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thyme-in-a-bubble · 4 months ago

Note

i’ve never made a request before so sorry if this is bad but if you could write something about matt murdock with a fake dating trope like that would be so cute, especially if there’s feelings realized during/after it :)

a/n: i swear, i tried to just keep this short and sweet like how i usually keep requests, but then the fantasy i came up with was just too fun and too much like a fucking romcom not to just let myself go ham and turn it into a full-on long fic

word count: 3778

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Leaning your weight against the bar, you waited for Josie to return with another round of beers for you and your friends, who still remained exactly where you’d left them, all clustered around the pool table further into the space.

Absentmindedly, you fiddled with the ring so often glued to your fingers, passing the heirloom from each digit and sliding it onto the next. It had been your grandmother’s, and ever since her passing, the simple golden circle with a little jade embedded at the cusp of it, rarely stayed in your jewellery box as the act of simply glancing down at it on your finger somehow offered you a drop of comfort in moments of mundane gloom.

As the heirloom arrived at your left ring finger and slid down over the knuckle, a familiar voice suddenly emanated like an echo after the bar’s front door had swung open.

“Y/n?” your whole body froze up at the unexpected timbre.

Slowly, you twisted around to discover none other than your ex, wide eyes trained on you as he clutched the hand of a leggy blonde.

“Henry!” you gasped, hoping they mistook the horrified look on your face for innocent shock, “oh my god…”

Without any warning, the next thing you knew, he’d yanked your stunned form into a hug, “how the hell are you?” he clapped your shoulder as if you were old school chums, “it’s been so long.”

“I’m–, uhm, fine,” you managed to reply.

“Yeah?” he smiled, the insincerity in your tone completely flying over his head, “that’s great.”

Simply to be polite, you awkwardly asked, “…how are you?” even though you truly didn’t wish to know the answer.

“I’m good, yeah, life’s been kinda crazy lately because–, oh,” he suddenly paused to glance back at the girl by his side, “Y/n, you remember Rebecca, right?”

“Mhm,” you hummed and offered her a glance, fearing steam might billow out of your ears at any moment, “hi.”

“Hey,” she smiled brightly as she tossed her luscious locks over her shoulder, “and please don’t mind him,” she clapped a palm over Henry’s chest, “he’s just freaking out, you know, usual guy stuff before finally getting tied down.”

“I’m sorry,” you blinked, nearly pinching yourself to test if this was a nightmare or not, “before what?”

Rebecca then held up her left hand to flash you the massive rock nestled on her fourth finger.

“I finally popped the question!” Henry grinned and draped an arm around his fiancé.

“Wow, oh wow, that’s–…” you sputtered as the blonde promptly shoved her hand in your face for you to get a better look, “that’s a really big rock, right there, on your finger…” your touch floated up and tilted her palm slightly, the light from the neon sign close by glinting in the diamond, “congratulations…”

“Thanks!” she smiled down at the ring herself before her fingers suddenly captured your own and twisted your hand around, “oh wait, congrats to you too!”

“What?” you still simply tried to keep breathing through this agonising gut-punch of an encounter.

“I know they say that size doesn’t matter,” Rebecca eyed the tiny green stone that adorned your grandmother’s ring, “and it doesn’t! I mean, that’s so pretty,” she uttered in a sugary sweet and insincere tone that made you feel as if you were back in high school again, “understated, simple.”

“Ah, no way,” Henry peeked down at your hand, “you’re engaged too?”

“Uh…” you let out a shaky breath, “yep,” the lie then suddenly flew out past your lips before you had a chance to stop it, “that’s me! I’m getting married.”

“That’s amazing,” your ex let out an airy chuckle, “who’s the lucky guy?”

But before your lips could part and let out another lie, Josie returned, “here you go, hon,” and slid four beer bottles across the bar to you before adding, “and would you tell Foggy to stop sitting on the edge of the pool table? It’s old and I can’t be responsible if it breaks on him.”

“Sure thing,” you promised and snatched up the drinks.

“Is that your man?” Henry cast a glance to the lawyer Josie had gestured to, “Foggy, was it?”

“Foggy?” a soft giggle couldn’t help but bubble out of your lungs, “no! Don’t get me wrong, he’s great, but no, sadly, he’s already taken.”

“Then who is it?”

“Is it the other guy over there?” Rebecca chimed in as they both sent their glances towards your friends, “the one in the light blue shirt and tinted glasses?”

“Uh, yeah…” you squeaked as you slowly turned to look at Matt as well, “that’s–, uh, that’s him,” you watched as he readjusted his grip on the cue stick in his hand, “that’s my future husband…”

“Hm,” a sliver of judgment slipped out of Henry, “wouldn’t have pegged him to be your type.”

“Well, maybe my type has changed,” you stated, letting your lingering resentment show before you noticed how harsh it had come out and your stomach immediately began to twist and knot in regret, “I–…” you swiftly winched, “sorry,” and averted your gaze, “have a nice evening, uh–, I’m gonna go back to my friends,” you stumbled as you tried to escape.

Though as you turned to walk away, Henry’s voice found your ears one last time, “bye!” before you heard his fiancé turn to him.

“Pookie? Would you order me a cosmo?” her voice began to fade into the background, “I’ll go find us a table…”

You simultaneously felt as if a truck had just run you over as your feet carried you back towards your friends, yet also completely numb, as if you’d been turned into a floating ghost of the person you used to be.

“Who the hell was that and why do you look like you’re about to throw up?” Foggy asked cautiously as he grabbed two of the bottles in your grasp and handed one off to Matt.

Passing one of the remaining drinks off to Karen, you then lifted your own up to your lips before tipping it back and downing around half of its contents. Once you tilted the dark green bottle back down, you were out of breath as you began to explain, “that,” you wiped your bottom lip with one of your knuckles, “was my ex,” you used that same finger to hazily point back over your shoulder, “and his fiancé,” your eyes stayed fuzzy as you added, “who happen to be the girl that he cheated on me with for a year before I one day finally caught them together.”

“Oh my god…” Karen breathed, her bottle frozen halfway on its journey up towards her lips.

“It was on easter,” you shared, “he thought I had gone back home to see my family, but I’d actually decided to secretly do this whole big surprise, like I thought I was in fucking rom-com or something,” you sighed at your past self, “but then when he got home from work, and I was all decked out, waiting on the bed, in bunny ears and everything,” you heatedly gestured to the top of your own head, “he wasn’t alone.”

“Wow…” Foggy stared.

“Yep…” you exhaled heavily, taking another swig before you made the mistake of glancing back over your shoulder just as Rebecca shrugged off her coat and slinked onto a stool at one of the small tables, “fuck!” you exclaimed as if you’d just stubbed your toe, “she’s even hotter than I remembered. How is that possible?”

“Oh, she’s not that pretty,” Karen tried, but you swiftly cut her off.

“You shut your face, she’s basically a human-sized Barbie,” your glare roamed one last time from the top of her platinum locks to the bottoms of her high stilettos, “god…” you sighed as you finally averted your gaze and lifted your bottle to drown your sorrows, “I was such an idiot back there. It was like my brain just stopped working and–, oh my god!” your palm shot up to cover your mouth as you then suddenly recalled the lie that had slipped out. Slowly, your wide eyes drifted to Matt, who still remained silent, “oh no…”

“What is it?” Foggy chimed in.

“Matt…” you uttered tensely, knowing your friend well enough to be aware of just how much of the interaction with your ex he had overheard, “I am so sorry…”

“What?” Karen’s glance darted between you both, “what’s going on?”

Paralysing embarrassment churned your stomach and choked out any attempt you made to share the truth. But luckily, as your erratic heartbeat thumped and found Matt’s sharp ears, he eventually filled in instead, “…they thought that she was engaged as well and then assumed that I was the guy.”

“I am so, so sorry,” you gasped, “I don’t know why I didn’t correct them.”

But to your amazement, Matthew simply shrugged and offered you a reassuring smile, “it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“I was just fiddling with my ring and then they just–…” you then snuffed out your frantic explanation and instead repeated once again, “I’m sorry…”

Saddling up beside you, Karen planted a palm on your shoulder, “hey, if that was my ex, then I’d wanna give him some of his own medicine as well,” she stated, “if not just straight up cut off his balls, which is what he really deserves.”

A faint smile then began to soften your expression as you glanced around at your supportive friends, Foggy briefly reaching out to pat your other shoulder.

But as you averted your eyes to the nearly empty bottle in your grasp, a thought suddenly struck you like a bolt of lightning, “wait, I have an idea…” your gaze slowly lifted to lock on Matt, “I mean, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, I totally get it, but would you mind, just while they are here, to–, uhm…”

Cocking his eyebrow, he finished your sentence, “…to pretend to be your fiancé?”

“I know, it’s stupid, and I should probably just go home right now instead of playing some weird and immature game of revenge or whatever,” you uttered as you made the decision to lie in the grave you’d dug for yourself, “but I would forever be in your debt, I'm serious.”

Sucking in a breath, he barely had to think about it before he murmured, “sure.”

“Really?” you gasped, your brows shooting up, “you’ll do it?”

“Yeah, why not?” Matt shrugged, “it’s the very least he deserves for treating you like that.”

“Oh,” you crossed the short distance between you two and threw your arms around him. It took a second before you felt him hug you back, but when the alcohol got to your head and made you mutter, “I love you,” into his shoulder, a low chuckle rumbled in the lawyer's chest before you parted ways.

“So,” Karen then began to fish out the colourful spheres and roll them back into the green felt, “do we still wanna play another game?”

“Hell yeah,” Foggy picked a cue stick back up before adding a playful threat, “you’re not beating me again this time, Page.”

Once the table was set up for another round of pool and you were a few turns in, your gaze couldn’t help but wander back towards the other end of the bar too often to keep track of. Though, soon on one of the fleeting looks, your eyes grew wide as you discovered you weren’t the only one sneaking glances.

Discreetly, you shifted closer to Matthew and leaned in to whisper, “he’s looking over,” however, when he then draped an arm around your frame, you couldn’t help but stiffen up, as you hadn’t thought that far in the plan yet, “what are you–”

“Shh,” Matt hushed your squeak, “just lean into me,” he shifted to stand tall behind you, arms enveloped around your form as he slowly drew you back against his chest, “smile,” his low voice tickled the shell of your ear and caused goosebumps to erupt across your skin, “and don’t look at him.”

Redirecting your vision back towards the game before you, you narrowly managed to catch sight of the silent slut-shaming the other lawyer flashed his friend with but a glance, before he went back to the mischievous mission he was on.

“Foggy, would you quit it?” Karen grumbled at the man beside her as he wildly waved both of his hands in her periphery, successfully knocking off her concentration as she tried to line up her shot.

“No way,” he kept up his flapping, even causing Karen’s golden locks to get picked up by the breeze he produced.

“You’re cheating.”

“Nope, I am not touching you nor the table,” he stated as if he was in court, “distracting you doesn’t break any rules.”

And as she finally made her attempt, the ball didn’t go in, causing her to explode in a roar, “damn it, Fog!”

“Ha, ha, yes!” he jumped as she straightened back up, “you know, I taste something right now, what could that be? Oh yeah, victory. And it tastes sweet as candy store.”

“Urgh,” Karen rolled her eyes at him before her glare landed upon the both of you, “Matt, your turn. Would you please set him in his place?”

“Gladly,” Matt chuckled, and as he shifted closer to the pool table, he nudged your side and asked, “hey, would you give me a hand?”

Swallowing a chuckle as you already knew he very much didn’t need it, you cocked an eyebrow, “you want my help?”

“Yeah,” he uttered clearly and let his real message seep through his tone, guiding your gaze to flicker back toward Henry, who’s stare was still locked upon you both, “so come help me.”

“Oh!” it finally clicked in your brain, “right,” and you swiftly slid in beside him.

With bated breath, you grabbed Matt’s hand that wasn’t clutching the pole, and guided it over the ivory ball that rested close to one of the corners. As you began to map out and tell him where each of the other spheres were, your eyes flicked over to notice just how close you now stood, as your nose nearly grazed against his stubbly cheek as you murmured guidingly. When you retracted your touch, you barely noticed how a few of Matt’s fingers reacted, faintly following your fading palm for but a second before it floated back down to the white orb below it.

Once he’d made his shot, you lingered in the proximity and whispered, “do you think they’re buying it?”

“Hm?”

“This,” your eyes momentarily flickered back towards your ex across the bar, “us.”

Matthew’s brows then floated up as you reeled him back in to the matter at hand, “oh, I–, probably.”

“Or should we do something else?” your mind kept on spinning, “I don’t know, I feel like I’ve completely forgotten how all of that works,” you shared, “kinda just numbed and cut off that part of myself after he broke my heart, it was just how I had to get through it, shut down a little bit because suddenly romance was terrifying…”

“...can I ask you something?” he asked quietly after a breath, and when you offered him a hum in confirmation, he uttered, “are you still in love with him?”

Time stretched out before you finally replied, “I was, for a very long time…” your voice stayed small, “…but no, not anymore… I kind of thought I was, but then seeing him again cleared it all up. All I feel when I look at him now is rage,” you exhaled, “and pity, just because I know him too well, know everything that’s messed up about him…” silence encumbered you both for a moment before you then opened your mouth once more and said, “so, should we hold hands or something?” you asked plainly, though when a genuine laugh then began to billow out of Matthew, your eyes blinked up at him as your brows swiftly knit together, “what?”

“You know,” he tried to snuff out his chuckle, “if I was actually your fiancé, I wouldn’t just stand around and hold your hand all night,” he then leaned in the short distance till his lips nearly tickled the shell of your ear, “I would have dragged you into the bathroom by now and forced the whole bar to hear us fuck.”

“I–, u-uhm,” you flusteredly stammered as your face began to heat up, “y-yeah, yeah, that’s good too,” you barely registered your own words as they slipped out past your lips, “if that’s what you wanna do–, I mean! Shut up!” you squeezed your eyes shut as soon as you regained your own senses, “just hold my hand, you dick,” you cursed over his laughter as he swiftly slipped his palm into your own.

“Cut it out, Karen,” Foggy’s voice cut through your haze and caught your attention.

Glancing over, you spotted as Karen was giving him some of his own medicine, pettily leaning into his eye line, “what? You were the one saying that distractions weren’t against the rules,” she continued to glare in hopes of throwing him off his game, “why? Is this not working? Do you need me to scream directly in your ear instead?”

“Oh, would you?” he sarcastically looked to her, his pitch climbing up high at his words, “going deaf in one ear is exactly what I need to beat you.”

As your wandering gaze then flickered back towards the opposite end of the bar, your eyes grew wide as you spotted only Rebecca still seated at the small table, pink cocktail in her grasp.

“Shit,” you spotted Henry as he crossed the room, confidently walking precisely in your direction, “he’s coming over,” you hissed, and in your muppet-like panic, your hands clasped each side of Matt’s face and yanked him in for a kiss.

At first, he froze up as you continued to freak out, but then, as his broad palms slowly slid over your waist, all of your alarm began to melt away. It felt as if you were drifting off to sleep as you relaxed into the kiss. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that kissing Matt would feel like this, not that such a fantasy was something you pondered often or even at all, but as you felt his tongue flicker out to dance softly against your own, your knees beneath you wobbled as you lost yourself completely. How long the peck drew out remained a mystery, as when you eventually parted, the reasoning behind it wouldn’t emerge in your memory no matter how hard you tried.

Though as you stood there, blinking back at Matt, still utterly spellbound by the unexpected feelings currently bubbling and bursting inside of you, the man now standing off to the side cleared his throat and brought you back down to earth.

“Bunny–, I mean, Y/n,” you whipped your head around to catch sight of your ex, “just thought it would have been awkward if I didn’t come over here to introduce myself before me and Becca took off,” he muttered before his gaze fell to Matt, his arms slowly fading from your form, “I'm Henry, nice to meet you,” your ex then offered his hand, though the lawyer by your side didn’t grasp it, even if his heightened senses had lent him to pick up on the gesture.

“Matt Murdock,” he uttered on a cold exhale.

Stuffing his rejected palm into his pocket, Henry then asked, “what do you do?”

“Matthew’s a lawyer,” you took over, slotting yourself into Matt’s side before you dramatically clasped a hand over his chest, “saves people for a living. That’s actually why we’re out celebrating tonight, he just won yet another case.”

“Oh, well congratulations then,” Henry offered in well-forged petty politeness.

“Yeah, I was there, watching him do his thing,” you uttered as some bitter goblin of resentment then took over your soul and caused you to say, “and oh boy, I tell you, if only it would have been socially acceptable for me to interrupt the trial just to rip his clothes off, because wow.”

A scoff then rippled in Henry’s chest, “okay, sure,” his stare upon you narrowed as he then grumbled, “we both know you’re not exactly the groupie type of girlfriend.”

“Well, maybe your sorry ass was never worth her supporting you in that way,” Matt suddenly cut in, “maybe because you never bothered treated her that way in return,” his guess hit the bullseye, “and maybe that has a little something to do with why I was the one to put a ring on her finger and not you,” your heart thumped in your chest as Matt’s touch returned to the small of your back, protectively sliding over your waist as he continued to speak in a low and chillingly stern tone, “that or you really are as terrible of a lay as she told me you were, during those very first nights when she finally learned what it was like to be with someone who wasn’t a complete fucking idiot.”

Utterly stunned, you watched Henry’s expression as he scrambled his brain for a way to crawl back from that, but eventually, when no suitable words came to his pea-sized brain, his feet slowly began to shuffle back till his hand had snatched up his fiancé’s and he’d yanked her with him out of the bar.

As the door swung closed behind the pair, a celebratory squeal burst from your lungs, “oh my god! Matt, that was incredible!” you jumped in place before throwing your arms around him, “I don’t know how to thank you.”

Tangling his own arms around you, he uttered, “I’m sure we’ll come up with some way you can make it up to me.”

And as you withdrew, just enough to smile back at him, your gaze began to drift back down towards his lip just before Foggy’s voice cut through the palpable tension.

“Do I need to remind you guys that you’re not actually engaged?”

“No,” Matt then murmured as the two of you parted ways, quietly enough for his words to be completely inaudible, “but we could be...”

“What?” you glanced over at him.

“What?” he echoed in return, though a bit too quickly.

“Did you say something?”

“Me? No,” he tried to conceal his lie with a cough, “I-I, uh, think it’s your turn,” he then changed the subject, gesturing to the pool table behind you.

#lea’s writing #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock imagine #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #matthew murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #matt murdock hurt/comfort #matt murdock fic #daredevil fanfiction

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mcrdvcks · 2 months ago

Text

— it's brutal out here

chapter summary: Peter's class is going on a field trip to Stark Industries. The catch? No one believes he's an intern at SI and no one knows he's dating Tony Stark's daughter—other than Ned and MJ. Surely nothing will go wrong, right? word count: 14.7k+ pairing: Peter Parker (MCU) x fem!stark!reader notes: i've said it before, peter parker goes on field trip to SI is one of my favorite tropes ever. but what else is? reader being tony stark's daughter and dating peter. so i thought i'd combine both for the ultimate self-service. it's my first time writing for peter, so feedback is appreciated. enjoy! <3 warnings/tags: avengers are a happy family because i say so (includes bucky!), fluff, peter parker goes on a field trip to stark industries, tony is your biological dad, pranks, slight bullying, reader is a genius (she's a stark after all)

“Alright, before the bell rings I have something important to say!” Mr. Harrington announced, stopping most of the students from packing up.

“I swear, if it’s another—” Peter mumbled before Ned cut in.

“Dude, what if it’s a parental consent form for a movie? Or an experiment? Or—”

"—Or it's just Harrington being overdramatic. Again," MJ added in dryly, not looking away from her book.

Peter snorted softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Mr. Harrington cleared his throat dramatically again, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he lifted a stack of papers from his desk. "We will be taking a field trip next week, and it's not just any field trip."

"Oh no," MJ deadpanned, flipping another page of her book, "his voice cracked. That means it's big."

Peter chuckled quietly, looking at Ned with an amused smirk. "Ten bucks it's another 'groundbreaking' planetarium exhibit."

Ned shook his head quickly, grinning. "I'm holding out for something good this time, man."

Mr. Harrington began passing out the papers excitedly. "Next Friday, this class will be touring none other than Stark Industries!"

The room erupted in surprised chatter, excited whispers filling every corner.

Peter froze, eyes wide. "Wait—what?"

Ned's mouth fell open, equally shocked. "No freaking way!"

MJ lifted her gaze from the page for the first time, eyebrows raised as she leaned slightly toward Peter. "I take it back. This actually is big."

"Not again," Peter muttered anxiously, voice strained. "The tower? Seriously?"

"What's the problem, Pete?" Flash's voice rang out smugly from across the room. "Afraid they'll realize you're not actually an intern?"

Peter frowned, shooting Flash a glare. "I am an intern. I've been telling you guys this for literally two years."

Flash scoffed loudly. "Yeah, sure, Parker. And I'm Thor's favorite chess partner."

"Dude," Ned whispered urgently, "this means the whole class is gonna see you with—"

Peter nodded nervously, his voice hushed. "—Y/N. They're going to see me with Y/N."

MJ leaned in slightly, giving Peter a knowing look. "You're worried they'll find out you're dating Tony Stark's daughter?"

Peter's cheeks flushed pink. "I'm not worried, I just... it's gonna be weird."

"You've literally fought aliens, and you're worried about your classmates finding out you have a girlfriend?" MJ remarked flatly.

"It's not just any girlfriend!" Ned argued, waving his hands excitedly, "It's Y/N freaking Stark, MJ! The Y/N Stark!"

MJ rolled her eyes slightly, suppressing a smile as she glanced back at Peter. "So what, you two just gonna pretend you don't know each other?"

Peter hesitated, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I... haven't exactly figured that out yet."

Across the room, Flash continued loudly boasting, "Maybe I'll even get to talk with Tony Stark himself. I've got some great ideas I wanna pitch him."

"Oh, yeah, great," Peter mumbled under his breath sarcastically, "that'll go well."

Mr. Harrington clapped his hands to regain everyone's attention. "Make sure you have these permission slips signed and returned by tomorrow. This is a rare and exciting opportunity, people!"

Peter slumped slightly in his seat, sighing heavily as Ned gave him a reassuring pat on the back.

"Relax, man," Ned said confidently. "It's gonna be fine."

MJ shrugged, eyes back on her book. "Or it'll be an entertaining disaster. Either way, I'm looking forward to it."

"Gee, thanks," Peter muttered, giving MJ a pointed look.

She simply smirked without looking up. "Anytime."

Peter stared down at the permission slip in front of him, anxiety swirling through his chest. Next Friday was going to be interesting, to say the least.

---

“—but, there was always… Y/N? Hey. Hey!” Steve snapped his fingers as you slowly looked up.

"Huh? Sorry, I fell asleep to your boring recollection of the battle of… whatever," you said, leaning back in your chair dramatically with a loud yawn.

Steve crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow as he stared at you. "Y/N, we've literally been covering World War II for months. It's the battle of Normandy."

"Oh, right." You sat up again, blinking sleepily at him. "You know, Steve, when Dad said you'd be teaching me history, I figured we'd cover a little more than just your glory days."

Bucky snorted from his spot on the couch, not even bothering to hide his grin. "See, Steve? Told you even your own niece would get tired of hearing your stories eventually."

Steve shot Bucky an annoyed look. "Not helping, Buck."

You laughed lightly, swiveling your chair toward Bucky. "Honestly, Barnes, your lessons are more interesting. At least when you teach, I get to hear the real stories, not the G-rated, Captain America-approved versions."

Bucky smirked proudly, leaning back comfortably. "That's because I tell you all the gritty details your dad specifically said you shouldn’t hear."

Steve sighed heavily, shaking his head. "You're both impossible."

"And yet," you shrugged innocently, reaching for your phone on the desk, "you still insist on teaching me."

"Because," Steve began firmly, taking a step forward and pointing toward your textbook, "you still need to actually learn this stuff."

Bucky chuckled softly. "Yeah, kiddo, just pretend to pay attention for a couple hours so Steve doesn’t cry himself to sleep tonight."

You bit back a smile, dramatically nodding at Steve. "Alright, alright. Battle of Normandy, June 1944. Got it. Continue, Uncle Steve."

Steve narrowed his eyes suspiciously at you, slowly returning to his spot by the whiteboard. "Right. So as I was saying—"

Your phone buzzed suddenly, and your attention immediately snapped down to it. Peter’s name lit up your screen, making your heart flutter as you quickly picked it up.

"Hold that thought, Steve," you said distractedly, swiping open the message.

Steve paused, arms crossed again with an exasperated sigh. "You're texting Peter again, aren’t you?"

You gave him a guilty smile, fingers flying rapidly over your screen. "Sorry, but it's important."

Bucky raised an eyebrow curiously, leaning toward you. "What's got Parker worked up this time?"

You bit your lip, chuckling softly as you finished your reply. "Apparently, his class is taking a field trip to Stark Industries next week."

Bucky laughed, leaning further forward. "Oh boy, Pete must be freaking out."

"He absolutely is," you confirmed, still texting quickly. "He's worried everyone will figure out we're dating. And, you know, that he's actually an intern there."

Steve looked thoughtful. "Peter's classmates still don't believe him?"

"Nope," you shook your head, grinning slightly. "They all think he's making it up."

Bucky chuckled again. "Poor kid."

Steve tilted his head curiously. "What’s the plan, then? Are you two just going to ignore each other?"

You sighed, setting your phone back down on the desk as you looked at Steve seriously. "Honestly? I have no idea. Peter’s a little nervous."

Bucky gave you a playful smirk. "Well, it's about time the kid stepped up. I mean, he's Spider-Man, he can handle a few high school kids."

Steve nodded in agreement. "Buck's right. Peter’s faced much worse. A field trip can't be that scary."

You smiled slightly, glancing back down at your phone as Peter's next text popped up. "You'd be surprised."

Bucky leaned back again, smirking knowingly. "You’re both being way too dramatic. I say just act normal. Who cares if people find out? You've been dating for a year."

"That's what MJ said," you replied thoughtfully. "Maybe I should just show up and embarrass him."

Steve chuckled softly, shaking his head. "That's your father's influence talking."

You flashed a grin, leaning forward eagerly. "Speaking of Dad—"

"Nope," Steve interrupted quickly, pointing at the textbook. "Lesson first, gossip later."

You groaned dramatically, slumping back again. "Fine."

Steve turned back toward the whiteboard again, writing quickly as he resumed. "Alright, moving on. Now, the invasion began in the early hours—"

"Wait!" you suddenly interrupted, lifting your hand in the air.

Steve turned back again, eyes narrowed. "What now?"

You smiled sweetly, fluttering your lashes playfully. "Can I bring Peter lunch when his class comes next Friday? Like, surprise him?"

Bucky nodded approvingly, clearly entertained by the idea. "I think that's an excellent plan."

Steve gave you both a stern look, though you could see amusement hiding behind his eyes. "That's something you should ask your mom or dad."

You pouted dramatically. "But you're my favorite uncle, Steve."

"Hey!" Bucky protested loudly, placing a hand over his heart with mock hurt. "I thought I was your favorite uncle!"

Steve chuckled, crossing his arms. "Nice try, Y/N, but I'm still not falling for it."

You grinned cheekily, shrugging your shoulders lightly. "Worth a shot."

Bucky smirked, giving you an amused nod. "I'll talk to your dad for you. I'm always up for helping embarrass the kid."

You beamed at him. "I knew you were my favorite."

Steve groaned quietly, shaking his head again. "Alright, enough distractions. Back to Normandy."

You sighed dramatically again, leaning your chin on your palm with a small smile. "Alright, Uncle Steve. Back to Normandy."

Bucky chuckled, giving Steve a playful smirk. "Better make this interesting, pal, or else she's definitely texting Parker again."

Steve rolled his eyes, finally giving up and laughing softly. "You two are going to be the death of me."

You smiled innocently, eyes sparkling with amusement. "We know. But you still love us anyway."

Steve smiled softly, his voice warm as he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I suppose I do."

---

"Uncle Bruce? Have I ever told you that you're my favorite teacher?" you asked sweetly, giving him your most convincing smile as you leaned eagerly across the lab table.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, his glasses sliding down his nose as he peered skeptically over them. "Ah, yes, Y/N. I believe you mentioned that just last week when you wanted help avoiding Steve's history lesson."

You laughed softly, shrugging innocently. "Well, this time I really, really mean it."

Bruce chuckled, shaking his head lightly as he placed down the tablet he'd been holding. "Alright, what's going on?"

You sighed dramatically, propping your chin in your palm. "Peter's class is coming here next Friday for a field trip."

Bruce looked thoughtful, nodding slowly. "Ah, that's right. Tony mentioned something about that."

You perked up immediately, sitting straighter. "Dad talked about it?"

"Well, mostly just to warn everyone," Bruce said with an amused smile, taking a seat across from you. "Something about trying not to embarrass Peter too much."

You groaned, dropping your head onto your folded arms. "Ugh, I know! He keeps saying we should just act normal, but—"

Bruce tilted his head curiously, smiling warmly. "But you're worried about embarrassing him?"

"Or maybe myself," you admitted sheepishly, peeking up at Bruce through your fingers. "I don't know. The whole class will be here, and they don't even believe Peter actually interns here. Let alone that we're dating."

Bruce chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair comfortably. "Teenagers can be brutal, huh?"

“Exactly!” You agreed. “Uh, wait, actually I don’t know. The only experience I have is Peter telling me about classes and Mean Girls. Do girls really make Burn Books?”

Bruce chuckled, shaking his head lightly. "I think that's more Hollywood drama than reality, Y/N. At least, I hope so."

You sat up a little straighter, eyes wide with genuine curiosity. "See, that's exactly why I'm worried! I'm totally clueless about how high school works outside of movie clichés and Peter's crazy stories."

Bruce gave you a reassuring smile. "You’re smart, Y/N. I'm sure you'll navigate it just fine. Plus, you've got Peter. He's probably more nervous than you are."

You sighed dramatically, sinking down slightly in your seat. "Yeah, he's pretty worried. I keep telling him it'll be fine, but deep down, I'm just as nervous."

Bruce tilted his head thoughtfully. "Why don't you just be yourself? Your relationship with Peter isn't a secret among the Avengers. You've got nothing to hide."

"But it's different," you argued, fiddling nervously with a pen on the table. "I mean, it's one thing for the team to know. But an entire class of high schoolers? That’s scary."

Bruce chuckled softly, adjusting his glasses again. "Trust me, most of them will probably be too busy being star-struck by Stark Industries to notice much else."

You gave a half-smile, eyes flicking up to meet Bruce’s. "You really think so?"

He nodded reassuringly. "Absolutely. Teenagers aren’t all that complicated—most of them are too wrapped up in their own worlds to pay close attention."

You exhaled softly, leaning back with a little more ease. "I guess you're right."

Bruce smiled warmly. "Of course I am."

You smiled sheepishly, biting your lip in thought before glancing up again. "Do you think it’d be weird if I just... showed up? You know, say hi, maybe give Peter lunch, see how he’s doing?"

Bruce grinned knowingly, leaning forward slightly with amusement in his eyes. "I think that sounds very sweet. Peter would appreciate it, even if he’s embarrassed at first."

You laughed lightly, your face brightening with relief. "Yeah, well, a little embarrassment never killed anyone, right?"

Bruce chuckled again, shaking his head. "Definitely not. And, frankly, you might actually enjoy it."

You smirked mischievously. "Maybe just a little."

He leaned back again, crossing his arms over his chest comfortably. "Just be prepared for some teasing from Tony afterward."

You groaned playfully, rolling your eyes dramatically. "Ugh, Dad's already been dropping hints. Like, ‘don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’ Which isn't comforting at all, considering it's Dad."

Bruce laughed, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I think Tony’s probably the worst person to go to for dating advice."

"Tell me about it," you muttered dryly, smiling fondly. "Mom tried to give him a crash course on subtlety the other day. It went about as well as you'd expect."

Bruce grinned warmly. "Your mom is a saint for even trying."

You chuckled, nodding enthusiastically. "I know, right?"

Bruce paused thoughtfully, giving you a gentle look. "Seriously, Y/N, don't overthink it. Peter cares about you. His classmates might be surprised at first, but they'll get used to it quickly. Trust your instincts."

Your smile softened, comforted by his sincerity. "Thanks, Uncle Bruce. I needed to hear that."

He smiled back softly. "Anytime. Now, do you still want to help me with these calculations or are you too busy plotting your field trip takeover?"

You laughed, rolling your eyes slightly. "I think I've done enough plotting for one day."

Bruce chuckled warmly, pushing the tablet toward you gently. "Alright then. Let's get back to work."

You nodded eagerly, reaching for the tablet with newfound confidence. "Right. Work first, world domination later."

Bruce grinned playfully, shaking his head. "You've definitely spent way too much time around your father."

You smirked mischievously, eyes sparkling. "Guilty as charged."

He sighed in mock despair, though his eyes shone with affection. "The world isn't ready for two Stark geniuses."

"Probably not," you replied with a dramatic sigh, then flashed a bright smile. "But that's their problem."

Bruce laughed heartily, pushing his glasses back up his nose again. "Yeah, it definitely is."

You smiled warmly, picking up your stylus and focusing back on the calculations. Bruce was right, after all—you had Peter, and you knew that was what really mattered.

---

During lunch, you sat in the common kitchen eating a sandwich. Your phone was propped up against your water bottle as you pretended to watch it while in reality, it was filming.

You had set up a prank in your head while Steve went on about whatever battle he was talking about, and while making lunch, you put your idea into action. Now, you just had to wait for Sam and Clint to get back from going over the training room schedules.

A few minutes later, you heard familiar footsteps and quickly sat up straighter, looking innocent as you pretended to watch your phone. Sam and Clint walked into the kitchen, mid-conversation.

"All I'm sayin' is, why do you get first dibs on Wednesdays?" Clint complained, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. "Maybe I like to train mid-week too."

Sam raised an eyebrow at Clint as he opened the pantry. "Because, Barton, last time I gave you Wednesday, you used your slot to watch reruns of 'Golden Girls.'"

"Hey," Clint pointed defensively, "those ladies are legends, and you know it."

You bit your lip to suppress a giggle, silently pressing record on your phone. "Sounds intense, guys," you teased, making sure you sounded nonchalant.

Clint looked over at you, shaking his head with a grin. "You have no idea, kid."

Sam smiled at you warmly as he grabbed some chips. "How was your lesson with Steve?"

You sighed dramatically, rolling your eyes. "He spent two hours telling me about the Battle of Normandy. Again."

Clint groaned sympathetically. "Oof, you okay? Need medical assistance?"

You laughed lightly, waving your sandwich at him. "I survived, thanks. Barely."

Sam chuckled softly, shaking his head as he started to walk towards the cabinet to grab a bowl. You held your breath, waiting eagerly for what would happen next.

Right on cue, the cabinet doors flew open, and a burst of confetti exploded outward, showering Sam and Clint in bright, glittery colors.

Sam jumped back with a yelp, dropping the bag of chips. "What the hell—"

Clint let out a high-pitched, startled squeak, nearly tripping over his own feet as he stumbled away from the sparkling confetti shower. "Holy—"

You burst out laughing, unable to hold it back anymore, tears forming at the corners of your eyes as you captured their shocked, glitter-covered expressions on camera. "Oh my god, your faces!"

Sam turned slowly, still blinking confetti out of his eyes. He shook his head, pointing at you accusingly. "You are evil, Y/N Stark."

Clint brushed glitter from his hair, eyes wide in disbelief. "Seriously, kid? Glitter?"

You shrugged innocently, giggling uncontrollably. "Well, technically it's biodegradable confetti, but yeah."

"I don't even wanna know how you pulled that off," Sam muttered, shaking confetti off his shoulders with an annoyed expression. "Did Tony help you with this?"

You grinned mischievously. "Nope. All me. Consider it payback for your air horn prank last week."

Sam groaned dramatically, looking up at the ceiling. "Oh, c'mon, that wasn't even my best work!"

Clint was still laughing softly, brushing sparkles from his sleeve. "She got you good, Wilson."

Sam scoffed, pointing at Clint's glitter-covered shirt. "You don't exactly look untouched yourself, Barton."

You giggled again, ending your recording as you spun around happily in your seat. "This footage is gonna look amazing at the next family movie night."

Clint narrowed his eyes playfully at you. "You're lucky we love you, kid."

"Seriously," Sam agreed, finally breaking into a smile. "I oughta put glitter in your training gear."

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your heart. "Sam, you wouldn't."

Clint grinned evilly, leaning over and whispering conspiratorially, "Don't give him ideas, kid."

You smirked playfully, standing up and putting your plate in the sink. "I'll be ready. Bring it on."

Sam shook his head, chuckling softly as he grabbed another bowl, cautiously opening another cabinet. "At least let me have lunch without another attack."

You held your hands up innocently, giving him your sweetest smile. "I'm out of glitter bombs. For now."

"Why do I not believe you?" Clint asked skeptically, side-eyeing you as he finally sat at the table with his water bottle.

"Because you're smart," you teased, winking at him as you started walking toward the kitchen door. "Better watch your backs!"

---

“Can’t you teach me Latin instead? Latin is cool,” you said to Natasha, leaning your elbows on the kitchen island dramatically. “You promised you would when you pretended to be Dad’s assistant. Or… whatever happened.”

Natasha sighed, rolling her eyes affectionately as she set down her mug of tea. “Y/N, for the last time—I was undercover, not just pretending. And I distinctly remember saying maybe. Besides, you're already learning Russian.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “Da, da, ya znayu. Yes, yes, I know. Russian is fine, but I think Latin would be more fun.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, folding her arms and giving you a skeptical look. “Fun? Y/N, Latin is literally a dead language.”

“Exactly!” You pointed at her excitedly. “Dead languages are cool, Natasha. Think of how impressive it’ll sound when I can insult Clint without him even knowing it.”

Clint turned his head quickly from his spot across the kitchen, eyes narrowed. “Excuse me, Stark Junior?”

You grinned sweetly, fluttering your eyelashes innocently. “Nothing, Uncle Clint. Love you!”

Clint narrowed his eyes suspiciously, slowly returning his attention to his sandwich. “Yeah, sure you do.”

Natasha chuckled softly, shaking her head as she returned her focus to you. “Look, Y/N, as entertaining as it sounds, Russian is actually useful. Latin—not so much.”

“Useful?” You scoffed playfully, leaning back slightly on your stool. “Nat, I already speak fluent Spanish and Chinese. I literally don’t need Russian. Did you know Chinese is gonna be the most spoken language by 2050? So, really, teaching me Latin would at least be interesting.”

Natasha tilted her head, looking mildly impressed despite herself. “You’ve really done your research on this, haven’t you?”

You nodded enthusiastically, smiling confidently. “See? Genius. I rest my case.”

Bruce chuckled softly from across the room, glancing up from his own notes. “She’s got you there, Natasha. You might want to reconsider.”

Natasha shot Bruce an amused glare before sighing softly, shoulders slumping slightly in resignation. “You really won’t let this go, will you?”

“Absolutely not,” you replied immediately, beaming brightly.

She shook her head again, giving you a reluctant smile. “Fine. How about this? You ace your Russian exam next week, and I’ll teach you some Latin. Deal?”

You perked up immediately, eyes sparkling. “Deal! Wait—exam? Since when do we have exams?”

Natasha smirked knowingly, sipping her tea calmly. “Since right now.”

You groaned loudly, slumping forward dramatically. “Ugh, betrayal.”

She laughed lightly, reaching over and ruffling your hair affectionately. “You’ll survive. Now, stop complaining and study. Latin’s waiting for you.”

You grumbled softly under your breath, sitting up straighter and nodding reluctantly. “Fine. But when I ace it, you better be prepared to teach me every Latin insult known to mankind.”

She rolled her eyes, lips quirking up slightly. “I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you,” you smiled brightly again, grabbing your notes dramatically off the counter. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an exam to crush.”

As you hopped off your stool, Clint gave you a teasing grin. “Hey, when you learn all those insults, teach me a few so I can use them on Stark, yeah?”

You smirked mischievously at him, giving a playful wink. “Oh, definitely.”

Bruce chuckled softly again, shaking his head fondly. “I think you two underestimate Tony’s ability to insult in any language.”

Natasha smiled knowingly, eyes glinting with amusement as she watched you head toward the elevator. “He does have an impressive vocabulary.”

Clint sighed dramatically, finishing off his sandwich. “Great. Looks like I’ll have to learn Latin too, just to keep up.”

You grinned from the elevator, waving your notes cheerfully at him. “Don’t worry, Clint! I’ll give you a discount on lessons!”

The elevator doors closed on Clint’s amused laughter and Natasha’s fond shake of her head. You leaned back against the wall, flipping through your Russian notes with renewed determination. The promise of Latin—and a wealth of creative insults—awaited.

---

You were in your lab going over your Russian notes when Peter entered, backpack slung over one shoulder. You looked up from the tablet immediately, giving him a bright smile. "Hey, you made it!"

Peter chuckled softly as he dropped his backpack by the door, coming over to lean against your lab table. "Yeah, finally. Subway was packed, and some guy spilled coffee all over my shoes. So, great afternoon."

You bit your lip sympathetically, glancing down at his slightly stained sneakers. "Aw, Pete. I'll clean them up for you later."

He smiled gratefully, looking down at your notes curiously. "Is this Russian? I thought Natasha already said you're fluent."

"I am," you sighed dramatically, leaning your head back against the chair. "But apparently Nat thinks my Russian still needs work. Something about ‘too much slang’ and ‘not enough proper grammar.’"

Peter laughed lightly, shaking his head. "Well, she's probably right."

"Not helping," you muttered playfully, poking his side with your stylus. "I'm bribing Nat with my language prowess so she'll finally teach me Latin."

"Latin?" Peter asked with surprise, lifting his brows. "Why?"

You gave him a cheeky grin, eyes sparkling mischievously. "So I can insult Clint without him understanding me, obviously."

Peter laughed again, leaning a little closer. "I thought Clint was pretty used to insults by now."

"Yeah," you agreed with a grin, nudging his shoulder gently. "But I bet he doesn't know many in Latin."

Peter smiled warmly at you, his eyes softening as he watched you continue scribbling notes. After a moment, you noticed him staring and tilted your head curiously.

"Everything okay?" you asked softly, reaching out and gently touching his hand.

Peter nodded, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. "Yeah, it's just—I guess I'm still a little nervous about the field trip next Friday."

You softened immediately, putting your notes aside and squeezing his hand reassuringly. "Pete, it's gonna be fine. I promise."

He sighed anxiously, running a hand through his messy curls. "Yeah, I know. It's just weird, you know? Flash was giving me crap again today, and everyone else just thinks I'm lying about my internship."

You frowned slightly, reaching out and tugging Peter gently towards you until he moved around to sit on the stool beside yours. "Well, Flash is an idiot. And honestly? Who cares what everyone thinks? You're amazing, Peter. Let them doubt. Next week, you'll prove them all wrong."

Peter smiled softly, relaxing slightly as he met your reassuring gaze. "Thanks, Y/N. You're the best."

"Obviously," you teased lightly, nudging his arm again with a playful smile. "But, um, speaking of next week—I sort of had an idea."

He lifted a brow, his expression wary but amused. "Should I be scared?"

You laughed, shaking your head quickly. "No, I promise! Nothing embarrassing—well, maybe slightly embarrassing—but in a cute, sweet, romantic kind of way."

Peter chuckled quietly, rolling his eyes with affection. "That doesn't exactly make me feel better."

You grinned sheepishly, leaning closer to him excitedly. "What if I brought you lunch? Like, showed up during your tour, surprised you in front of your class?"

Peter stared at you, eyes wide with mild panic. "Wait, Y/N, I—I mean—"

You bit your lip softly, suddenly nervous. "Unless that's too much. We don't have to. I just thought it'd be nice—"

"No!" Peter quickly interrupted, placing a gentle hand on your arm, voice softening immediately. "No, Y/N. I like the idea. I really do."

You raised your eyebrows skeptically, watching him closely. "Are you sure? You kind of look like you just swallowed a spider."

He made a face at the analogy, chuckling nervously. "It's just—you know, people are gonna freak out. And Flash is definitely gonna say something stupid."

You smirked, eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, I hope he does. Then I can watch him shrivel under the power of my infamous Stark glare."

Peter laughed softly, visibly relaxing now as he shook his head with amusement. "You really have spent too much time around Tony."

You flashed a proud grin. "Can't help it. Stark genes."

He smiled warmly at you, eyes lingering fondly as he squeezed your hand gently. "But seriously, Y/N. I'd love for you to stop by. And screw whatever Flash thinks."

You grinned happily, excitement bubbling up in your chest as you leaned forward, pressing a quick, affectionate kiss to his lips. "It's a date, then."

Peter smiled shyly, cheeks turning bright pink as he squeezed your hand tighter. "Yeah, definitely."

Just then, footsteps echoed in the hallway, and you both turned toward the door as Tony strode in, a pizza box balanced in one hand, and the other covering his eyes.

“I’m giving you 15 seconds to get situated from whatever teenage shenanigans you two were up to. I better not see any clothing articles on the floor—”

"Dad!" you groaned loudly, cheeks immediately flushing. You quickly jumped away from Peter, nearly stumbling off your stool in embarrassment as you hurriedly fixed your hair. "We were literally just talking!"

Peter awkwardly cleared his throat, face equally flushed as he stared down at the floor, nervously scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, hi, Mr. Stark."

Tony finally lowered his hand from his eyes, giving both of you a deeply amused look as he walked further into the lab. "Relax, kiddos. Just making sure. Can't be too careful, what with teenagers being teenagers and all."

"Dad, seriously," you mumbled, trying to fight the burning embarrassment still flooding your cheeks. "I'm pretty sure the last thing on our minds is doing anything weird in my lab. With you literally two rooms down."

Tony smirked slightly, placing the pizza box on the counter beside you. "Hey, I don't judge. Hormones are unpredictable."

"Oh my God," you muttered, covering your face with your hands, hoping the ground might spontaneously open and swallow you whole. "Why are you like this?"

Peter laughed nervously, shifting uncomfortably as he glanced between you and Tony. "Um, sir, we—we were really just talking about the field trip next week."

Tony raised a skeptical eyebrow, glancing sideways at Peter. "Sure, Pete. You don't have to worry about me, though. I trust you. Mostly."

You let out an exaggerated groan, slumping dramatically against the lab table. "Please, Dad. For the love of Thor, stop talking."

Tony chuckled deeply, flipping the pizza box open casually. "Speaking of the field trip," he started, pulling out a slice, "I've been thinking about how we should handle this whole thing."

You sighed softly, finally looking up at him with a wary expression. "Handle it?"

Tony nodded slowly, taking a casual bite of his pizza. "You know, introductions, awkward teenage social dynamics, maybe a strategically embarrassing slideshow detailing Peter's intern duties—"

"Mr. Stark!" Peter interrupted quickly, looking mortified. "Please don't."

You shook your head vigorously, narrowing your eyes firmly at Tony. "Absolutely not. Dad, you promised you'd behave. No embarrassing Peter, remember?"

Tony pouted dramatically, sighing deeply as he looked between the two of you. "You're no fun at all. You know how much prep I've already put into this presentation?"

Peter paled visibly, shifting anxiously on his stool. "Presentation?"

Tony smirked mischievously, leaning forward slightly as he took another bite. "It's titled 'Peter Parker: Spider Intern or Spider Imposter?' Thought it had a nice ring to it."

You groaned again, burying your face in your arms on the lab table. "Peter, I'm so sorry."

Peter chuckled nervously, shaking his head as he glanced over at you. "It's fine. I mean, how bad could it really be?"

Tony grinned widely. "Oh, kid, famous last words."

"Dad," you finally lifted your head again, giving him a pleading look, "can we please just have a normal field trip? Without your involvement? At all?"

Tony raised an eyebrow, looking dramatically offended. "No involvement? I'm hurt, Y/N. This is literally Stark Industries. Emphasis on the Stark."

"Exactly," you pointed out firmly, crossing your arms. "Industries. Not Tony Stark's Personal Embarrassment Tour."

Peter nodded quickly, clearly hopeful you’d convinced him. "Please, Mr. Stark. I promise I'll make sure my classmates behave."

Tony tilted his head thoughtfully, still chewing his pizza. "Hmm. Alright, Parker. I'll consider scaling back my incredible plans. But only because you're looking at me like a kicked puppy."

Peter relaxed visibly, sighing in relief. "Thank you."

You let out your own relieved breath, reaching over to squeeze Peter's hand gently. "You okay?"

He nodded slightly, squeezing your hand back as he gave you a small smile. "Yeah, thanks. Just, you know, mild panic attack."

You chuckled softly, giving him an affectionate look. "I promise, it'll be okay. We can handle Dad."

Tony rolled his eyes dramatically, finishing off his pizza slice. "I'm literally right here."

You grinned cheekily at him, shrugging your shoulders. "We know."

Tony chuckled lightly, shaking his head fondly at you both. "Alright, alright, I get it. I'll behave." He turned his attention back to Peter, pointing a stern finger in his direction. "But you'd better make sure those high school gremlins don't touch anything. Or breathe on anything expensive. Especially Flash."

Peter nodded quickly, looking relieved but still a bit nervous. "Yes, sir."

Tony sighed dramatically again, reaching for another slice of pizza as he shot you both a teasing smirk. "Honestly, I'm pretty sure running an Avengers-level security detail was less stressful than hosting a bunch of teenagers."

You laughed softly, shaking your head at him. "Relax, Dad. It'll be fine."

"Easy for you to say," Tony grumbled playfully, giving you an affectionate smile. "You're not the one dealing with liability paperwork."

Peter smiled slightly, visibly calmer now as he relaxed next to you. "I promise, Mr. Stark, we'll be on our best behavior."

Tony smiled knowingly, pointing at him dramatically. "Good. Because if not, I'm blaming you directly, Parker. And then—"

"Tony," Pepper's amused voice suddenly cut in from the doorway. You all turned to see her leaning against the frame with a fond expression. "Don't threaten Peter. He's nervous enough."

Tony grinned sheepishly, shrugging at his wife with a playful pout. "Hey, someone’s gotta keep the kid on his toes."

Pepper rolled her eyes warmly, walking toward you and Peter with a reassuring smile. "Don't listen to him. You'll both do great next week."

You smiled gratefully at her, relaxing further. "Thanks, Mom."

Pepper gently squeezed your shoulder, giving Peter a comforting look. "It'll be fun, Peter. And don't worry, Tony will behave himself."

Tony scoffed loudly, crossing his arms indignantly. "I'm literally standing right here. You people act like I'm the teenager."

You smirked cheekily, tilting your head. "Well, Dad—"

He quickly held up his hand, shaking his head firmly. "Don’t. Finish. That. Thought."

Pepper laughed lightly, patting Tony's shoulder affectionately. "Come on, Tony. Let's leave the kids alone."

He sighed dramatically, moving to follow her but turned at the doorway to give you both a mock-stern glare. "Door stays open, kids."

"Dad!" you groaned again, flushing furiously as Tony chuckled and finally followed Pepper out, the door staying conspicuously wide open.

You sighed deeply, slumping slightly as you turned to look at Peter. "Sorry again. He's… a lot."

Peter laughed softly, relaxing completely now as he smiled warmly at you. "I’m used to it. Besides, I think your dad's threats of embarrassment kinda prepared me for this stuff."

You grinned gently, leaning toward him again. "So, still excited for Friday?"

He gave you a nervous but sincere smile, nodding slightly. "Yeah. As long as you're there, I'll be fine."

You felt your heart flutter warmly, squeezing his hand again as you leaned in, gently pressing your lips against his again. This time, without any interruption from Tony.

Peter smiled softly against your lips, pulling back slowly and meeting your gaze warmly. "Thanks, Y/N. For everything."

You smiled gently back at him, your eyes full of affection. "Anytime, Pete."

Peter chuckled softly, shaking his head slightly. "Honestly, compared to being Spider-Man, dealing with your dad isn't so bad."

You laughed, giving his hand another gentle squeeze. "I'll remind you that you said that next Friday."

He sighed dramatically, grinning playfully. "Great. Can't wait."

You smiled warmly, knowing that despite Tony’s teasing, next week really was going to be great—because you'd be together, and that was what mattered most.

---

“Did May sign the permission slip? It’s due today!” Ned asked Peter as they walked down the hallway to Mr. Harrington’s class.

“Yeah, barely,” Peter laughed nervously, tugging his backpack higher onto his shoulder. “She got home late from her shift at the hospital, but I practically shoved the pen in her hand this morning.”

Ned chuckled, shaking his head knowingly. “Man, I still can’t believe we’re going to Stark Industries. Like, the actual Stark Industries. You think they’ll show us the Iron Man suits?”

Peter smirked, glancing over at Ned with amusement. “Probably not the real ones. Knowing Mr. Stark, he’ll probably have holographic decoys or something.”

“Oh, totally,” Ned agreed excitedly. “Wait, do you think the Avengers are gonna be there? Y/N did say the team all lives there.”

Peter bit his lip nervously, glancing around to make sure no one overheard them as they walked. “Yeah, I know. And that’s kinda what I’m worried about. Can you imagine how Flash is gonna react if Thor casually strolls by during the tour?”

Ned laughed, clapping Peter’s shoulder reassuringly. “Hey, just let Thor pick Flash up one-handed—that’ll shut him up real quick.”

Peter chuckled despite himself, shaking his head. “Yeah, tempting as that sounds, I promised Y/N we’d all behave.”

“Aw, man,” Ned teased dramatically, pretending to pout. “You guys are no fun at all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter rolled his eyes affectionately, nudging Ned’s shoulder gently. “Just help me make sure MJ doesn’t instigate something. She’s been weirdly excited about this.”

Ned snorted loudly, nodding vigorously. “Dude, MJ told me she’s bringing popcorn to watch the chaos unfold. I think she’s secretly hoping Flash embarrasses himself.”

“Great,” Peter sighed, running a hand anxiously through his curls. “Just what I needed.”

“You’ll be fine, Peter,” Ned reassured gently, lowering his voice slightly. “Besides, you’re literally Spider-Man and dating Tony Stark’s daughter. Honestly, if Flash knew the truth, he’d lose his mind.”

Peter laughed quietly, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah, well, let’s hope he doesn’t find out like that. Flash losing his mind is the last thing I want.”

Ned laughed again, giving Peter another reassuring pat on the back as they approached the classroom. “Relax, dude. It’ll be fine. Besides, Y/N’s coming, right? She’ll probably have your back.”

Peter smiled softly at that, nodding slowly as he walked into Mr. Harrington’s room. “Yeah, she will.”

They found their seats, and MJ looked up from her sketchbook as they joined her. “Morning, losers. Permission slips signed, or are you both gonna have to sit this one out?”

“Very funny,” Ned said dryly, showing her his slip proudly. “Signed, sealed, and delivered.”

MJ smirked, lifting an eyebrow as she glanced at Peter. “And you, Parker?”

Peter waved his permission slip dramatically, giving her a mock-serious look. “Relax, MJ, I’ve got it covered.”

“Good,” she replied casually, returning to her sketching. “Because if you missed this, I was gonna have to record Flash embarrassing himself and send it to you.”

Peter smiled faintly. “How thoughtful.”

“Always,” MJ replied without looking up.

The bell rang, and Mr. Harrington quickly stood, adjusting his glasses and collecting the slips eagerly. “Alright, everyone! Permission slips, hand them in now, please! Stark Industries awaits!”

Peter handed his slip to Mr. Harrington, heart thudding slightly in his chest as he felt reality sinking in again. As Mr. Harrington counted the slips, Flash loudly leaned toward Peter from his seat.

“Better be careful, Parker,” Flash whispered mockingly, a smug grin plastered across his face. “You wouldn’t wanna embarrass yourself in front of Tony Stark by pretending to be his intern, would you?”

Peter sighed deeply, not even bothering to look over. “Thanks, Flash. Really appreciate the advice.”

Flash scoffed arrogantly, crossing his arms as he leaned back. “Just looking out for you, Parker.”

MJ shot Peter an amused, knowing glance, mouthing silently, “Ten bucks says he cries.”

Peter stifled a laugh, relaxing slightly. Maybe Ned was right—Friday wouldn’t be so bad. Especially since he had you.

---

Meanwhile, at the tower, you were currently scribbling equations onto the large whiteboard in your lab, muttering softly to yourself as you worked through a particularly challenging formula.

“You know, most teenagers prefer sleeping in, Y/N,” Rhodey’s voice suddenly teased lightly from the doorway.

You spun around, smiling brightly as you spotted him leaning casually against the frame. “Yeah, but most teenagers aren’t Stark geniuses.”

He chuckled softly, stepping into the lab and glancing at your equations curiously. “Impressive as always. New project?”

“Sort of,” you admitted sheepishly, tapping your marker against your chin thoughtfully. “Peter and I were talking about his web-fluid yesterday, and I think I found a way to improve its tensile strength.”

Rhodey raised an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. “Tony’s gonna be thrilled. Speaking of Peter, how’s he feeling about Friday?”

You sighed softly, leaning your back against the table. “Honestly? He’s nervous. Like, really nervous.”

Rhodey smiled knowingly, tilting his head sympathetically. “Poor kid. High school drama, huh?”

“Exactly,” you replied with a small laugh, shaking your head slightly. “It’s just… it’s frustrating. He’s incredible, you know? But he still worries what people like Flash Thompson think.”

Rhodey nodded understandingly. “Well, Flash Thompson’s an idiot.”

“That’s what I said!” you exclaimed immediately, grinning widely.

Rhodey laughed warmly, squeezing your shoulder gently. “Look, just remind Peter that he’s got nothing to prove. He knows who he is. You know who he is. That’s all that matters.”

You smiled softly at that, feeling warmth spread through your chest. “Thanks, Uncle Rhodey. I’ll make sure to remind him.”

He smiled back warmly, eyes gentle. “You two are good for each other, Y/N. You’ve always balanced each other out.”

You blushed slightly, nodding shyly. “Yeah, we do.”

“Alright,” Rhodey stepped back with an affectionate grin, “I better get to that meeting. Just wanted to check on you.”

You smiled warmly, giving him a grateful look. “Thanks, Uncle Rhodey.”

“Anytime, kiddo,” he replied gently before disappearing back into the hallway.

You turned back toward your equations, mind drifting again toward Peter and Friday. Despite all your reassurances, you knew exactly why he was nervous. Peter had always preferred blending in quietly, and dating Tony Stark’s daughter certainly wasn’t the way to keep a low profile.

But you’d made a promise to yourself—you would be there for him. No matter how awkward, how nervous, or how many snarky comments Flash made. Peter was worth it. Besides, you thought with a soft smile, you could handle a bit of embarrassment. Especially if it meant making sure everyone else knew just how amazing Peter Parker really was.

Smiling gently to yourself, you turned your attention back to your calculations. Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

---

Soon, Friday arrived and the bus to Stark Tower was overwhelmed with chatter and excitement.

"Oh my god, we're literally almost there!" Ned practically bounced in his seat, gripping the seat in front of him excitedly. "I'm actually going to see the lab where Iron Man makes his suits."

MJ rolled her eyes slightly, flipping casually through a book she'd brought along. "Please don't faint when you meet Tony again, Ned."

Ned frowned, looking mildly offended. "I didn't faint last time, MJ. I just got a little… dizzy."

Peter chuckled nervously from beside them, fingers fidgeting anxiously in his lap as his leg bounced rapidly. "Guys, please try not to draw too much attention today? Please?"

MJ lifted her gaze to Peter, arching an eyebrow skeptically. "You're dating the daughter of a billionaire superhero, Parker. I'm pretty sure attention is inevitable."

Peter groaned quietly, sinking slightly lower in his seat. "I was afraid you'd say that."

Flash loudly cleared his throat from across the aisle, leaning over with a smug smirk plastered on his face. "Parker, remind me—do interns at Stark Industries actually get to meet anyone important, or do they just spend the whole time fetching coffee?"

Peter sighed, closing his eyes briefly. "Flash, I've told you a million times—I'm an intern. I work in an actual lab."

Flash snorted dismissively. "Yeah, sure you do. We'll see about that."

"Ignore him," MJ muttered calmly, returning her attention to her book. "He's just jealous because his dad couldn't buy him an internship there."

Ned snickered softly as Flash huffed indignantly, turning away again.

Peter's phone buzzed suddenly, and he quickly glanced down, seeing your name light up his screen. He smiled slightly, quickly opening your message.

You: Hey Pete! Just checking in—are you still alive? Ned didn't faint yet, right?

Peter grinned, quickly typing a reply.

Peter: Barely hanging on. And Ned’s still conscious. For now.

You: Good. Can't wait to see you.

Peter's heart fluttered at that, fingers hesitating over the screen before he sent back his message.

Peter: Me too. Miss you.

"Aw, Peter's blushing," MJ teased flatly, smirking without looking up from her page.

Peter flushed deeper, quickly pocketing his phone and stammering awkwardly. "I—uh—I'm not—"

"It's cute, man," Ned reassured, giving him a gentle nudge. "Besides, you're gonna be fine. Y/N will make sure Flash shuts up."

Peter sighed softly, leaning back against his seat. "Yeah. Hopefully without giving him permanent emotional damage."

MJ shrugged nonchalantly. "Either way, it's a win for me."

Peter chuckled softly, shaking his head as the bus finally pulled up in front of Stark Tower. The entire class erupted in excited chatter, students pressing against windows to get a better look at the imposing glass building.

Mr. Harrington stood from the front of the bus, trying to speak loudly over the chatter. "Alright, class! Remember, this is a rare and special opportunity. So please—please—try to behave yourselves."

Flash scoffed loudly from his seat. "Relax, Mr. Harrington. I'm sure Parker here can use his imaginary connections to keep us in line."

Peter bit his lip, clenching his fists tightly to prevent himself from saying something he'd regret. Thankfully, MJ was quick to respond.

"Hey, Flash," she called dryly. "Maybe Stark Industries will have an opening in the mailroom for you after graduation. Aim high."

The class laughed quietly as Flash’s face turned red with embarrassment. Peter gave MJ a grateful look, smiling slightly.

They filed off the bus and gathered at the entrance, Mr. Harrington attempting to count heads. Peter’s nerves spiked again as he glanced up at the glass doors. He swallowed anxiously, realizing in just moments, the quiet corner of his life he’d worked so hard to keep separate was about to collide spectacularly with his classmates.

"Relax, Peter," Ned murmured reassuringly, patting his shoulder. "You got this."

Peter smiled weakly, nodding slightly. "Thanks, Ned."

MJ looked up from her book again, giving him a tiny smirk. "If all else fails, just have Tony Stark kick Flash out of the building."

Peter laughed softly, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders. "Good idea."

Before he could reply further, the front doors opened, and Peter's heart skipped when he saw Happy Hogan step through.

"Welcome, Midtown," Happy said loudly, in his usual deadpan voice. "My name is Happy Hogan. I'm head of security here at Stark Industries. I'll be taking you to the conference room, and we'll begin the tour shortly."

Flash's eyes widened, whispering excitedly to his friends, "That's Stark's security guy! You know he's gotta know Iron Man personally."

Peter smiled slightly at Happy, trying to catch his eye. Happy's gaze finally landed on Peter, giving him a small, knowing nod.

"Keep up, people," Happy said impatiently, already turning around and leading the class toward the elevators.

Peter felt the butterflies in his stomach grow heavier with every step they took. His breathing quickened slightly, heart pounding anxiously in his chest as he glanced at Ned, whispering nervously, "This is it. Oh god."

Ned squeezed his shoulder again reassuringly, giving Peter an encouraging smile. "You're gonna be fine, Pete. Just breathe."

MJ smirked faintly as she walked beside them, glancing sideways at Peter. "You look like you're about to faint, Parker."

Peter forced himself to chuckle, nodding weakly. "Yeah, no kidding."

Finally, they reached the massive conference room, and Happy gestured inside impatiently. "Sit down and don't touch anything. We will be passing out badges that you will need during the tour. There are different levels for different roles in the company, and badges are never reprinted unless lost. Because apparently I’m the only here who takes security seriou—”

“Ah, son of Hogan!” Thor boomed, standing in the conference room door. “You wouldn’t mind going out and getting more Pop-Tarts, would you?”

Happy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, visibly counting to ten before turning slowly to face Thor. "Thor, we've discussed this. I'm working."

Thor smiled broadly, completely unfazed. "Ah, yes, Son of Hogan, but this is an emergency. You see, I ate all the strawberry ones, and now Banner refuses to share his."

Happy sighed deeply again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Thor, please—just wait until I'm done here."

Thor's eyes drifted curiously to the classroom full of wide-eyed teenagers, offering them an enthusiastic wave. "Greetings, young scholars! Welcome to Stark's domain!"

Flash’s mouth fell open in shock, eyes wide as he grabbed his friend's shoulder. "Dude, it's literally Thor!"

Peter shrank slightly in his seat, cheeks flushing as he fought the overwhelming urge to bury his head in his arms. Ned elbowed him excitedly, whispering, "This is already the best day ever!"

MJ's smirk deepened as she leaned closer, murmuring softly, "At least Flash finally shut up."

Peter chuckled weakly, glancing nervously back at Thor, who had taken it upon himself to stride confidently into the conference room. Happy followed quickly, irritation clear on his face.

"Thor, I swear, if you break something—" Happy muttered sharply.

"Nonsense," Thor boomed cheerfully, placing his hands confidently on his hips as he smiled warmly at the stunned class. "These fine young Midgardians deserve the full Avengers experience."

Happy groaned softly, rolling his eyes upward in defeat.

Flash finally found his voice, practically vibrating in his seat. "Mr. Thor, sir—do you think we could, uh, maybe see your hammer?"

Thor chuckled heartily, shaking his head good-naturedly. "I'm afraid Mjolnir is resting securely, but perhaps another time!"

Mr. Harrington cleared his throat nervously, stepping forward to address Thor with an awkward smile. "Well, thank you for the unexpected introduction, Mr. Thor. We, uh, appreciate the warm welcome."

Thor beamed brightly, clapping a heavy hand onto Mr. Harrington’s shoulder, nearly knocking the teacher off balance. "Of course! I bid you farewell, small ones. Enjoy Stark's sanctuary!"

With a final dramatic wave, Thor exited the conference room, leaving a stunned silence behind.

Happy exhaled deeply, glancing around the room again. "So that's Thor. Please, no more interruptions. As I was saying before our surprise guest—badges. You'll each receive one based on your level of clearance."

He began passing out badges, placing them carefully onto the table as he spoke. "Blue badges grant general access for today. Do not lose these, do not trade them, do not sell them online. Trust me, we'll know."

Flash eagerly grabbed his badge, practically cradling it in awe as he turned to whisper excitedly to his friends. "Guys, this is legit Stark tech!"

MJ rolled her eyes slightly, carefully clipping her badge onto her shirt. "It's literally a laminated card, Flash."

Flash scowled at her, but Ned cut in excitedly before he could reply. "Hey, Peter, your badge is different. Yours is red!"

Peter flushed, awkwardly reaching out to take his badge from Happy, who gave him another subtle, reassuring nod. "Yeah, uh—it's an intern badge. It gives me access to the labs."

Flash's eyes widened again, looking sharply at Peter. "Wait—Parker actually has a legit badge?"

Peter sighed tiredly, clipping the badge onto his hoodie. "Yeah, Flash, that's what I've been trying to tell you."

Flash narrowed his eyes suspiciously, clearly skeptical but momentarily at a loss for words. Ned grinned proudly, nudging Peter excitedly. "Told you they'd freak."

Peter smiled weakly, glancing anxiously toward the doorway as Happy finished handing out badges and returned to the front of the room.

"Alright, people," Happy continued in his deadpan voice, "we have a lot to cover. I'll be taking you through the lower-level labs, public spaces, and exhibits. You'll be staying together and not touching anything unless explicitly instructed."

Mr. Harrington quickly nodded, his eyes wide with mild panic as he gestured toward the class. "Yes, yes—everyone, please listen carefully to Mr. Hogan."

Peter took a slow, steadying breath, trying to quell the anxiety that bubbled within his chest. MJ leaned slightly toward him, murmuring dryly, "Relax, Parker. You've survived alien invasions. You can survive a high school field trip."

Peter let out a shaky laugh, nodding weakly. "Yeah, you're right."

Happy motioned impatiently, waving everyone toward the door again. "Alright, follow me closely. We're heading down to the exhibit hall first."

Peter stood slowly, falling into step beside Ned and MJ. Flash followed closely behind, loudly whispering to anyone who would listen, "I bet we'll get to meet Tony Stark himself."

Peter's pulse quickened nervously at the mention of Tony, stomach twisting anxiously at the thought of just how close his carefully separated worlds were becoming. MJ glanced at him knowingly, giving a subtle smirk.

"You know," she murmured casually, "if Flash annoys Stark enough, maybe he'll ban him from the building."

Peter chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, let's hope so."

They reached the elevators, and Happy quickly keyed in a security code, herding the group inside. "No pushing, please."

The elevator descended smoothly, opening into the exhibit hall. The entire class gasped, excited murmurs filling the air as they took in the massive display cases of Stark tech, holographic screens detailing various inventions, and impressive Avengers suits lining the walls.

Ned’s mouth fell open, eyes wide with awe. "Peter, this is insane!"

Peter smiled faintly, glancing around nervously. "Yeah, it's pretty cool."

Happy cleared his throat impatiently again, gesturing toward the displays. "Feel free to look around. No touching the glass. You break it, you buy it, and trust me—none of you can afford it."

Flash immediately moved toward the nearest Iron Man suit, practically pressing his nose to the glass as he marveled at it.

MJ leaned toward Peter again, speaking quietly. "You know Flash is gonna touch something eventually, right?"

Peter smiled slightly, nodding in resignation. "Yeah, probably."

“Spider-Man has his own display!?” Flash exclaimed, practically rushing toward the exhibit. He pressed his hands against the glass excitedly, ignoring Happy’s warning glare.

"Dude," Ned whispered to Peter, trying and failing to hide his grin, "That's you!"

"Shh!" Peter hissed nervously, glancing around quickly to ensure no one overheard. "Not here, man."

MJ chuckled quietly from beside them, arms crossed as she casually took in the spectacle. "So, this is what a secret identity crisis looks like."

Flash’s voice rang out loudly again, clearly trying to impress his small gathering of friends. "I mean, Spider-Man’s cool and all, but he's no Iron Man."

Peter felt his face flush slightly, resisting the urge to say something back. Ned, noticing his friend’s tense expression, quickly nudged Peter gently.

"Just breathe, dude," Ned whispered reassuringly, eyes sympathetic. "He doesn’t even know who he’s talking to."

Peter sighed softly, smiling weakly at Ned. "Yeah, you're right."

Flash continued his monologue to anyone who would listen, motioning dramatically to the display. "Spider-Man's alright, sure, but he's probably just some random guy who got lucky. Stark Industries just felt bad and threw him a bone."

"Wow," MJ deadpanned softly, eyebrows raised as she looked at Peter pointedly. "Are you gonna tell him how you single-handedly stopped a flying bird guy and an army of drones, or should I?"

Peter bit back a laugh, shaking his head nervously. "No, MJ. Please, no."

Meanwhile, Happy loudly cleared his throat again, clearly irritated. "Hey! Thompson, right? Keep your hands off the glass."

Flash pulled his hands back immediately, looking sheepish but quickly regaining his confidence. "Sorry, sir. Just admiring Spider-Man’s, uh, impressive suit."

Happy raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "I'm sure he'd be thrilled."

The class snickered softly at Flash’s embarrassment, and Ned leaned closer to Peter, whispering excitedly, "Oh man, I wish Y/N were here. She'd totally roast him right now."

Peter chuckled softly, nerves easing slightly at the mention of you. "Yeah, I know. She's definitely better at handling Flash than I am."

MJ smirked faintly, eyes sparkling with amusement. "You mean scarier."

"That too," Peter admitted with a slight laugh, shoulders relaxing a bit more.

Happy guided them further into the exhibit hall, pointing out various pieces of technology as the class followed excitedly behind. Ned eagerly snapped photos with his phone, whispering excited commentary to Peter, who smiled and nodded distractedly, mind clearly elsewhere.

They stopped again in front of a sleek glass display featuring the nanotech suit Tony wore during the battle against Thanos. The entire class gasped softly, and even MJ looked up from her book, clearly impressed.

"This," Happy announced seriously, motioning toward the display, "is Mr. Stark’s most advanced suit to date—fully integrated nanotechnology. It saved his life multiple times."

Flash stepped forward again, looking star-struck. "Is this the actual suit Iron Man wore?"

Happy sighed softly, nodding reluctantly. "Yes. And before you ask, no, you can't touch it."

Flash stepped back quickly, holding his hands up innocently. "Just checking."

"Wow," Ned breathed softly, glancing at Peter excitedly. "Dude, you've literally helped Mr. Stark build stuff like this. That's insane."

Flash overheard Ned's comment, quickly scoffing dismissively. "Oh, come on, Leeds. Stop believing Parker’s ridiculous fantasies. Like Tony Stark would ever let him near something important."

Peter felt his jaw tighten slightly in irritation but forced himself to remain silent, refusing to engage. MJ, however, tilted her head calmly, offering Flash a dry, unimpressed look.

"You're really embarrassing yourself right now," she stated bluntly, returning her attention casually to her book.

Flash opened his mouth to respond, clearly flustered, but Happy quickly interrupted before he could.

"Alright, moving on!" Happy called loudly, gesturing impatiently toward the next exhibit. "We still have a lot to see."

Peter felt a tiny bit of relief as Flash was forced to follow along silently, though his anxiety only grew as they continued deeper into Stark Tower. With every passing moment, they were closer to crossing paths with the Avengers—and, of course, with you.

The group turned the corner, approaching another expansive hall. Happy motioned toward the collection of Captain America’s shields mounted on the walls.

"And here," Happy said flatly, "you'll see the various prototypes and completed designs for Captain America's shield—vibranium alloy, nearly indestructible, and incredibly dangerous when wielded by literally anyone else."

The class laughed softly, admiring the impressive display. MJ glanced casually at Peter, raising an eyebrow with mock seriousness. "Cap's still your favorite Avenger, right?"

Peter chuckled nervously, shrugging slightly. "Uh, I dunno… they're all pretty cool."

Ned rolled his eyes dramatically, nudging Peter again. "Come on, dude. We all know your favorite Avenger."

MJ smirked knowingly. "Y/N doesn't count."

Peter flushed bright red immediately, stammering awkwardly. "I—I mean—she’s not technically an Avenger, so—"

"Uh-huh," MJ replied flatly, returning her focus calmly to the displays.

Flash scoffed softly from behind, overhearing their conversation. "Please. Like Parker even knows Y/N Stark. He probably doesn't even know what she looks like."

Peter's cheeks grew even redder, fists clenching nervously at his sides. Ned quickly placed a reassuring hand on Peter’s shoulder, shaking his head slightly.

"Just ignore him," Ned murmured softly, eyes sympathetic.

MJ rolled her eyes dramatically, glancing back at Peter calmly. "Seriously, Parker, you need better taste in friends."

Peter smiled weakly, trying not to let Flash’s words get under his skin. But as the tour continued, he felt increasingly anxious, dreading the inevitable moment you’d show up and his carefully guarded secret would be spectacularly shattered.

The class moved forward again, following Happy toward another part of the exhibit hall. Ned continued chattering excitedly, pointing out different displays to Peter, who smiled and nodded distractedly, heart racing anxiously in his chest.

As Happy stopped once more in front of a display case showcasing Hawkeye's various trick arrows, Flash loudly cleared his throat again, arms crossed smugly.

"Honestly," Flash announced loudly, addressing the entire class dramatically, "I'm surprised Stark even has this many Hawkeye arrows on display. I mean, he's basically useless compared to literally anyone else."

Peter frowned slightly, jaw tightening again in annoyance. He knew Clint well enough to appreciate just how skilled and important he truly was.

MJ, however, remained unimpressed, tilting her head calmly toward Flash. "You know Hawkeye could probably take you down with a single paperclip, right?"

Flash scoffed arrogantly, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, right. The guy shoots arrows for a living. Big deal."

From just behind Flash, a familiar voice suddenly spoke, casual but amused. "Actually, paperclips are a little boring. Give me some dental floss and a rubber band—now that's interesting."

Flash turned quickly, eyes wide with shock as he realized Clint Barton himself had silently walked up behind him, a mug of coffee in hand and a relaxed, amused smile on his face.

"Oh—um," Flash stammered awkwardly, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as the entire class watched eagerly. "I—I didn’t mean—"

Clint chuckled softly, taking a casual sip of his coffee. "Relax, kid. No offense taken."

MJ smirked faintly, clearly entertained by Flash’s embarrassment. "Nice save, Flash."

Clint turned his gaze casually toward Peter, eyes sparkling knowingly. "Hey, Pete. Good to see you."

Peter flushed immediately, suddenly aware of everyone's eyes on him. He quickly waved nervously, voice slightly strained. "Uh, hey, Clint."

Flash stared wide-eyed, completely speechless now, as Clint simply nodded, clearly entertained. "Enjoy the tour, kids. Try not to break anything."

With that, Clint casually continued down the hallway, leaving stunned silence behind him.

MJ looked pointedly at Flash, raising an amused eyebrow. "Still think he's useless?"

Flash remained silent, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he quickly averted his gaze.

Peter exhaled slowly, heart still pounding anxiously in his chest. He glanced nervously toward the door, knowing that with Clint’s appearance, it was only a matter of time before the others arrived—and before you showed up and inevitably turned his entire world upside down.

And that moment came sooner than expected. As Happy led the class to the end of the exhibit hall, Vision phased through the wall, looking politely inquisitive as he hovered just slightly above the ground. "Ah, Mr. Hogan. I need to know where there’s extra sugar. Y/N asked for tea, and I'm 0.05 grams short."

Happy took another deep, exhausted breath, closing his eyes briefly in annoyance. "Vision, you're literally a supercomputer. Can’t you calculate your way to the pantry?"

Vision tilted his head thoughtfully. "I did, indeed. However, the pantry appears to have been relocated to accommodate Thor’s snack preferences. This requires manual intervention."

From the back of the group, Flash practically squeaked, whispering excitedly to the person beside him, "Holy crap, that’s Vision! Actual Vision!"

MJ glanced sideways at Flash, deadpan as always. "You sure? Might just be some other floating, vibranium-infused android phasing through walls."

Flash glared at her, crossing his arms tightly. "Shut up."

Peter swallowed nervously, feeling Ned elbowing him excitedly in the side. "Dude, this is literally the coolest day of my entire life."

"Yeah," Peter mumbled, feeling anxiety bubble up again at the mention of your name. His heart pounded quicker, wondering if this was the start of your inevitable appearance.

The elevators at the end of the hall opened as Wanda walked out. “Vis, you didn’t need to come all the way down here for sugar. I had found a new bag underneath the sink right when you left.”

“Yes,” Happy said, “thank you, Wanda. And Vision, I doubt Y/N would notice a difference if you were 0.05 grams short.”

Vision tilted his head thoughtfully, completely unfazed by the class of teenagers staring at him. "I suppose. But as she tells me, I make it perfect every time. I'd rather not disappoint her."

Wanda smiled softly, gently placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "Trust me, Vis, Y/N will survive a slightly imperfect cup of tea."

From somewhere behind Peter, Flash whispered excitedly to his friend, voice shaking with awe. "Dude—Scarlet Witch too? This is literally the best day of my entire existence."

MJ glanced sideways, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. "I'm glad witnessing you reach the peak of your existence is just as disappointing as I imagined, Flash."

Ned elbowed Peter again, practically bouncing in place. "This is insane, Pete! Wanda, Vision—who's next? Black Panther? Captain Marvel?"

Peter chuckled nervously, shifting anxiously on his feet. "Let's hope not."

Happy sighed deeply, giving Vision and Wanda a pointed look. "Alright, could you two maybe move this conversation somewhere else? I'm trying to give an educational tour here."

Vision nodded politely, still hovering just slightly above the ground. "Of course, Mr. Hogan. My apologies. We shall return upstairs."

"Thanks," Happy muttered flatly, clearly counting down the seconds until his tour guide duty ended.

Wanda turned her attention curiously to the class, smiling warmly as she noticed Peter. "Oh, Peter! Hi. How's the tour going?"

Peter flushed again immediately, awkwardly waving at her while feeling every single pair of eyes in the room shift to stare at him. "Uh, hi, Wanda. It's going good, thanks."

Flash stared wide-eyed at Peter, visibly baffled. "Wait—Parker knows Wanda Maximoff? What?"

MJ didn't look up from her book, lips quirking slightly. "If you'd listened to literally anything Peter said in the last two years, Flash, this wouldn't be surprising."

Flash opened his mouth to argue, cheeks flushed, but Wanda simply smiled gently, clearly amused by the drama she'd accidentally caused. "Well, I'll let you get back to it. Have fun, everyone."

With a polite nod, Wanda and Vision left quietly, leaving another stunned silence in their wake.

Mr. Harrington took a shaky breath, clearly overwhelmed by the day's surprises. "Well, this is certainly more exciting than I anticipated. Mr. Hogan, should we continue?"

"Please," Happy agreed impatiently, already walking ahead. "Next up is our robotics lab. Follow closely."

As the class began moving again, Flash stepped quickly beside Peter, clearly desperate for answers. "Okay, Parker, what's going on? First Clint Barton, now Wanda Maximoff knows you? How?"

Peter shrugged awkwardly, avoiding eye contact as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, I mean—I told you, I work here. I'm an intern."

Flash shook his head skeptically, narrowing his eyes. "No way. There's gotta be something else."

MJ sighed dryly, clearly losing patience with Flash's stubborn disbelief. "Yeah, Flash, it's almost like Peter has an actual life outside of school. Wild concept, I know."

Flash huffed irritably, quickly walking ahead of them with a muttered, "Whatever."

Ned snickered softly, grinning at Peter triumphantly. "Finally! Flash has no idea what's coming next."

"Yeah," Peter chuckled weakly, heart racing anxiously again as he glanced around nervously, half-expecting you to pop out at any moment. "I'm terrified."

MJ smirked knowingly, nudging him gently. "Relax, Parker. This is honestly the best entertainment I've had in weeks."

They entered the robotics lab, a spacious room filled with advanced machinery, holographic interfaces, and several scientists and engineers quietly working at various stations.

Flash immediately rushed toward a particularly impressive robotic arm on display, eyes wide with awe. "Whoa, check this out! Do you think it's remote-controlled or something?"

Happy shot Flash an annoyed glare. "No. And again, Thompson—don't touch."

Flash quickly withdrew his hands, sheepishly stepping back again.

Peter lingered nervously near the doorway, fingers twitching anxiously at his sides. He glanced around the familiar lab, memories of working alongside you and Tony flooding his mind.

"Peter!" Bruce's cheerful voice suddenly called from across the room, causing Peter to jump slightly. Bruce walked over quickly, smiling warmly as he adjusted his glasses. "Good to see you, kid."

The class immediately quieted again, eyes once more shifting curiously toward Peter.

Peter flushed again, offering Bruce a shy, awkward wave. "Hi, Dr. Banner."

Bruce chuckled lightly, gently squeezing Peter's shoulder reassuringly. "You nervous?"

Peter forced a small laugh, scratching his neck nervously. "A little."

Flash stared open-mouthed, clearly unable to process yet another Avenger casually acknowledging Peter's existence. "This is not happening."

MJ smirked faintly, casually flipping another page in her book. "Honestly, Flash, your denial at this point is almost impressive."

Bruce glanced curiously at Flash, tilting his head slightly. "Is everything alright?"

Ned eagerly jumped in before Flash could respond, grinning broadly. "Flash just can't handle the fact that Peter actually interns here. He's been convinced Peter's lying for two years."

Bruce raised his eyebrows, clearly amused as he glanced back at Peter. "Really? Two whole years, huh? That's dedication."

Peter smiled weakly, shrugging again. "Yeah, it's been… interesting."

Bruce chuckled again, patting Peter reassuringly on the shoulder. "Well, don't let them get to you. You're brilliant, Peter."

"Thanks, Dr. Banner," Peter murmured shyly, cheeks pink again.

Flash stood completely silent, glaring at the floor in embarrassed frustration. Ned and MJ exchanged amused looks, clearly enjoying the drama unfolding.

Bruce smiled warmly again before giving Happy a quick nod. "Alright, I'll let you guys get back to the tour. Enjoy yourselves."

As Bruce returned to his workstation, Mr. Harrington cleared his throat nervously, trying to regain control. "Thank you, Dr. Banner. Class, shall we keep moving?"

Flash walked ahead quietly, clearly still stewing in confusion and embarrassment. MJ smirked triumphantly, looking pointedly at Peter. "See, Parker? Told you today would be entertaining."

Peter chuckled softly, still anxious but slightly less tense now. "Yeah, you're definitely right about that."

---

Lunch finally rolled around as the group was led to the mess hall, which was filled with at least a dozen small restaurants and cafes. The students murmured excitedly, marveling at the sprawling array of choices.

"No way," Ned breathed in awe, looking around eagerly. "They literally have everything. Pizza, sushi, burgers… is that a taco stand?"

Peter chuckled softly, his nerves easing slightly as he watched his friend practically vibrate with excitement. "Yeah, Mr. Stark doesn't really do subtle."

MJ raised an amused eyebrow, smirking faintly. "Gee, I couldn't tell. It's not like we've spent all morning touring through his personal Disneyland."

Flash scowled slightly from across the table, clearly still irritated by the earlier embarrassment. He crossed his arms defensively. "Big deal. My dad's company cafeteria has pretty much all the same stuff."

MJ tilted her head calmly, unimpressed. "Yeah, but I'm guessing your dad's cafeteria isn't visited by literal superheroes."

Ned snorted quietly, quickly covering his mouth as Flash's face reddened again with annoyance.

Peter shifted anxiously in his seat, scanning the room carefully. He could feel the familiar flutter of nerves again, anticipation building in his chest. He knew you'd be coming by—he just wasn't sure when.

"Dude," Ned whispered, leaning toward Peter eagerly, eyes darting around the bustling space. "Where's Y/N? She said she was bringing you lunch, right?"

"Yeah," Peter admitted quietly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Maybe she's running late. Or forgot."

MJ rolled her eyes, clearly unbothered as she calmly continued sketching in her notebook. "Parker, you're literally dating the human equivalent of a supercomputer. She didn't forget."

Peter flushed faintly, smiling shyly. "Yeah, you're right."

From nearby, Flash turned sharply, overhearing the tail-end of the conversation. He leaned toward them, voice thick with disbelief and mockery. "Wait, hold up. Did you just imply Parker's dating Y/N Stark?"

Peter swallowed nervously, looking away quickly. "Uh—"

MJ calmly met Flash's skeptical glare. "Do you need a dictionary to understand basic English, Thompson? I thought it was clear."

Flash scoffed loudly, folding his arms with an arrogant smirk. "That's hilarious, even for Parker. There's no way Stark's daughter would look twice at him."

Peter clenched his fists tightly beneath the table, irritation flickering in his eyes. Before he could reply, a familiar voice rang out clearly across the crowded mess hall.

"Peter!" your voice called happily from near the doors. Peter's head snapped up quickly, and he felt his heart skip anxiously as you stepped through the busy cafeteria, smiling brightly and holding two bags in your hands. "Sorry I'm late! Dad wouldn't stop talking about something I was working on, and—"

Your voice trailed off when you noticed everyone staring at you, a hush of surprised whispers quickly spreading through the crowd. You hesitated slightly, your cheeks burning as you realized the entire Midtown High class was openly gaping at you—Flash included.

Peter swallowed nervously, heart hammering in his chest as he slowly stood up, forcing a shy, awkward smile as he walked toward you. "Hey, Y/N."

Your eyes softened immediately at the sight of him, relaxing visibly as your lips curved into a gentle smile. "Hey, Pete."

Flash stared open-mouthed, frozen in shock, his voice coming out as a stunned squeak. "No freaking way."

You glanced sideways at Flash, arching an unimpressed eyebrow at his disbelief before turning your attention fully back to Peter. You held out one of the lunch bags, offering a sheepish smile. "I brought your favorite sandwich from Deluca's. And some cookies Wanda and I made last night."

Peter relaxed slightly, unable to suppress his shy grin as he gently took the bag from you. "Thanks. You're the best."

You smiled warmly, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. "Obviously."

Behind him, Ned coughed pointedly, grinning eagerly as he waved at you. "Hi, Y/N!"

You chuckled softly, stepping around Peter and walking over to greet Ned and MJ warmly. "Hey, Ned. MJ."

MJ nodded calmly, lips quirking faintly. "Nice entrance."

You laughed softly, glancing around the cafeteria again with mild embarrassment. "Yeah, that wasn't exactly intentional."

Flash finally found his voice again, sputtering incredulously. "Hold up. You're seriously dating Parker?"

You glanced over at Flash, raising your eyebrows calmly. "You say that like it's surprising. We've been dating for a year."

Flash gaped openly, completely baffled. "But—but he's Parker! How?"

MJ tilted her head casually, voice dry and deadpan. "Generally, Flash, people date because they like each other. I know, shocking concept."

Peter flushed faintly, gently nudging your side as he leaned in closer. "I'm so sorry."

You grinned mischievously, eyes sparkling playfully as you glanced back at Peter. "Why? This is kind of fun."

Ned chuckled softly, shaking his head fondly. "You're terrifying sometimes, Y/N."

MJ smirked knowingly, still sketching calmly in her notebook. "That's why I like her."

You laughed lightly again, quickly leaning in to press a gentle kiss against Peter's cheek, making his blush deepen even further. "Anyway, enjoy your lunch. I'll see you after the tour?"

Peter nodded shyly, smiling softly at you. "Yeah, definitely."

Flash opened his mouth again, clearly still confused, but Happy suddenly appeared near your shoulder, arms crossed impatiently. "Alright, kids. As amusing as this drama is, lunch break's almost over. Finish eating, and we'll continue the tour."

You smiled sheepishly, giving Peter one final, affectionate glance. "See you soon, Pete."

Peter smiled warmly, heart fluttering softly as he watched you walk away. "See you."

As you disappeared down the hallway, Flash shook his head, muttering softly, "This is literally the weirdest day of my entire life."

MJ didn't look up from her book, casually replying, "Glad I was here to see it."

Ned grinned broadly, happily returning to his sandwich. "Me too."

Peter sighed quietly, finally relaxing fully into his seat again. He carefully opened the lunch bag you'd brought, smiling fondly when he saw his favorite sandwich and cookies neatly packed inside.

"You good, Parker?" MJ asked calmly, glancing up from her book briefly.

Peter smiled softly, feeling warmth spread through his chest as he nodded gently. "Yeah, I'm great."

From across the table, Flash silently stared at Peter for several more moments, clearly processing everything he'd witnessed before finally clearing his throat awkwardly. "So, um—do you, like, know Tony Stark, then?"

MJ rolled her eyes slightly, shaking her head with a faint sigh. "Flash, seriously."

Peter chuckled softly, finally feeling a little more confident. He glanced calmly toward Flash, shrugging lightly. "Yeah, Flash. I work with him pretty regularly."

Flash sat back heavily in his chair, looking thoroughly humbled. "Wow. That's… that's really cool."

MJ smirked faintly, muttering quietly enough for only Peter and Ned to hear. "And it only took two years to get through to him."

Peter smiled shyly, shaking his head slightly. "Better late than never, right?"

Ned chuckled warmly, raising his sandwich slightly in a mock-toast. "To Peter Parker—Stark Industries intern, Spider-Man, and boyfriend of Y/N freaking Stark. Dude, your life is insane."

Peter laughed softly, feeling a content warmth spread through him as he took a bite of his sandwich. "Yeah. It definitely is."

---

The rest of lunch passed quickly, and soon Happy returned to gather the students again. He stood at the head of the table, hands on his hips, clearly eager to finish his unofficial tour guide duties.

"Alright," Happy announced gruffly, looking around impatiently at the group. "Lunch break's over. Everyone, up. We're heading up to the R&D floors next."

Ned quickly stuffed the last of his sandwich into his mouth, scrambling to his feet eagerly. "R&D floors? Oh, man, I can't wait to see that!"

MJ calmly put away her sketchbook, casting Peter an amused look. "Try not to pass out from excitement, Leeds."

Flash lingered quietly near the back of the group, clearly still subdued by the earlier revelations. He offered Peter a small, somewhat awkward nod of acknowledgement as he passed by, clearly at a loss for how to handle the newfound information.

Peter smiled faintly, feeling slightly bad for Flash despite everything. He offered a small, friendly nod back before following the group toward the elevators.

As they gathered around the elevator, Ned practically bounced in place. "Dude, the R&D floors must be where all the top-secret stuff happens, right? Like experimental suits and nanotech?"

Peter chuckled quietly, nodding slightly. "Yeah, Mr. Stark keeps most of his really cool inventions there."

Happy ushered them inside impatiently, quickly pressing the button for one of the upper floors. "Stay close, please. And for the love of everything, do not touch anything."

The elevator doors opened, and the class stepped out into a large, open area filled with workstations, holographic projections, and advanced machinery. Several engineers moved around busily, immersed in various tasks and experiments.

Ned stared wide-eyed, quickly glancing at Peter in excitement. "This is so freaking cool!"

MJ arched an eyebrow slightly, looking mildly impressed despite herself. "I'll admit, this actually is impressive."

Flash stayed quiet, eyes carefully scanning the room, clearly wary of embarrassing himself further.

Happy cleared his throat, motioning toward one of the larger workstations. "Here at Stark Industries, our engineers develop cutting-edge technology daily. Everything from advanced energy solutions to prototype armor upgrades are created in this very room."

From the far side of the room, Tony Stark himself suddenly appeared, clearly engrossed in conversation with a technician. The class collectively froze, whispering excitedly as they recognized him.

"Dude," Ned whispered loudly, grabbing Peter's arm excitedly. "That's literally Tony Stark. He's right there!"

Peter smiled slightly, feeling his face flush again. "Yeah, Ned. I've seen him before."

Flash watched nervously, clearly intimidated. "Wow, it's really him. Like, Iron Man himself."

MJ sighed softly, rolling her eyes. "Congratulations, Flash, you have functioning eyes."

Tony glanced up briefly, eyebrows raised slightly as he noticed the group of teenagers staring at him. His lips quirked faintly in amusement as he spotted Peter, stepping closer casually.

"Peter," Tony greeted calmly, eyes sparkling knowingly. "How's the tour going? Still alive?"

Peter smiled weakly, scratching his neck shyly. "Barely, Mr. Stark."

Flash stared wide-eyed, completely silent again, visibly stunned.

Tony turned slightly, addressing the group with an amused smirk. "Hello, Midtown students. Hope you’ve been treating Peter nicely. I’d hate to revoke your guest privileges."

Peter bit his lip nervously, quickly shaking his head. "They're fine, Mr. Stark. Really."

Tony nodded casually, glancing back at Flash knowingly. "Good. Because someone around here owes my daughter an apology."

Flash flushed brightly, quickly looking away in embarrassment.

MJ smirked faintly, clearly entertained. "Nice going, Thompson."

Tony chuckled lightly, patting Peter gently on the shoulder. "Anyway, I’ll leave you all to it. Try not to break anything expensive."

"Yes, sir," Peter murmured quietly, cheeks flushed but unable to hide a small smile.

Tony gave a casual wave, already moving back toward his workstation. "Enjoy the rest of the tour."

As Tony walked away, Flash looked toward Peter sheepishly, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Hey, um—sorry for… you know, everything."

Peter smiled faintly, shrugging lightly. "It's fine, Flash."

MJ arched a calm eyebrow, offering Peter an amused glance. "You're too nice, Parker."

Peter chuckled softly, shaking his head slightly. "Yeah, probably."

Happy cleared his throat impatiently, motioning toward another workstation. "Alright, moving along. Lots to see, people."

They soon made their way to the Avengers gym. Through the soundproof glass they could see Natasha practicing her shooting, Bucky cleaning his metal arm, Steve hitting a boxing bag, and Sam and Clint preparing their own weapons.

“—well, Tony supposedly improved my exploding arrows.”

“Yeah, well he also upgraded Redwing.” Sam countered.

Clint narrowed his eyes at the mention of Redwing. "Look, Wilson, we all know Tony loves his robots, but arrows take precision and skill."

Sam scoffed, checking over his wrist controls with a confident smirk. "Oh, please. You can’t even hit a target without your fancy exploding arrows."

Clint frowned, quickly grabbing an arrow and notching it firmly. "I bet I hit my mark faster than you can get that toy of yours airborne."

Sam grinned sharply, raising his wrist confidently. "Deal, Barton. Count of three?"

"You're on," Clint shot back, aiming carefully at the target. "One... two... three!"

He fired the arrow, watching proudly as it sailed perfectly into the bullseye. But nothing happened. The arrow simply embedded itself, utterly anticlimactic.

Sam laughed loudly, shaking his head. "Well done, Barton. That’s impressive."

Clint stared incredulously at his arrow. "What the—these were fine yesterday! Stark must’ve given me defective ones."

Bucky snorted softly from nearby, polishing his metal arm casually. "Pretty sure Tony doesn't make anything defective."

Clint shot him an annoyed glare. "Yeah, well, I guess today’s his first."

"Watch and learn," Sam said confidently, activating Redwing from his wrist pad. The drone immediately sprang to life, hovering briefly in the air—before suddenly sputtering out with a pitiful beep and dropping uselessly to the ground.

Bucky raised an amused eyebrow, smirking faintly. "Problem, Sam?"

Sam stared open-mouthed at Redwing, quickly fiddling with the controls in frustration. "Aw, come on, not you too! Redwing was perfectly fine this morning!"

Clint rolled his eyes, quickly grabbing another arrow from his quiver, carefully examining it with suspicion. "Maybe the lab just had a glitch or something."

Steve paused his boxing practice, turning to watch them curiously. "You sure you two aren’t doing something wrong?"

Clint scoffed, rolling his shoulders irritably. "I've literally been doing this for decades, Steve. I think I know how to shoot an arrow."

"Alright," Sam announced, tapping at his controls again with determination. "Let's try this again."

"Second time’s the charm," Clint agreed dryly, pulling back his bowstring confidently. "Ready, Wilson?"

"Do it," Sam replied sharply, flicking his wrist pad once more.

Clint released his arrow just as Sam activated Redwing again—and chaos immediately erupted.

The arrow exploded dramatically with a loud pop, showering Clint in a thick cloud of bright, glittery red powder. At precisely the same moment, Sam’s wrist pad burst open, coating him in an identical sparkling mess.

Clint yelped loudly, stumbling backward as glitter settled over his hair, clothes, and face. "What the—oh, no, no, no! What is this stuff?"

Sam sputtered furiously, shaking his wrist uselessly and only spreading glitter further across his shirt. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me—Stark!"

Bucky started laughing immediately, clutching his sides as he watched Clint frantically try to wipe the glitter off, only succeeding in smearing it deeper into his clothes. "I stand corrected. Maybe Tony does make defective gear—on purpose."

Steve chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "You two might wanna clean that up before—"

"Too late," Natasha chimed in smoothly from across the room, carefully reloading her weapon with an amused smirk. "I warned you both about letting Thor and Loki visit Y/N."

Clint stopped his frantic glitter-rubbing, eyes narrowing suspiciously at Natasha. "Wait. You knew about this?"

She shrugged innocently, lips twitching upward. "Maybe."

Sam groaned dramatically, dropping his head back in annoyance. "Great. Loki glitter."

Natasha nodded knowingly, offering a small, sympathetic smile. "Sorry, boys. But I did warn you—multiple times."

Clint threw his hands up in exasperation, sending a fresh cloud of glitter into the air. "Why do we keep trusting Y/N when Thor and Loki are involved? Have we learned nothing?"

Bucky smirked faintly, leaning back comfortably in his seat. "Apparently not."

---

Outside the soundproof glass of the gym, Peter’s entire class stared in wide-eyed disbelief, clearly stunned by the spectacle they'd just witnessed.

Ned turned slowly toward Peter, whispering in awe. "Dude, that was the single greatest thing I've ever seen."

Peter shook his head slightly, trying not to smile as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah. Definitely a Y/N special."

Flash blinked rapidly, clearly still processing everything. "Wait, hold on. Y/N did that?"

MJ raised an eyebrow calmly, clearly entertained. "If you'd ever actually met her, you'd know that's practically her signature."

Peter chuckled softly, finally relaxing slightly as he nodded. "Yeah, she’s, uh... really into glitter-based revenge."

Flash let out a small, disbelieving laugh, shaking his head again. "This day just keeps getting weirder."

MJ smirked slightly, lips quirking upward in amusement. "Best day ever."

---

Inside the gym, Clint desperately tried wiping glitter from his face again, glaring toward the window suspiciously. "I swear, if Y/N is out there filming this—"

Bucky laughed again, shaking his head fondly. "Oh, I'm sure she’s got at least three different angles recorded by now."

Sam groaned loudly again, slumping down in defeat. "This glitter’s never coming off, is it?"

Natasha shrugged lightly, clearly unbothered. "Loki’s magic glitter? Probably not for days."

Steve smiled faintly, turning back to his boxing bag with an amused shake of his head. "Maybe next time, you'll both think twice before messing with Y/N."

Clint sighed dramatically, glaring down at his glitter-coated clothes. "Lesson officially learned. Never again."

Bucky chuckled knowingly, leaning back comfortably. "We both know that's a lie, Barton."

---

Happy turned from the gym window with an exhausted sigh, rubbing his temples tiredly. "Alright, kids, show's over. Let's move along before they decide to drag us into this glitter war."

Peter smiled faintly, glancing back once more at the glitter-covered scene inside the gym before following Ned and MJ down the hallway.

Flash walked quietly beside him, clearly still processing everything he'd witnessed. After a long moment, he finally spoke, voice hesitant. "Hey, Parker? Uh, your life is really weird."

Peter laughed softly, nodding gently. "Yeah. You have no idea."

Ned grinned broadly, nudging Peter playfully. "Best day ever, man. Best. Day. Ever."

MJ sighed dramatically, casually flipping open her sketchbook again. "Let's hope glitter removal isn't contagious."

Peter smiled warmly, finally feeling fully relaxed for the first time all day. Despite the chaos and embarrassment, he had to admit—today was definitely turning out better than he'd expected.

---

Back in your lab, you sat back happily, giggling softly as you watched the live footage on your tablet—Sam and Clint still frantically rubbing at the endless glitter.

Tony walked casually into the room, raising an eyebrow knowingly when he noticed your mischievous expression. "Let me guess—glitter?"

You grinned innocently, turning your tablet around to show him proudly. "Magic glitter. Loki’s specialty."

Tony laughed warmly, shaking his head fondly. "Nice touch, kid."

You beamed proudly, giggling again as you glanced back at the glitter-filled chaos. "Best prank yet."

Tony chuckled softly, squeezing your shoulder gently. "Just promise you'll give them a break tomorrow?"

You tilted your head thoughtfully, smirking slightly. "We'll see."

Tony smiled fondly, rolling his eyes warmly. "Alright, evil genius. I’ll leave you to it."

You grinned mischievously again, settling back comfortably in your chair. "Thanks, Dad."

As Tony walked away, you returned your attention happily to the glittery chaos on your tablet, already mentally planning your next prank. Life in Stark Tower was certainly never boring—and you wouldn't have it any other way.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #reader is tony stark's daughter #peter parker goes on a field trip to stark industries #avengers fix-it fic #avengers #iron man #tony stark #spiderman #peter parker’s field trip to stark industries #abby's works ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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sobbingscripter · 3 months ago

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Tags: [mlw][mdni][friends to more?][tw: forehead mention][rex is a girldad, prove me wrong][fingering][ex!fwb][spooning][lil' bit of a daddy kink][creaming][doggy style][spit][

"You know, that baby looks a lot like you." Mark hums softly, attention shifting between the toddler that stands between Rex's muscular thighs, chubby hands gripping the fabric of his sweatpants and green eyes stare up at him.

Rex's gaze lowers to meet Winnie's, wide eyes that mirror his own staring at the ice-cream cone in his hand, rosy lips wetting themselves with a pink tongue as she shifts on her tiny feet.

He does see the resemblance a bit. In her mannerisms, her appearance. Shit, even the way she instinctively shows Cecil her index finger whenever he walks into the room. Rex knows that's not the finger she wants to show.

"Nahh." Rex dismisses, lowering the treat just enough for Winnie's hand to grip at his wrist, unsteady legs keeping her up as she licks at the cone. "It's cause me and her mom are close. It's like when your cat start to look like you."

"Babies aren't cats, Rex." Mark deadpans, slender fingers tapping on his thigh as he stares at Winnie.

"Do you know who her dad is yet?"

Rex shakes his head, his pudgy thumb wiping away the smears of strawberry ice-cream before looking back towards Mark.

Before shrugging his broad shoulders.

"Doesn't matter. I'm basically her fun uncle." Rex boasts before looking down at Winnie, dimples deep in his honeyed cheeks, green eyes sparkling. "Ain't I, tubby?"

"Dlickwee!" Winnie giggles.

"Don't call me a dickweed, you dyslexic shit."

"Rex, she's a baby!" Mark defends, hands hooking underneath Winnie's chubby arms, tugging her up into the air before ultimately settling her on his thigh, chonky fists immediately moving to tug on the collar of his shirt.

"When are you gonna tell him?" Sam's voice is quiet, turning away from where Rex has Winnie cradled and she stares at you, shovelling spoonfuls of ice cream into your mouth.

"I kinda wanna watch him figure it out himself." You speak through a full mouth, before looking back towards Rex.

"He'd make such a good dad if he wasn't....you know..." "Slow?"

Kate interjects, gaze lifting from her book and you purse your lips, reluctantly nodding your head.

"So, are you like, around all the time?" Mark questions, attention divided between where Winnie toys with the chain around his neck, and where Rex is lounged, one muscular leg extended over the armrest of the sofa and the other foot planted on the carpeted floor.

"Mhm." Rex hums. "I basically live there. You know, cause the kid's dad's a fucking deadbeat."

And Mark scratches the back of his neck, almost awkwardly, gaze shifting.

"Yeah, well, you know, he might... Not know he has a kid." Mark mumbles and Rex shifts, green eyes regarding Mark with a scrutinizing gaze. Before looking between him and Winnie.

The way how she's always been so affectionate with Mark, excitedly clapping whenever she sees 'Unca Mar'. And Rex sucks on his teeth, brows furrowing with suspicion.

"Real fuckin weird thing to say. Defending a deadbeat." And Rex shifts, elbows resting on his knees and he leans forward.

"You got a confession, dickhead?"

"Wha— No. No. She's not my k— I've never even had sex with anyone other than Sam."

And Rex snorts.

"Real sad confession, buddy."

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨💥୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

There's no way to explain the demonic horniness that shrouds you like a thick mist when you see the way Rex gently brushes Winnie hair, bristles gentle against her soft strands and she simply keeps her gaze focused on the toy in her hands.

Beside him, lay an assortment of different hair accessories. Glittery hair ties, elastics, bows, and an assortment of clips, all decorated with various yellow things. Plastic gummy bears, bananas, stars, hearts. Everything that came from a superhero salary in her favourite colour.

"Okay, Pooh, what's the look for today?" Rex questions Winnie, brilliant green gaze focused on her, her small body settled between his muscular thighs, the sleeves of his T-shirt rolled up to the apex of forearm.

Veins bulge beneath the surface of the skin, scaling all the way up to wear the bunched fabric rests, wrists decorated with an assortment of jewellery. Namely black bands, brown beads and one very yellow friendship bracelet. Big, chunky beads that look jelly-ish, puffy letters that read 'WINNIE'.

Winnie babbles incoherently, pitch varying as her chubby hands continue to twist and turn the cube in her hands. Trying to assemble the colours in order.

"Hm.. s'thinking pigtails too. To minimise your mom's forehead genes." Rex snickers. "Dome headed."

And Rex divides the hair, carefully putting her hair in pretty pigtails like he's done many, many times before. Yellow decorates that gingery hair, green eyes obscured by yellow star-framed sunglasses and he waits until she lets out that squeal at her reflection before setting her down on the floor.

And she scrambles out of the room, excitedly, and Rex lets out a groan, arms stretching overhead before glancing towards you.

"Fuckin creep." He mocks, barely ducking the folded towel that's meant to collide with the back of his head.

"Fuck you. My forehead's normal sized." You defend, before shuffling properly into the bedroom, arms crossed over your chest and like clockwork, Rex's warm, warm hands move to grasp your hips, tugging you onto him unapologetically.

Your knees dig into the mattress on either side of him, your ass planted on his lower belly and your hands move towards bracing yourself on his chest. And Rex snorts.

"Muscle memory, huh?"

And you suck your teeth, rolling your eyes as you grab for the excess clips, sliding them into Rex's hair, your fingers carding through the tangerine strands, watching the way the silky tresses slip from your grasp with ease.

Rex swallows, gaze locked on your face. Taking in that wide eyed expression, perfect lips pursed in concentration as you continue to fuss with his hair, gorgeous eyes framed by the prettiest and longest lashes. And Rex's tongue brushes across his bottom lip, before he shifts beneath you.

And he just keeps staring.

Not only because you're just... So pretty to him, but he's looking. Really, really looking. He can see where Winnie gets her expressions. Pretty lashes with your eyes, that same... Thoughtless look behind them. God, it's like the lights are on but there's no one home.

His thumbs brush over your hip bones, the soft skin exposed by where your shirt rode up and Rex inhales sharply when he feels the way your thighs twitch at his sides.

And he's trying so hard to not look at your tits, pressed flush against the fabric of your shirt. God, pregnancy did you good.

"There's something we need to talk about later." Rex murmurs, swallowing down and he watches the way your movements halt, brows scrunching in confusion.

"Why can't we talk about it now?" You question.

"Because you might get mad and I don't wanna argue in front of the kid." Rex breathes out. "Not good for the developmental shit."

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨💥୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

Immediately when Winnie's with Mark and Sam, Rex is letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding and he's setting you down on the sofa.

Taking the seat across from you, and he crosses his arms over his chest, thick thighs spread and he leans back, doing the hip thing. You try to not focus on the bulge in the front of his sweatpants, and instead, on his face.

"What'd—"

"I wanna adopt Winnie."

It feels like a weight in your belly. Heavy, pointy edges poking into your intestines and you swallow, fingers fidgeting. And honestly, you don't know what's worse.

The fact that you'll have to admit the obvious truth, or the fact that either way, you'll be stuck with Rex indefinitely.

"I'm basically her dad already. I sleep here, I get her ready in the mornings, I feed her, I buy her that stupid Lab— what the fuck even is that?"

"It's a Labubu." "Well, it's La-expensive as fuck. Why can't she just play with socks like I did when I was a kid?" Rex huffs, and your brows raise.

"Was CPS ever called?"

"This isn't about me." And Rex inhales sharply. "I wanna... Officially co-parent Winnie. Like... As her dad and not her... fun uncle."

And you swallow.

"Rex... " You speak so softly, your fingers fiddling and you keep your gaze lowered.

"You remember... That one time in Cecil's office?"

"Which one? There were," He snorts, "quite a few times in Cecil's office."

"When... You were like, really depressed and you were kinda desperate, even though we were mad at each other. And like, you called me and I came and—"

"Oh, you came. You came three times." Rex boasts, before shifting in his seat. "But what about it?"

This is nerve wrecking. You'd think a former assassin would be a smart guy but no. Rex is dumber than a bag of rocks.

"Well... We didn't use a condom. And you didn't... Pull out either, because I didn't wanna make a mess and—"

And Rex's expression darkens. Brows form a deep frown, his jaw clenches and you're preparing for him to... Well, blow. Especially when you see that low, almost angelic glow beneath his skin and Rex takes a deep breath.

"I have a fucking kid and you didn't think to tell me?" Rex grits, blunt nails digging into his biceps as he tries to reign in the anger that's settling at the pit of his belly.

He's just mad that you didn't tell him.

"I thought you'd know by now." You murmur. "You sleep over a lot, she looks like you, she acts like you."

"I thought it's like fucking cats!" Rex groans, hands moving to card through his hair, muscular fingers tugging his hairtie off and he takes a deep breath.

"Rex, you haven't not been here, for the last two years. Are you even fucking?" You question.

"No, because— oh shit, I'm a dad." Rex mumbles, the reality sinking in. "...and I'm not beating her."

"I think you're still eligible for me to call CPS."

Rex doesn't really know how he didn't put it together as soon as Winnie popped out of you.

Literally.

He was in the delivery room, fingers laced with yours, wiping away the sweat from your hairline and making sure you didn't pass out from exertion.

He should've known when you tested her name out on your tongue, murmuring 'Winnie Sloan' as she nursed from you. And he definitely should've put two and two together when he found himself attending Daddy & Me classes.

Fuck. You'd even hummed 'she has your eyes' offhandedly as you fell asleep, in his arms.

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨💥୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

"I'm gonna watch a movie. You wanna watch?" Rex leans against the doorframe, arms folding across his chest, muscles bulge and green eyes watch you avidly as you pull a T-shirt over your head.

"What're you watching?" You question softly,

"The Mummy." Rex hums. "Brendan Frasier's one."

And it isn't even long before you're curled up, Rex's arms wrapped around your waist, his face pressed against the curve of your neck and his eyes are basically shut.

Even breaths leave him, his body warm against yours, your legs entangled and his palm remains splayed across the soft flesh of your belly, tucked away behind the fabric of your thin T-shirt.

"You want me to turn the movie off?" You ask softly, shifting a bit closer to Rex and he shakes his head.

"Hm-hm... m'listening, baby."

His voice is a low, sleepy rumble, body pressed so firmly against yours only for his lips to ghost the curve of your shoulder, the ball of his nose pressing against your pulse.

"..you smell good..." Rex mumbles lazily. "...really good."

And he shifts behind you, his free hand moving from being tucked beneath you, and instead, moving to your inner thigh. He guides your legs to part, calloused fingertips pressing into the soft flesh as he shifts your body, until your thigh's tossed over his legs.

And his hand nestles between your thighs, warm palm pressing against your even warmer cunt and he coos sleepily. Flimsy panties do nothing to tamper with your sensitivity, and Rex lets out a sleepy breath.

"I haven't had sex in two years."

Rex's voice is lazily, a sleepy murmur that's nearly drowned out by how fast the blood is rushing in your ears, your breaths just a bit uneven as his fingers press against your clit. Softly, gently. Circling the bud as his half-asleep brain pieces together the words.

And you nod your head, trying your hardest to keep your mind easy and clear, your chest heaving.

"You're gonna let me fuck you right?" Rex breathes out, pressing lazy kisses against the skin of your neck, his fingers tugging your soaked gusset aside, before dragging along your cunt. Slick fingers trace your slippery slit and he lets out a breath.

"Right, baby?" He murmurs softly. "You gonna let me fuck you nasty?"

And two fingers plunge into your cunt, warmth blossoming in your belly and if feels like electricity's crackling just behind your mound with each flutter of his fingers. And you nod your head, weakly.

"Uh huh?" Rex coos softly. "You gonna let me?"

There's nothing that's preparing you for the way that his fingers are fucking into you, curling against all the right spots while his other hand cups your chest, thumbing over your nipple until it pebbles beneath his thumb.

"Mhm... m'gonna let you..."

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨💥୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

And by God, do you let him.

Nothing prepares you for the way his cock bullies it's way into your cunt, your back arched like a fucking cat, cheek pressed against the pillow and your hands grip the sheets.

And Rex's hands move to palm the fleshy globes of your ass, spreading them just so he can watch your drooling pussy swallow him whole, inch by inch. Nothing separating you, and Rex's plump bottom lip is wedged between his pearly teeth as he watches that unexplored hole clench and flutter.

And he rolls his hips against yours, cock sloppily kissing your cervix and smearing precum against your walls, his gaze remaining locked on that pretty, furled target.

"God, you're so fuckin sexy..." Rex breathes out, hands moving to grasp your hips instead, pulling you back to meet each brutally slow thrust of his hips.

You're so warm, gooey walls fluttering around every inch and vein, slick oozing down your inner thighs and you're breathing heavy. Sounds muffled by the pillow, the fat of your ass bounces off his hips and he watches as one of your hands weakly attempts to reach behind you, fingertips ghosting over his lower belly to push him away.

"Rex...." You whine. "S'too deep.."

"Move your fucking hand." Rex grunts, one of his hands moving to pin your hand at the small of your back, and he watches your other hand move, reaching out towards the headboard instead.

And the glimpse of faint scratches against the headboard makes his head spin in that way that has him letting out a weak whine, leaning over you to grasp at the headboard. The muscles in his forearm flexes with his grip, his hips snapping unforgivingly against your ass until your cheeks burn red.

His other hand presses down in the centre of your back, forcing your back into an even deeper arch, listening to the way your moans are muffled.

Your cheeks are deeply flushed, skin glistening with a thin sheen and Rex pants, brows knitting into a frown when he feels your walls flutter and spasm, almost uncontrollably.

And he pulls back, until only his fat, mushroom-y tip remains buried in your warm cunt and your holes flutter when you feel the way he spits on your cunt, before pushing back inside.

And before you know it, you're coming around his cock, a frothy ring forming around the base of him, and he moans.

"That's it, baby. Come for daddy." Rex groans. "Be my nasty girl."

Rex has you in a fucking headlock before your brain's come down from your orgasm.

Your throat nestled in the crook of his elbow, bulging bicep against the side of your face and his weight is pressing you into the mattress, hips rutting wildly and his teeth are sinking into your shoulder.

And Rex is fucking you like an animal.

Groaning against your shoulder, weighing you down until your knees are weak and threatening to give out beneath you and he presses a kiss to that spot just behind your ear.

His voice low and just a bit hoarse.

"Let's see if I can make you remember..." He takes a deep breath, hips grinding against yours and you feel the way his cock twitches,

"who's your daddy."

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