#gousp series

[shakespeareanqueer]

Ghost of Unprotected Sex Past Chapter 15 - Water and Oil, Salt and Pepper

Pairing: Tony Stark x F!Reader // IronDad

Series summary: When your daughter gets sick, you finally have to tell Tony Stark he has a kid. How will he react? How will he get involved in your life?

Chapter summary: You have a very personal meeting with Pepper Potts

Word count: 1,286 words ✨Warnings: An uncomfortable conversation about an ex, including about wanting/not wanting children

A/N: I’m a day behind my posting schedule, but all is well. Here is the most recent chapter. Enjoy! 

As usual, I’ll reblog with links to my masterlist and series masterlist and my taglist (which is open for this series!). 

Tony seemed distant post-press conference, and you began to be concerned you had done something wrong. Or perhaps he was just worried about causing you more upset, or of leading the press on to think your relationship was more than it was. Or of leading you on to think your relationship was more than it was.

Well, if that was the case, it worked. You were firmly convinced that no matter what he said in the press conference, no matter what sweet moments had passed between you before, you were nothing more to him than his assistant, who happened to be the mother of his child temporarily living in his home.

Focusing your energy on your job was a good distraction from overthinking this kind of thing. So you dove into your work, taking on more responsibilities from Tony on the Stark Industries side of things so he could focus on Avengers business. In particular, he had to see to a new issue that had arose: negotiating certain terms in the Sokovia Accords that had come into contention even among the original countries that signed on.

Which is why, for the first time since you started the job several weeks ago, you were going to be meeting the great Pepper Potts today, bringing her several of Tony’s new designs for products you had actually brainstormed with Tony. The idea was to produce power tools powered by the miniaturized arc reactor technology. They would be rather expensive to start, but the more they were purchased and developed and updated, the cheaper the technology would get. The original market would be construction companies who cater to the very, very wealthy, but eventually they would get more accessible. At least, that was the hope.

You were nervous, so you had your whole pitch planned out, and you had rehearsed it in your mirror that morning.

As it turned out, your nerves were totally unnecessary, because Pepper Potts was the sweetest woman you had ever met. You were worried there would be awkwardness, considering you had taken her job and had feelings for her ex, but she was so considerate and made you feel so at ease that there was no problem whatsoever.

After going over your ideas (which she was thrilled about) and presenting her with Tony’s blueprints, she leaned back in her chair and looked you up and down. You began to heat up under her intense gaze. There were several moments of silence which felt awkward for you but not for her, if the cool and confident look on her face was anything to go by.

“I think you’re rather good for him, you know,” she finally said.

“Excuse me?” you asked, taken aback.

She smiled at you warmly, and whatever haunches you had put up instinctively at her comment eased down due to her friendly demeanor. “I’ve met with him a few times since you came into his life and he’s… better.”

“Better… how?” you asked cautiously.

Pepper’s eyes drifted to the corner of her ceiling. “He’s calmer, more assured. He has tells for when he’s anxious, and he’s been anxious for years. I wouldn’t say he’s cured or anything, but he’s better.” Then she added, “He’s completely over me and our relationship finally, which is good.”

You nervously began fiddling with the zipper of the laptop case in your lap. Her comments about their relationship made you feel a certain way you weren’t sure you wanted to examine.

“I don’t know if you remember this, but I remember you from before too,” she said, looking at you over her reading glasses. “I hired temps from your agency a few years back.”

You were startled. Of course you remembered the most high profile celebrity client you had to deal with at your last major job. She was also the reason you had the most profitable single day in the agency’s history, a fact you tried to remind your boss you were responsible for when asking for that raise you never got.

“I’m surprised you remember that,” you replied.

She shrugged, her smile sly but not accusatory. “When I heard there was a new woman in Tony’s life, I did my research, as I’m sure you did on me. And it came back to me when I saw your last place of employment.” You felt your cheeks heat up.

Another moment passed that you had a suspicion was more awkward for you than for your conversation partner. You didn’t know what to say. Should you confirm that you had, indeed, gone down an internet rabbit hole looking her up when you first walked back into Tony’s life? That felt too weird, so you refrained from saying any such thing.

“I think he’s been good for you too, from my little past experience of you,” Pepper finally mused.

Your eyebrows flew to the top of your head. “W-What makes you say that?”

Pepper shrugged again. “You seem more confident, more animated.” She gestured to the plans, the ideas for which had come out of your very brain. “The chance to be creative has vitalized you, I think. The freedom of economic security can do wonders, too. Besides, having the burden of a secret never helps one’s complexion, nor the burden of being a single parent. Whatever the reason, you seem happier.”

“Thank you,” you said shyly, shifting your laptop case in your lap.

Pepper was totally undeterred by how uncomfortable you seemed or how taciturn you were being. She continued on in almost a reverie.

“Tony and I were too much alike in some ways, and too different in others. We’re both fiercely selfish as a form of self-care or protection even though it doesn’t come naturally, to him because it goes against his selfless nature and to me because it goes against my upbringing.”

You nodded and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, listening intently.

“You know, some people were surprised to hear in the press conference that he didn’t subject you to paternity tests. But I wasn’t.”

“Oh?” you asked so low you may as well have been whispering.

“He wanted a family. I didn’t. On top of not wanting to put my body through that personally, I thought it wasn’t fair to bring a child into his life. I couldn’t ask him to stop being Iron Man; I did once, and I regretted it. Not because he couldn’t stop and ended up back into it, but because I felt guilty when disaster struck and he wasn’t there. Now he actually wants to slow down, and I couldn’t bring myself to actually want that from him, or to give him a child. We wanted different things in life, and different things of each other.” Despite the personal and upsetting nature of the truths she was revealing, she smiled at you then. “Then a few weeks after we broke up, you brought everything he had been asking me for right to his doorstep. A reason to slow down and not feel guilty about it. A child. A family.”

“And an assistant,” you reminded her jokingly, pulling the pencil out from behind your ear.

She laughed. “Yes, and an assistant too.” She cleared her throat then and shuffled the blueprints you had handed her to even out the bottoms. “Well, thank you, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ll look these over and figure out the best way SI can get them into production.”

“Thank you, Ms. Potts,” you said, and rose to leave.

What an odd meeting. You walked away with a million things she had said fluttering around in your brain and absolutely no clue about what to make of any of it.

[shakespeareanqueer]

Ghost of Unprotected Sex Past Chapter 16 - Cookie Dough

Pairing: Tony Stark x F!Reader // IronDad

Series summary: When your daughter gets sick, you finally have to tell Tony Stark he has a kid. How will he react? How will he get involved in your life?

Chapter summary: Tony and your daughter make cookie dough and have a very interesting conversation that you may or may not overhear part of

Word count: 785 words✨ Warnings: Migraine mention, medication mention, uncomfortable convo, sort of mutual pining

A/N: This is just a lil drabble chap I threw together. Enjoy! 

I’ll reblog with links to my masterlist and the series masterlist, my taglist, and citing the header photo.

A horrible migraine had kept you in bed all day. Tony graciously agreed to watch and entertain Amelie for the duration. They spent the morning out of the house while you tried to nap the headache away, and when they came home, Tony tried to keep your daughter and their joint activity as quiet as possible so you could continue to rest.

Unbeknownst to them both, you overheard a bit of their conversation from around the corner when you came downstairs, feeling mostly better and just a little light-headed from the medication.

They were unpacking the groceries they’d bought together, keeping out the things they’d need for making cookies.

“Iron Dad?” Amy asked carefully, while she flattened a reusable shopping bag and hung it on the hook under the sink.

“Yeah, sweetie?” Tony asked, unpacking a carton of eggs that he made sure to put in the middle of the counter where neither he nor the eight-year-old could knock them over.

“Why aren’t you and mommy like other mommies and daddies?” You nearly snorted from your post around the corner. You could tell she was utilizing the presupposed innocence of being a child, but that she knew exactly what she was asking.

She was observing Tony’s physical response closely, as were you. He had frozen in his tracks of unloading the milk, not even feeling the cold air of the fridge blow on his face; he was stuck like a deer in headlights.

“Wh-what do you mean?” he asked with a forced chuckle, knowing precisely what she meant.

Amelie shrugged, continuing to feign both ignorance and innocence, a veil you, as her mother, could see right through. “Other mommies and daddies hold hands, kiss goodbye, love each other…”

“Ok stop right there,” Tony said, his voice firm but gentle. “Your mommy and I do love each other, but it’s complicated, all right? You’re a smart kid; you know what complicated means. We do love each other, but more importantly we both love you.”

“You don’t love each other the way other mommies and daddies love each other,” Amy insisted, little hands on her little hips now. “You’re not in love with each other. Is that what you mean by ‘complicated’?”

“We’re not—She’s not— She doesn’t—” Tony cleared his throat. “We are not together. We are not a couple. We are not married. But we love you and we’re going to be the best parents we can be to you from now on, we can promise you that. Now enough questions, all right?”

Tony cringed as he pulled the metal mixing bowls from the cabinet a little too roughly and they banged loudly, hoping that didn’t wake you, not knowing that you had been awake for a while now.

“What are you guys making?” you asked, walking through the doorway to the kitchen.

“Hey, feeling better?” Tony asked, while Amelie chirped, “Cookies!”

“Yeah a little,” you replied to Tony’s query, squeezing his hand in a grateful and affectionate gesture.

Maybe you could incorporate a few more of those into your life. Maybe that would make Amelie feel more comfortable, make her feel like she had parents that were more like the other mommies and daddies.

Maybe that wouldn’t make you go completely crazy.

You shook yourself out of your daze. “Did you guys get pasteurized eggs, so we can eat the cookie dough without getting salmonella?”

Tony nodded and pointed to them in the middle of the counter. “Ames was very insistent.”

You smiled. “Well, the cookie dough is the best part.”

You ended up making a single tray of cookies, and eating the dough equivalent of probably three trays. You’d totally ruined your appetites for dinner, and some voice in the back of your mind reminded you that you and/or Tony should probably have been the sensible adult who prevented this, but it was all too fun and too familial and you wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

Part of you wished this was the new normal, permanently. Part of you wished you didn’t have to go back to a tiny kitchen in an apartment, because even a nicer kitchen in a nicer apartment would still be smaller and less fancy than this mansion one. Part of you wished you didn’t have to go back to being a single parent most of the time, that you could always share evenings and afternoons and mornings, and not have to strictly regiment custody time.

And part of you wished that Tony’s answer when Amy asked if you guys were in love… was yes.

But maybe that was just the migraine medication talking. It always did make you a little loopy.

[shakespeareanqueer]

Ghost of Unprotected Sex Past Chapter 14 - Confessions Under the Influence

Pairing: Tony Stark x F!Reader // IronDad

Series summary: When your daughter gets sick, you finally have to tell Tony Stark he has a kid. How will he react? How will he get involved in your life?

Chapter summary: Rhodey gives Tony a little liquid courage to confess his feelings about you, at least to him. 

Word count: 1,362 ✨Warnings:: Alcohol, intoxication, pining, curse words

A/N: This chapter was initially to fill (and named for) the square in my Tony Stark Bingo card “Confessions Under the Influence” But even though that bingo is over, I’m still continuing with the series as planned. Please heed the content warnings. Thanks and enjoy!

As usual, I’ll reblog with links to my masterlist and series masterlist (pages and posts), my tag lists, and citing the header image. (Tag lists are open! Just shoot me an ask.)

A few days after the press conference, Tony was in his lab late into the evening when Rhodey walked in.

“Hey, man,” he said.

Tony didn’t look up from what he was doing, but he did smile. “Hey, honeybear.”

“You’re working late,” Rhodey commented.

Tony just gave a hum of acknowledgement.

Rhodey sat in the desk chair and leaned back on his hands crossed behind his head. “Don’t you have a ‘family’ to get back to?” He put lots of emphasis on the word ‘family,’ drawing out all the syllables in his mouth and unfolding his hands to hold them up in air quotes.

This made Tony stop fiddling with the suit and look up at his best friend curiously. “Why do you say it like that?”

Rhodey shrugged. “You said it more than a few times in your press conference, then several more times in your written release,” he replied. “It stood out.”

Tony put down his wrench and crossed his arms. “What’s your point?”

Rhodey fought back a smile. “No point.”

“No, no, no,” Tony said, walking towards Rhodey, now brandishing his wrench and pointing it at his friend’s face. “What is it? And don’t say nothing.”

“You just…” Rhodey exhaled a puff of air as he considered the best way to phrase what he wanted to say.

“A family can be your daughter and her mother,” Tony said defensively, not letting Rhodey even finish. “Even if you’re not with the mother.” He added the last part slightly more quietly.

Rhodey chuckled. “See that’s the thing…”

“What’s the thing? What?” Tony crossed his arms again, his shoulders rising nearly to his ears with how tense and on guard he was getting.

Rhodey knew this wasn’t the way to have this conversation if he wanted Tony to be open and honest. And he wished Tony would be truthful with himself more than he cared about being told the truth. He was fairly certain he knew the truth anyway. What he wanted was for Tony to admit it to himself.

He had seen how Tony looked at you when you weren’t looking. He had heard him rave about your work as his assistant, your delicious cooking, your phenomenal parenting skills, your incredible intelligence. You were all Tony seemed to talk about these days, you and your daughter. He had known his best friend for decades, and he could read him like a book. And not even a difficult book; more like a board book meant for babies, the kind with a word  or two per page and lots of very obvious, colorful pictures.

He could tell when Iron Man was infatuated with someone, and he was infatuated with you.

And while Rhodey didn’t usually like feeding into Tony’s vices, he also knew the only way he was going to get him to be honest with himself on this particular, sensitive matter was to put some alcohol into his system.

“Come on buddy,” he said. “Let’s grab a drink.”

Tony could sense the game that Rhodey was playing, but he was so sure of himself that he figured he could handle whatever tricks his best friend had up his sleeve. So he wiped his greasy hands on his jeans and replied, “Fine. I was just about done here anyway.”

They decided to go back to Rhodey’s apartment. Rhodey knew Tony would be more free there, since he wouldn’t be worried about his daughter coming down the stairs to see him plastered, or for you to accidentally overhear him rave about you while getting a late-night cup of tea.

But Rhodey’s place meant the freedom afforded by the cushy and expansive space paid for by a colonel’s salary, away from the potentially prying ears of Tony’s newfound family. So just a few drinks in, Tony was feeling pretty loose and his words were flowing, just as Rhodey predicted they would.

“She’s just so wonderful!” Tony babbled happily, slurring his words slightly as he took another swig of beer. He was in that mode where he couldn’t sit still, the alcohol temporarily infusing him with a rambling energy, building and building until the fatigue set in that would inevitably come crashing down sometime in the early morning if he kept on in this vein. Rhodey was all too familiar with this mode, watching with a sly smile as his best friend paced frantically about the room. “So sweet and fun. Professional without being a buzzkill. A fantastic mother without being matronly. No, definitely not matronly; hot as fuck.”

Rhodey could tell that the bottle was ready to pop. Barely any coaxing, and Tony would be spilling the contents of his heart. Rhodey just had to make sure it was before he spilled the contents of his stomach.

“Would you be interested in sleeping with her again?” he asked innocently, taking a small sip of his own beer. He was several behind Tony, but he had no interest in trying to catch up.

“Hell yeah!” Tony shouted enthusiastically, and unnecessarily loudly considering the close proximity he was in to Rhodey. “I have fantasized so much about fucking her again! Every wet dream I’ve had in the last few months has featured her.”

“So do you have any interest in sleeping with anyone else every again?” Rhodey asked, inching towards the point.

The alchol in his system had loosened Tony up enough so that he didn’t even hesitate to answer, “No, not really. I’ve had enough dalliance in my life. I could easily be a one-woman guy.” He stopped pacing and said, more quietly, “I thought it was going to be Pepper.”

Rhodey needed to pull Tony back from the precipice he was dangerously close to, of tipping over into ‘sad drunk’ territory. “But it could be Y/n?” he asked hastily.

Just as quickly as his energy had waned, Tony was suddenly infused with it once more. A huge grin spread wide across his face. “I don’t know for sure. But I’d like that.”

Rhodey breathed a sigh of relief. “How about the not-sex stuff?” he probed. “The romantic stuff. Do you want that stuff with her too?”

Tony plopped down next to Rhodey on the couch and placed his hands behind his head after running one through his hair. He took a deep breath through his nose, exhaling slowly. Rhodey started to panic again, knowing that this was the first sign that Tony was beginning to sober up.

But then Tony turned to him with a dopey grin on his face, and totally blew Rhodey’s expectations away. Even in his more cogent state, he readily admitted, “Yeah, Rhodes. I do. I want it all.” He leaned back and closed his eyes, allowing himself to imagine all that he described. “It’s like we’ve skipped a few steps, you know? We already have the domestic stuff.  The kid, the house, the family dinners, the game nights. But I want to take that step back. To woo her. Take her on romantic dates, the whole nine yards. But with the commitment behind it, if that makes sense, and none of the… the…” He pursed his lips, searching for the word.

“The confusion?” Rhodey tried.

Tony pulled a face. “I guess. The uncertainty, maybe? I think that’s closer. And I don't mean I want the certainty that she’ll leave in the morning and I’ll get back to my life, like with so many other women through my life, but I want the certainty that she definitely won’t.”

Rhodey smiled, genuinely happy for his best friend, and thrilled that his endeavors had succeeded better than he could have hoped. “I think you know what I wanted you to say when I fed you this poison,” he whispered, taking the beer bottle from beside Tony and placing it with his own empty bottle behind them.

Tony gave a lopsided grin and nodded. “And you’re right,” he said. His words were much less slurred now. He had a remarkably high tolerance for alcohol, and could sober up fairly quickly when he wanted to.

So he was completely in his right mind when he admitted, “I’m in love with her.”

[shakespeareanqueer]

Ghost of Unprotected Sex Past Chapter 13 - Paparazzi

Pairing: Tony Stark x F!Reader // IronDad

Series summary: When your daughter gets sick, you finally have to tell Tony Stark he has a kid. How will he react? How will he get involved in your life?

Chapter summary: The secret is out.

Word count: 1,682 words ✨ Content warnings: Blackmail, stalking, obnoxious journalists

A/N: This one fills my first (and probably only at this point) bingo for Tony Stark Bingo! Please enjoy! 

I will reblog with links and tags

Inevitably, it came. The day you had been fearing since you first learned you were pregnant with Tony Stark’s child. The day your secret was unveiled, against your will.

You stared at the email in Tony’s inbox, your chest pounding with horror. You were totally frozen. You had no idea how long you stayed like that, terror spreading through your limbs, stock still, before Tony finally found you. One look at your wan face and mortified expression and he was rushing to your side, kneeling down beside your desk chair.

“What’s wrong??” he asked. “Y/n, please tell me what happened?”

Though your arm felt like lead, you managed to make a vague gesture towards the computer. With an apologetic look, Tony wheeled your desk chair back a few inches so he could wedge his way in, then grabbed the mouse and wiggled it to wake the screen up.

The traumatizing image had been so seared in your brain, you hadn’t even noticed the screen go blank.

As he scrolled through the email, Tony’s expression grew more and more concerned and sour. When he finished, he turned back to you. He stroked a hand through his beard pensively, sighed, and leaned back against your desk.

“So, someone knows,” he stated simply.

The email was a blackmail note. Photos of Tony playing with Amelie at a near-by park, buying her ice cream out of an ice cream truck at the end of the driveway and then escorting her back into the mansion up the long drive, and the most intimate set of photographs—all three of you, in your pajamas, watching the stars on Tony’s expansive lawn and then heading back inside together.

The body of the email threatened to release the photos, and therefore the information that Tony Stark had a ‘secret family,’ unless one million dollars were wired to a bank routing number provided.

You were starting to shake uncontrollably, and Tony knelt by your side, stroking his hand up your arm in a comforting gesture. Tears were beginning to flow down your cheeks.

“This dude’s got balls messing with me,” Tony said. “But they aren’t made of iron.”

“Are you…” You sniffled. “Are you suggesting your testicles are made of iron, Tony?”

“I wasn’t—Not my testicles no, but my—My suit…” Tony stammered, and through your tears you managed several chuckles. It warmed his heart to see you cheered up, even just a little.

It was simple enough catching the guy. The bank routing number was meant to be untraceable, but Tony was more than just a suit—he was a hacking genius. He managed to find the perpetrator, and had Rhodey arrest him immediately.

But this whole incident opened your eyes to the impossibility of keeping your daughter secret forever, especially if you were living and working with Tony. It was time to tell the world. You had a heart-to-heart with Amelie about it, and she accepted the idea. In fact, she showed an enormous amount of grace and maturity about it for an eight-year-old.

“Is today the day I get to be on TV???!!!!”

She showed less grace and maturity when the day finally came. But what could you expect. She was a kid, excitable and adorable.

One of the most difficult things you had had to do as part of your job so far, was arrange for Tony to have the press conference where he revealed your daughter’s existence to the world. When he stepped out onto the podium to make his speech, you weren’t sure you’d be able to hear him over the beating of your own heart.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming to hear my announcement today,” he began. “This is not Avengers business, but is, in fact, personal.”

“So this is not about the return of Captain Rogers and the rest of the Avengers?” one of the journalists called out. You recognized him as being from one of the lower, scummier tabloids. “Awww!!”

You whispered to the security guard beside you.

“This matter is very close to my heart, and while I am usually a laid-back sort of person, I would like this matter taken seriously, more for the benefit of my family than myself.”

Tony spared a small glance at you out of the corner of his eyes. Hearing him refer to you as his family made you feel some kind of way, but you were not sure quite what that way was.

“There have been some rumors floating around about me recently, and I would like to lay them to rest by putting the entire truth out there,” Tony continued. He took a deep breath to center himself. “About nine years ago, I—”

“Became Iron Man, yeah, yeah, we know! Get to the good stuff!” the reporter from before was shouting desperately, trying to hear the announcement before he was forced out of the hall, as the security guard had been urging him quietly and discretely along. With a nod from you, the burly security guard hauled the man over his shoulder and removed him from the hall entirely.

Tony took another deep breath and tried again. “About nine years ago, I engaged in relations with a woman with whom I was barely acquainted. Those who are familiar with my behavior patterns at that time will hardly be surprised. It was one of my last liaisons before I was kidnapped, became Iron Man, and cleaned up my act in that regard.

“Many people predicted, during the years I engaged in my most heinous behavior and had quite a significant number of relations, that it was statistically likely that there might be a result to one of those unions. Over the years, several women have claimed their children to be mine, but none of those claims have been true. Until now.”

Whispers and clammer began to fill the room, but Tony silenced them simply by raising his hand. You marveled at how the man known for being so crazy and fancy-free, managed to look so regal in this moment.

“A couple months ago, a woman I had previously been acquainted with very little, but had had relations with nine years ago, approached me to inform me that her eight-year-old daughter was, in fact, mine. While I have not had any DNA testing done, I have had no reasons to doubt these claims, and have full confidence in the mother’s integrity and the truth that her child, Amelie Y/L/N, is, in fact, my daughter.”

The chatter began again, but Tony just spoke over it this time.

“Due to recent health concerns, my daughter and her mother have been living with me. The mother, Y/N Y/L/N, also now serves as my executive assistant. I can assure you she is more than qualified for the position, and this was not merely a case of nepotism. I have been in need of an executive assistant since I promoted my last one to CEO of Stark Industries, and in even more desperate need since more Avengers-related concerns fell directly onto my shoulders.” His voice cracked slightly right at the end; he didn’t say it, but everyone knew he was referring to the loss of Steve, Wanda, Clint and Sam on the Avengers team.

“The main reason Ms. Y/L/N kept Amelie from my awareness and the awareness of the general public is due to the fact that they are private people. Any attempts to defame Ms. Y/L/N or my daughter will be met with legal action, and any attempt to invade their privacy will be met with the fullest force of the law. As a family, we have come to the communal decision to request the utmost privacy from the press and the public, and we humbly ask that you respect this request.”

That was the second time he referred to you and your daughter and him, your little unit, as a family, and your chest was beginning to warm with the idea.

“While Ms. Y/L/N and I are not in a relationship, I refer to us as a family, because a family does not necessarily need to fit the traditional definition. My relationship with Ms. Y/L/N is professional and platonic in nature.” Unbidden, your heart sank at his words, despite the fact that nothing he said was untrue. “But that does not change the fact that she bore and has raised my child for the last eight years. Moving forward, we will be raising our daughter together, even though we are not ‘together.’” He held up his hands in air-quotes.

You could feel yourself dissociating the longer he talked, and you could tell his insistence on the platonic nature of your relationship would echo in your head for a long time to come, in a very unwelcome manner.

“I will not take questions, but my family and I will pose for photographs to accompany your stories,” Tony said. “This is to encourage you all not to seek further photography when my family and I are not posing for your benefit.” His tone as he completed his speech had a bite of warning to it.

Before, when he had referred to you all as a family, it had felt warm, it had felt right. Now, it just felt like mockery. You chastised yourself for feeling this way, but your heart was a traitor against your brain.

Amelie loved the attention of the photoshoot. She had adored the attention she got when she was dressed and made up and had her hair done, and now she was eating up the glamor of being in front of the cameras. She was a natural, and you couldn’t help but smile fondly at how well she was taking all of this.

All Tony could think as the three of you posed for photos in front of the step-and-repeat, was how he hoped that you liked his speech, and that he hadn’t ruined his chance with you.

[shakespeareanqueer]

Ghost of Unprotected Sex Past Chapter 12 - The Date

Pairing: Tony Stark x F!Reader // IronDad

Series summary: When your daughter gets sick, you finally have to tell Tony Stark he has a kid. How will he react? How will he get involved in your life?

Chapter summary: Tony goes on a date with some random woman. You’re not sure how to feel about it.

Word count: 1,897 words ✨ Content warnings: Mutual pining, jealousy

A/N: I have three fewer days than I realized to get my TSB posts done, so the rest of the chapters of this series and a whole shit ton of one-shots are hopefully going to come at you rapid-fire if I can get my shit together and write so be prepared! This chapter actually isn’t for Tony Stark Bingo though. Enjoy!

I’ll reblog with a link to my masterlist, the series masterlist and series masterpost, and my taglists. 

Every time Tony would poke his head in to make sure you were ok, after waking up from some horrific nightmare where he watched you die or get seriously injured by Obadiah Stane or Loki or King Kong, you would wake up. You couldn’t help it; you were a very light sleeper. But you didn’t mind, honestly you didn’t. He would creep into the room just far enough so he could see your chest moving up and down with the breath of life. When he crept back out again, you couldn’t help but smile. Obviously you weren’t glad he was having nightmares, but this little ritual was a sign that he cared, even if it was only a little.

On top of living in Tony’s mansion, you were still working for him too. Being his personal assistant was rigorous, but you had to admit that Tony made for the best boss you’d ever worked under. You managed his phone calls, his emails, his paperwork, and his calendar

Which is what you were currently staring at, as your mind short-circuited in a very unpleasant way. The event had been put there by Tony himself.

‘Date with Rebecca Anderson.’

You weren’t sure why it was bothering you so much. He was a free man, you were a free woman. You weren’t together romantically or sexually. He was allowed to see whoever he wanted.

You entertained the thought that you resented the fact that he had time for dating, when you were bogged down with a full-time job and a child. You almost called yourself a single-mother in your head, but you weren’t anymore, were you? You may not have a romantic partner, but you had a co-parent, in Tony. And your job was time-consuming, but it’s not like you were an Avenger or anything. Tony spent tons of time with your kid, and you knew he would happily take care of her for an evening if you were to choose to go out with friends or on a date. No, you couldn’t really resent him, per se.

So then why couldn’t you get this stupid date out of your head?! Even after you force quit the calendar app and tried to busy yourself with other work, your mind kept drifting back to it. You wondered what she looked like, how old she was. If he had seen her before, if he would see her again.

What if he would want to bring her back to the house? To sleep with, and sleep over? Oh god, could you stand to wake up and see another woman in the kitchen, just in Tony’s shirt, smelling of sex? What if you could hear her grunts and groans from down the hall?

That was ridiculous. If you couldn’t hear Tony’s nightmare screams, you wouldn’t hear any sex. But was that worse? If you knew you wouldn’t hear them, there would always be the possibility she came over and snuck out before you woke up. And that thought would haunt you.

What the fuck was wrong with you? Why on earth should that haunt you? You needed to get your shit together, and fast.

A few hours later, you thought you had gotten past your weird episode from the morning. But then you saw Tony, and your mind was flooded again. He wasn’t even doing anything, but that was just the problem. He didn’t look nervous or excited for his date. He was just sitting in the Tower lab, drawing up specs and chatting with FRIDAY like nothing in the world was special about today.

You may have slammed the pile of contracts in your hands down on the workbench with a little more force than you intended. “Sign these,” you said, your tone maybe a little more short than usual.

Tony looked up at you, eyes wide. He dropped what he was doing immediately and picked up a pen, beginning to sign wherever you had put a sticky note without any question. “Something wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said curtly.

“Really?” He seemed genuinely concerned, and you felt slightly ashamed of yourself for your pettiness.

“Didn’t sleep great,” you mumbled in way of a half-assed explanation.

“Hm,” Tony hummed. He didn’t seem totally convinced, but he didn’t push either. He finished signing the contracts in silence.

“Don’t forget about your date tonight.” The bite, though unintentional, is back full-force in your tone.

Tony furrowed his brow. “What?”

You hastily swept the contracts up and clutched them tight to your chest. “Your date. With a Rebecca Anderson. It’s on your calendar for tonight at eight.” You really, really just wanted to be out of this lab and this conversation.

“Oh crap,” Tony mused, rubbing his chin. “I totally forgot about that. I made that ages ago.” He crinkled his nose. “I guess it’s too late to cancel, huh?”

You took a deep breath and commanded yourself not to sound accusatory.“Why would you want to?” you asked.

“Because…” Tony looked at you with big, brown eyes and for a moment you thought… Because it seemed like he thought…. But then he shook his head and said, “You’re right. I wouldn’t. No reason. I’ll… leave the lab early to get ready.”

“Sounds good,” you said, proud of yourself for the neutrality of tone you finally achieved, just in time for the conversation to be over. “And Tony…” You were almost at the door, and he glanced at you over his shoulder. “If I don’t see you before then. Have fun.”

He sent you a tiny little half smile, the kind where your lips tuck in— almost a grimace, really— then turned back to his work. You inhaled a centering breath. As you made the trip back to your office, your inward monologue comprised of you complimenting yourself on the maturity of your well-wishes and criticizing the huge pit sitting stubbornly in the bottom of your stomach.

Tony found himself sitting at his date unable to concentrate on the woman in front of him. His mind kept drifting to the conversation he had with you earlier. He kept hearing you say, ‘Don’t forget about your date tonight,’ on repeat, over and over in his head. Something about it was bothering him, something about the way you barked it at him.

Could it be you were… jealous? You certainly had nothing to be jealous of. You were ten times more attractive, a hundred times smarter, and a thousand times more interesting than this woman. Who even was this woman, anyway? Just some blogger who had tapped him for an interview months ago. He had been down in the dumps at the time, fresh off his break-up with Pepper, but he put up his protective humor shield and flirted his way through the interview like usual. She was mesmerized by his charm and practically begged him for a date. He had feigned a hugely busy schedule until an evening way in the future when he guessed and hoped he would be over Pepper.

Well, he was over Pepper, but he still wasn’t into her.

She wasn’t anyone; she was just some blogger he had flirted with once.

Then again, who had you been? Six months ago, you had been just some woman at a pool party he hooked up with once. But now you were so much more. You were the mother of his child. You were the best assistant he had ever had, the best home chef he’d ever known, the most wonderful co-parent he could have ever asked for. You had grown to be so much more to him these past couple months.

And if he was being honest with himself, he sort of saw it coming. He saw the spark of something special in you back when you first hooked up, but he convinced himself he was crazy, that you weren’t good for him, that he wasn’t ready for commitment of any kind.

And he wasn’t. Things probably turned out exactly as they should have, timing-wise.

Tony suddenly realized that Rebecca Anderson had been talking to him for the last ten minutes, and he had absorbed absolutely none of it. He was very aware of how completely unfair to this perfectly nice lady it was that he was spending the entire evening thinking about you, and he knew he had to cut this short. He fiddled with his phone for a moment under the table, covertly, until it started to buzz loudly.

“Oooh, so sorry!” he feigned, pretending to fish it out of his pocket. “I have it switched to silent except for emergencies.”

He pretended to pick up a call, pretended to listen for a moment, then made his eyes go wide. “Of course, sir. I’ll be right there, sir.”

Rebecca was eating it up, enraptured by the concept that her very own date could be called away on important Avengers business.

“So sorry, my dear,” Tony said, putting the phone back in his pocket and going to stand.

“I understand, of course, Tones,” Rebecca gushed, and Tony winced at the intimate nickname she had helped herself to without permission or the requisite closeness.

Tony didn’t say he had a lovely time, and he didn’t promise to call. He didn’t want to back himself into a corner or make himself any more of a liar than this dubious exit strategy already made him. He just rushed out of there with purpose. Once alone in his carl he let out a huge breath before allowing himself to smile at the thought that he would get to return home to you. And Amelie of course.

When Tony got home, he walked in on a scene of domestic bliss he thought he’d never get the privilege of having. True, you weren’t actually his partner, and true, your living here was a temporary arrangement. But it still filled his heart with joy to step through his door and see you and Amelie setting up a lego Avengers Tower on his living room floor.

Was Tony just being paranoid earlier, thinking you were bothered by his having a date? Or maybe it was just wishful thinking. You seemed totally fine now, completely content and smiling at your daughter warmly as she stacked the blocks according to the instructions you read aloud.

“How are my two favorite girls this evening?” Tony greeted, causing you both to look up at him.

You gave a small, welcoming smile, and Amelie beamed wide and bright. She grabbed one of the lego pieces and ran up to him, proudly exclaiming, “Look, Iron Dad! It’s you!” She extended the piece, and indeed, it was him as a lego, in his red and gold suit. It had come with the kit when he purchased it when it was first released four years ago. It came as well as lego figurines of the other five original Avengers, of which he was the last remaining active, not-criminal Avenger.

“That was a short date,” you mused as he settled on the floor next to you.

Tony shrugged. “I’d rather be home, with you guys.”

You rewarded him with a warm smile and a small blush. And he spent the rest of the evening playing legos with his best girls—a much better time than some stupid date.

[shakespeareanqueer]

Ghost of Unprotected Sex Past Chapter 10 - Moving Day

Pairing: Tony Stark x F!Reader // IronDad

Series summary: When your daughter gets sick, you finally have to tell Tony Stark he has a kid. How will he react? How will he get involved in your life?

Chapter summary: You’re moving in temporarily with Tony, and your imagination starts to wander

Word count: 1,091 words ✨Content warnings: Nothing, really

A/N: I’m behind on my plan of getting this series out, so I’m gonna try to pick up the pace! We’re finally starting back in on the chapters that are Tony Stark Bingo entries, so hopefully it stands alone enough to work for A3: Fireplace

I saw advice not to put links in original fic posts for searchability reasons, so I’ll reblog with a link to my masterlist, the series masterlist & the series masterpost; my taglist; tagging Tony Stark Bingo; and citing the header photo.

The day had come. The day you would move yourself and your eight-year-old daughter, Amelie, into Tony Stark’s New York mansion. He was her father, after all, even if she and he just learned this a couple weeks ago.

In lieu of paying for a storage unit, you just moved all your stuff into Tony’s mansion with no intention of unpacking everything yet. You’d unpack just what you needed to stay for a few weeks while you searched for a new place of your own, and all the rest of your stuff would sit in bins in one of the many extra rooms no one used.

But that still meant that you rented a truck and hired an entire crew to haul all of your boxes into the lavish New York mansion, so it felt like a proper ‘move-in day.’ It was a weird feeling, watching strangers move your stuff into a strange space. Against your better judgment, you started imagining what it would be like if you were truly moving in, properly, permanently.

You knew you would have to make changes to the space in that scenario. It wasn’t nearly homey enough, personal enough. You would for sure put some softer, warmer tones. Some family photos on the wall, of you and Amelie. Perhaps some of the sweet snapshots you had sneakily taken while Tony and Amy had been playing these last couple weeks. They always did look so precious together. She would be so excited and eager, and he gazed at her like she was his whole world. Just precious.

The couch, too, you’d change. The sharp angles and amount of exposed wood made it uninviting and it looked terribly uncomfortable. You would at the very least add some plush pillows and soft throw blankets. But with Tony’s money, you could easily buy a whole new couch. Something softer, more colorful.

Your eyes drifted to the stairwell. They were a cold metal, with huge gaps between the steps. Dangerous for a small child. Amelie was past the age of inherent danger, but she was clumsy so it still worried you. And what if smaller children came to play, the siblings of her friends or your nieces and nephew? No, they should be completely redone to be less like the stairs in a government office building and more like the stairs in a family’s home, made of wood and carpet. The carpet should be a nice, pleasing, neutral color, in a material that was easily cleanable, in the case that there should be any spills. Or if a pet were to ever be in the picture.

For the first time, you noticed there was a fireplace. Just under the ginormous TV. It was like it was hidden, tucked away. Even it was cold and metallic and uninviting. You’d build it out, put some brick around the outside, even if it were fake, to make it look more homey and cozy. Put pictures up on the mantelpiece, like the ones you’d put on the walls. Friends and family. Amelie’s dance photos—her dance school held a photoshoot at the local armory with a retired professional photographer in their dance costumes and makeup, the week before every recital.

It suddenly occurred to you that you had no pictures of the three of you to put up there. Well, it’s not like you were a proper family anyway.

But didn’t you want to be? For Amelie? You and Tony were only sort of barely friends after hooking up once almost nine years ago, but you were also co-parents— that was the new arrangement. Perhaps at the next holiday you could make sure there were photos taken of the three of you, nice ones where your hair and makeup were done up well enough so you didn’t look like an embarrassment next to the gorgeous celebrity that was Tony Stark.

You continued to gaze at the fireplace. Tony celebrated Christmas, right? Amelie would probably expect a stocking. You would make sure it was stuffed with things that were normal for kids her age, candy and collectible coins and action figures, not fancy uber-rich people stuff like keys to a car for when she’s sixteen and diamond bracelets at age eight. But for the gifts under the tree—would you let him spoil her then? Just once in a year, let him treat her like a princess like she deserved? Was it fair to deprive her entirely of what Tony had the means to provide for her, just because other people weren’t as lucky? Suddenly you felt very guilty for giving her only what little you could afford these last eight years, instead of letting her bask in the warmth of Tony’s wealth.

Tony caught you staring. He recognized the look of guilt and shame in your eye. Even if he didn’t know exactly what you were thinking—that was Wanda’s gig, not his—he could guess well enough that it had something to do with the opulence of his residence, and the stark difference between it and what you left behind. He lay a hand on your shoulder tenderly, and before you could even think you found yourself leaning into his touch.

“She doesn’t blame you,” he whispered. “She’s just excited to be here now.”

You sighed. “But won’t she? Later, when she really stops and thinks about how she spent eight years without this, without you, simply because I was stubborn.”

Tony shook his head. “I’ll write a book,” he said. “A memoir. I’ll explain that it was the perfect time for her to be brought into my life, because my life was a complete disaster before. She’ll understand. She’s a smart kid.”

“She is a smart kid,” you agreed.

Tony wrapped his arm around your shoulder. For a few quiet, peaceful moments, you watched the mantelpiece together. It suddenly occurred to you that the house was silent. The moving people must have been done and gone.

By and by, Tony said, “I know you didn’t want to unpack, but do you have any photos of Amelie I could throw up there?”

You cleared your throat and pulled away from his embrace, suddenly realizing that you had been leaning your head against him. “Yeah, sure.”

He sighed and gazed around, stuffing his hands in his pocket. He looked around his own home, as if seeing it for the first time. “I was thinking of redecorating to make this place more kid-friendly, more homey,” he explained. “Any ideas?”

[shakespeareanqueer]

Ghost of Unprotected Sex Past Chapter 9 - The Apartment

Pairing: Tony Stark x F!Reader // IronDad 

Series summary: When your daughter gets sick, you finally have to tell Tony Stark he has a kid. How will he react? How will he get involved in your life?

Chapter summary: Tony sees your apartment for the first time.

WC: 2K ✨Contents: Not much. A not-so-great living situation. A dead bug.

A/N: And finally the next installment of this series! I gotta get moving on this one, jeez. Anywho, enjoy! 

I saw advice not to include links in original fic posts, for searchability reasons, so I will reblog with my taglist, citing the header photo, and a link to my masterlist.

It had been three weeks since you and Amelie had moved out of your temporary situation in the Tower and back into your own apartment. Amy still hadn’t seen his mansion, which you were glad of. You were still dreading the moment she’d realize just how much nicer it would be to live with her father full-time instead of the run-down apartment you rented.

What you didn’t realize was that the danger lay not in Amelie seeing what she was missing, but in Tony seeing what you were limited to, compared to him.

This particular day he insisted on walking you home after lunch, since you had chosen to meet at one of Amelie’s favorite cafes in your neighborhood. She was going through a bit of a phase where she wanted to share everything with her father, constantly bragging for him. She brought in drawings she made and stories she wrote and little trinkets she found on the ground. She enthusiastically shared with him every detail, her entire thought process through the whole thing. With the patience of a saint he listened and reacted with the appropriate amount of pride and admiration. Showing him her favorite places, and insisting they split her favorite milkshake, was part of this habit she was developing. And she was still deep in a story about how her teacher, Miss Woodhouse, had successfully ‘tamed’ the ‘wild kid’ from her grade, Kyle, when they were ready to leave the restaurant. Tony insisted on letting her finish it, on the walk home.

And when Amelie’s story still wasn’t finished when you reached the lobby of your building, he ended up coming up to your apartment.

It was against your will. You were prepared to stand outside the building for as long as necessary for Amy to finish her narrative, but she took the liberty of inviting him up.

“Mommy just bought my favorite juice pops!” she said. “Do you want to come over and have one?”

Tony chuckled and looked at you for permission, but Amy was already taking the key out of your hand to let the three of you into the building. Ultimately, both adults could do nothing but follow helplessly. The child was relentless when she wanted to be. And so Tony got a sneak peak of your living situation.

His face was not subtle; he was appalled.

“Sorry it’s a bit messy right now,” you apologized, “I haven’t had the chance to tidy up.” You hastily grabbed jackets that had been tossed over the back of a chair, not really sure what to do with them once they were slung over your arm because you didn’t have a coat rack. You ended up walking into the bedroom with purpose, as if they had a place there, but then just tossing them onto the bed and scurrying back out into the main room, nervous to leave Tony unaccompanied (or accompanied just by your daughter) for too long.

There was only so much that could be tossed into the category of ‘not having had the chance to tidy up.’ The obviously broken dishwasher you were just using as a drying rack, the cracked drywall exposing the brick above the TV (and not in a chic, intentional, bohemian kind of way), the perpetual leak of the kitchen faucet, the snapped leg of the kitchen table being supported by a stack of magazines.

“When’s the last time you had the super do any repairs?” Tony asked distractedly, examining the sizable crack in the kitchen counter that limited your food-preparing space significantly.

“Mommy says I’m not supposed to talk to our super,” Amy announced.

“Sh, sweetheart,” you hushed, corralling her into the bedroom and shoving your iPad into her hands. “The super’s not the most reliable person. I gave up asking him for stuff a while ago,” you answered Tony’s question with as casual a tone as you could muster, but your daughter’s comment had majorly piqued his concern.

His eyes examined the space. There was the door leading out to the hallway, the door to the bedroom that Amy just disappeared into, and an open door through which he could see a small bathroom overcrowded with toiletries, bath toys, and children’s liquid versions of cold and flu medicines, all branded with cartoon animals and Disney princesses.

“Is there just the one bedroom?” Tony asked quietly.

With a defeated sigh, you hung your head. “Yes,” you answered. “Now that she’s bigger, I sleep out here on the pull-out couch.”

You just knew that Tony was looking at you with that expression of pity that you hated above anything else, so you avoided his gaze, rushing around and tidying up some more.

“It’s really not that bad,” you said. “It’s like Suite Life of Zach and Cody. You ever see that show? I used to babysit a kid who was obsessed.”

“You deserve better than this,” Tony said, his voice still soft. You continued to avoid his gaze like the plague.

“I know Amy deserves better, but I’m not going to let her move in with you full time, away from me. I mean, if you choose to take legal action, obviously you’d win and there’s nothing I could do but—“

Tony cut you off, grabbing your shoulders and forcing you to look at him. He wasn’t giving you a look of pity, but of concern and confusion and determination. “I would never take her away from you, Y/n,” he said resolutely. “Obviously she deserves better than this, but so do you.”

You shook your head, tearing away from him so he couldn’t see the tears in your eyes.

“Do I?” you asked under your breath. You didn’t think he could hear but he could.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Tony was genuinely confused how you could think so little of yourself when he thought so highly of you.

You sat with a hard plop on the couch that pulled out to be your bed. You could hear the sound of Amelie’s favorite TV show drifting from the bedroom and knew she’d be too enraptured in the cartoon to be paying attention to your conversation with her father. But still, you spoke quietly enough that Tony had to join you on the couch to catch all your words.

“Why would I, Tony?” you asked sincerely. “All I am is a screw-up. I couldn’t make it in college, so I could never get a high enough paying job to get any better place. I could never keep a good enough job for long enough, anyway. I couldn’t even remember to take my birth control the right way, which is how I ended up with Amelie so young and unmarried.” You grabbed a tissue from a box that was sitting on the floor beside the sofa and blew hard.

“But you don’t regret our baby girl?” Tony asked.  

“Of course not, but she has to live like this because I’m not good enough.” Your voice broke by the end of the sentence.

Tony placed his hands on your knees and made you look at him, so you could see the sincerity in his eyes when he said, “You are good enough. You are so good. You have brought this miracle into the world, and into our lives. You have taken such good care of her and she is growing up to be such an incredible tiny human being. And who the fuck cares about college?” He threw up his hands. “Overrated.”

You chuckled. “Easy for you to say. You graduated less than ten years older than Amy is now.”

“I left for college so early not just because I could, but because I would have done anything to get out of my house,” he admitted. “My parents barely raised me. My dad was distant and aloof and uncaring. My mom, well she tried a little harder, but she never could stand up to him.” He took a beat, staring into the distance with misty eyes. “To my understanding, Thor’s relationship with his parents was much the same. And King T’Challa’s. Nat’s family sold her to the KGB, and Clint’s parents left him so he had to join the circus.” His brain was going off on a tangent. He shook his head to get back on track. “My point is, being a parent is fucking hard. Being a single parent must be even harder. I am so impressed by you for all you’ve done.”

He glanced around again, and winced when he noticed the water stain on the ceiling creeping outwards from the bathroom door. “But even separate from our baby girl, you deserve better than this. And you can afford better now, with what I’m paying you. I know I don’t know much about finances, but I know for a fact that salary could get you more than this. And if it can’t, I’ll up it.”

You stood up and ran your hand through your hair, beginning to pace the minuscule length of your apartment. “I—”

“This isn’t accepting charity, Y/n,” he cut you off, reading your mind and addressing your main concern. “It’s improving your living situation using your own means, ones you’ve earned. Your new organizational system has worked like a charm, and we have been a well-oiled machine at work, haven’t we? You’re the best assistant I’ve had. Better than Pepper, compatibility-wise with me. I mean that.”

You ceased your pacing to gaze upon the papers spread out on your kitchen table, demanding your attention. One was stained with the guts of a bug that had crawled across the table when you were first inspecting the documents. It was your lease, up for renewal, extremely imminently. For the first time in a while, you didn’t have to worry about whether you could afford the hike-up. But Tony was right; once a few more paychecks came in, and you finished paying off all your bills and debts, you could afford a better place than this. A better life for your girl.

With a sigh, you acquiesced. “I really hate to ask, but could I get enough of an advance to afford a small storage unit and a hotel set-up for a few weeks? Maybe some moving guys?” you asked, a plan forming in your mind. “The lease is up too soon for me to find the new place in time.”

Tony’s face lit up, beyond pleased you were accepting his advice. “Not a problem!” he assured you. Then he bit his lip. “Or…” He looked almost guilty.

You popped a hip and quirked your brow at him. “Or what?”

“Or you could move in with me,” he said quickly. Then he held his hands up, immediately registering the disapproving expression that was your automatic reaction to his suggestion. “Just for the few weeks you need to search for a new place of your own.”

“I can’t live in the Tower any longer, Tony,” you insisted. “Living in the same place I work was not working for me.”

“Not the Tower,” he promised. “My house.”

Your brows flew up. “That mansion? I’d never be able to get Amy out of there. Anything would be a major downgrade after that, no matter how much swankier than here.”

Tony stood and walked over to you, taking your hand. “It’ll be fine. I want her to come visit weekends and whatnot anyway, so it’s not like she’ll have to abandon the place entirely when you guys leave. Besides, she’s excited by the concept of me, but she barely knows me. She loves you, and would live with you anywhere.”

You bit your lip, unconvinced.

So he continued, “The kid’s super logical, right? And she’s seen the Tower. Seen the living quarters there. She knows I’m a celebrity, knows I’m rich. She has to know I live nicer than this.” He waved his hand, gesturing the space around them, biting back the urge to say, ‘Most people do.’ “And has she said a word?”

You shook your head.

“No. Because she doesn’t care about that stuff, clearly. She just wants to be where you are, with her mom.” He smiled softly, and you couldn’t help letting your expression mirror his.

You let out a heavy breath through your nose, the reality of the situation finally kicking in. You glanced around your space, taking in the second-hand couch you salvaged from a foreclosed frat house and the mismatched kitchen chairs all from the side of the road and the red wine stain on your carpet, and your heart swelled with the idea that in just a few weeks, you would never have to live here again.

[shakespeareanqueer]

hey can you put me on Ghost Of Unprotected Sex taglist?

Absolutely! I’m so glad you’re enjoying it so far! 

Ghost of Unprotected Sex Past Masterlist

[shakespeareanqueer]

Ghost of Unprotected Sex Past Series Masterlist Post

Three Things - Tony Stark Bingo, Free Space

Small Skim Latte

Monkey Bars

Under the Knife

Recovery

The Nursery

2007

Just Down the Hall

The Apartment

Moving Day - Tony Stark Bingo, Fireplace

Can’t Sleep? - Tony Stark Bingo, Phobia

The Date

Paparazzi - Tony Stark Bingo, Photoshoot

Confessions Under the Influence - Tony Stark Bingo, Confessions Under the Influence

Water and Oil, Salt and Pepper

Cookie Dough

Bedtime Story - Tony Stark Bingo, Writing Style-Fairytale Narration

The Wisdom of a Child

Late Night Cookies - Tony Stark Bingo, Cheesy

Saturdays are for The Boys - Tony Stark Bingo, Dares/Bets

Measure that Shit with your Heart - Tony Stark Bingo, Learning to Cook

Apartment Hunting

Epilogue - Tony Stark Bingo, The End

[shakespeareanqueer]

Ghost of Unprotected Sex Past Chapter 4 - Under the Knife

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader (formerly… and possibly future?? ;) ) // IronDad

Series summary: When your daughter gets sick, you finally have to tell Tony Stark he has a kid. How will he react? How will he get involved in your life?

Chapter summary: Your daughter undergoes her surgery

Word count: 1,874 words

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist

Contents: This one’s a bit angsty, y’all. Your daughter’s in surgery. There’s some pining happening. Mentions of joblessness and financial insecurity. The f word.

A/N: Tag list for this series is open; just shoot me an ask! Enjoy!

Chapter 4 - Under the Knife

Photo by Martha Dominguez de Gouveia on Unsplash

Monday came. You were significantly more nervous about the surgery than your daughter was. Some might say she didn’t have the intelligence to be nervous, that she was too young. But you knew better. She just trusted implicitly the medical professionals involved in her case.

They were actually different doctors than intended. Tony had flown in the best, most expensive surgeon for the job, to be performed in the high-tech, super-secure medical facility in the upstate Avengers compound, so you cancelled your original appointment. Any embarrassment at the lavish display of wealth business tycoon Tony Stark was exhibiting melted away with the thought that it was for your baby girl.

“Iron Dad is going to come and be with you during your surgery, is that all right, sweetheart?” you asked Amelie as you helped her pull on her sneakers.

“Yeah!” she shouted enthusiastically.

When you arrived at the medical wing, Tony was already there, sitting on a chair out in the foyer. He was bouncing his knee nervously and looked as much of a wreck as you felt.

Amelie tugged on your hand to get your attention. You knelt down to her level so she could whisper on your ear, “Is this an ok place to call him Iron Dad?”

You glanced around you. There was the medical staff, bound by doctor/patient confidentiality, and a couple administrative employees who almost certainly signed non-disclosure agreements to be employed by Stark Industries. And any of the remaining non-outlaw Avengers could show up at any moment, but you had no doubt that Tony would have already informed them of the situation. So you nodded at your daughter.

She smiled and released your hand only to bound up to Tony enthusiastically, screaming “IRON DAD!!”

Tony’s face lit up when he saw her. He picked her up and pulled her into his lap without missing a beat, causing her to erupt in a fit of giggles. He greeted her warmly, “Hey, sweetheart.”

A young woman in scrubs approached them just as you were walking up and asked if this was the patient. Upon confirmation, she led her away by the hand, letting Tony and you know that you would be summoned after the surgery to sit with her. You gave your little girl a big hug and kiss, then sat down beside Tony in the little waiting area.

“She seems nice. Is she the doctor?” you asked.

He shook his head. “One of the nurses.”

You just nodded. There were a few awkward moments.

Tony’s leg was bouncing up and down uncontrollably. He was biting so hard into his bottom lip that he had drawn blood. His hand was practically vibrating with how much it was trembling. So despite the fact that the kid going under the knife a few rooms away was one you had birthed and raised and held and comforted and guided and you were absolutely fucking terrified and he had met her yesterday, you took his hand in yours and squeezed. It was a comforting gesture, instinctual and automatic and it just felt right.

You sat there, hand in hand, in a now at least semi-comfortable silence for over an hour. You hadn’t even noticed you were swiping your thumb across the top of his hand, nor that you had leaned slightly into his side until you were flush against him. The warmth of his body was welcoming and soothing. With just the smallest turn of your neck you would be leaning against his shoulder…

Suddenly a nurse approached and cleared his throat to get the attention of the pair of you. You both jumped up, eager, hands still intertwined. Several spots of blood on the nurse’s scrubs made your heart start beating faster and your breath hitch. A million terrible thoughts and hypotheticals were swirling through your mind, threatening to overtake you. Tony squeezed your hand in an attempt to ground you but also for his own comfort.

“She’s all right,” the nurse assured you before anything else, sensing the tension and the questions hovering in the air. You and Tony simultaneously let out the breaths you had been holding.

“Can we see her now?” You heard yourself saying it as if from a great height. Nothing felt real, not even being in your own body.

“Yes. She won’t wake up for a few more hours, but you can come sit with her. Follow me.” The nurse turned on his heels and you let your feet carry you through the halls behind him.

You only detangled your fingers from Tony’s when the unconscious form of your daughter lying in the hospital bed came into view. You raced forward and around the other side where a chair had already been set up. You took Amelie’s limp hand in your own.

Tony’s movements were slower, more languid. He pulled a chair to her other side and took the hand nearest him.

The atmosphere was calmer than it was out in the waiting room. Having Amelie here, hearing the steady beeping of the heart monitor confirming that she was ok, allowed you to relax a little.

“Don’t you dare worry about the bill, by the way,” you heard after a quiet several minutes.

You looked up at him in surprise. “Oh, I… I… It may have been presumptuous but I… wasn’t. Not since you-” You waved your hands to indicate the space that you were in: a building owned by him, surrounded by doctors hired by him. “And you’re-” Another vague hand motion in his direction, carrying with it the reminder of his reputation- billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.

“Good, good, that’s… good,” Tony responded, rubbing the back of his neck.

He still seemed nervous. It wasn’t about Amelie though; that part of his nerves had calmed down, making way for something new. You knew this because the hand holding Amelie’s was steady, but he kept sneaking glances at you and then hastily looking away.

You hated how you could read him so well after all this time.

“What is it, Tony?” you sighed.

His eyes widened. “What?”

“I can tell there’s something else you want to say. Spill it.” You looked right into his eyes, silently daring him to look away or avoid the question.

“I just… I don’t want you to think I’m offering charity…”

“If you do what, Tony?” you asked, exasperated.

“If… if I offer you a job,” his voice was so small, almost weak. You barely caught it over the beeping of the monitors.

You stared at him a moment, mouth agape just slightly, before starting to fiddle with a piece of lint in your lap. “I-I don’t need…” It was your turn to stammer.

You could feel his eyes on you as you kept your gaze directed downwards. You could imagine the look of pity he was giving you, and you couldn’t stand it. You could just hear the way he’d drawl out your name, like he was disappointed in you. You clenched your jaw and braced yourself for it.

But it never came. Instead he rattled off the ways he knew you did, in fact, need a job. “You’ve been in professional attire every time I’ve seen you except today, including on the weekend, but you have nowhere to be on a Monday. Your business cards were way close to the top of your purse when you first came to see me, and look crisp and freshly printed…”

“Ok!” you snapped, cutting him off. “My last job wasn’t paying enough and when I asked about a raise or a promotion they laughed in my face so I quit. I’ve been looking for a better job for weeks with no luck. Happy?”

When you finally looked up at him, you expected him to look smug at your admission, or perhaps still have that lingering pity in his eyes, but neither was the case. He still looked as guilty and nervous as he had before he raised the topic.

“No, I’m not happy. I want you to be employed if that’s what you want,” he murmured.

“And if that’s not what I wanted?” you scoffed. “You’d just set me and Amy up for life like some sort of weird sugar baby arrangement?” You were mostly joking.

But when he actually shrugged, you mumbled, “Jesus christ.”

“But I figured that wasn’t what you would want so I wasn’t going to offer!” he said in defense.

“Yeah no shit that isn’t what I want!”

“I’d appreciate you not using that language in front of our child…”

“She’s asleep, Tony!” You were all but shouting now.

You took a deep, calming breath. It didn’t matter how much Anthony Edward Stark got on your nerves; he was the father of your child, and you would try and get along with him for the sake of your shared offspring.

“Anyway…” Tony continued, his volume having reduced significantly once again. “With Pepper promoted to CEO of Stark Industries, and… no longer in my life in a… personal sense…I could use an assistant.”

You stared at him. “Not a maid or anything! I can take care of myself.” You scoffed at that, but he kept plowing through. “An executive assistant. To keep me on top of my meetings and appearances and stuff.”

Your immediate reaction was to tell him to fuck off, but when you looked down at your daughter you softened. Things had been tough. You had rent payments to make that were overdue, and you were stretching your good credit with the landlord thin. Even if the doctors hadn’t needed Tony’s medical history, you likely would have had to knock on his door anyway, because there was no way you could have paid for this surgery, even with the most average of doctors. Being an executive assistant wouldn’t be too far off from your last job as manager of a temp agency, so you knew you had the skills.

“Yeah, ok,” you conceded, taking Amelie’s hand in yours again and not looking Tony in the eye.

But you caught his smile in your periphery. “Good. Good. That’s good,” he repeated. He was like a damn broken record.

One you could play for hours and dance to and fall asleep to and—what the hell was wrong with you??

A couple hours later, Amelie was still asleep, just like the nurse said. You were still awake, holding her hand, staring at Tony who had fallen asleep on her other side.

He looked so peaceful, holding your little girl’s hand. You couldn’t say that he hadn’t aged a day since your tryst all those years ago. It had been nearly a decade; there had been changes. There were dark circles under his eyes, likely from the lack of sleep due to your baby’s condition, but more than that there was a permanent sallowness to the sockets. Like the rings had become etched into his skin. He had worry lines and laugh lines that showed he’d already lived a fuller life than most people would in twice the time he’d been on the earth.

And he was beautiful. Even more beautiful than the day you met and created Amelie.

Gd you were so fucked.

[shakespeareanqueer]

Ghost of Unprotected Sex Past Chapter 5 - Recovery

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader (formerly… and possibly future?? ;) ) // IronDad

Series summary: When your daughter gets sick, you finally have to tell Tony Stark he has a kid. How will he react? How will he get involved in your life?

Chapter summary: You move in temporarily to the tower to be closer to where Amelie is recovering. You starts your new job.

Word count: 1,267 words ✨ Series Masterlist | My Masterlist

Contents: Reader is a little jumpy. I may have cursed at some point. Tony and Reader squabble.

A/N: Sorry I’ve completely fallen off my posting schedule! Classes just started up, and I’m still working on getting into my personal time flow or whatever. Anywho, enjoy this update!

Tag list for this series is open; send me an ask!

Chapter 5 - Recovery

Photo by Jessica Lewis on Unsplash

✨

A job wasn’t the only piece of charity Tony talked you into accepting while you sat in Amelie’s recovery room. He also convinced you to temporarily move into the tower for the next few days while she was on bedrest. It really wasn’t fair the way he didn’t ask until your daughter was awake, framing it in such a way that you had no choice but to agree.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to be close while she’s healing? Just an elevator flight, instead of a whole drive? Then you might not be so tempted to sleep in that chair.”

“Yeah, Mom! You should do that!” Amelie had urged, trying to scoot up further in her bed. You had to herd her back down onto her back so she wouldn’t hurt herself.

That was extortion. That was manipulation. You’ve accepted way too much from Tony, and you’re starting to feel like you owe him something, which is the worst feeling you can imagine.

You absolutely refused to let Happy go back to your house to gather your things; you could do it yourself thank you very much. You could drive yourself, you could pack up your things, and you could drive back all on your own, no help required because you were a capable adult and not Tony Stark’s fucking charity case.

When Tony’s name showed up on your phone screen while you were zipping up your overnight bag, you almost spiraled into a panic attack because your brain convinced you something had happened to your daughter in your absence and you were the worst person in the entire world for abandoning her.

But everything was fine. She was fine, you were fine.  Tony just wanted to know what kind of pizza you wanted him to order for the three of you.

When you got back, you pulled him away from your daughter’s room and down the hallway to tear into him.

“You gave me a heart attack! Why couldn’t you just text me like a normal person?!”

He looked shocked but immediately retaliated. “It’s easier and faster to call? What are you, a teenager?”

“Doesn’t matter how old you are. In today’s world, people only call when it’s something serious!” you shouted. “My baby’s in the hospital and I thought something had gone wrong!”

Tony crossed his arms in front of him. “Well I offered to let Happy go to your apartment and get your things, then you wouldn’t have had to leave her side!”

You poked your finger in his stupid, goateed face. “Do not guilt trip me! I am perfectly capable of driving in my own car to my own home to get my own stuff!”

He threw his hands in the air. “Clearly not! Not without freaking out anyway!”

“Don’t put this on me!”

“It is on you!” he yelled. Then he grabbed your shoulders and lowered his voice slightly. “Look, I’m sorry, but it is on you. I didn’t do anything wrong. I have gotten much better at admitting when I’ve done something wrong, and I haven’t. I offered help. You declined. That’s fine. I made a phone call. That’s it! I’m sorry you were jumpy. I’m sorry you freaked out. But please stop yelling at me when for once in my life I didn’t do anything wrong.”

His voice cracked a little at the end of his monologue and you felt a pang of shame. You knew he felt guilty enough, about a lot of things (with super-heroism came super-responsibility, after all), and he did not need the added stress of you yelling at him over something so petty.

But your pride was stubborn. “Maybe I overreacted a little bit,” you mumbled, staring at the ground.

Tony sighed and released your shoulders. “I guess that’s as close to an apology as I’m getting,” he muttered. He immediately started striding back towards Amelie’s recovery room before you could be incensed to make a snarky comeback about how you had nothing to apologize for.

As soon as he turned the corner and was out of sight, your mind started racing. You hadn’t even started living here and you were already blowing up at Tony. How on Earth were you supposed to work with him all day, then live with him at night? He would be sleeping on a different floor but still. You were setting yourself up for disaster with the whole situation and the very thought was making it hard for you to breathe.

But all wrath immediately dissipated when you saw the look of pure joy on Amelie’s face as you stepped into her room. Tony was cutting up tiny chunks of pizza she could eat even with the healing surgery stitches on her abdomen. He’d gotten her favorite, from all the way across town.

Ok, fine, you had been overdramatic. You knew he was trying his best and, admittedly, his best was pretty damn great. You knew constantly offering the seemingly unlimited resources at his disposal was his way of trying to be helpful and he wasn’t attempting to slight you or suggest you weren’t capable. Logically you knew these things, but sometimes your emotions overtook you. You vowed then, for the sake of your Amelie, to do your best to avoid that.

✨

The next morning, you started at your new job. Just a few floors away from your baby girl. There was a live video feed you could turn on at any time to check on her, and the medical staff and FRIDAY had explicit instructions to alert you of any changes in her condition,

You cleared your throat as you looked at the unintelligible mess that was Tony’s calendar system. “Ok, this needs a complete overhaul,” you muttered.

“What’s wrong with it?” Tony sneered. You hadn’t noticed him leaning against the doorway. “Worked just fine for Pepper.”

“Yeah well I’m not Pepper ok!” you snapped.

You sighed and pinched your nose while he stiffened in the doorway, fists clenching at his sides. You were already grating on each other’s nerves and it was 9:10 in the morning.

“I am well aware of that,” you heard Tony grumble. You elected to ignore that to avoid another flare up.

“It’s just that my brain works a little differently than most people’s, ok?” you explained as calmly as you could. “I have ADHD, and since I’ve spent years working on it, I have learned a wealth of techniques that work for me to stay on top of things. But those techniques are what works for me and my ADHD brain, not others’.”

He nodded. “I can understand someone’s brain working differently than others’” he responded sagely.

That shocked you just a bit. You hadn’t thought about it that way, but Tony’s gifted nature was unparalleled, so it made sense he rarely found anyone whose brain function was similar to his. And he saw the connection to your description of your neurodivergence immediately.

Tony was more empathetic and sympathetic than you ever realized, than anyone who only knew him through a television screen or magazine covers could ever know, and that realization hit you like a freight train.

You caught yourself staring and began clicking away at the most high tech computer you’d ever encountered. You cleared your throat. “Is it ok if I take the morning to do that then?”  

“Of course,” he replied. “Take your time.” With your face buried in your briefcase, you missed how he watched you pull out your approximately six trillion colored pens with softness in his eyes before finally sweeping out of the room.