#and the eyes ofc the chocolate button eyes jesus h christ

[infinite-orangepeel]

joseph….we’ve talked about this….if u keep making those faces, ur going to put all of us in critical condition

[slothspaghettiwrites]

01. The Meeting

01. The Meeting - Sleepless in Stark Towers

Story Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Feels, POV Tony Stark, Lack of Sleep, Peter Parker is your cousin, College Student Reader/OFC, There is some light stalking, Daddy Kink, Age Difference, Tony is 42ish, Reader/OFC is 18, Toxic Relationship, But not with Tony, Social media mentioned, Texting 

Relationships: Tony Stark x Reader or Tony Stark x OFC

Word Count: 3026

Summary: You've finally got away from Indiana, gone back to your roots in Queens. Within hours of being back, Peter introduces you to Tony Stark, his idol and mentor. Your first meeting only beginning to sow the seeds of a relationship that could be just what you two sleepless idiots need.

A/N: These are shamelessly related to some shit I went through at uni because lockdown is just really pulling it out of me, and it's gonna get a bit dark/sad before it gets better. Most of these parts have been written when I should have been sleeping and all mistakes are my own. I just needed to get these off my chest.Thank you for reading.

02. Steam >>

Mental exhaustion wasn’t a concept I understood. Physical, social, emotional exhaustion? Oh yeah, I understood those feelings just perfectly fine thank you very much. But my brain never shut off. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get the thoughts and ideas out of my head. I’d wake up in the middle of the night with new project concepts that needed to be documented before I forget them. My mom always said that was the Parker in me, but that didn’t make sense because we technically weren’t Parkers, but whatever. My cousin Peter though was literally the coolest kid ever, even before he was… Spider-Man… 

Yeah, I knew his super big secret because you don’t get Favorite Cousin™ status without knowing literally every little thing about one another. And because of my super awesome family status, I was able to guilt the little web slinger into giving me a tour of his “internship” at Stark Industries. Sure, I had just taken a red-eye flight from Nowheresville, Indiana to The Big Apple after spending the past 48 hours wide awake planning an art series, memorizing the subway system, and Amazon Priming all the school supplies I’d need to start my first year at college, but who cares? I’m in Stark Fucking Towers baby! At 7 am! With my BCFL!

“And you’re really sure it’s cool to just dump my shit at reception?” I plunged my hand into the deep pockets of my old sweatpants and pulled out God’s gift to Earth, chocolate-covered espresso beans. 

“Yep,” Peter popped the ‘p’ before he entered a code into the elevator, followed by some kind of body scan. I tried to hold in my grimace at something taking a scan of my figure.

“Mr. Parker, you are in early today. Who is your guest?” A British voice echoed through the large, glass carriage. 

“Mr. JARVIS, this is my cousin. I told Mr. Stark I was gonna bring her around for a tour.”

“I will inform Sir you are here then. He is still in Lab 7.”

“Thanks, Mr. JARVIS,” Peter smiled at me before the elevator rocketed up to some floor with no number button. 

The tour took us through probably more rooms and offices than Peter was allowed to show someone of the general public. What kind of company has its own coffee shop every 10 floors? Either way, I begged Peter to stop at one as the building began to properly open. A girl needs her triple shot mocha frappuccino y’all. So when the glass doors to Peter’s lab whooshed open, causing me to blink furiously, choking on an ice chunk, I was not ready to come face to face with Grade A daddy material. 

“Morning, Underoos.”

Strike that, he was Grade A+++++ daddy material with that voice. Jesus H. Christ could I stop coughing and make a worse first impression? Yes, technically I could have farted or burped like a trucker, but my horrible, pudgy red face would be a close second. 

“Morning, Mr. Stark. This is my cousin I was talking about last week,” Peter grinned way too brightly for any time of day. 

“The cousin you never stop talking about you mean?” Tony Stark smirked.

“It’s nice to meet ya, Peter talks about ya all the time,” I cleared my throat and grinned. My fingers were firmly clasped around my new Stark branded reusable cup. He didn’t like being handed things according to Peter, so I assumed that extended to handshakes. 

“Pete told me you were from Queens,” the billionaire squinted at me. 

“Born there, my parents shipped out to Indiana when I was like 2 or 3 so my dad could work at IU,” I tried to keep my gaze firmly on the space between his eyes. If I didn’t I was pretty damn sure I’d just start drooling over his facial hair. 

“And now she has returned to the holy land,” Peter nodded sagely, closing his eyes in finality. 

“Don’t let Capsicle hear you say that,” Mr. Stark pointed at him and then turned back to his work station, falling heavily onto his stool. “Pete, can you come look at this?”

“Sure, Mr. Stark,” Peter grinned even bigger and bright than before, flashing it first to me then in the direction of his boss. So much for never meeting your heroes, I guessed.

I fished my phone and snack out my pockets, skillfully unwrapping the plastic and tossing a few into my hand. My cup cradled in my arm still, I dropped the open package next to the guys as an offering and then went back to stand by the door. Lord knew what I was allowed to see or not see in this lab. My phone screen lit up with my dad’s massive face. 

“Mornin’ Fabio, you going to church?” I answered. 

“Yeah, just waiting on Mother,” He grumbled. “How was the flight, you with Peter?”

“Flight was as expected when forced to sit in a middle seat,” I grimaced, recalling how at one point during some turbulence I had been trying to squeeze back into my seat and fell hard on the armrest. I would definitely have a bruise on my hip by the evening. “Peter is good, he picked me up at the airport, sign and all.”

“I know you wanted to go back to New York, but are you sure you’re ready?”

“I’m not talking about this. I’m here, end of story,” I frowned. 

There was more grumbling and mumbling on his end of the line. “Your mother says good morning. We can talk later, we have to get going. Call that boyfriend of yours, he’s already texted your mom askin’ if you made it in alright.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. Have a good service,” I sighed and took a deep slurp of my drink. 

“You’re the one who chose to move so far away from your people.” He ended the call without saying goodbye. 

The screen went dark again and I pulled down the notification bar, 24 texts and two missed calls. I frowned further at the device before clicking it closed. My boyfriend could wait. He never answered my messages anyway. Pushing aside that upsetting interruption, I tossed back my snack and peered around what I assumed was Lab 7. The ceilings were at least two floors high, with floor to ceiling windows. The morning fog had burned off the late summer sun and we were so high up, I could see the proper skyline of the city even with the smog. I imagined at night, that view was stunning. Straw dangling in my mouth, I wandered around the scattered few work stations, careful to avoid looking at what had been left about. I pressed my phone against the glass and took a picture of the skyline. I made the image black and white and posted it to my instagram stories. A twinkling, popping, sparkle sticker gif over the top corner for flare. I didn’t tag my location, unsure whether I was allowed to do that as a civilian.

“If you want a better picture, you should go up to the penthouse. Practically see the whole city from there.”

I turned around, blushing and ready to apologize for wandering so far into the workspace. Tony sat alone at his desk, eyes trained one some kind of glass screen in front of him with the bag of espresso beans in his hand. 

“These are really good by the way,” he remarked. 

“I’m sure my mom would appreciate the compliment, Mr. Stark.”

“Jesus, not you too,” he shook his head. “Just call me Tony, Sweetheart.”

“Sur-sure thing,” I fumbled over my words, quickly averting my eyes to my phone. “Where’d Petey-Pie run off to?” 

“Bathroom,” Tony jutted his thumb out behind him. 

Another silence settled in the room. I wasn’t sure what to do. Was it rude to look at my phone more? I mean it was rude in the first place, but Tony and Peter had been discussing something. I didn’t want to intrude. 

“How old are you?” Tony suddenly asked. 

“I, uh, just turned 18 in May,” I took a slurp of my coffee, hoping the sweet icy mixture would cool the heat in my cheeks. 

We held eye contact until Peter came back from the bathroom. At the same time, our eyes flicked to him and then back to our screens. On my phone, a picture of my boyfriend at his senior football homecoming king crowning, standing just too close to a varsity cheerleader to cut out, appeared on my screen. That was the photo he wanted as his contact image, and I just couldn’t say no. I rolled my eyes then answered, not emotionally available for him at the moment, but feeling an amount of guilt I couldn’t quite place. 

“Morning Nathan,” I tried to sound rested and happy. 

“Hey, Dumplin’,” God I hated that nickname. “Are you checked in yet?”

“No, we haven’t gone to campus yet. Pete’s showing me around the city a bit,” my eyes flicked over to the guys, both of them pretending to be engrossed in something on his desk. 

“That’s not a good reason to ignore me.”

“Can you not right now?” I turned back to the window, even though I knew Peter could still hear everything. 

“Hey, you posted on Instagram, you can answer your fuckin’ phone.”

“Can I call you later, Nathan? Peter’s giving me a tour of his internship.” I wrapped my arm around my middle, hyper aware that I was wearing sweatpants and a crop top. Yeah, you couldn’t see my stomach, but I felt so exposed, I might as well have been naked. 

“Later doesn’t work for me Dumplin’, I’m helping Kelsey move into her dorm at IU,” Nathan sounded upset that I had forgotten his schedule and smug that he was hanging out with the girl who wasn’t me.

“Well, just text me when you’re done, and maybe we could video call then?” Why did I sound so desperate? How could we be struggling at a long distance relationship soon into the distance part? If you could call what we had a relationship really…

“Yeah, whatever. I gotta go.”

“Okay, lo-,” the line went dead. He was done with me. 

I took a deep breath, trying to regain whatever composure I could possibly have in my current sleep level. Nathan was a jerk, sure, but even with him, I was punching way above my weight. Figuratively that is because if this was wrestling, we’d probably be in the same weight class. Stop. There is nothing wrong with you. 

“I thought you told him not to call you Dumpling anymore?” Peter crossed his arm over his lean chest. 

“Yeah, he thinks the name suits me. It’s whatever. I’m a potato anyway,” I waved my cup around and tried to smirk. “Hey, it’s getting a bit late, I should get to campus. Check-in’s probably started already.”

“Happy will give you a ride,” Tony’s tone suggested I not argue with him. “Jay?”

“He has been notified, Sir.” The same voice from the elevator confirmed.

“Thank you, Sir,” I clutched my cup between my breasts and wrapped my other arm over my chest to rest my hand on my shoulder. 

Peter walked me back down to the reception desk. An annoyed looking man was lugging my luggage set around to the front of the desk, away from where we’d tucked it away. Peter rushed over and grabbed both massive bags with ease and guided me out to the sidewalk. 

“If you needed a certain friend of mine to have a talk with Nathan, you’d tell me right?”

“Yeah, I would Petey, don’t worry,” my face twitched into a smile as a sleek black car pulled up into the taxi rank outside the building. 

Bags loaded into the trunk and with a quick introduction to Happy, head of security and driver for Tony Stark, I parted ways with the one person I felt connected to. We sat in traffic, in silence, for nearly the whole drive. He’d occasionally commentate on a stupid driver, but I just hummed along. My mind was miles behind us and miles away at the same time. I didn’t doubt my choice in coming back to New York, it felt right to be here, but my confidence was always wobbly after a shit conversation with Nathan. 

Happy carried my bags up to the registration desk, then all the way to my dorm, even when I told him I could carry them, or that he really didn’t need to do that, but he insisted. I thanked him profusely for the heavy lifting while we outside the hall I would be calling home for the next year. A quick ‘see ya later’ later, I was opening the door to my new home, forcing a cheerfully greeting out to the three other girls I would be sharing the space with. My bags were dragged next to my bed and wardrobe, that being enough unpacking for the moment in my opinion. Yawning, I plopped down on the bottom bunk I had been assigned and flicked through my phone. A stupid smile and unnecessary blush spread across my face. 

Petey-Pie- Mr. Stark said he liked you. Also thank you for forgetting the snacks. 😈

The instant the elevator doors closed behind Peter and Temptation on a Stick, I rolled over the workstation furthest from the doors. Pulling up a new holoscreen on my private server, the search began. I needed to know everything. I knew quite a bit already since Peter talked about you nearly as much as he talked about Lego and Vines, which was honestly too much most of the time. But that’s not the point. You.

More of those addictive chocolate covered beans were tossed into my mouth and I had to hold in a groan. Why hadn’t I had these before?

Whatever. I flicked through different screens, learning more and more about you from what I could easily reach publicly, legally. 

“Jay, can you do a trace on a Nathan, should be friends with my girl on Instagram?”

“Easily, Sir,” the AI responded, a moment later confirming, “There a single post tagging both of them,”

A new page appeared on the screen, a huge group picture on some Christian youth group’s page. You were standing next to a beefy neanderthal who looked like he was sharing his one brain cell with the whole football team. 

“What can you tell me about this kid?”

“President of Christian Youth Leaders club, a varsity football player, voted the biggest flirt his senior year, graduated with a very average GPA, given a nearly full scholarship to IU to play football. He regularly posts pictures on his Instagram of him with the same five people. He doesn’t have any pictures of him with Miss, though she doesn’t have any pictures of him on her profile either though it appears they have been dating for nearly a year.”

“Hmm, keep an eye on the caveman,” I frowned at a local news article of him winning homecoming king. “Erase everything else.”

A deep groan rumbled through my chest, instantly regretting that I’d looked into you at all. I was being a creep, sure, but it felt like 12% acceptable after the intense eye contact we had. You were technically a legal consenting adult. Could make your own choices. But from the number of times you blushed and based on that stupid church club, I was really questioning my own morality. Why did I suggest you go up to the penthouse? Well, my second brain, the idiot one between my legs, knew exactly why I suggested it. You were young, beautiful, and had definitely checked me out. 

I finished the chocolate crack you’d left behind and called Pepper. I needed sleep, fuck mindless board meetings today. Jarvis recorded them anyway, Pepper knew what was best for the company, I didn’t really need to be there. A few hours of sleep should clear my head. 

Peter walked back into the lab as I was closing things down.

“Thanks again Mr. Stark for letting me give that hot mess a tour.”

“No worries, kid.” I whirled around to face him. “What was the deal with that call before she ran outta here?”

Peter groaned louder than I had two minutes ago. His arms started to flail as he found his words.

“That stupid caveman football player she’s ‘dating’. I honestly don’t know what she sees in him. He is so mean to her, but I guess her parents think the sun shines out his butt because they say that he's the best thing ever for her. But it’s obvious he’s no good for her,” a scowl settled on his features. “If he ever comes to New York, I’m gonna go all Spiderman on him.”

“Well, she seemed nice, Pete. Definitely got all the good Parker genes,” I joked, a smirk rising on my lips. 

“Oh, she isn’t a Parker,” Peter commented, pulling up his workstation. “Her mom and Aunt May are sisters. They don’t get along. I think it’s because she’s like mega religious and told Aunt May she’d go to hell for something.”

A noncommittal sound was all I could force out of my mouth. Somehow you not being blood-related to Peter lowered my guilt levels, but only marginally. My second brain was fully taking over now. You had just left and flashes of your flushed features when I called you sweetheart came to mind. I hadn’t even meant to say that, but fuck was I glad I did. The way your lips wrapped around that straw, in that cup with my name on it, brought to mind what else you could wrap your lips around. I had to force myself to keep my hands on my desk when you’d ended that fucking stupid call. How quickly that loser had ruined whatever vibe we had going. All I wanted to do was pull you into my lap and make you forget everything but me. 

I needed sleep and a cold shower.