#marvel headcanon

[headcanonsfromavengerstower]

All versions of Peter Parker are intersex.

.

[anaviel]

Peter gains a reputation for being a very good interrogator. Some heroes even literally pass on perps to him, like, scruffs the guy and hands them to Spidey and leaves them be out of polite respect.

And Peter is here being so confused but still always instinctively accepts the criminal and thinking 'what do you mean by 'you know what to do, Spidey?' because no he doesn't know, so he looks at the guy (gender neutral) thinking very hard.

Not even a minute and they're spilling everything. The longer Spider-man stays silent, the closer they devolve into hysterics.

This happens every time without fail and feeds the whole 'Spidey is some professionally trained something' when he's really just a broke first year college student.

[not-so-normal-wh0re]

I got this idea randomly and I HAD to write it.

This whole story is heavily based on one of my ocs. Reader is described to be the son of the Grim Reaper.

Also,everyone can immagine whatever they want,but this is what I immagine the reader wearing + his makeup.

Thor x goth male reader (who wear dresses bc yes)

Tw: swearing,use of the word "faggot" (don't worry the bigot gets taught a lesson),verbal assault and somewhat phisical? ( a bigot spits on you,but again don't worry,he gets the ending he deserves)

He nearly chokes on his drink when he sees you. Like,literally.

You're a hero,a part of the Avengers. He had heard that you were the son of the Grim Reaper,and that you could summon an army of undead souls to fight for you. Sure,he did expect you to look kind of...dark? Given your family and powers but instead you just look...etheral.

He had seen many beautiful women and men in his life,but you were different. You looked like time had decided to freeze around you,creating a shield between you and time,making your beauty something eternal and untochable.

He of course approached you to say hi immediately,he obviously didn't just stare for a few minutes with a dumbfonded face until you politely waved at him...he did just that.

You two talk for a bit,and you're very different to what he expected you to be. He thought you'd be untochable and cold,like the beauty you are. Instead,you're kind and funny,laughing at his bad jokes and mindlessy twirling the sun umbrella you always have with you,even inside,over your shoulder.

He would later discover,during a battle,that's just your scythe disguised. You opened the umbrella,and made a cutting motion with it,and suddently,you had a scythe,at least an head taller than you,in your hand,and a black cloack with an hood that looked both solid and made of fog on. You had,with a firm tap of your weapon on the ground,summonded a legion of undead and lashed it out on the villain of the day.

In that moment,you looked far more divine than him. But then again,you always did.

He really wants to spar with you,but is too afraid to ask. He can feel that you're strong,but he never saw you actually fighting,you usually just used your summonded servants. But what if he accidentally goes too hard on you and hurts you? He doesn't want to risk ruining your beauty. No matter how strong and ethereal you are,he's a god and you're not.

After you two end up in a relationship,he's ecstatic. He never thought he actually had a chance with you,and now you're his boyfriend!

Constantly gives you gifts. He's the prince of Asgard,he's absolutely fucking rich. He could probably buy every single piece of goth clothing in the world with his pocket change,so don't you dare feel bad about him spending money on you.

You look at something for more than two and a half seconds? It's yours. He sees something that he thinks would look good on you? It's in your closet now. He won't even ask you or expect you to wear it,he just wants you to have it so that if you want to wear it,you can.

He will also write down your mesuraments on a piece of paper and carry it everywhere so that if he buys something for you,he's sure it's the right size.

Your makeup? He LOVES it. He never was and never will be be one of those people that say too much makeup is weird or unattractive or whatever. You're gorgeous no matter what,and if putting makeup on your face makes you feel good? He is gonna support that. Will definitely let you do his makeup too. He likes how close you get to apply it and might occasionaly go in for a kiss,resulting in you laughing and jokingly telling him to stay still or he's gonna ruin it. Gods,he love your laugh...he can't help but go in for another kiss.

Once you manage to finish the look,he's too stunned to speak. He loves it. It didn't look as good on him as it did on you,obviously,but now you two were matching! Has no problems going out like that either,and if anyone comments on it? He doesn't give half a shit. He's a god,of course he can go out matching makeup with his boyfriend.

But don't worry,he isn't with you just because of how you look. He loves you and cherish you for who you are. And if you have an hobby that you wanna share with him? He's absolutely gonna try it. You like sewing/crocheting/making your own clothes? Not only is he gonna buy you the best materials,he's also gonna try to make you something himself. He isn't very good at it,his hands are far too big for something this delicate,but he tries. His initial plan was to make you a full dress,but he ended up settling for a small bracelet. He was a bit embarassed about it,but forgot it as soon as he saw how your face lit up when you saw the accessory. Now he smiles everytime he sees you wear it. You like reading? He's taking you to Asgardia's library and you two stay there for hours,you reading book after book and he staring in awe at you,at how impossibly beatiful you are,all relaxed in the chair,a book in your lap and your ever-present sun umbrella lazily reating on your shoulder. If you're someone that likes to talk about the books you read,he could listen to you for hours. He will even read them if you ask him to,even if it will take him a while,and try to have a conversation about it with you. If he runs out of things to say,he just kisses you to distract you. If yoir hobby is drawing or art in general? Again,he gets you all the best supplies and could spend hours watching you creating your art,just adimiring you. Will also try to do it too. He isn't all that interested i art,but di you he will try. Your main hobby is just focusing on your look,clothes and makeup? He loves that. He loves how much you take care of yourself and how much time and passion you spend on expressing yourself trought your style. He might also let you dress him up if you want. He's secure in his masculinity,so he doesn't mind trying one of your dresses if they fit him. He doesn't really like it thought,so he will set for wearing his normal attire or something darker if you want to match. But honestly he prefers not to,he loves how the clothes look on you and prefers to see them on you more than on him. Will also let you do his makeup,as I already said. And will get the best Asgardian's tailors to make you new clothes. Only the best for his lover!

After overcoming the first wave of concern about sparring with you,he loves it. You're extremely strong and smart,and using your summoning powers you've even beat him a couple of times. He loves the challenge,and how close you two get when you're fighting.

I think Thor would be a protective lover,but in the right way and not the toxic one. Like,you can have all the friends you want,he trusts you 100%,he doesn't care how long you talk to other people as long as you're comfortable and isn't all that jelaous. He wouldn't have gotten with you if he didn't trust you. He only gets protective when you're actually getting attacked or uncomfortable. He knows you can handle yourself,but he still likes to swoop in to help. No matter if it's to protect you from an actual enemy attacking you or a creep/bigot making you uncomfortable when you go out in dresses,he will barge in to protect and comfort you. In the second case,he gets really angry.

Like,immagine,you two are out on a date,it's hot and he leaves a moment to go get you two icecream. You wait for him in your usual,stunning clothes,people glancing at you,a kid pointing to his parents towards you. You chuckle and wave at the little human,smiling,and they wave back entusiastically. You're similing warmly,the kid's kind behaviour warming your heart until a man,maybe in his mid fifties approaches you with a disgusted look on his face. He starts to complain about how "man really aren't the same as they used to be". "Men used to go to war" he spit out,looking you up and down with pure,unflitered hatred and disgust in his eyes "and now you look at you. You're a fucking joke,with your dresses and makeup and whatever. I bet you're also one of those queers,you fucking faggot. You don't deserve to be here,man fought and died and for what? For you to drees up and dishonor their memory?" He pratically yelled. You were gonna answer him,but before you could,he spitted on your face. Literally. For a moment,you were too stunned to speak,the irony of this man telling you about men going to war for yor freedom when you're literally an Avenger and the sheer disrespect freezing you in place. Before you can say anything,the men gets shoved on the ground,an extremely angry Thor glaring at him. Your lover goes for a punch,but you stop him before he can,knowing that a god's angry punch won't just knock the man out,but most likely knock his head from his body. "Love,stop please,let's just go away." You say,your breath slightly too fast. He hesitates for a moment before getting up,settling for a kick in the man's guts and a warning glare that screamed 'next time I won't be so kind.' You two leave and he offers you a pack of tissues to wipe off the man's spit from your face. It ruins your makeup a bit,so he pulls out some that he always keeps in his pocket and a small pocket mirror for you so you can fix it. You take it with a murmured thanks,but your hand are shaking too much for you to actually use. He sighs and wraps an arm around your shoulders,pulling you into his chest. "You should have let me beat him up. He deserved it." He murmurs,but he can't find it in himself to be angry at you right now. "You were too angry. You would have killed him." You respond,and he stays silent,not wanting to argue when you're so clearly distressed. He lets you calm down for homever long you need,and when you finally pull away from him,he fixes your makeup himself. It looks a bit weird,but you appreciate the gesture a lot. Now,when you two go out,he always tries to stay near you. Not in a suffocating way,more like in a "I'm here if you need me" way.

Or immagine another scenario. You're at one of Tony's parties,and since it's...well..Tony's party,you're wearing slightly more revealing clothes. Nothing crazy,just a more form fitting and slightly shorter dress,with a small slit on the right side to show off part of your thight. Yoy also went all out with the accessories and makeup,and you feel so good and confident. Of course,something bad was bound to happen. A guy,maybe in his mid thirties,approaches you and starts talking to you. You,being the kind person you are,start a conversation and agree when he offers you a drink. He starts to get a bit too flirty and touchy after a while,and you tell him,firmly but not unkindly,that you have a boyfriend and you aren't interested. When he doesn't stop,you get up to leave,but he grabs you from one of your necklackes while you're turned away,cutting off your air for a moment. You cough violently. You want to hit this guy,but you also don't want to risk causing some serious damage or even death. You always try to avoid fighting simple humans,you're way too strong for them and they're way too weak to handle it. So you just slap his hand away and try to leave again,faster this time. He grabs the hem of your dress and rips a piece of it,and the small split on the side now reaches your hip. Thank gods that you're wearing a belt or you would have flashed everyone at the party. You gasp and this time,you actually slap the guy. He screams as a couple of his theet give their last goodbye to his mouth and blood pours from his mouth. Everyone hears the commosion,and when he realizes you're involved,Thor makes his way trought the other people to see what happened. As he sees the guy bleeding,the angry red hand shaped mark on his cheek and you trying to keep your composure and the side of your dress toghether,he quickly catches on and goes to lead you away from the center of the attention. You two leave the party and you explain what happened. He's furious. Not at you,of course,but at the guy. He's also very happy that you finally stood up for yourself. He saw you take out armies of creatures and aliens to protect others,but you never try to protect yourself. You two end up watching your comfort show/movie and falling asleep cuddling.

Thor is very big on cuddling. He loves it,he loves all affection. This man is a goddamn Teddy Bear. Hug him whenever,sleep with your head in his lap if you're tired,lean on his shoulder,grab his hand while walking. This man LOVES it. He doesn't care if the others tease him for it,he will never,ever refuse affection from you. And he gives the best hugs.

He was raised to be a gentleman and he is. He buyes you gifts,pulls your chair when you're going to seat,gives you his jacket (or his cloack) if you're cold,or even if you're not,he will walk on the side of the sidewalk nearest the street and cover you if it's raining. He always carries some makeup and a pocket mirror in case you need to do a quick fix. He's the tipe to take you to shopping,buy you everything and then carrry every bag himself,even if there's like twelve of them,and saying something like "you're already carrying all that beauty,wouldn't want you to get tired" with the proudest,dumbest smile ever,and you can't help but laugh.

Another thing he loves? When people stop you to give you compliments or take a photo with you. He loves when you get complimented,he thinks you absolutely deserve it,and he will take the photos for the people who asked,if they wanna be i the picture with you.

He's such a sweetheart and so are you,everyone agress that you two are made for eachother.

I ABSOLUTELY LOVED WRITING THIS (you can tell by how long it is lol)

part 2 with nsfw headcanons? And reader and Thor going to Pride?

yes!!!!!!!!!!!

no.

just wanna see the results lol

Voting ended onDec 22, 2025

[mbrainspaz]

someone in a bar referring to Daredevil as "that vigilante with the double-D's on his chest" cut to matt murdock (four blocks away at home) with milk shooting out his nose.

[the-spideytorch-fanman]

The only tine Peter and Johnny went on vacation, Peter's apartment building caught fire, and the Baxter Building exploded within the same day, so they decided to have staycations instead.

[invesagener]

btw i totally headcanon Wakanda and Attilan/Afterlife Inhumans to be ancient besties because why wouldn't they be, early attempts to steal vibranium would explain how Howard Stark got his hands on it in The First Avenger and why Inhumans would think of hiding in the first place. note that the technology in Attilan is similar to the Wakandan border (I actually haven't seen Inhumans in full but I've seen the first episode which shows this) and the idea of seclusion works in the case of vocal minorities being in danger of being oppressed. In the Inhumans' case, their own went out of their borders to persuade people, which ended up with Alveus being dumped into Maveth by Inhumans and humans.

there's also the detail of the Guest's body (as in GH.325) being found in North Africa. this lowkey implies an Inhuman settlement nearby or not, who knows. one could say this alien dude was tasked to keep people away from Diviner crates, but either Reinhardt/Whitehall's goons killed the guy or Inhumans did. I'm inclined towards the latter since it would fuel his search further, and he only ended up with one Diviner from the last crate (see Agents of SHIELD season 2), implying the Inhumans got the rest.

or their isolation was just coincidence and they have nothing to do with each other, but it works for my world building and i like it.

[the-spideytorch-fanman]

Peter played competitive scrabble in high school and has several scrabble trophies.

[urdreamydoodles]

Hiii!! Love your work sooo muchh!!! (I keep rereading your marvel x reader fics cause you write the characters SO WELLL) picture this, Smart!F!reader who one ups Tony Stark publicly after getting tired of being labeled as a dumb good for nothing gold digger wife by the public. She reveals that she's the owner of a tech companty that makes even more than Stark Industries and most the money she gets she uses to donate to good causes and doesn't spend too much on things she wants ('Cause she's financially responsible unlike her husband.) AND GIRL HID THAT SECRET SO WELL EVEN TONY DIDNT KNOW ABOUT IT AND JUST STARES AT HER LIKE SHE SAID SOMETHING OFFENSIVE AF cause she reveals it while giving a speech at a Stark Industries events and then fast forward months later these 2 keep hacking into their systems and messing up their own shit but reader keeps winning the prank wars, the other avengers are fed up afff then at the end those mfs propose at the same time through hacking their A.I. assistants or firewall or literally everything. (you decide)

Oh and if possible make them into a 2 part so I can have a very beautiful chaotic ass prank war fanfic. (It's okay if you just stuff it into one part or if you can't do this☺☺)

"CODE OF FIRE, CODE OF LOVE" — A Tony Stark (MCU) One Shot

SHIP: Tony Stark (MCU) x Fem!OC

WORDS: 2.280 words

There are whispers in the room, louder than the music. Soft champagne flutes clinking, camera flashes chasing diamonds, laughter strained through painted lips—all of it sounds like static to you now. You stand at the edge of the Stark Industries gala, poised in a dress that fits like it was sewn onto your very soul. Beautiful. Effortlessly so. But beauty, as you’ve learned, is a mask people love to talk to, and even more love to talk about.

Tonight, they’ve talked plenty. And not about the advancements Stark Industries made in clean energy. Not about the AI breakthroughs or the global humanitarian branches Tony fought tooth and nail to build.

No.

Tonight, the whispers are about you.

“She must be really good in bed.”

“A gold digger. You can see it in the way she moves—like she knows she’s lucky.”

“She hasn’t earned any of this. Look at her, just a trophy.”

You’ve heard these words since the moment you said “I do” to Tony Stark. The man you love. The man who sees stars in your eyes and not dollar signs. The man who never once questioned your worth. But that doesn’t mean the world hasn’t.

It’s funny. You built empires in silence. With elegance. With restraint. You could have bought this tower ten times over. But you didn’t. Because it was never about the spotlight. Never about ego.

You just wanted peace.

But peace has a price.

And tonight, the bill has come due.

You glance at Tony across the room. He’s radiant in his usual way—hands stuffed in his pockets, that crooked smirk playing on his lips as he listens to a board member, probably pretending to care. His suit is razor-sharp, just like his mind. You love the way his eyes search for you every few minutes like a compass needle always twitching toward North. You love him more than you’ve ever loved anything. He is chaos wrapped in genius, a hurricane who learned to anchor himself to your quiet gravity.

And he doesn’t know.

Not yet.

He doesn’t know that every night he thought you were working on charity audits or reading economic forecasts… you were engineering satellites, designing next-gen medical nanotech, running covert cybersecurity networks that governments begged for. He doesn’t know that while he bled in the spotlight, you bled in the dark—never for praise. Only for purpose.

You’d never planned to tell him. Not because you didn’t trust him, but because you wanted something that was yours. Untouched by legacy or expectation. Untouched by Stark.

But the whispers tonight? They’ve lit something inside you.

And fire does not go quietly.

Pepper’s on stage now, offering polite smiles and practiced words. You tune out most of it until she turns her head toward you and says brightly, “And now, we’d love to invite someone very special up here to say a few words—Y/N Stark.”

There it is.

You step forward as the spotlight finds you. The murmurs double. The cameras rise. You move like a ghost in heels—elegant, silent, unstoppable.

Tony’s watching you now, arms crossed, brow quirked. He’s curious. Maybe a little amused. He loves when you speak publicly—it surprises him every time. He still doesn’t know why you keep such a low profile. That’s just how you are, he tells himself. Shy genius. Private soul.

You reach the podium. The mic crackles.

You look out over the crowd. Old money. New vultures. Entitled smiles. Sneers disguised as curiosity. Your gaze slides past them all and lands on Tony. He raises his glass to you, winks. You don’t smile back.

You inhale.

Then you speak.

“I’ve been asked a lot of questions since marrying Tony Stark. Some polite. Most… not.” A ripple of laughter, awkward and thin.

You continue. “People want to know what I bring to the table. If I’m smart enough, good enough, worthy enough. They ask how a ‘nobody’ like me caught the eye of a genius like him.”

You pause.

“Let me answer.”

The silence now is full and deep. A vacuum. They’re listening.

“I am the founder and sole owner of Aurelius Technologies. You haven’t heard of it because I didn’t want you to. We operate under a portfolio of silent subsidiaries that have collectively out-earned Stark Industries for the last five years running.”

Gasps. Real ones. Sharp as glass.

Tony’s smile is frozen, faltering.

“I built it before I met Tony. While living in a shared apartment, eating instant noodles, working twenty-hour days. I coded my first AI at nineteen. I designed medical drones that saved lives in war zones. I developed green tech that corporations tried to bury because it was too efficient. And I gave it away. Because I could.”

Eyes. All on you. The women are shocked. The men are unsettled.

“I didn’t advertise any of it. Because my worth doesn’t live in headlines. Or stock prices. Or applause. I donated most of what I made. Quietly. Because power isn’t about what you keep. It’s about what you give.”

Your voice sharpens. Just enough.

“And I didn’t tell anyone—not even my husband—because I wanted a life that wasn’t measured by what I could build, but who I could be.”

Now you look at Tony.

Really look.

He is not blinking.

Not breathing.

“I never wanted to outshine him. But I won’t let people pretend I live in his shadow. I didn’t marry Tony for his money. I married him for the way he believes in things even when no one else does. I married him because his heart is louder than his genius.”

A beat.

“And, frankly, because he’s hot.”

Laughter breaks the tension. Some real. Some still stunned.

You smile now, but only at him.

“I don’t need your approval,” you finish, gaze sweeping the crowd again. “I just needed to say it out loud. For the women who’ve been underestimated. For the men who think brilliance wears only one face. And for myself.”

A pause. Breath. Silence.

Then, applause.

Not polite. Not obligatory. Thunderous.

You step down from the stage.

Tony is still standing there. Still staring. Glass forgotten in his hand. His jaw a fraction open like you just told him he was adopted.

You approach.

“I—” he starts, but stops.

“Surprise,” you say softly.

“You’re Aurelius?” he breathes, like it’s a curse and a prayer.

You nod.

He laughs. Then blinks. Then pulls you into him so fast your feet barely touch the ground.

“You incredible, devious, stunning son of a—” he whispers into your hair. “You really played me.”

You pull back just enough to look into his eyes. “I didn’t play you, Tony. I just didn’t want to be this for the world. I wanted to be me for you.”

His hands cup your face. “You are everything. Everything. Do you know what it’s like to fall in love with someone twice? Because I think I just did.”

You kiss him. Because no words will do now.

And somewhere behind you, the room watches the man who thought he knew everything… be utterly, beautifully, publicly humbled.

And love you even more for it.

It started with a line of code.

Tony should have known better.

You were the ghost in the machine long before you were the girl in his bed, the wife in his heart, the name inked beneath his ribs whether he liked it or not. He had underestimated you once. He would never do it again.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to beat you.

He thought he was clever, writing subroutines into your shared home AI. Thought you wouldn’t notice the nanosecond hiccup in F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice when she called you “Sweetheart” in his tone of voice. Thought you wouldn’t catch the thermal resync that cranked your morning coffee from pleasantly scalding to napalm.

You noticed.

And you retaliated.

The Stark Tower elevators began skipping his floor. His suits would snap shut an inch too tight. His toothbrush sang Bye Bye Bye in perfect sync every morning—until he learned to stop flinching.

You, however, didn’t stop.

You rewrote the sound files of his lab assistant bots. Dum-E began reciting Pride and Prejudice. Butterfingers played Oprah podcasts. U stopped obeying Tony entirely, instead pausing at inconvenient intervals to display curated Pinterest boards titled “Gift Ideas for Your Superior Wife.”

Tony called it cyberbullying.

You called it foreplay.

“War,” he declared one night, his bare chest glowing with the arc reactor’s quiet rhythm. “Total war. You understand this means we can never trust our devices again.”

You took the glass from his hand, sipped, and smirked. “You built them. I just reprogrammed them not to lie to us.”

Pepper caught wind of the chaos when her Friday meetings kept getting overrun by erotic text-to-speech haikus read in her own voice. Steve’s training programs glitched into pastel yoga flows. Natasha’s phone screen blinked with flirtatious offers from “Anonymous Admires You: Buy a Flamethrower on Etsy.” Bruce threatened to move back into the jungle. Sam nearly threw your shared AI out the window.

“STOP,” they all chorused at dinner one night, mid-explosion of Tony’s wine glass—sabotaged with a microscopic vibration hack you’d implanted via a birthday card.

“Stop what?” you and Tony said in sync, both utterly deadpan.

“YOU TWO,” Steve barked. “You’ve got a Cold War going on inside our entire system. My bank account’s been rerouting deposits to an alpaca rescue in Montana.”

“Yeah,” Clint muttered. “Thanks for that. I lost five grand.”

Tony sipped his wine from a coffee mug, smug. “Should’ve updated your firewall, Legolas.”

“It’s not funny,” Natasha said, exasperated, but her eyes flickered with reluctant amusement. “You two are weaponizing love. And Wi-Fi.”

“We’re not weaponizing love,” you replied coolly. “We’re just expressing it.”

“In code,” Tony added. “Beautiful, chaotic, bug-laced code.”

Sam pointed a fork at you both. “We are one hijacked satellite away from an international incident.”

You and Tony fist-bumped beneath the table.

But there was something deeper in it now.

Something that danced just beneath the teasing and the trickery.

Tony watched you across rooms like he was trying to map every galaxy in your gaze. He would touch your back like it anchored him. You’d catch his code open at 3AM—not for the arc reactor, not for the suits—but for you. New tech shaped like your laugh, new designs named after your heartbeat, new languages bent around the way you spoke truth.

You, too, found yourself checking your scripts not once but ten times—just to make sure they said enough. Said everything.

And then one night, it happened.

You walked into the lab, hair pulled up, eyes sharp, wearing his shirt. A normal evening, until everything went wrong.

Or right.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. flickered.

“Good evening, Mrs. Stark,” she said, a little too smoothly. “You have two hundred and seventy new system alerts. And one... emotional one.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Tony?”

No answer.

You moved to the console.

And that’s when everything began.

Every screen lit up—lab, kitchen, hallway, garage—every surface Tony had ever laid his hands on pulsed to life.

Your code. Your encryption. Overwritten.

But only for this.

On every screen:

"Marriage v1.0: Successful. Proposal v2.0: Pending Approval."

Your heart stuttered.

Then came the voices.

Not Tony’s.

Yours.

Clips from your past. From private logs you didn’t know he had access to. Voice memos you made to yourself, fragments of code-comment love letters.

“He looks at me like I’m the only thing worth breaking the universe for.”

“I never wanted a crown. I just wanted his chaos in my quiet.”

“If he asked again, I’d say yes every lifetime.”

You covered your mouth with your hand.

And then his voice cut in.

“Y/N.”

You turned.

He stood in the doorway.

No suit. No armor. Just Tony. Barefoot, beautiful, and terrified.

“I wanted to do it differently,” he said. “Bigger. Fancier. Less... hostile takeover of your AI. But this? This is us. Messy. Coded. Personal.”

You tried to speak. Couldn't.

“I didn’t know you when I married you,” he continued. “Not all the way. I loved what I saw. But I didn’t see the half of you. Now I do. And I’m not proposing to fix something. I’m proposing because I want to celebrate it.”

He stepped closer.

“Let’s do this again. This time knowing every part. The fire. The firewalls. The madness. The marriage.”

He held out a small device.

A nano-holo ring. Not tangible. Just light. Code. A symbol you could rewrite together, again and again.

The room shimmered.

Another screen lit behind him.

“RENEWAL REQUESTED: TONY STARK TO Y/N STARK. CONFIRM?”

You looked at him.

“You hacked my firewalls for this?”

He grinned. “Took me three months. I haven’t slept. I’m delirious. Marry me again before I pass out.”

You pressed your thumb to the console.

“CONFIRMED.”

Then your voice rang out from his AI.

Every Stark suit paused mid-hover. Every bot froze. Every file opened.

“Tony Stark, I hereby override your protocols and accept your second proposal. Effective immediately. You may now kiss your better half.”

His laughter was pure sunlight.

He crossed the space, kissed you like the first time all over again.

And maybe it was.

The others would scream when they saw what you two had done to the base code. Fury would probably explode. Rhodey would call you both lunatics. Pepper would sigh with a glass of wine and send the Avengers to dinner on another continent just to give you space.

But right now?

Right now you were two halves of the same encrypted flame.

Married again.

Code rewritten.

Love, rebooted.