, as strange as it is, that you need a closer look...

Your hand is moving before your mind can catch up with it, until it's caught in Parker's halfway to his throat. You're so close to him that you can see the way the skin of his chin rolls with the effort to lean away from you, or the honey speckles in his eyes that are all but eclipsed by his blown-wide pupils.

His fingers are latched around yours. He's not using the same strength he was before, doesn't need to, but you can sort of feel it beneath the callouses. Even then, it's so gentle. You don't know why you react with just as mush wonder. The world might as well be at half-speed. You almost wish him to speak again because you've got nothing to say for yourself here.

Parker looks on at you, still holding onto your hand. He smells... like the city.

"Do you-" He starts, chokes on his spit, and then swallows, "are you always this friendly when you're tipsy?"

You blanch. "What? I'm not-" You yank your hand back, cup it to your mouth and nose, and breathe in the sangria. Could he smell it on your breath? "I'm not tipsy. I barely even had a drink before I spilled it all over..."

You catch Parker's eye to find him looking interested. "Spilled it all over...?"

"Someone. Whatever. It was an accident."

"You spilled your drink on someone?"

"It was an accident."

"You know, I was feeling real bad about showing up late, but Jameson's gonna have a field day with this." You're mortified. He wasn't interested, he was amused. "Are we gonna get sued?"

"No!" Your voice draws the attention of a couple nearby, making you shrink even closer to Parker, "I told you it was an accident and I apologized. And you're still not off the hook for being late."

He folds his arms across his chest, smiles steadily this time, and agrees. The action is so unmistakable that it saps all the lightheartedness right out of you. Parker notices the change.

The only thing that breaks the moment is Harry Osborn finding you both.

Your head whips at the first "Peter!", thinking you'll see red and blue somewhere nearby, but Harry is gunning straight for Parker with the widest smile on his face. You break away just in time for him to envelop Parker in a big, friendly hug that would've knocked Parker off his feet if not for how solid he was. A few onlookers take in the scene, some amused, others not so much.

It takes you a moment to digest that Harry meant Parker, had called him Peter with such love and affection that there was no way he was mistaken, and Parker had returned the hug a beat later without correcting him.

There were probably a million Peters in New York alone. And yet...

They stay intertwined a minute longer, only breaking away so that Harry could hold... Peter's face in his hands. "Peter Parker! What the hell are you doing here?" Harry seems to remember you're there. He releases Peter and points to you, "So, you two know each other after all. Pete's the buddy at the Bugle I told you about. We've been best friends for years."

As if this Peter business wasn't enough for you to wrap your head around, you struggle to imagine these two being best friends. One of New York City's richest heirs and a contractor for the Daily Bugle. Your disbelief is evident as you ask, "How did you two meet...?"

"College. We went to ESU together. We were even roommates before I went off to Oxford." Harry smiles proudly, patting Peter on the back. It's then that you notice Peter is looking very, very uncomfortable. You wonder for a moment if this is all some elaborate joke Harry's playing, but it hadn't struck you as his type of humor.

This is, in fact, a man named Peter Parker. He works for the Daily Bugle, he's best friends with Harry Osborn, he works with Spider-Man, and they both share a name. Unremarkable Peter Parker. Nothing you were missing, they'd said.

Peter must see that you're focused hard on him, so he turns to Harry, "Yeah, Oxford. Why aren't you... there? Again?"

Harry laughs, unbothered, "Don't tell me you didn't miss me?"

"No, it's just... last I remember, your dad wanted you there until your project got approved."

The very mention of Norman Osborn kills the mood entirely. Harry's smile falls quick, though he tries to hide it, and shuffles a bit uncomfortably. "That was the deal. But you know dad: the world revolves around his every whim." Harry's eyes cut to you so fast that you tense up, recovering quickly. "Off the record."

Jillian would not accept that. You, on the other hand, swallow it down and tuck it away for another day, "Anything for a friend of a friend."

That gets Harry smiling again, however terse. The conversation quickly changes course as Harry pulls at the stained white of his shirt to show Peter, "Speaking of: you like? Our new mutual friend gave it to me."

Peter glances at you, chuckling with a nervous edge, and grabs at the fabric to examine for himself, "Something tells me you deserved it."

Harry immediately resorts to banter that Peter melts into. It was no doubt now that they were friends, that Peter's awkwardness had only been on account of you being here.

You can only smile and nod, smile and nod, while you watch Peter's every move. You couldn't say anything even though you were bursting, but now your heart was beginning to pound in your ears, making it hard for you to do what you were trying to pretend you weren't doing.

Spider-Man was smart. Beneath the quips, he was extremely smart. He wouldn't tell you his real name and then show up here as a civilian, so brazen, knowing that you'd instantly figure out it was him. That'd be too easy. He trusted you, sure, but he wasn't stupid. He'd been uncomfortable at the very thought of unmasking when you'd mentioned it last night. If Peter was... Peter, he wouldn't have come at all. Because that would be stupid.

And he wouldn't have bothered to pretend, up until the last second, that he wasn't Peter, if he was just going to flay himself before you like this. Because you would've figured it out eventually.

So, surely, there were a million Peters in New York and you happened to know two of them. And they knew each other. And one of them was a superhero. Of course.

You slip your phone out, checking your recent messages with your heart in your throat. If Peter wasn't Peter, he'd have texted you back by now. Because Peter—fuck—Spidey wouldn't miss a chance to make that joke.

There's one new message. You barely get to see what it says before broken glass sprays from above.

There’s a cacophony of sound all at once. Glass breaking, screaming amongst the crowd, and the sound of gunfire letting off into the ceiling. One minute, the room had been in peaceful bliss, and the next, a tidal wave of terrified guests were rushing at you.

You’re lucky that Peter’s arm is like iron, strong enough to rip you back and away from the crowd that converges on the exits, because if you had stayed in your spot for a second longer you would have been trampled underfoot. Like your phone, which is in pieces the second it slips out of your hand.

Harry is there too, huddled against the two of you in the corner, but that doesn’t stop you three from all being pressed upon by the panicking crowds. There’s no rhyme or reason, no order in the chaos. Beautiful clutches embedded with Swarovski crystals lay abandoned at your feet. Everyone in the room can see, whatever it might be, that their life is worth more than a single thing in this room. Even worth more than the lives of the other guests they shove to get out first.

You try your best to see over the heads of the swarm to get a glimpse of what had set the entire party off, and immediately two things are visible. One: Pepper Potts is center stage, the bright white stage lights beating down on her. If it weren’t for the sweat beading at her brow, you’d think her bored. The second thing was that there was a man standing beside her who wasn’t standing there before, a microphone in one hand and a gun in the other.

Even from all the way at the back of the room, you could see the gun trembling in his grip as the barrel kissed Pepper’s temple.

The next thing is his voice. It’s loud, feedback screeching off the walls so high that you think they might shatter the windows. The crowd is loud and he’s louder. You can hear him saying something about how everyone shouldn’t leave just yet, that they’d want to see this front row and not on the 10 o’clock news. You do not see Kingpin. This man is utterly alone.

Harry is shouting something at you, you can feel his breath and the spit that flies out in the hurry of his words, but you can barely make out what he’s saying over the guests. Peter clutches you both even closer.

“We… we have to…” You start, glancing up at the windows for any sign of Spider-Man, but you see nothing. Your eyes drop to Peter’s to find him already staring right at you. You’ve no idea what’s going through his head, and the adrenaline rushing behind your eyes makes it hard to speculate. You only know what you need to say, “…we need to find Spider-Man.”

“We need to leave!” Harry argues. He wriggles out of Peter’s grip and starts pulling you both toward the nearest exit, but he only makes progress with pulling you forward.

You were about to argue back until you felt Peter’s hand at the base of your spine, pushing you into Harry with ease and right toward one of the exit doors. You turn, clutching onto Harry as to not lose him in the crowd, only to find Peter isn’t following you. “You both need to get out of here.”

“Both? Wh- Peter! We’re not leaving without you!” Your attempt to grab at him is futile. He shrugs away from your touch, keeps pushing you and Harry through the stampede as if he really intended on staying behind. “Peter!”

He finally looks you in the eyes that second time, the desperation with which you’d said his name snapping him out of some dissociative spell, “I’ll be right behind you! I’m gonna help get people out. Some got trampled, I-I’ve got to-”

Harry is next to admonish him, “Pete, come on. This isn’t the time to play fucking hero!”

But Peter’s not listening again—eyes faraway, slipping over the crowd as if searching for something—he’s heading back into the fray, calling to you some half-hearted promise that he’d follow soon, and then his head disappears into the whirlwind of bodies. You were able to follow him up until the moment his hat got pulled off, and then… nothing.

The current pushes and pulls at you and Harry, dragging you down the hallway. You feel your ankle twist awkwardly and are thankful that Harry is still clinging to you because had he not been, you would’ve been dragged down and trampled for sure. He holds you upright, pressing you to his side, assuring you over the noise that you’d go back in to get Peter in a minute.

You think that Harry Osborn is much kinder than his father seemed to be, and that you really do owe him a good soundbite in the Bugle after this.

You feel a draft coming from outside, promising you were close to being free from the confines of the hallway. You grab Harry’s hands and peel them off of you, pushing him forward into the crowd without a second thought, just as you see the light of the city come up ahead. His head whips to you. He calls your name as he’s swept away, but you press yourself hard against the wall and let the crowd lead him out to safety.

The crawl back to the ballroom is awful.

There are fewer people escaping, thankfully, and so it’s less like an undertow, but there are so many people and all of them are perfectly fine with throwing their bodies forward with caution thrown to the wind.

It takes you longer than a minute to get back to the door you’d come out of, even longer to squeeze through with elbows hitting you square in the chest and heels digging into your feet.

The room is less than a third of what it had been when the gunman had arrived. You frantically search for Peter in the remaining, scattered crowd; people are frozen in awe, in horror. Some people in the crowd were begging the gunman to reconsider, and others were praying. Your heart sank. A woman was about to die and there was virtually nothing you could do.

You look up to the windows one more time. You couldn’t see him, couldn’t call him, but you close your eyes and pray too. Whoever he was. Wherever he was.

And then you hear it. The familiar thwip! cuts through the air. You open your eyes and a second later, the clatter of the gunman’s pistol hitting the floor follows. You’re blessed with a whole five seconds of glee before the gunman surges forward and pulls a knife on Pepper, holding it to her throat in a panic.

“Easy there, buddy.” Your head snaps up to the rafters. From a single thread of spider silk, Spidey descends from the ceiling with a hand outstretched. He’s a ways away from the two of them, offering some sense of space. “You don’t wanna do this.”

The gunman has since abandoned his microphone, but his voice reverberates in the near empty room just fine, “Get out of here, Spider-Man! You’re next!”

“Why don’t you and I hash it out, then? Just you and me. Leave Mrs. Potts out of it.”

“No, no,” the man mutters; you can hear sirens growing closer to the building, “she’s part of it. You’re all part of it.”

Pepper speaks up for the first time, “Whatever you want, I can get it. This doesn’t have to end badly.”

That must’ve been the wrong thing to say. The man jerks his knife closer to her skin and you can see, after a moment, a thin bead of red dribbles down her collarbone.

Spidey holds out both his hands, “Whoa, whoa, whoa-”

And it happens in a flash. One second, Pepper is being held at knifepoint, and the next, she’s being pushed off the stage.

Spider-Man immediately swoops in and catches her, swinging her to safety on the other side of the room, but you’re too mesmerized by the new body on stage pinning the attacker down by the throat. How you’d missed him, you’ve no clue, but he’s wrestling the man onto his stomach and restraining his arms behind his back just as the doors to the ballroom are thrown wide open.

Cops stream in, rushing the stage to take the gunman into custody. Some head straight for Spider-Man and Pepper, but it’s the guests that catch your attention. There are maybe fifty of them in the room altogether, but applause catches on like wildfire. All of them, and the musicians and the cops at the door, erupt into applause.

Because the man on stage, the man who’d thrown himself at the gunman and disarmed him, the man who had just saved Pepper Potts’ life… was Wilson Fisk.

You can’t find Harry anywhere. Most of the guests had stayed behind out of sheer curiosity, but Harry was nowhere in sight.

You stand out on the sidewalk with the rest of the crowd as the police escort the gunman into a cop car, murmurs flitting from ear to ear on who he’d been, what he’d wanted, and whether they should stay behind for interviews. Pepper was still inside getting questioned. But Wilson Fisk was out here.

You’d been in the same room as Fisk only once before, the night of his infamous press conference three years ago when you were still an intern trailing after the likes of Jillian. He’d struck you as a measured man, one who carried himself with impenetrable humility, and even in the face of his detractors kept a cool head.

Back then, he’d been accused of money laundering, something to do with all his companies not adding up. In and out of trouble, he was. Jameson had likened him to a cockroach: never quite dead, even when he really ought to be by now.

And now he stands before reporters, guests, onlookers, and the like, giving a statement about his “harrowing” rescue of Mrs. Potts. He hadn’t even been invited.

You know you should be right up there with the rest of them, fiending for a soundbite, but you’re gnawing your bottom lip from afar trying to catch him in a lie. Something about this was refusing to add up, and thankful as you were that Pepper was safe, the whole thing was off. Convenient, even.

You watch him smile and nod, none of the charm ever reaching his dead eyes, but everyone eats it up anyway.

Just as you’re about to force yourself to head over, knowing Jameson would have your head otherwise, you’re flying.

“Jesus!” You screech, scrambling to cling onto Spidey as the crowd below watches the two of you swing away. Your stomach drops as he carries you to a nearby rooftop, and you all but collapse when you meet solid ground. “Oh my God, don’t ever do that again.” You expect a quip in return, but when you look behind you, Spider-Man is sitting with his head on his knees, utterly silent. Your stomach drops again, “Spidey?”

That gets him to look at you, big white eyes narrowing, “We’re not on a first name basis anymore?”

You’re stunned, and then you scowl, “Peter Parker.” When he says nothing, you repeat it, “Peter Parker.”

“That’s his name.”

“His? Or yours?”

His eyes stay narrowed at you, only now his head is lifted upright, “I’m not the only Peter in New York.”

“I’m sorry if I find it a little suspicious there’s a Peter Parker who works at the Daily Bugle selling the only decent photos of you in the city, who just so happens to share your name and- and your lips.” That last part awkwardly tumbles out of you and his eyes are no longer narrowed.

“My lips?”

Peter’s lips flash in your mind. You don’t know how to say it without sounding more suspicious than him, “You’re… you both… your mouths are very similar.”

A beat passes. The silence isn’t enough to convince you you’re wrong, but it is enough to make you fidget.

But then Peter bursts into laughter, and, well, it’s not funny to you at all. “Quit it.” You demand, meek.

“I’m sorry, I just- I stick to walls and you think it’s crazy that we’re both named Peter?”

“You can’t convince me I’m off with this one.”

“There were like… four Peters in my graduating class!”

“He even kind of sounded like you! When I could hear him clearly.”

“He sounds nothing like me!”

“He sounds a lot like you.” You say, and wish that there had been a moment when you’d caught him speaking at an octave higher than his, frankly, forced baritone and an octave below shouting. Peter—this Peter—has a voice you know well enough. You’ve memorized his vocal fry when his voice gets a little too high, that nervous ramble-y pitch of his. It’s so distinct. If you had just… heard him use it just once, “You can’t make me feel crazy about this.”

“’m not trying to make you feel crazy, I swear. You’re one of the smartest people I know. I’d be skeptical too.” You wait patiently for a confirmation or a denial, but he gives you none. He takes a deep breath and stares out over the edge of the building where Fisk is being escorted to his car. You crawl over to sit beside him.

Part of you wants to ask him to prove it, to peel his mask off and show you, but you can’t make yourself do it. He’d only just given you his name. He trusted you with that. You’re wary about pushing it.

Because the pieces fit so well, but he’d never make that kind of mistake. Would he?

Would he think it was a mistake?

Peter sighs. “Hey, you alright?” You ask.

He doesn’t really look at you, though his voice answers at a lower volume than before, "This was too convenient.” You hum in agreement. “That guy… he said we were all ‘part of it’. Like it was planned.”

“You think Fisk planned it.”

“I think he’s a little too eager to be in the spotlight about it.” But getting that off his chest doesn’t seem to change the solemnness in his tone.

“Pepper was never in danger.” Your hand presses against the scratchy concrete, itching to touch him. To comfort him. “If this was Fisk’s plan, it was all for publicity. Pepper was never gonna get hurt.”

“She got hurt.” Peter whips his head to you.

You knew Iron Man was his mentor, had plucked him off the streets and thrust him into a world of gods and aliens before his untimely death. And maybe with Tony gone, he thought it was his job to keep her safe.

“Peter, you can’t… you can’t think like that. You can punch your way through a lot of things, but that? That back there? You did what you could.”

“I could do more.”

You get that urge to touch him again, only this time, you let yourself do it.

Your hand touches the side of his mask, cupping below his ear. He watches you the entire time but doesn’t move to stop you. Your thumb rests on his cheek and your pinky- it brushes the overlap between his mask and the rest of his suit, “It’s not just that you’re Peter, too.”

You feel the muscles in his neck twitch, “What?”

“It’s that… in all that chaos, you chose to stay behind. To help people. You made sure me and Harry got out, but you stayed behind. Everyone was so busy trying to save their own lives and you were thinking about them. I don’t know Peter Parker very well. Maybe he’s just that kind of guy. But I know you. I know if anyone in that room was you, he’d be it.” Peter doesn’t say anything. You feel the tension in his jaw, feel the way his throat bobs with a hard swallow, but he doesn’t say anything. He just watches you. You stare hard into those white eyes and imagine a someone staring back at you. “Or maybe that’s just the kind of people Spider-Man hangs out with.”

He huffs humorously, “Yeah, that checks out. We’re friends, after all.”

Your heart swells to hear it, “friends”. “Don’t make this about me when I’m trying to expose your secret identity.”

“I think Peter Parker would be flattered you think so highly of him. He was kind of worried he made the wrong impression… after you tried to punch him in the face.”

Your jaw drops, having nearly forgotten in the mess of the night. “Well, maybe Peter Parker shouldn’t go around grabbing people in the dark.”

“You were walking so fast. How else would Peter Parker get your attention?”

“Are you just saying Peter Parker over and over to convince me that you’re both completely different people?”

“I just think it’s funny that you don’t believe more than two Peters can live in the same city.”

“There are other factors!”

“Can’t believe you’re the type of reporter who flies by the seat of their assumptions. But you do work for Jameson, after all.” When Peter stands, you naturally follow.

You decide to switch tactics, bruising the alter ego, “You- you know what? You’re right. You couldn’t be Peter Parker. Peter Parker would be shaking and crying if I so much as raised my voice at him.”

“Wow. I’m gonna tell him you said that—wrap your arms around me?” And he snakes an arm around your waist, sending your heart into overdrive again, “he’s never gonna talk to you again. He’s probably gonna issue a copyright claim every time you put his pics on the Web-Blog, now. Legs too.”

“Wait, no. We are not swinging again. We are taking the stairs.”

“How else am I gonna get you off the roof? Legs, please.”

“We can take the stairs!”

“Door’s probably locked and Kingpin’s already on his way back to his super-secret evil lair. Legs or I’m webbing you up in a baby wrap.”

You grumble. It’s enough to make you grab onto his shoulders and jump, locking your ankles across his back with the fear of gravity instilled in you. You reckoned he’d be fast enough to catch you if you did fall. The very possibility makes you sick to your stomach, though. “Please don’t drop me.”

Peter dips his chin into the crevice where your neck meets your shoulder. "Don't worry," and it's not even that you hear his voice, you just feel it, "I've only dropped someone once."

And you're plummeting off the ledge before you get the chance to run away.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker scenarios #peter parker imagines #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker #spiderman x reader #spiderman scenarios #spiderman imagines #spiderman fic #spiderman fluff #spiderman angst #spider-man #tom holland #marvel #mjwrites #pp; small favor

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morganwrites12672 · 2 years ago

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'A Lazy Day At Stark Tower' Peter Parker x Stark!reader

This is what won the most recent poll I did!

Summary: A lazy day at Stark tower with peter.

Warnings/Tags: Peter Parker x Stark!reader (Romantically), Tony stark x reader (platonic), pepper Potts x reader (platonic), fluff, super sweet,

Rating: PG-13

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Peter snuggled even closer to you. You both knew you needed to get up. The only issue is neither one of you were willing to be the first one to decide that you can't stay in bed all day.

You were a tangle of limbs. You couldn't tell where you began and Peter ended. His leg was thrown over yours, face buried in your chest. Peter Parker was the most comfortable he had ever been.

"Yn, Peter," your mom called and you both groaned. She must have decided you both couldn't sleep in half the day.

"We have to get up bub," you say and Peter shakes his head. Your mom enters the room and Peter doesn't bag an eye.

"Oh! Hi Tony," she says and Peter flies up from his spot.

"Mr. Stark! It's not what-," Peter notices something. He doesn't see tony. He sees pepper laughing and you smiling.

"That's not funny," he whines as you get up.

"Your dad wants to see you in the lab," your mom said and shut the door as she left.

You and Peter both get dressed in silence. After only ten minutes, you have both made your way down to the lab.

"Kid," your dad said and handed Peter something. It was a new suit. your dad goes to give a quick recap of what he upgraded.

After only a few minutes, you both head back down to your room. The suit fitting took very little time. Thank God, you just wanted to snuggle into peters side and watch reruns of old movies

"Should we get takeout?" You suggest and Peter nods. You smile when you find a donut shop that does UberEATS.

"What kind of donut do you want?" You ask Peter and he shrugs. You groan, he could be so indecisive.

"I am going to order half Chocolat icing and half glazed. A dozen," you say and Peter mumbles a yes. You knew if you only ordered some for you and Peter there would be an issue.

There was no way the donuts would make it past Happy without losing one. And then your dad would find out and there would be several more that were lost.

"Order placed," you said as you finished punching in your credit card number, "It will be here in fifteen minutes," you tell Peter.

"What shall we watch?" Peter asks and you smile. He groans, "I swear, if you make me watch Stranger things one more time, I will go mental," Peter warns.

You smile as you grab your tv remote. Peter groans as you go into Netflix and select the show you have made Peter watch 14 times.

"Just season three, I swear," you say with a smile and Peter knows he's a goner. Your smile and he would watch the same show every day for the rest of his life.

You smile as Peter snuggles into your side before you start the show. The familiar theme song fills your ears.

It was just a lazy day at Stark tower.

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Please reblog and leave a comment if you enjoyed!

Requests are open!

#peter parker x stark!reader #Tony stark #Pepper Potts #happy hogan #Avengers tower #Stark tower #Peter Parker x reader #Fluff #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader fluff #peter parker x fem!reader

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mcubuckyxlokisbitch · 1 year ago

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Out of all the Time Lines Chpt1: Avengers I need your help

Short Series !

Female Asgardian reader (now avenger) X TVA Loki

MASTER LIST

Next chapter

Summary: After your Lokis death and have moved on and joined the Avengers. After the aftermath of Endgame you and the other remaining Avengers all seek shelter in the new Avengers Warehouse Pepper Potts bought as a temporary replacement while the Avengers mansion is being renovated. What happened after a very tired mission. Well, you're speechless, to say the least.

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You entered the living room with the rest of the team all covered in dust, scratches and tired faces. All of you just saved another casual disaster but the aftermath was the annoying part, burning buildings, hurt people, without Tony stark it meant the clean up crew for the Avengers were the Avengers.

"Alright, what movie and what restaurant shall we engage in tonight." You say as you use your magic to teleport your sword to your room and grab the telephone on the coffee table, plopping on the couch.

"I don't know, but I am in the mood for some Mexican food," Sam said walking in and taking off his goggles.

"Yeah no we just had Mexican yesterday Sam there is no way I am eating another burrito, enchiladas, or taco for the 5th time this week." Bucky shouted as he stretched out on the loveseat next to the couch.

Scott, Thor, Wanda, Peter, Kate and Yelena walked in as they made their way to the kitchen and the living room to relax after a long day.

"Well I for one could actually go for some Phò." Wanda said while grabbing a glass of water. "Yes that actually sounds nice," you replied.

"Second it." Bucky Raised his hand and passed out on the loveseat.

"I will fiest on any of your choosing," Thor said while taking off his cape to wipe off the gunk from storm breaker.

"Phò sounds wonderful. Just make sure I get one of those spring roles. Oh and don't forget were running out of chilli sauce." Yelena shouted from the fridge.

"I just restocked." Scott threw his arms and groaned. "hah." Yelena mocked.

Peter took off his mask and rubbed his forehead combing his hair back, he had the worst migraine ever. Was this a spider sense? Why is it worse than ever?

You shouted for his attention, "Peter man of the hour, Mexican or Phò." Peter didn't answer, he was trying to hold himself on the table trying to compile himself.

"Peter?" You looked towards him. You started to get worried and walked towards him. "Peter. Did you hear me, Phò or Mexican?"

Peter looked at you and fell on his butt.

"Look kid we all are tired but at least try to make it to the couch I ain't carrying you." Same teased.

"Peter are you alright," Wanda said with a concerned face rushing towards him.

"Just tired... crazy migraine, feels like a spider sense but not ...it's the worst I've had." Peter looked at the concerned faces towards him, while he found support from your hand "Probably just tired." he chuckled.

"Well Phò it is, maybe next time Sam." You shook the phone and gave it to Scott to take the orders because he knew the team lie the back of his hand.

"Peter do you require help to get on the couch." You brought Peter back up as he tried to make his way onto the kitchen island.

"I'm fine just need water and a good meal. Imma lay by here." He groaned and slipped onto the table face on the surface.

You went to the sink to pour him a glass of water. Placed it on the counter making sure he drank every drop.

You grabbed a popcorn pack from a top shelf and brought it to the microwave as you set the time. You looked back at Peter who was getting a second refill.

You crossed your arms as you leaned back on the wall waiting for the timer on the microwave to go off. You closed you eyes resting your head as you looked up the ceiling.

"Teya what movie...Not silence of the lambs"

"Action or Comedy, Sam I don't mind..." You sighed not opening your eyes taking some shut eye before the alarm in the warehouse blares for the next emergency.

"Cassie said Gnomeo and Juliet was nice," Scott said looking through his phone.

"Bucky is scared of the Frog." You chuckled.

"In my Defense doll I only said it to make my move on you." he smirked kissing your cheek.

"Now thats a new level of low and pathetic." Sam groaned in disgust. You try reach for an aspirin on the top shelf but Bucky beat you to it.

"Here." he passed the bottle to you.

"I lift cars, I think can lift a shelf handle." you retorted to him

"We talked about this doll," he places both his arms on your shoulder.

"Right..." you breathed and dialouged dramatically " Why thank you, James, you're such a gentleman." flipping your hair.

"OH I call dibs on Robocop" Yelena raised her hand after laying out all the snacks.

"I'm letting the kid's pop culture spinner decide." Sam takes the remote from Scott and faces back to Peter. "Yo Pete what movie."

"Babylon," Peter replied from the kitchen island still rubbing his temple.

"As long as it's not Hamilton." You teased.

"Sams got it all memorized by now." Bucky continued.

"Not as much as you Buck, I heard him belting burn last night," Sam replied. The microwave beeped as you turned your back from the crowd and you grabbed a bowl to place the pack in.

"Heh well, you can say he's gonna be your right-hand man." you giggled at your cringe joke. "Get it." but no response was made, just silence from the crowd.

"Oh cmon that was fun-" you turn to see the reason of their response and froze "Ny......"

"Avengers I need your help."

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p-taryn-dactyl · 2 years ago

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What about Tony Stark x daughter! reader who's dating someone (Could be Peter, but doesn't have to be) and Tony makes some sort of sex joke when talking to the both of them, but doesn't realize his daughter is asexual (the joke made her a tad bit uncomfortable) and it ends in her coming out to Tony? If not that's totally okay, ty either way! <3

a/n: hi!! Thank you so much for this request!! I love writing asexual!reader, it makes me all nice and warm inside :) i headcanon tony as being the most accepting father ever so yes i am projecting during this fic lol. The joke in this fic is more of an off handed thing, like an innuendo maybe, because i don’t think tony would openly joke about the devils tango with his child word count: 1.1k

The loud conversations of the other patrons of the restaurants did little to hide the sound of your beating heart. Nerves on edge, you folded your napkin over and over, almost ripping it until you felt a warm hand covering your own. Looking up, you saw the concerned yet comforting expression of your boyfriend. Peter smiled at you and you felt a small part of your fear melt away. Taking a deep breath, you entwined your fingers with his, squeezing slightly. Everything would be okay, nothing could go wrong tonight. Your dad loved Peter, he saw him as a son long before you started dating him.

“I think I hear him,” Peter whispered into your ear, squeezing your hand, “Let’s do this before all my bravado melts away like the ice cream we’ll have for dessert.”

You laughed slightly, your eyes going to the front of the restaurant, watching as your dad joked with the hostess before walking arm-in-arm with Pepper towards your table. Peter stood up as they approached, pulling out a chair for Pepper. He stared at Tony awkwardly before slowly pulling out your dad’s chair for him. Pepper hid her smile behind her hand as Tony sat down with a false sense of haughtiness. You stifled your own giggle at Peter’s expression as he sat down, looking at you with wide eyes before turning back to address your parents.

“Mr. Stark, I-”

Tony held a hand up, pausing Peter’s train of thought. Your dad leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him as he looked at Peter over the tinted sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

“Kid, I’ve trusted you in my lab, with my bots, I’ve trusted you with a suit to help the world. All I need to know is if I can trust you with my daughter?”

Peter nodded rapidly, seemingly stunned, a flush rising up his neck and cheeks. You covered his hand with yours, once more holding hands. Tony followed the movement with his eyes and after a minute, nodded and took off his sunglasses.

“Well, my part is over. Pep?”

Peter now looked genuinely terrified. You smirked slightly as you took a sip of your water, you knew your mother was an intimidating woman, you’ve seen politicians lose their poise just from one raise of her eyebrow. Peter’s eyes were wide as Pepper adjusted her silverware, waving out her napkin before laying it on her lap and bringing her eyes to meet Peter’s. Your boyfriend audibly gulped. You and Tony made eye contact before returning your attention to your respective partners.

“Let me be very clear. You make my daughter happy. If, and I mean every word, there is a day you let that happiness be broken because of your actions, you will regret it. I have friends in high and low places and if they can’t deal with you, I will do it myself.” Pepper finished her speech with a sip of the red wine you had ordered for her. Peter looked like he was about to pee his pants. He stuttered out a reply.

“If I ever break her heart, I’ll gladly accept your wrath, Ms. Potts.”

Your mom seemed to like that answer, as a wide smile grew on her face.

“Wonderful! Now, let’s look over the menu, I’m starving.”

As you looked over the menu, zoning out as you scanned over the options, you heard Peter and Pepper fall into a conversation over his schooling at MIT. A nudge against your calf made you look up at your dad, who was looking at you with a question in his eyes. You read it perfectly.

You okay?

You nodded, smiling softly before returning back to the menu. After a few moments, you decided on a sushi roll with lobster and mango as well as a side of gyoza. A waitress came over and took everyones order with ease before walking away, leaving your family to comfortable conversation. Mostly talking about school and secret hero business, you felt your dad’s social battery start to die out, the same slowly starting to happen to you. In an attempt to liven up the conversation, your dad looked at the two of you with a mischievous expression.

“So, I heard you two are sharing a hotel room tonight? Is this a ‘there’s only one bed’ situation?”

Something in the tone of his voice made you fidget, Peter looking over at you before answering.

“There’s only one bed as far as I’m aware, it was the cheapest option.”

Tony started to wiggle his eyebrows and a stream of thoughts ran rapidly in your mind.

Crap, he’s getting the wrong idea. You need to tell him, Y/N! Come on, he’s your dad, you can do this, tell him!

“Nothings going to happen, Dad!” You tried to match his joking tone but it came out as more of a squeal. Tony looked at you with concern, something in his eyes that you couldn’t interpret.

“Y/N, you and Peter are two consenting adults, I have no control over what you do as long as it’s safe and consensual-”

“I’m ace!” You blurted out, your eyes widening as you slapped a hand over your mouth. The table went silent, your parents looking at you with equally surprised expressions, Peter watching them with a protective glint in his eyes. You removed your hand from your mouth, lowering your eyes to the condensation that your drink had left on the table, drawing pictures in the water as you spoke.

“I’m-I’m asexual. I don’t like or want, uh, sex. I just don’t experience sexual attraction…” You trailed off, your voice already quiet as you waited for responses. What felt like years passed before you heard your dad whisper your name, raising your eyes to meet his. He had a sheen of tears in his eyes as he smiled at you.

“Thank you for telling me, I’m so proud. And I’m sorry if what I was insinuating made you uncomfortable.” The mature tone of your father’s voice threw you off and you smiled worriedly at your parents, Pepper returning your smile.

“So you don’t think I’m broken or I just don’t know what I’m talking about?”

Pepper was quick to answer.

“Oh honey, no. Being asexual isn’t being broken and if anyone tells you otherwise, they’re idiots who never developed advanced thinking.”

Peter sent your mom a grateful smile, not lost on you. Tony fidgeted a bit before saying something that shocked you.

“I’m demisexual. Your mother is the only person I’ve ever felt genuine sexual attraction to. Well, except maybe Steve Rogers.”

Pepper slapped Tony with her napkin as she laughed. You and Peter groaned at the mention of your dad’s not-so-fake crush on the Capsicle. The rest of the dinner went by smoothly, each of you ordering ice cream for dessert. That night, as you and Peter were cuddled up in the small hotel bed watching Doctor Who reruns, you wondered how you were so lucky for the people in your life.

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #pepper potts #pepper potts x reader #pepper potts x daughter!reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #asexual!reader #peter parker x asexual!reader #asexuality

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shinyasahalo · 5 months ago

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Top 100 AO3 Ships (All) Aug. 1, 2024

(M/M) Castiel/Dean Winchester (Supernatural TV) 117,406 fics

(M/M) Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf TV) 74,109 fics

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(GQ/GQ) Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens TV) 66,784 fics

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(M/M) Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (Marauders/Harry Potter) 54,026 fics

(M/M) Steve Rogers/Tony Stark (Avengers/Marvel) 47,795 fics

(M/M) Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku (My Hero Academia) 47,445 fics

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(M/M) Keith/Lance (Voltron) 35,350 fics

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(M/M) Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou (My Hero Academia) 33,247 fics

(M/M) Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood (Shadowhunters TV) 32,471 fics

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(M/M) Will Graham/Hannibal Lector (Hannibal TV) 31,749 fics

(F/M) Original Female Character/Original Male Character (All Fandoms) 30,852 fics

(M&M) Peter Parker & Tony Stark (Avengers/Marvel) 30,793 fics

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(F/M) Pepper Potts/Tony Stark (Iron Man/Marvel) 23,683 fics

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(M&M) Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku (My Hero Academia) 19,241 fics

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(F/M) Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley (Harry Potter) 19,005 fics

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(M/M) Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Min Yoongi | Suga (Bangtan Boys/K-Pop) 18,504 fics

(M/M) Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou (Haikyuu!) 18,473 fics

(M/M) Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier (X-Men/Marvel) 18,370 fics

(F/F) Original Female Character/Original Female Character (All Fandoms) 18,350 fics

(M/M) Dan Howell/Phil Lester (Video Blogging RPF) 18,104 fics

(F/N) The Doctor/Rose Tyler (Doctor Who TV) 17,388 fics

(M/M) Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren (Sequel Trilogy/Star Wars) 17,165 fics

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#Supernatural #Teen Wolf #Sherlock Holmes #Harry Potter #Good Omens #Marvel #AO3 Statistics #Shipping Stats #Fandom data compilation #Fanwork Research #All Ships

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 1 year ago

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Never Wanted to Leave Pt.4

Pairing(s): Tony Stark x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, Steve Rogers x Stark! Reader

Warnings: siblingxsibling

Words:4008

Summary: Just two spoiled rich kids using daddy’s money to get away to their private island.

Requested by @sharp-cheekbones-locked

PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO ANY OF THE WARNINGS/TAGS

#Marvel MCU #mcu fanfic #mcu fandom #MCU fanfiction #mcu reader insert #reader #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #tony stark fanfic #Tony Stark fanfiction #tony stark x reader

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mostly-marvel-musings · 9 days ago

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Christmas with you - Part 2

A/N: Alright, apologies for posting this so late! Let’s pretend it’s still the holiday season and Christmas Eve is just round the corner, shall we? @ccbsrmsf1 thank you once again, for simply being the best! Couldn’t have finished this without your support 💛

Pairing: Tony Stark x Single Mom! Reader

Warnings: Some holiday fluff.

Find Part 1 here

“And you’d have to see for yourself, Happy, she lives in a decent house, raises a son all by herself, I heard from the locals that she volunteers at the local animal shelter too. I mean, she’s practically perfect. And the kid too, he’s smart. She’s raised him—”

“Better than most kids you’ve seen these days, yeah I got it, Boss.” Happy interrupted, hiding a fond smile that adorned his battered face looking at his best friend and boss. He hadn’t seen Tony so affected by any interaction before, hell, he hadn’t seen his face light up in months, with the constant threats and a million other things he’d find his boss doing.

He couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe this accident had been good for him. Given that Tony had visited him when Happy was unconscious and blabbered some more about his encounter with you, just sealed the deal.

“Did I say that already?” Tony scratched the back of his head with a small chuckle, momentarily stopping to look at his injured friend before his assistant, Pepper Potts walked in.

“Tony, I was looking for you, where’s your phone?” She asked, frowning as he hid the device not so successfully behind the window pane. He’d been avoiding any and all work related calls since his mind was preoccupied.

“Uhh, it’s out of juice. What’s the matter?”

“I’ve had that car fixed like you asked and sent it back to the house you told me about.”

“Good good.” He nodded, wondering if you’d be delighted about the little gesture or offended, he wasn’t sure. You were a strong, independent woman who probably didn’t need a man to do things for her, but he wanted to do something nice for you, a little thank you for all your hospitality.

He wondered if it would be too soon for him to visit you again. Truth was, he wanted to.

“So this car we’ve had fixed, belongs to…” Pepper trailed off, looking at Happy who simply shrugged with a knowing smile.

“A bright, beautiful young lady, well, a single mom who practically saved me from dying out in the cold.”

A soft smile adorned Tony’s face as he described you, revisiting the memory of you and Noah, the brief encounter that refused to leave his mind.

“Are you going to see them again?” His assistant asked, hiding her smirk under a file she held.

“I hope so.”

The two closest people in his life exchanged looks as they watched a faint smile appear on Tony’s face.

“What was that?”

“Oh shut up! Don’t you have my company to run?” Tony rolled his eyes before walking out of the room, leaving them to chuckle behind him.

You were up bright and early the next day, surprising since you had made it a point to spoil yourself a little by sleeping in, with Noah. But then, old habits die hard.

Checking in on your son who was still peacefully knocked out, you padded downstairs to prepare your coffee. Unbeknownst to you, your repaired car stood outside the garage.

Carrying the piping hot liquid in your favourite mug, you were about to take a seat on the couch before your attention was drawn to what looked like a letter slipped from beneath your front door.

Just a little thank you for all your help. Oh and there’s a small present for Noah in your car too, from his favourite superhero.

Merry Christmas.

T. S.

Turning the note in your hands, you found his number which made you smile. You were truly touched by Tony’s gesture. Upon opening your door, you found your car right outside the garage, all fixed up. A peek inside, you found a big gift box which contained every kind of Iron Man merchandise imaginable, all in Noah’s size, of course. It was certainly going to make his Christmas.

You were truly left pleasantly surprised by the generosity. You’d be lying to yourself if you said he wasn’t on your mind ever since he left. His presence around the house made you realise how comfortable it could be to be with another man, and how alone you’d been. Not that you’d ever need one to feel complete. But that day, rather night with Tony was a tiny glimpse into ‘normalcy’ or whatever they’d call it.

You contemplated giving him a call, just to thank the man for his sweet gesture. Couldn’t harm anyone right? Though doubt started creeping in your mind as you mulled over the thought some more.

Deciding on a simple text instead, you grabbed Noah’s gift and headed back inside.

Thank you for fixing the car, Tony. You didn’t have to go through the trouble, but I appreciate it. Oh and for Noah’s present, he’s asleep now but I know he will freak out. So thank you, again. You are quickly becoming my favourite superhero too :)

Big plans for Christmas?

Y/N Y/L/N

You tapped the screen a few times, reading the message over and over again before pressing send. Finishing up your coffee, you went about preparing a delicious breakfast for the two of you, blueberry pancakes, which were Noah’s favourite. Plans were made of baking cookies together for Santa, so you began gathering stuff for that as well while waiting for your son to wake up.

“Is that for me?”

You heard Noah exclaim before his little feet carried him down the stairs, instantly making you smile.

“Good morning, Mama. I slept well.” You chuckled before picking him up, making him realise he hadn’t greeted you.

“Morning, Mama.”

He hugged you tight, only a few seconds before squirming from your grasp to see the big box with his name, already attempting to tear it open. Helping him out, you couldn’t help but gasp at the gifts inside. Not only did he have every Iron Man themed stationery and merchandise, but his very own Iron Man helmet with a pair of repulsors.

“Look Mama! I am Iron Man!” Noah yelled in excitement, putting the helmet on and posing like the superhero.

“You are! Let me take a picture and show it to Mr. Stark.”

You snapped a photo of him and sent it to Tony, adding a little note about spoiling him with the best Christmas present ever.

You saw the three dots appear almost instantly, indicating Tony had seen the message.

Looking good, superhero. Way better than I ever could.

Hasn’t been the ‘merriest’ of years so not exactly celebrating. How about you? Glad you texted back.

T. S.

You smiled, and texted your plans of baking cookies before placing your phone away. It had been a while since your heart fluttered the way it did upon hearing from Tony. Something deep within your heart hoped to see him again.

Little did you know that your Christmas wish was about to come true.

After Pepper and Happy practically pushed him into the car, Tony felt giddy with the possibility of seeing you again.

He’d been all for acting on impulse all his life but this felt different, this brought in a bunch of nerves along with excitement. He had picked up a little present for you

He thought of what he’d say when he would reach your town, going over details in his head. It was a good thing he had two hours to practice.

Meanwhile at the house, the living room smelled of freshly baked cookies as you pulled out the final batch of your chocolate chips, placing them on the cooling rack as Noah clapped happily, eager to eat them all.

“We let them cool down, Noah. What should we do until then?”

Your son thought for a while before deciding he wanted to go out for a walk and play in the snow.

Packing some extra cookies for your friends at the shelter, you stepped out with Noah. The snow had blanketed everything around, leaving it looking like a winter wonderland.

“Mama, snowman?” He looked up at you with hopeful eyes, jumping in joy when you agreed to build one.

It took some time, sweat and lots of giggles to finish the cute snowman you managed to make with your son, finishing it with a scarf and a little hat.

“Good?” You asked, admiring your handiwork.

“The best!” Noah hugged your legs before dragging you further into town, wanting to see everything the Christmas markets had to offer.

Tony had stopped by your house only to find it empty. He’d seen the snowman you built, that gave him hope that you were in town, probably out for some chores.

He’d contemplated waiting but then it would seem too desperate? Maybe. He would run into you by chance and make it seem like he happened to stop by.

The town, though laden with snow, had a certain warmth about it. People walking around with families, laughing and being merry. It was a stark contrast to what Tony’s world looked like most days.

Tony found himself liking the little town more than he’d led on. The storm swirling inside his mind was quieter here. Maybe, just maybe Tony thought this crash had landed him right where he wanted to be.

He walked around a bit, dodging the curious murmurs of people that passed by before his gaze landed on you and Noah sitting by the window of a quaint little coffee shop.

You looked beautiful in the morning light, the faint sun lit up your face just right as you fed your son, laughing about something he couldn’t hear.

The bell chimed as he entered the shop, spotting you in conversation with Noah and someone else. He made a few heads turn as he approached you, nodding in acknowledgment to people who recognised him.

The person you were speaking to turned around and let out a gasp upon seeing him, immediately fawning, something Tony was accustomed to. Politely enough, he engaged in a brief conversation and ordered himself a cup of coffee before turning his attention to you.

“You’re back.” You stated in disbelief, though your heart already began beating erratically on seeing Tony.

“You don’t sound so thrilled.”

“Oh no! I am, it’s just uh—I didn’t expect to see you here. That’s all.” You let out a nervous chuckle, hoping your partial truth was convincing enough. Though you hadn't expected to see him, you had secretly hoped.

He smirked before saying hi to your son whose excitement knew no bounds.

“What do we say, Noah?” You prompted as Noah demanded to be released from his high chair to hug Tony.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” He murmured almostly shyly now that Tony had hugged him back and picked him up.

“You’re welcome kiddo. Why aren’t you wearing your Iron Man suit?”

“Oh please, it took a lot of energy and convincing to get him to wear his regular clothes.” You interjected, making Tony chuckle as he placed Noah back down.

It was such a contrast watching the always sharply dressed Tony Stark in a cosy coffee shop, wearing a soft sweater and some jeans.

The owner of the shop who also happened to be a friend had very kindly given Noah some drawing supplies to keep him busy, something he enjoyed and of course, he had drawn a scene where all of his favourite superheroes were standing right outside his house. Tony took keen interest in the drawing, even grabbed a few crayons to help him colour which you watched in awe.

“You know you didn’t need to bring us anything, but thank you, Tony.”

Tony looked up from his drawing for a brief moment, a look that made your heart skip a beat.

“Don’t mention it. I wanted to.” He smiled, reaching out for his cup of coffee and downing it in one go. His fingers had a slight tremble to them which didn’t go unnoticed, his eyes darting around nervously; not the usual self-assured Avenger people were used to seeing.

“So…the merch had Iron Man underwear too huh?” You tried to break the ice, wanting to take away his nervousness in any way that seemed possible.

“Hey I wear them too.”

“What?”

“What? Nothing.”

You let out a laugh, unable to hold back as Tony’s eyes went wide at what he’d just said. A vivid picture of Tony Stark wearing his own red gold Iron Man boxers filled your mind.

His battery-operated heart did a flip hearing the sound of your laughter, it was one of his favourites already.

Conversation flowed easily between you two after that, ranging from projects he was working on to your holiday plans. Just like the other day, it felt easy, albeit his nervousness creeped in now and then.

“No Iron Man merch for me?” You teased, eyes dancing with mirth.

“Nah. You get me instead. Iron Man. In the flesh. Think that’s good enough for you?”

There was a sense of uncertainty on his face, something that indicated he wasn’t his usual self. It was pretty clear even though you had known him for less than five minutes.

He chuckled, leaning forward, your hands almost touching. It wasn’t usual for him to approach girls with a sense of uncertainty, but with you, it was different. He felt like he couldn’t mess this one up.

“Maybe.”

Feeling bolder, you reached out and placed your hand on top of his, quelling the doubts swirling inside his genius mind.

You excused yourself to talk to another friend who had walked in, leaving Tony with your son who seemed content being left alone with his idol.

“You come home, Mr. Stark? Mama made cookies.” He murmured, looking at him with the same dark brown eyes which matched Tony’s.

“I would love to, kid. I can’t say no to cookies.”

Or you, or your mom, he thought, with a faint smile.

Noah watched you engaged in conversation with your friend who was heavily pregnant, glancing at him, he waved enthusiastically before encouraging Tony to do the same.

“Mama said babies come from the tummy but she said I came right from Mama’s heart.”

Tony was taken aback at Noah’s admission, it was testament to how well you’d raised him. It made him respect you even more.

“Yeah you did, kid. Remember in her eyes, you’re the superhero. So you better look out for her, okay?”

Noah nodded earnestly, a sense of responsibility flashed across his tiny face as if he understood his duty well.

“Oh shit.”

Tony’s eyes went wide as he realised your son had cussed; the fact was Tony had picked up the wrong colour for the sky, considering he was too busy making heart eyes at you.

“We don’t say that word, Noah.” He tried to be as stern as he could.

“But Mommy uses it all the time!” Noah argued, looking at his ruined drawing, dejected.

“Mmhmm. And I will talk to her about it.”

Tony hid his smile, just in time to see you join their table again.

“What did I miss?”

“Not much, we’re bonding over our mutual love for green skies and certain cuss words.”

Tony stated, pulling his chair a little closer to yours, elaborating what had transpired, leaving you chuckling.

“He’s a great kid, Y/N. You’re a good mom.”

His compliment left a blush on your cheeks, shaking your head as you absentmindedly caressed a coffee cup in your hand.

“Why did you really come here, Tony?”

You felt the need to make things clear before anything further happened. You weren’t prepared to have your heart broken, and your son’s.

“I came to see you. And him. Mostly you.”

“Why?”

Now it was his turn to place his hand on top of yours, calming the growing anxieties inside you.

“I like you, Y/N. You’re an exceptional woman. And I would love to take you out, if you’d have me.”

Glancing at Noah, you looked up at Tony, finding no traces of false-heartedness. It wouldn’t be easy, maybe it would be if you were single and alone, but you weren’t. You had a three year old. And most guys stayed away from complications or responsibilities. But Tony seemed different, he was the kind of guy who wouldn’t be scared off because of the added responsibility. You felt a sense of security with him, that everything would work out. Like he’d be there to catch you if you took that leap of faith.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He repeated, mostly to make sure he heard you right.

“Yes. I would like that, Tony.”

You smiled, quieting his trembling fingers as they tapped against the table with a reassuring squeeze.

“Good. Because I have an invitation to eat some chocolate chip cookies and it would be really awkward if you hadn’t agreed.”

As if on cue, it started to snow outside, little flurries wafted through the air before settling on the already white ground. Snow always fascinated you, though in this town you were quite used to it.

“Look Noah, it’s snowing! Magical, isn’t it?” You murmured, looking out the window dreamily.

“Yeah it is.” Tony murmured, eyes focused on you instead of the wintery landscape you were referring to.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x female reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fluff #the stark squad #single mom! reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark #marvel fanfiction #mostly marvel musings #iron man x reader #iron man fanfiction #iron man fic

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blackhill2245 · 8 months ago

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Request information

I thought I would start taking requests, so here's who I'll write for and what I will write. I've ever written requests before, so just DM me and I'll try get to it as fast as I can.

Marvel

Natasha romanoff

Wanda maximoff

Pepper potts

Gamora

Nebula

Carol danvers

Maria hill

Greys anatomy

Amelia sheperd

Addison montgomery

Kai bartley

Carina deluca

Callie torres

Arizona Robbins

Station 19

Maya bishop

Andy Herrera

S.W.A.T

Chris Alonso

What I will write

I'll write most stuff, just not smut, male or non binary reader, because I would get confused. I might decline your requests, but I will always tell you why, and we can work something out.

I love writing trios, for example

Amelia x kia x fem reader.

I don't write for male charecters, they can be friends and all that just not romantic.

I'll do family pairings and kid/teen reader.

I might take other people's on the shows/movies listed above.

I can't wait to start with requests and hope you all enjoy.

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natashaslesbian · 2 years ago

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Welcome To My Blog ♡

I’m Astara / I’m 22 years old / She/Her / Lesbian / I write Marvel fics / I am neurodivergent and struggle with dyslexia.

See my masterlist and request info bellow<3

—————————————————————————

MASTERLIST:

Natasha Romanoff

Mommy’s got you now (Mom!Natasha x Daughter!Reader)

Fireworks (Natasha x Reader)

Tiny Dancer Series (Mom!Natasha x Daughter!Reader)

Babble (Mom!Natasha x Daughter!Reader)

The Ice Cream Is Too Hot (Natasha x Autistic!Reader

We Saved Each Other Series (Natasha x Kid!Reader)

Autumn Air (Natasha x Autistic!Reader)

7 Laps Round The Sun (Mom!Natasha x Daughter!Reader)

Sleepy Bear (Natasha x Reader)

I’m Not Pinocchio (Natasha x Reader)

Christmas Lies (Mom!Natasha x Daughter!Reader)

Three In The Bed (WandaNat x Teen!Reader)

Baby Bear (Natasha x Sick!Reader)

Mama Bear Mode (Natasha x Teen!Reader)

We Can Try (WandaNat x Teen!Reader)

Missing In Action (WandaNat x Reader)

Press (Natasha x Daughter!Reader)

First Moments (WandaNat x Daughter!Reader)

Send Out An Army (Natasha x Daughter!Reader)

For You (WandaNat x Daughter!Reader)

Birthday Girl (Natasha x Daughter!Reader)

Girl In The Park (Natasha x Teen!Reader)

Tiger-Lilly (Natasha x Daughter!Reader)

Red Hair, Green Eyes (Natasha x Teen!Reader)

Tasha’s Got You (Natasha x Autistic!Reader)

Secrets & Lies (Mom!Natasha x Daughter!Reader)

Under Their Gaze (BlackHill x Daughter!Reader)

Accidents Happen (WandaNat x Daughter!Reader)

Little Prankster (BlackHill x Daughter!Reader)

Terrible Twos (Mom!Natashax Daughter!Reader)

Stuffies (Kid!Reader x Natasha)

All I Want For Christmas (Kate!Natasha!Maria x Reader)

Happy House 1 | 2 | 3 (Natasha x Reader)

Kate Bishop

Best Friend Crush (Kate x Reader)

Little Devil (Kate!Yelena x Daughter!Reader)

The Protective Archer (Kate x Sister!Reader)

All I Want For Christmas (Kate!Natasha!Maria x Reader)

Yelena Belova

Little Devil (Kate!Yelena x Daughter!Reader)

Little Miss American Pie (Yelena x Daughter!Reader)

Wanda Maximoff

Three In The Bed (WandaNat x Teen!Reader)

We Can Try (WandaNat x Teen!Reader)

Missing In Action (WandaNat x Reader)

First Moments (WandaNat x Daughter!Reader)

For You (WandaNat x Daughter!Reader)

Accidents Happen (WandaNat x Daughter!Reader)

Scarlett Johansson

Math Test (Mom!Scarlett x Daughter!Reader)

Mine All Mine (Mom!Scarlett x Daughter!Reader)

Mamas Girl (Mom!Scarlett x Daughter!Reader

Safe With Her (Scarlett x Teen!Reader)

Paparazzi (Mom!Scarlett x Daughter!Reader

The Dance Recital (Mom!Scarlett x Daughter!Reader)

Forgotten (ScarLizzie x Daughter!Reader)

420 (Scarlett x Daughter!Reader)

Scarlett’s Here (Scarlett x Autistic!Reader)

Angel Wings (Scarlett x Daughter!Reader)

Another Mother Series (Colin!Scarlett x Reader)

Copy Cat (Scarlett x Daughter!Reader)

The First Day (Scarlett x Daughter!Reader)

Influenced (Scarlett x Daughter!Reader)

4 Inches Taller (Scarlett x Daughter!Reader)

The Favourite Child (ScarLizziex Daughter!Reader)

Healing Is Never Linear (Scarlett x Daughter!Reader)

Broken Hearted (Scarlett x Daughter!Reader)

Guinea Pig (Scarlett x Daughter!Reader)

Far Apart, but Close In Heart (Colin!Scarlett x Daughter!Reader

Fears (Scarlett x Daughter!Reader)

Elizabeth Olsen

Forgotten (ScarLizzie x Daughter!Reader)

The Favourite Child (ScarLizziex Daughter!Reader)

Colin Jost

Another Mother Series (Colin!Scarlett x Reader)

Far Apart, but Close In Heart (Colin!Scarlett x Daughter!Reader

Clint Barton

Birthday Cake (Clint x NatsDaughter!Reader)

Hoodie (Clint x NatsDaughter!Reader)

Maria Hill

Under Their Gaze (BlackHill x Daughter!Reader)

Little Prankster (BlackHill x Daughter!Reader)

All I Want For Christmas (Kate!Natasha!Maria x Reader)

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REQUEST INFO:

Who I write for

Natasha Romanoff / Scarlett Johansson / Elizabeth Olsen / Clint Barton / Yelena Belova / Wanda Maximoff / Steve Rogers / Kate Bishop / Tony Stark / Pepper Potts / Morgan Stark / Colin Jost / YN x characters listed /

What I write

Female reader only / fluff / angst / hurt / comfort / mentions of smut / little/kid reader(non sexual) /mental health / Neurodivergent reader /

What I don’t write

Male reader / detailed smut / homophobia / pedophiloa

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If I haven’t mentioned anything you had in mind feel free to request it! If I find anything uncomfortable I’ll inbox you privately🤍

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My requests/asks are ALWAYS open, you can also PM me about anything! This is a safe place for EVERYONE!

- Astara🩷

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#marvel fic #marvel #writers on tumblr #fanfic #mcu fandom #x yn #natasha romanoff #natasha x daughter!reader #black widow #avengers #nat x reader #natasha x little!reader #natasha romanoff x reader

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mrsstruggle · 2 years ago

Text

The Lost Child - Chapter 34 // Teen Wolf x Marvel AU

Summary: Y/N Stark was taken from her family when she was three years old. It's fifteen years later and her family believes she is dead. Then how is she living in Beacon Hills?

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Death/Injury/Grief/Torture, Possible Grammar Mistakes (please let me know if there is anything else)

Pairings: Derek Hale x Reader, Steve Rodgers x Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner x Natasha Romanoff, Vision x Wanda Maximoff, & More To Come

Previous Pairings: Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, Scott McCall x Allison Argent

Words: 5.5k

Note: Sorry this is so late!

Additional Note: While this is a Teen Wolf x Marvel AU, not everything is true to the shows/movies/comics. I had to change things for the story.

One Last Note: Y/N was adopted by Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. I did this so more people can see themselves in this story.

***I do not own Teen Wolf or Marvel or any related characters. This is a work of fanfiction and is meant for entertainment purposes only.***

Masterlist

The Lost Child Masterlist

Previous Chapter

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Everyone was quiet as they made their way through the woods toward the hunter's safe house. The only sound that could be heard was the crunching of leaves and sticks beneath their feet. Y/N knows it's wrong, but she wishes she was Allison right now so she wouldn't have to deal with everything.

Stiles doesn't like the silence but it's taking everything in him to break it. He's worried that if he starts talking then he won't be able to stop. He's also not sure if he wants to accidentally piss off anyone who's in charge of protecting his life.

As much as he's annoyed at everything that has happened and that has come to light, he also can't help but have a little fanboy moment inside his head. He's about to head into battle with the Avengers. The last time they stormed a place he had been sidelined. Now, he's walking through the woods, about to go into a little war with the hunters, with the Avengers suited up next to him. It's like a dream he always had but also mixed with a nightmare he always had.

He watches Y/N from the back of the group as she and Chris lead them to the safe house. He doesn't like that he's been paired with Liam and Peter, but it could be worse. He could be paired up with Peter Hale. He wouldn’t make it out alive if that were the case.

"Are we almost there?" Peter Hale asks.

"Why? Do you have somewhere better to be?" Scott questions.

"Yes. I was thinking about asking your mother out again."

"Wait, what?" Sam looks between Scott and Peter, confused about what he just heard. How old is this guy and why does it seem like he only hangs out with teenagers? He knows Peter is Derek's uncle, but he also dated one of these kids' mothers?

"Ignore him." Derek rolls his eyes at his uncle. He just wants to get this over with. He's tired of having to deal with the Argents and the Avengers. He wants to go home, wrap Y/N up in a warm blanket, and not leave their bedroom until they have to. This past week has caused him too much stress and he's over it.

Y/N comes to a stop and waits for the others to stand around her, "We'll split up here. Remember, Sam, Bucky, and Malia, you'll take the right side. Kira, Natasha, and Wanda, you'll follow them but then split off to the north side. Scott and Steve, you're going to the left side. Stiles, Liam, and Peter, you'll follow them. You're in charge of killing the Anuk-Ite, so good luck with that."

Chris takes off his backpack before unzipping it and holding it out to everyone, "Everyone take a walkie-talkie. I'm sure these aren't as advanced as some of you are used to, but they'll do. I've already set them to the correct channel but it's channel 7 if you mess it up."

"Radio in if you feel the Anuk-Ite so Stiles and them know where to go. He has the mountain ash to kill it so don't try killing it yourself," Y/N says while everyone grabs a walkie-talkie. "Also, radio if you need help. While we have an idea of what we're up against, there could be more and some of you have never had to fight these types of creatures before. They are very different from your space aliens."

"Anything else?" Stiles asks.

"Yeah, don't die."

"How are you not a motivational speaker?"

"Okay, let's go before they do this for another twenty minutes," Scott says, walking away from the group to the left where Y/N told him to go. Steve presses a quick kiss to Bucky's lips and murmurs something under his breath to him before following Scott.

"Radio in when you're in place!" Y/N yells out to Scott.

The rest of the Avengers watch as Y/N and Stiles lock their pinky fingers and promise each other they won't die. Y/N doesn't know it, but she's done that since before Pepper gave her away. Anytime they'd go on a mission she'd make them promise they were going to come back. She believed that pinky promises were a binding promise and that there was no way you could break them. It's little things like that that let them know that the girl they knew is still there, just a bit different.

"One last thing," Y/N sticks out her hand toward Chris. Chris pulls out a bulletproof vest from his backpack and hands it to Y/N. She quickly pulls it over Stiles' head and straps it around him before he has a chance to protest. "Just in case."

"Why have I never been given one of these before?" Stiles scoffs.

"Just be grateful you're getting one now. Now go."

Chris, Derek, Peter Hale, Tony, and Y/N watch as the others run off to where they're supposed to be.

"What else do you have in that bag?" Derek asks, eyeing the backpack in Chris' hand.

"You don't want to know," Chris zips his backpack up and puts it back on his back.

"We're in place." Scott's voice rings out of their walkie-talkies.

Y/N sighs as she tries to mentally prepare herself for the fight ahead, "I think I could sleep for a week after this. I'm surprised I haven't gotten a call from my boss yet saying I'm fired for being gone for so long. I swear I didn't have this many vacation days."

Derek moves to stand in front of Y/N to meet her eyes, "I'm sure they've seen the news and will understand why you haven't been in for a while. Scott said Melissa was covering for you so I'm sure it's fine."

"I'll have to get her something nice for covering for me this long."

"And she'll tell you that you don't owe her anything." Derek pulls Y/N close and presses a kiss against her forehead. He knows how stressed she is about everything because he's also stressed about everything.

"We're in place." Bucky's voice rings out from the walkie-talkies.

"How do you want us to get into the house?" Y/N turns to Tony at his question. She almost forgot the others were there with her and Derek.

"We need to wait until everyone has lured out as many hunters as possible then we fly in," Y/N says.

"You can fly as well?" Tony's eyebrows shoot up in shock. Did he miss something in the files Hydra made about her? Can werewolves fly?

"No, you'll have to either carry me or I can get on your back."

Tony goes to respond but Kira's voice cuts him off as it rings out through the walkie-talkies, "We're in place."

"Okay," Y/N looks around at Chris, Derek, Peter, and Tony, "you ready?"

Chris tightens the knife holders on his thighs and double-checks the gun in his hand, "Ready."

"Ready," Tony says as his suit builds around him.

"Can we finally get this over with?" Peter asks, inspecting his claws.

"I'm going to climb up into a tree until I think it's time for us to hit the house. You should do the same." Y/N says, looking at Tony. "I'm their biggest target and if they know where I am then they'll forget about the others. We've got to hide a bit first."

"I'll follow you," Tony replies.

Y/N looks back at Derek, "Be safe and kick some hunter ass. I love you."

"I love you too," Derek says before pressing a hard kiss on her lips, as if he's scared he won't see her again.

Y/N pulls away and walks over to the nearest tree, "You know what to do babe!"

Derek, Chris, and Peter watch as Y/N starts to climb up the tree and Tony flies up into the one next to her. Derek waits until he can no longer see her figure before transforming into his beta form.

"Now we can get this over with," Derek says, letting out a loud roar to let everyone know it's time to go and to let the hunters know they're here.

---

Steve tightens the shield around his arm before looking up at the sound of a roar.

"What was that?" Peter asks, looking around making sure nothing is coming at them. He's dealt with a lot of weird things being in the Avengers, but he's never heard something like that before.

"That was Derek," Stiles states.

"You stay here and wait for someone to radio you," Scott tells Stiles, Liam, and Peter.

"Where are you going?" Liam asks.

"We're going straight towards them. Let's go." Scott nods at Steve to follow him.

Steve huffs a bit in frustration as he follows Scott. He doesn't enjoy being told what to do from a teenager. If it was Y/N here, he would follow without question. She might have been gone for 15 years, but he'd still trust her with his life.

Scott slows as he gets closer to the safe house. He can already hear a few hunters loading their guns and sharpening their knives. He listens to their panicked voices as they talk about the roar they heard and how they know they're being attacked. If he focuses hard enough, he can also hear Stiles, Liam, and Peter bickering behind them.

"Let's stop here. We don't want to get too close." Scott says. "We need to lure them out here." Scott tries to count the number of hunters standing outside of the house in front of them.

"I got it," Steve states, throwing his shield out toward the hunters. The shield hits three hunters, knocking them to the ground, before coming back to Steve.

"That's one way to do it," Scott mumbles, watching as the hunters look their way. He quickly ducts behind a tree as the hunters slowly make their way towards them.

Steve ducts behind another tree as they wait for the hunters to come closer. He can hear the ground crunch behind him letting him know where they are. He waits until he can see the end of a gun before jumping out and knocking the hunter back into two others.

That's when all hell breaks loose.

Scott jumps out from where he's hiding as all eyes are on Steve, throwing the hunter closest to him into a tree—knocking him out. Bullets start to fly as Steve and Scott attack. Scott is surprised he hasn't been hit by any bullets yet as he knocks out another hunter.

Steve throws his shield toward the hunter's legs, the vibranium metal breaking their knees and shins as it hits them. He quickly knocks them out as they hit the ground one by one. It's not long until they've taken out all the hunters that attacked them.

"Is that it?" Steve asks, knocking out the last hunter.

"I doubt it. The others must have the rest of the hunters distracted or the rest of them haven't left the safe house." Scott says, looking around for other hunters.

"We should move in," Steve says, moving towards the safehouse before Scott sticks out an arm to stop him.

"Not until we're told too."

"There's no one over here. We should move in."

"Not until Y/N tells us too."

Steve doesn't understand why they can't just move in. They easily took out the hunters. He doesn't understand why they were acting like they were going to be a challenge. The hunters are down on their side, and they have a clear shot toward the safe house.

Scott's head quickly turns as he starts to smell something in the air, "Do you smell that?"

"What?" Steve doesn't know what Scott's talking about.

"It smells like..." Scott's voice trails off as his eyes widen as he looks behind Steve.

Steve quickly turns around to see four large creatures standing behind him. They look like men wearing bones and an animal skull for a mask. "What am I looking at?"

"Berserkers."

---

Sam and Bucky are standing back-to-back as they fight off the hunters around them while Malia holds off more of them.

"How many of these guys are there?" Sam asks, slamming another hunter onto the ground.

"I don't know but they're pissing me off," Bucky says. His arm comes up to block the bullets being shot at him from a hunter on the ground. He rips the gun out of the hunter's hand and knocks him out with a quick kick to the face.

Bucky turns to find another hunter to attack to see the hunters fleeing from them.

"Why are they running?" Sam asks.

"Something's coming," Malia states, her eyes closed while trying to listen to her surroundings.

Bucky tries to listen and see if he can hear what she hears. He closes his eyes for a second. It sounds like something is running toward them. He opens his eyes and stares into the woods in front of him. Something is charging at them.

"Get down!" Bucky tackles Sam to the ground as a deer jumps out from the trees and almost tramples over them. It runs past them almost as quickly as it appeared. It looked rabid.

"What the hell?" Sam mutters, staring at where the deer ran off.

Bucky looks down to where Sam is in his arms from when he tackled him. Disgusted, he scrambles up off the ground and away from Sam.

"Did you smell that?" Malia asks.

"Robo boy's cheap cologne? Yeah, I smelled it." Sam says, wiping the dirt off his suit as he stands up from the ground.

"No, the deer. It smelled like fear."

"Fear?" Bucky asks. He thought that something was running at them but what if it was running away from something? He slowly pulls out his walkie-talkie while his eyes dart around. "We found the Anuk-Ite."

"On our way," Stiles' voice rings out from the walkie-talkies.

"Are you sure?" Sam questions Bucky.

"Yeah, I'm su–" a pained scream from the woods cuts him off. He pauses, his head whipping toward the sound.

"Bucky! Buck!" someone is screaming out for him. He moves to run into the woods, but Malia moves in front of him to stop him.

"What are you doing?" Malia asks.

"Do you not hear someone screaming?!" Bucky yells, angry that she's preventing him from finding whoever's yelling for him. He swears it almost sounded like Steve.

"The only person screaming right now is you," Sam says.

"What?" Bucky looks between Sam and Malia. Can they not hear what he's hearing?

Sam stares at Bucky for a second before realizing what's happening, "Close your eyes! Close your eyes now!"

"Why am I closing my eyes?!" Malia yells, her eyes now shut tight.

"It's the Anuk-Ite. Whatever happens, don't open your eyes."

Sam, Bucky, and Malia stand still as they wait for something to happen. They're hoping Stiles gets here soon to kill the thing.

"How could you?" Bucky quickly whips his head around, his eyes still shut tight, as Steve's voice whispers in his ear. "Why?"

"I don't understand..." Bucky whispers, confused about what's happening.

"I told you to finish him." Bucky's head whips around again. He knows that voice. It belongs to the man responsible for turning him into the Winter Soldier, Arnim Zola.

"Buck...no," Steve's voice whimpers. "This isn't you."

"You have your orders, soldier! Kill him!"

"No!"

"You can't stop him, Steve. He's no longer the boy you used to know. He never will be. He has always been the Winter Soldier, and he always will be."

Bucky's closed eyes tighten as he repeatedly mutters to himself, "This isn't real. It's not real."

"Buck..." Steve's voice is quiet. Bucky can feel a soft hand caress his cheek. It feels like Steve.

"I'll do it." That sounds like Y/N's voice but harsher. It sounds like when she was pretending to be under the hunter's and Hydra's control.

"Ah, my perfect soldier. Always ready to do what you're told." Zola's voice sounds closer than it was before.

"She's not your soldier," Bucky growls. Y/N will never be Hydra's soldier.

"I think you're forgetting who you are. Let me remind you. Longing. Rusted. Seventeen. Daybrea–"

"Shut up!"

"It's who you are! Now, finish your mission!"

"No!" Bucky is trying to remind himself that this isn't real but it's getting harder too.

"Let me." Y/N's voice is now coming from in front of him. "Just admit it. You couldn't save yourself, you couldn't save me, and you couldn't save Steve."

"Wh-what are you talking about?"

It goes quiet. Maybe it's over?

As Bucky brings a hand up to his face to wipe away the overwhelmed tears that were slowly falling from his eyes, he hears someone being stabbed in front of him. His body goes rigid as he hears someone start to choke—possibly on their own blood.

"Hail Hydra," Y/N's voice whispers in his ear.

Bucky quickly opens his eyes toward the ground in shock and confusion. His eyes move slightly in front of him to a knife sticking out of someone. Not just someone. He'd recognize that uniform anywhere. Steve.

Bucky's eyes shoot up to Steve's face only to be met with the glowing purple eyes of the Anuk-Ite. His body immediately turned to stone.

"Buck, you still good?!" Sam calls out, unaware of what just happened. He can't hear Bucky, but he can hear Malia. She sounds like she's apologizing to someone until she goes quiet. "Malia?"

"Malia?!" Sam can hear someone yelling for her.

"Uncle Sam?! Uncle B?!" Peter rushes into the area where Sam, Bucky, and Malia are. Liam and Stiles run in behind him.

"Oh my god..." Stiles stares at Malia's frozen figure. She looks like a statue from Medusa's lair in the Percy Jackson movie.

"Please tell me you're real?" Sam asks.

"The Anuk-Ite's gone," Liam says.

Sam opens his eyes to see Peter staring at a Bucky statue. Stiles and Liam are also crouched down next to a Malia statue.

"What happened?" Peter turns to look at Sam.

"I-I don't know. One second it was here and now it's not. I'm not even sure when this happened." Sam gestures to Bucky. Why didn't the Anuk-Ite go for him? He could hear Bucky talking to someone—most likely whoever the Anuk-Ite wanted him to talk to—and he could hear Malia, but nothing ever happened to him.

"Now what?" Liam asks.

"They still need people attacking on this side," Stiles says. They need people to weaken the hunters from every side.

"I can still do it but I don't know if I can do it alone," Sam states.

"I'll stay," Liam volunteers. "I can help on this side while you two get the Anuk-Ite."

Stiles looks hesitant but agrees, "Make sure nothing happens to them." Stiles looks between Malia and Bucky and wonders how much longer he has before their current state is permanent.

"Where do you think it went?" Peter asks.

"I don't know."

---

"What the hell are these people?!" Nat yells out, barely missing the edge of the blade that swipes at her.

"They're Oni!" Kira yells back. She's trying to hold off four Oni while Natasha and Wanda fight the other three.

"I thought we're supposed to be fighting hunters?!"

"I thought the same thing!" Wanda yells.

Natasha ducks as one of the Oni swings their sword at her. She's able to remove the sword from the Oni's hand as the sword lodges itself in the tree next to her. Nat quickly pulls the sword away from the tree and watches as the Oni pulls another sword out of nowhere.

"We're going to die here." Nat mumbles, readying herself to continue fighting.

As Kira blocks the Oni's swings, she can see the glint of a weapon coming from within the trees behind them. "I think the hunters have finally decided to join them!" She hears something firing.

Wanda and Natasha turn to see several hunters running toward them. Most of them seem to be carrying guns while the others seem to be holding knives. Nat can count about thirty hunters.

"You guys take the hunters! I've got these guys!" Kira yells at them, her eyes starting to glow.

"You sure?!" Nat asks.

"Go!"

Wanda and Natasha break away from the Oni and charge toward the hunters. Nat throws the sword in her hand on the ground and pulls out her Glock 26s. As the hunters start to shoot at them, Wanda uses her powers to rip a tree out of the ground and throw it through the group of hunters — knocking several to the ground.

Nat ducks behind a tree as bullets fly past her. The bullets slowly come to halt as she reloads her guns. She can hear footsteps getting closer to her. It sounds like five different people are coming toward her. Nat puts one of her guns back in its holster as she takes a deep breath.

As the tip of a hunter's gun comes into view, she grabs the front of the assault rifle while throwing her elbow into the hunter's face. He lets go of the gun as she knocks him out with the butt of her Glock. Adjusting the assault rifle in her grip, she turns and shoots down the other four hunters.

"I thought we weren't supposed to kill any of them?!" Wanda yells out to Nat.

"I don't remember agreeing to that!" Natasha yells back.

Wanda throws another hunter back as she watches Nat take down more as well. Looking back at Kira, she notices a glowing figure around the young girl as she fights off the Oni.

Kira can feel her anger and frustration growing as she continues to fight. She can also feel her control starting to slip. The fox spirit around grows bigger and bigger the longer she fights.

As she feels a blade cut through her right thigh, her fox quickly grows before launching itself at the seven Oni. A blinding light shoots out as the Oni are killed, hindering the hunters. Kira can feel her fox getting more powerful with each Oni it takes out.

With her back facing the light, Natasha uses the distraction to shoot down the rest of the hunters. Looking over at Wanda, she can see her crouched behind a tree blocking the light with her hands. As the light disappears, she turns around to find Kira kneeling on the ground and no Oni around her.

"What happened?!" Nat yelled toward Kira.

"I killed them!" Kira yells back, pressing down on the wound on her leg as it starts to slowly heal.

"Why didn't you do that earlier?!"

"I don't really have control of it!"

"Did you have to kill all of them?" Wanda asks Natasha, looking at all the dead hunters behind them.

"Did you want me to wait until they killed one of us?"

Wanda rolls her eyes at Nat's response. She could've put them all to sleep but it's too late for that now. She walks over to where Kira is now sitting on the ground.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. My leg should be good in just a minute." Kira replies.

"I wonder if everybody else also has to deal with more than just hunters?" Nat mumbles, sitting down next to Kira.

---

Sitting up high in a tree, Y/N watches as Derek, Peter, and Chris battle the hunters down below. She can hear her radio go off and Scott's voice asking for help. It takes everything in her to not jump down and help after one hunter's knife gets a little too close to Derek's throat.

"Is this what you deal with here in Beacon Hills?" Tony questions, watching as more hunters seem to come out of nowhere.

"Yeah, but hunters have always been the least of our worries," Y/N replies, her grip tightening on the tree in anger as more hunters appear. She could easily use her powers from here and take them out but then Kate would know where she is.

Tony feels at a loss for words. Watching the hunters down below, he can't believe this is what his daughter has been with. He doesn't know why this didn't hit him before. He was so caught up in everything else, he hasn't taken a step back to notice how calm she and her friends seem to be about everything.

Since the Avengers have been in Beacon Hills, they've dealt with hunters, Hydra, and more. He knows to an extent what Y/N dealt with when she was with Hydra, but what else has she dealt with?

Friends of hers have apparently died and he has no idea why. Was it because of hunters? Was it because of something else they've faced? Or was it something that has nothing to do with this little world she lives in?

Tony stares at Y/N as he thinks of something to say. He has so many things that he wants to say and so many questions he wants to ask but now is not the time.

"I can practically hear you thinking from here," Y/N looks up and locks eyes with Tony. "I know you have a lot of questions and so do I. I don't really know how long you're going to be here in Beacon Hills, but I'd like to start over after all of this is done."

"We can stay as long as you want. You can come back with us too...i-if you want. I-I mean I know you're a lot older now, but we kept your rooms the same as you left them. Well, we have a cleaner that cleans them once every two weeks."

"Rooms?"

"Yeah, one at the compound and one in our old home. We haven't lived there since you...disappeared. I still kept it though just in case."

"Even after you thought I was dead?"

"You're not the only person we've known to be presumed dead to still very much be alive. I didn't want to give up hope. No matter how little it became."

Y/N doesn't know what to say to that. She looks back down to watch the others fight off the hunters. Most of the hunters are down so now is a good time to get to Kate.

"We should go now," Y/N looks back at Tony.

"How are we doing this?" Tony asks, not sure how to carry Y/N.

"Can I just get on your back?"

Tony flies off the tree and hovers in front of Y/N with his back turned toward her, "Let's go."

Y/N pulls herself away from the tree and climbs onto Tony's back. A small smile appears on her face as it reminds her of the piggyback rides her dad, the sheriff, used to give her all the time as a kid before they lost her mom. As Tony takes off toward the safe house, she wonders if Tony or the others ever used to carry her like this when she was younger.

Y/N holds on tighter to Tony as he crashes into the middle of the house. Once Tony has landed on the ground, she hops off his back and surveys her surroundings. They landed in what appeared to be the living room but there was no one around. There's no one shooting at them, charging at them, or even watching them. They are completely alone.

"Why is no one here?" Tony asks, his blasters ready just in case.

"I don't know..." Looking around Y/N can see weapons and ammo everywhere. On the wall, she can see pictures of herself and all her friends. There's even some of the Avengers. There's a large blood stain on the floor but there is nobody. Whose blood is it?

It's also quiet. Too quiet. If she listens in, she can hear the others fighting, but it's quiet in the house. Kate must be hiding somewhere. If there's one thing Y/N knows about the Argents, it's that they love a good basement moment. That's probably where Kate is hiding out. And if she's hiding then she knows she's outmatched. She knows they're losing.

As she turns to look at Tony, a body flies through the living room window. Y/N jumps back and is ready to attack until she notices who it is.

"Isaac?"

Isaac groans in pain but makes no move to get up off the floor, "Hey Y/N."

"H-how? What?"

"Scott told me everything so we came to help."

"We?"

As Isaac goes to answer, a girl with a crossbow steps through the broken window, "Isaac?!" She starts shooting toward something Y/N can't see.

"Braeden?"

"Who are these people?" Tony asks Y/N.

"He's a friend and she's..." Y/N pauses as she thinks of a way to describe who Braeden is, "she's a friend of Derek."

Isaac snorts, "Yeah, a friend."

Y/N kicks Isaac's arm at his comment, "What's happening out there? How'd you go through the window? Why haven't you got up?"

"I can't really move."

"What do you mean?" Y/N crouches down next to Isaac in concern.

"We aren't the only ones who know a kanima apparently."

Y/N rolls Isaac onto his side and looks at the scratch on his neck. She can see some of the venom still dripping from the wound.

"Who else has been affected by it?" Y/N asks, laying Isaac back down on his back.

"Scott was protecting a guy on the ground with a shield when I found them," Braeden replies, walking over to them.

Tony curses under his breath, "Should we help them?"

"Kira and two other girls are currently helping Scott."

Y/N turns her head to the broken window as she hears a loud roar. It sounded like Scott but she's not sure.

"Is it just the kanima they're fighting?" Y/N asks.

"No, there's Berserkers as well. Four of them."

Y/N stands up and looks at Tony, "Stay here and help them. I've got Kate."

"You're not going alone," Tony states. He's not going to abandon his daughter. He's here to protect her.

"They need your help more than I do. If the kanima takes more of them down, they will all be dead. Help them."

Tony hesitates for a moment before agreeing, "Fine, but then I'm coming back to help you."

"Fine. I'll probably be in the basement. At least that's where I'm assuming she is."

Tony looks like he's going to hug her for a moment before flying out through the broken window. Y/N can hear when he finds the others.

"So that's your dad huh?" Isaac says with a small smirk on his face.

Y/N rolls her eyes and huffs, "Shut up." Her radio sparks to life and she can hear Chris Argent calling for Stiles. The Anuk-Ite must be near them. Y/N turns to Braeden, "I've got Kate. Make sure he stays alive."

Y/N flicks her claws out as she checks all the doors to see if any lead into the basement. When she opens the fourth door, she sees stairs leading down into another room. She walks down slowly until she reaches the bottom.

Looking around, the stairs seemed to have led her to a hallway instead of a room. There are four different doors, and she doesn't know what's behind any of them. There's a long ugly rug that runs throughout the middle of the hallway. It looks out of place in the modern-looking hallway.

She's about to open the first door when she notices the end of the rug is flipped up as if someone tripped over it. That's when she notices something behind it. Moving the rug with her foot, she finds an escape hatch.

Y/N bends down and opens the hatch. Not seeing anything dangerous, she jumps down into what seems to be a tunnel. Looking down at the ground, she can see a single set of footprints leading away from her.

She follows the footsteps until she gets to the end of the tunnel. She notices a small ladder leading up to another hatch. Y/N climbs up the ladder and slowly opens the hatch. It takes her a second to realize where she is. She's next to an old lake her mom used to take her and Stiles to during the summer.

Climbing out of the tunnel, she looks around for Kate. She knows she's here, but she can't seem to see her.

"Kate! I know you're here!" Y/N yells out.

As she moves to look around, a bear trap snaps around her right ankle. Screaming out in pain, Y/N falls to the ground.

"I was wondering when you would show up, but I'm surprised you showed up alone." Y/N whips her head around to see Kate slowly walking up to her with twenty other hunters and two Berserkers behind her.

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