Imagine you're a sheltered woman from New York in the 1850s. By the time you're a young lady both your parents are dead, so you have no choice but to leave your cushy little family home, get on a train and meet your only living relative. You're kind of useless, bookish and naive. You've never experienced anything but comfort. Your uncle tells you he doesn't want you around, but as a woman you can't do much on your own, and what could you do? You're as helpless as a lamb.
Your uncle betroths you to a man in Oregon, and ships you off to travel the oregon trail with all your treasure (jewelry, bonds, antiques, etc). The only thing is that he can't just send you on your own- you've only been in the real world the past few days to travel to him!!! You've been an anxious little hermit, and who's gonna carry your trunk full of romance books?
Your uncle hires security company 141 to escort you through the grueling journey, and you're none the wiser that company 141 doesn't exist, but outlaw gang Ghost team does...
Anyways I neeeeeeed more western and cowboy 141 and I've been playing rdr2 lately soo
This could work for any of the boys :')
Gaz who's just like your fairytale men. Kind, considerate, kisses your hand. He gives you a little extra bacon in the morning when you whine and picks wildflowers for you when he sees a pretty one (like you). You're defenseless against his charms.
Price who's...... the embodiment of your daddy issues. Spoiler? But you grew up so sheltered because your dad believed your family was cursed, and made you scared to be in the world. Price is so big and solid and comforting, older and bearlike... you definitely could call him daddy :')
Johnny who's got you flustered and blushing the entire way, even when you're miserable, when you're beyond travel weary. He's carefree about touch and space, and for someone who grew up locked in a single space for so long, you're like putty at the simplest touches from him
Simon's a wildcard. He wears a bandana, which makes everyone but the company nervous, and he's always riding off. You rarely see him, but you're mesmerized by his pale eyes and pale lashes, his scars and his story. He kind of hates you for how you don't seem to know like... anything. He let's the others care for you, counting the days until they can meet up with Kate and abandon you for dead with all your ma and pas jewelry and valuables and onto the next robbery... unless (0)o(0)
Also the guy you're meant to marry is graves LOL. Your family is deep in the railway industry and filthy rich and graves is buying up land and planting vineyards. Hes getting rich off of wine :') that's the story in my head
Plsss forgive me if this has already been written!!! I had a dream about it and I couldn't remember if it was something I'd read, or something I thought up. I looked around tumblr and ao3 for anything but couldn't find anything. Pleaseeeeee contact me if its your idea, I'm terrified of accidentally plagiarizing lol
So This is Love || Civil War 13: “Self-Cooking Hot Dogs”
“So This is Love” Masterlist
Previous Chapter || Next Chapter (Coming Soon)
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Captain America: Civil War
"To generate, disseminate and preserve knowledge. And work with others to bring it to bear on the world's great challenges..."
The sparkle in my eyes couldn't be more apparent as I recited the statement alongside the mass group of students and professors in the auditorium.
I stood backstage, watching through the small gap in the curtains, as I wasn't allowed to show my face to anyone besides the select staff members.
"Well, you are the others. And quiet as it's kept, the challenges facing you are the greatest man kind had ever known." My dad was standing dead centre of the stage, giving his speech, where each word was provided by a teleprompter only visible to himself.
MIT... My dream.
I would've been in my third year there if I hadn't struggled so hard with Aeronautics.
But I'd be starting my first year in September and with the exhausting amount of preparation my dad put me through the past year, I passed the test with flying colours...
"Plus, most of you are broke."
Laughter came from the crowd.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Rather, you were."
Okay, well. Exhausting preparation and a comically large hypothetical check.
"As of this moment... Every student has been made an equal recipient of the inaugural September Foundation Grant. As in..." Pause for dramatic effect...
"All of your projects have just been approved and funded."
A round of applause from the students.
"Absurd."
I turned to the man who spoke next to me. A tall, skinny man in a black turtleneck with the ugliest, nastiest look on his face directed at the back of my father's head.
"Dude, you're kinda ruining my vibe here-"
"This was mine. All my hard work. And he makes a fool out of me. How can he stand there without a care in the world like he hadn't just taken credit for and mocked my life's work in front of all these people? BARF? Look at him! A pathetic man like him shouldn't take geniuses like me for granted," he spat every word like it was poison.
"You work for my dad?" I asked monotonously.
The scowl on his face disappeared when he looked at me with a bit of shock. "You're Y/N Stark?" He asked so casually. As if he wasn't just insulting my father to my face. "My name is Quentin B-"
"Yeah... I'm sorry, I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. Especially those who talk shit about my dad and his work," I waved my hands up in defence, turning to walk away when his hand got hold of my forearm. My head snapped back at him, chills running up my spine as the hairs on my arm stood up from the strange fear I suddenly felt around this man.
"You think you can help me out?" He asked like he wasn't just insulting my father a second ago.
"What?" I scrunched my nose, attempting to pull my arm away, but his grip was iron and my wrist was starting to ache.
"Put in a good word? Convince him my project is worth the care? Convince him to reimagine its purpose in the way I intended it! And for God's sake, give me the credit I deserve!"
"Please, let go of me," I said, trying to sound calm when in reality everything about this screamed danger.
"He'll listen to you. You're his little girl. He'll do it."
"Please stop!" I finally managed to claw his hand off of my arm and shove him back. "Don't ever come near me again," I warned with a shaky voice.
Before he could call out to me, I booked it, rounding the back of the stage to the other end just in time to see my dad being bombarded by the Dean rambling.
I took a moment to hold my hand over my chest, breathing heavily and shakily as I gently rubbed the part of my wrist he held.
Whoever the hell that psycho was, I hoped what he said wasn't true.
From what I was aware, that project was meant to act as some kind of therapy for my dad.
The idea of him stealing some guy's idea and passing it off as his own made me sick to my stomach.
I thought back to when he was first showing it to me. It was his way of introducing me to my late grandparents.
"They would've loved you," I remember him saying.
Sick. Absolutely sick. I refused to believe it. Why should I? He could've been lying to get me to talk about him with Tony Stark. That guy probably didn't even work for him.
My intrusive, distressing thoughts came to an end when I heard the conversation between my dad and the Dean.
Well, the one-sided conversation the bald guy was having with Tony.
"Hear me out, I got this killer idea for a self-cooking hot dog-"
My dad's eyes landed on my approaching figure and got hold of me, only to push me between him and the blabbermouth.
I took the hint and pulled the Dean aside while my dad spoke to another staff member.
"We'll catch up later!" He said to Tony as I dragged him away.
"Hi, my name is Y/N Stark. Tony's daughter. It's very nice to meet you, sir. Say, what's this about a self-cooking hot dog? Maybe I could pitch it to the old man," I gave my best fake smile and the most chipper attitude I could muster as the guy in front of me beamed.
"Oh, why, it's very nice to meet you, Miss Stark. As you're aware, I'm the Dean around here. I actually have a lot of questions. Like, why were you hidden away for 15 years? Do you know what a pedicab is? Because let me tell you, I know a great guy who can hook you up, and maybe I could-"
"Get on with it," I shook my head when I realised my dad was already gone.
"Right. Hot dog. Basically a chemical detonator embedded-"
"Say, why don't you e-mail me, huh? Here's my card," I smiled even wider, plucking out the random business card I grabbed in the lobby and placing it face-down in the palm of his hand.
"Oh, wow! You just gave me your number. There are so many things I want to discuss with you and your dear old dad."
"Yeah, yeah. I gotta go," I jerked back, going to move when I noticed something and stopped myself. "You look very familiar." I pointed out.
"How so?" He asked, tilting his chin up to the side.
"Probably just look like some character... I watch way too much TV," I shrugged and left to go after my dad.
"Wait! Which chara- Miss Stark! Which character?!"
● ◉ ◎ ◈ ◎ ◉ ●
"Dad!" He was standing in front of an elevator down the hall when I found him. There was a woman who eyed me before saying something to my father and walking away.
"Hey," I greeted as I approached. "Oh my God, who was that guy?" I chuckled. "I know you don't want me throwing around my name like that to just anyone, but I'm really reconsidering that self-cooking Hot dog idea. Sounds like a million dollar investment."
The smile on my face faded when I noticed the dread on my dad's face.
"What happened? Who was the lady?" I asked, glancing down the hall to where the lady disappeared.
He seemed to be deep in his thoughts. But his face only showed horror the longer he looked at me.
"What?" I asked before I was abruptly brought into an embrace.
"I love you," he whispered into the top of my head, planting a kiss in the same spot.
The sudden impetuous affection ceased my working mind, clearing my head of any thoughts as I tried to digest the action.
Whatever he was talking about with that lady made me wonder what exactly was going through his head at that moment.
I decided against trying to come up with an answer for receiving unprompted affection from my dad, and wrapped my arms around him.
The car slowed as it drove up the ornate curved drive of a huge brick mansion, lit up by several lights quickly being covered by the snow. It was the centerpiece of a sprawling manicured landscape dotted with trees, flower beds, and topiaries enshrouded by shadows.
Dyson brought the car to a halt, grinning at you over his shoulder as he parked.
“What do you think?”
“Does it matter?” you bit back.
Dyson turned back to shut off the engine, his exhale a huff of frustration.
“It does,” he said carefully. “This is your home now.”
You sullenly stared out the window you were huddled against. “No, it’s not.”
“Listen,” Dyson turned and paused until you met his gaze. “You’re a good girl. You’re a smart girl. And a smart girl would be looking at the big picture right now. Your father, God rest his soul, is gone now. You’ve got no one else.”
“I should have my father’s estate and my freedom,” you said bitterly.
“And you’ll get that,” he explained. “Once you’re married to Steve.”
“Liar.”
Dyson quirked a salt and pepper brow at you.
“I’m not going to be free.” The tears were coming. “I’m never going to be free. I’m going to be here, a bird in her cage.”
“Don’t be like that,” Dyson’s tone softened. “Steve’s not the villain I think you made him in your head. He’s a good man.”
“He’s a good crime boss.”
“He’s that too.” Dyson didn’t take the bait. “All you have to do is make him happy. That’s all. That doesn’t sound so bad, right? Be his little wife, have a couple of kids. You’ll never want for anything. You won’t have to work a job. You’ll be safe.”
You snorted. “Until he gets arrested. Or killed. Then what happens to me?”
Dyson tapped a finger to his temple. “See? Smart. Once you know Steve better, you’ll realize that nothing’s going to happen to him. No one is going to get to him.”
That’s what every man of power thinks.
“And you might as well know now that Steve… is a man with strong appetites,” Dyson said diplomatically. “He’ll have other women on the side and that will take some pressure off you, right? You just turn a blind eye, work on your hobbies, raise the kids. It will all work out. You’ll see.”
You could tell the older man was fighting not to laugh at what must have been an incredulous look on your face.
“You do know it’s 2021, right?” you finally managed to ask. “It’s not the 50s or 60s. Jesus…”
On top of being forced to marry a man who terrified you because you apparently had no other options, you would have to tolerate mistresses?
“Maybe not, but it’s the way things are,” he continued. “In time, you’ll come to appreciate it.”
“Or get an STD,” you shot back in a shaking voice, tears just starting to spill from your eyes.
A flash of panic crossed Dyson’s face. One thing you’d learned early on. The man would literally do anything to appease you once you started to cry.
“Princess, this is going to happen regardless of what you think you want,” Dyson explained slowly. “You can make it a good experience and just count your blessings. You have a lot to gain in being Steve’s wife you know. He needs you. This marriage will solidify his position. It’s a win-win.”
Well, didn’t you feel valuable?
“If you get on his bad side?” Dyson continued meaningfully, “You could end up so miserable this will seem like a happy memory. What’s it going to be?”
A light flashed on in the corner of your eye and you saw the front door was open now, Steve silhouetted in the doorway of the mansion that was to become your prison.
Your mind spun as you took a deep calming breath.
“He’s waiting,” Dyson said before opening the door and climbing out of the driver’s seat.
Your eyes scanned the grounds around the massive home. It was snowing heavily now, and you could only see lights from other homes far in the distance. And it was cold. The glass of the window at your shoulder was frosted around the edges.
When Steve descended the stairs, your sped heart up. In fear? In trepidation? A beat later, your door opened, and Steve held out a hand to you to help you out of the backseat.
Why did it feel like if you took his hand your fate was sealed?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The newest chapter of a reader-insert x Haws fanfic. Title taken from the lyrics of Purity Ring’s Fineshrine. The song does not match the chapter, though.
So This is Love || Age of Ultron 12: “Neoma's Debut ”
“So This is Love” Masterlist
Previous Chapter || Next Chapter (Civil War)
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The sight of the Helicarrier made me forget about my numbing body. A glimmer of hope arose within me, and I forgot about their previous plan to blow themselves up.
All that mattered now was getting these civilians to safety.
"This way! Careful!"
Family after family ran past me as my eyes frantically scanned the area. But the panic in me kept me from tracking how many people I'd let in.
We couldn't leave anyone behind.
Not one.
When a lifeboat was filled, we guide them to the next and so on.
"Neoma, status update."
I tapped my visor. "So far, we're in the clear," I responded to my dad.
"Roger-... Crap."
Comms went static.
"Stark senior?" I paused.
"Dad?"
Nothing.
Then suddenly, a loud explosion sounded off and everyone around me started panicking.
The town square quickly turned into pandemonium.
I turned to the source of the blast and spotted my dad zooming into the sky towards a falling lifeboat.
One of its thrusters had been taken out by a mini Ultron.
Iron Man closed in on the boat, ready to catch it, when an Ultron bot cut him off, tackling him away.
"Fuck!"
On instinct, I ran for the edge of the floating island and threw my arms back, launching myself up into the air and to the boat.
The wind roaring in my ears couldn't drown out the screams of the passengers.
When I got close enough, I put my arms out to my sides and pushed, forming the same bubble I always had. Letting out a whine, I tried to push further, managing to catch half the boat with the other half still dangling out.
It was starting to hurt. My arms were shaking as I forced myself to keep going, keeping the bubble as stable as I possibly could.
The frazzled screams of the passengers were the only thing keeping me from dropping the boat.
I felt like I was choking on air.
But, I wasn't done yet. Half the ship was still weighing me down, and I had to keep going, keep pushing.
I let out a strained yell, pushing the bubble to grow bigger and bigger until it enclosed the entire boat, keeping it completely stable while I waited for my dad to get back up on his feet.
It was pure torture. My brain was growing fuzzy, and I could taste the blood dripping from my nose and onto my tongue.
I might as well have been shot in the spine at this point.
I wanted to let go.
I wanted to give up and end my suffering.
This pain... It made me want to die.
"Jesus Christ!"
I was too far gone to focus on the voices coming from comms. All I could hear was my own heavy breathing and the sudden silence from the boat I had within my bubble.
"Hang on just a little longer, Peanut!"
I cried out in pure agony as my body started to burn up.
"Let go, Neoma!"
Without any hesitation, I dropped my arms and allowed myself to fall.
In the corner of my eye —and through small gaps in my hair—, my dad had caught the boat right as the bubble dispersed.
My vision darkened while I continued to fall.
● ◉ ◎ ◈ ◎ ◉ ●
"Come on, kid, wake up. Dammit!"
My ears twitched as the echoey sound of Steve's voice stirred me awake.
I rapidly blinked my eyes open, only to squeeze them shut at the bright beam of sunlight.
Someone took my visor off.
My whole suit had been retracted into the silver slip around my neck.
I couldn't feel my arms and legs, and the metallic taste of blood was still present on my tongue.
"Hey. There you are," Steve put a hand on my cheek soothingly. "It's okay, kid. Relax."
"Everything hurts," I managed to murmur under my breath.
"I know, I know."
"Am I... dead?" I felt like the more I spoke, the quieter my voice got.
"We're on a lifeboat, Y/N. Everyone got off safely. Most of them because of you. You're a lifesaver, kid."
I get that he was trying to make me feel better, but I wasn't absorbing his words in that state. I couldn't even open my eyes properly. I don't think I could even breathe.
"Where's... Dad?" I asked.
"He's... Well-"
A huge blast shook the boat for a moment as if on cue.
My eyes snapped open, and I started breathing heavily, hyperventilating from exhaustion and panic as I tried to sit up in vain.
"Hey, hey, hey! Stay down! Your vitals are beyond abnormal!"
His words were white noise to me as I continued to panic, trying to push myself up off the floor.
From the corner of my eye, I could see the edge of the boat where smoke and the debris of the demolished island came raining down. Into the ocean below us most likely.
I panted and finally got myself up, stumbling and losing balance as my knees shook and trembled. I frantically searched the skies for any sign of my father or Thor flying around.
With shaky hands, I quickly reached into my pocket and found my visor, putting it on and scanning the area.
I tried comms, but I couldn't hear anyone.
I tried to move closer to the edge to jump off, but Steve's hand got hold of my arms, effortlessly picking me up and moving us away from the edge. "You push yourself any further, you're down."
He totally meant death...
I was completely useless at this point.
I was just some kid in her pyjamas and a visor, too weak to stand on her own.
It was suddenly quiet and I started to relax, allowing my eyes to close and my body to relax as Steve kept me in his arms like I was a child again.
"Hey, Peanut."
My eyes snapped open and I reached up to tap my visor. "Dad?"
"Good work out there."
"Wow..." I sighed, relieved to hear his voice.
"You played a big part in our victory today, Y/N. I'm proud of you. I'll see you on the ground."
Comms clicked off.
Finally.
I made my dad proud.
"Wait..." I mutter and look up at Steve.
"You won?" I asked.
The man smiled down at me, adjusting his arms to keep me from falling.
"We did, Neoma."
We did.
We won.
I'm part of the team.
The moment the lifeboat landed on the Helicarrier, I fell from Steve's arms and ran to my dad, colliding with him in a hug.
I hissed when I crashed into his metal suit, causing him to laugh. "I can't believe that's the stupidest thing you did today."
"That was so cool," I tilted my head up.
His metal hand gently patted my back.
After my outburst, my adrenaline faded and I felt my body shaking again. "I'm gonna pass out now."
● ◉ ◎ ◈ ◎ ◉ ●
"I'll carry you back."
"Okay." With that, I let myself go.
I was forced to stay in a hospital for a few weeks to recover and was so graciously visited by my dad every once in a blue moon with a tub of ice cream and a tail of paparazzi.
I don't know what exactly he used as an excuse to explain the fact that his daughter just so happened to be hospitalised right after the Avengers were in a battle in Sokovia.
But I believe that he told them that I downed a bottle of bleach after I walked in on... Something.
"Sure are a lot of trees," I commented with a soft giggle, looking down at the holographic image of the new Avengers compound from my hospital bed, the cookie dough ice cream tub sitting on my lap.
"Isn't that what you wanted, Rapunzel?"
"This isn't exactly a cozy little house but you got the prairie part down," I shook my head, handing him back the tablet and picking up the tub to stuff cookie dough into my mouth.
"There's just no satisfying you, is there?" My dad sighed teasingly as he tapped away at the tablet.
"Oh, I'm pretty satisfied. I think the only thing left is for me to go to school," I shrugged.
"Yeah?" My dad spared a glance. "MIT, right?"
"Yeah. Just like you."
"Well, my dad did get me an interview there... And since you're just like me..." He trailed off.
I jumped in excitement and practically screamed. "You got me an interview at MIT?!" My dad quickly reached out to catch the ice cream tub that I threw into the air at my sudden outburst. "... Sorry."
He sighed and shook his head, putting the tub on the nightstand next to my bed.
"I'm not comfortable with you staying in Massachusetts, so we'll try to come up with a compromise for the commute."
"Holy shit! Dad, you're the best!" I laughed excitedly, making sure to keep my excitement better contained this time.
"I've been waiting my whole life to hear those words."
I purse my lips, smiling as I nervously fiddle with my fingers.
"What?" My dad put the tablet down, noticing my antics.
"Did I... Was I..." I pause, gathering my thoughts to form into words. "Did I do good in Sokovia?"
He sighed and sat on the edge of my bed, reaching up to gently run his fingers through my hair, his voice shifting into something softer.
"You were beyond exceptional, Peanut. I can't express how proud I am of you. Albeit, I was scared to death, and you have a very inconvenient weakness... But... You proved yourself to be strong enough to handle it."
"Thank you for this," I mumbled, smiling genuinely. No hint of mischief or mockery. Just absolute sincerity and gratitude.
"What?" He asked.
"Putting up with me. And for letting me do this," I leaned forward, doing little grabby hands.
My dad scooted forward to wrap his arms around me, kissing the top of my head. "If I'm being honest, your persistence and stubbornness are your best qualities. Especially as a future Avenger."
I pulled away and looked up into his eyes with pure disbelief. "Holy shit-"
"Don't swear."
"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" I exclaimed, jumping in excitement in my spot on the bed. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
My dad sighed. "Not yet. You're still very new to this. But with the proper training-"
"I will not let you down, Dad!" I jumped with my arms in the air before lunging forward for another hug. "Thank you."
So This is Love || Age of Ultron 1: “Prematurely Powerless”
“So This is Love” Masterlist
Important Notes || Next Chapter
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Most of Stark Industries' employees would take one look at me and think I was living the best life.
Having Tony Stark as a dad, residing at the top of Avengers Tower, living in the lap of luxury, and having a guaranteed plan to graduate College by the age of seventeen…
But none of them knew that the one main con of having all that is the dread that engulfed me whenever the Avengers were out on a mission.
There was only one thing worse than having to sit patiently while the Avengers were out risking their lives for our safety.
That was knowing my father was out there with them.
What's even worse was the anxiety I felt every time he said goodbye, hugging me like it would be the last time he ever did. It triggered the dread I felt of not knowing whether he was coming home to me.
It started when I was ten, sitting through my dad's disappearance before he returned with a battery for a heart with the excuse of being half robot sent me spiralling.
And after what happened three years ago with Loki, things have only got more dangerous for the team. Meaning that I've grown more protective of my father.
So when he told me they'd be looking for the location of Loki's old staff, I didn't hesitate to grab hold of his legs and cling to him until he agreed to stay behind and let the rest of the team raid the Hydra base to get themselves killed… Presumably.
But it was to no avail, as he easily dragged his foot along the helipad, shaking me off with a single thrust of his foot into the air each time.
This led me to where I was, pacing around the tower for hours, pulling on the roots of my hair and cursing at my inability to help.
Being literally powerless was the most inconvenient thing about being Iron Man's kid.
I couldn't wait any longer. How long had it been?
Did they say they'd be back soon?
What did they mean by soon?
A few hours?
The next day?
A month?
It was too much…
Luckily, before I could scratch the skin off my scalp, the sound of Jarvis' voice echoed from my computer to my earpiece.
"Miss Stark, they're landing soon."
"How soon?" I asked, not realising the obvious panic in my voice.
"Circling the tower as we speak."
I was out of that room without a second thought.
My bare feet leapt across the floors, hastily rushing through various hallways and staircases.
Greetings from the agents flew over my head as I focused on the open entryway ahead of me.
I could feel my heartbeat pick up just as the Quinjet hovered down on the landing. The tip of its wings curled in on itself as the wheels made contact with the helipad.
"Whoa there!" An arm flew out before me. My feet stopped abruptly, and I stumbled into the outstretched arm of Maria Hill. "Relax, Y/N."
I couldn't.
I watched as the ship's door opened so agonizingly slowly.
I was silently praying that he would step off the ship in one uninjured piece.
And when people rushed to the ship and pulled out Barton on a stretcher, my heart dropped.
I looked up at Maria, who gave me a reassuring smile. "I'm sure it's not who you think it is."
What was that supposed to mean?
She pursed her lips at the sight of my frantic face, sighing before lowering her arm.
I dashed away the moment she did. My eyes eagerly scanned the heads that popped out of the ship, searching like a hawk hunting its prey.
An erratic-looking Hawk with wide, constricted eyes and a severe lack of footwear.
Maria had already caught up, putting a hand on my back and leading me into the ship. A small smile had been sent my way from the passing God of Thunder.
A part of me was excited as I had never been allowed inside before.
But another part of me was afraid I'd get in trouble because I had never been allowed inside before.
But all worry was thrown out the window when the familiar fluff of brown hair peeked out from above the captain's chair.
"Dad!" I smiled so wide I could feel the sting in my cheeks. Maria patted me on the back, giving me the go, and I ran over to him.
The chair spun around, and my father had his arms open wide, catching me as I fell into his embrace.
My arms wrapped around his shoulders as he did around my back.
Just like that, I was at ease. Happy that he was alive and okay.
"Hey, Neoma. What did I tell ya?" He chuckled, using the nickname he gave me when I was a kid.
"You came back," I spoke quietly, savouring the embrace.
I felt his hand move up to my head, running it through the strands of my hair soothingly. "I always do, sweetheart. Like I'd leave the company in the hands of my fifteen-year-old daughter," he teased.
"I think I could do a better job running this place." The words rolled off my tongue smugly as I pulled away to cross my arms over my chest freely.
He tsk'd at me. "I'll remember that when I'm handing Stark Industries over to Pepper."
I tsk'd at him.
From across the ship, Maria cleared her throat. "Lab's all set up, boss."
"Oh actually, he's the boss," my father pointed a finger at Steve who peeked over his shoulder, crouched by some equipment. "I just pay for everything and design everything and make everyone look cooler." He grunted, getting up from his seat.
"Right…" I rolled my eyes and spun on my heels to leave. "I'll be in my room now that I know you're okay- oof!" I gasped when my body was crushed against my father's torso, face first with his arm.
Steve ignored the witticism and pushed himself up off the ground. "What's the word on Strucker?"
"NATO's got him," answered Maria.
"The two enhanced?" Asked Steve.
"Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. Twins," Maria showed him via the tablet in her hands.
I huffed against the rough material of my father's maroon shirt, hitting the sides of my fist against his back as I struggled to breathe.
He only held me tighter. "Hey- hey! Come on. What? Just cuz you know I'm safe, you can go scurrying of? I missed my daughter too, y'know?"
I tried to speak-… Curse at him. Although, all that came out was a collection of incoherent sounds and grunts.
He pushed me off of him, giving me enough space to gasp for air. His hands were still planted on my shoulders. "I beg your pardon?"
"Said I couldn't breathe," I scrunched my nose at him.
"That was way more than 'I couldn't breathe.'" He scoffed before letting me go with a pat on my head. "Stay right here, won't ya?"
He turned away only when I gave a firm nod. He went to fiddle with a bunch of the jet's instruments while I plopped into the captain's chair, watching Maria and Steve exit the craft.
"How's school?" My father suddenly asked, not taking his eyes off the panel for a second.
"Really?" I grumbled, sinking into the uncomfortably hard seat.
"I want to make sure my daughter is as smart as I am if I want her graduating from University at the age of seventeen," he shrugged.
"It's a bit too late for that, pops. I'm already fifteen and still in my supposed senior year of high school," I chuckled. "And I meant 'really' as in like... I'm being homeschooled by a sentient woman who can't teach me Calc for shit," I shrugged.
"Don't swear… And you know risky it is to send you to a normal school," He finally finished whatever he was fiddling with and motioned for me to follow him out.
I hopped out of the chair and tailed behind as we stepped off the ship. "And who's fault is that, Mr. I am Iron Man," I mocked, speaking his name in a low dopey voice accompanied by jazz hands and an eye roll.
"I never sent you to school before that." My feet stopped in their tracks as my dad did the same, turning around to look at me.
"Though, now you've got me thinking that I should've. I can't hand Stark Industries over to someone who doesn't even know what the word 'Sentient' means," he booped my nose with the tip of his index finger before spinning back around and trudging on.
The annoyance had been wiped from my face when my brain processed what he had just told me. "Wait... It doesn't mean extremely old?" I called out.
He simply waved the back of his hand at me. "That's 'Ancient' you're looking for, Nugget!"
I pressed a hand against my forehead and let out a cry. "And to think, that the fate of the world would eventually fall into my hands…"
So This is Love || Age of Ultron 2: “Uncle Steve Knows Best”
“So This is Love” Masterlist
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My foot tapped against the floor to the light upbeat tune playing from the elevator's speakers. Eyes, staring up at the rising number above the doors.
My mini-party didn't last long as my destination was only a floor above the helipad.
As soon as the doors opened, I was greeted by Steve's startled expression. "Y/N," he said my name like it was unnatural to find me in my own home.
"Mister Rogers!" My hand shot up in a mock salute.
He shook his head. "You make me sound like the old guy from that kid's show you used to watch," he chuckled.
"I'm not too far off," I shrugged smugly. Although my smile fell as the elevator doors began to shut, making me squeeze through at the last minute.
Steve only laughed. "You calling me old, kiddo?" He jerked his head up towards the stairs, indicating that I follow him.
"Does it really count as being old if you've been asleep for like... a million years and still look young?" I partially joked as we traversed up the stairs.
"Sixty-six years," he scoffed. "And that depends on how you see it. I'm either 30ish or 100ish."
"So you're like my Uncle Grandpa?" I snorted.
"That sounds... Pretty lame. As you would say."
"I think it sounds cooler to brag about having an uncle who's a hundred years old and can still kick ass," I said, poorly imitating the punches I've seen him throw.
He laughed at me. "Don't say ass," he scolded, raising his hand to ruffle my hair to which I whined.
Silence washed over us and I turned around to find Steve had stopped halfway up the stairs. The smile he directed at me began to feel a bit forced if not beginning to feel pitiful.
"What?" I asked.
Then he asked me a question...
A question that seemingly came out of nowhere. A question I didn't expect to catch me off guard. A question that deprived me of the positive energy I felt when bantering with Steve just a moment ago.
"You doin' okay?"
"What do you mean?" I knew what he meant. I just wanted to be sure before I suffocate him with years of worry and anxiety.
"After what happened with Loki, you've been very..." He paused. "You've been around more. Not that having you around a lot isn't nice. I just can't see your dad without you tailing him like you're part of his shadow. Not to mention being the first face we see every time we land the jet."
I huffed, tilting my head up at the see-through walls of my father's lab. The same lab I was on my way to before our untimely encounter. A look of uncertainty replaced the one of worry on Steve's face.
"At first I thought it was puberty but I realized that was stupid." He continued to climb, catching up with me and putting an arm around my shoulders. "Come on. Tell uncle Steve what's wrong."
A small smile flashed on my lips for a mere second. "I... I'm scared... For my dad's well being," I answered. It wasn't what he was expecting but I wasn't sure if it was what I was expecting either.
"Of course. But there's something else, isn't there? You want to be able to do something more than just sit and wait each time we go out." Steve pushed on, pushing us along. I glanced up at the lab, seeing my dad and Bruce having their own conversation.
It got me thinking.
Being overprotective of my father because I couldn't help. Because of the barrier standing between me and being there beside him every time he went and faced whatever dangers were out there.
The same barrier that would've divided him from the rest of the Avengers if only he didn't have that damn suit...
And then it clicked.
I turned to look at Steve who seemed amused by the sudden shine in my eyes as I realized what I was missing this entire time.
"I wanna be an Avenger."
That, apparently, wasn't the answer Steve was looking for when the colour drained from his face.
But the adrenaline coursed through my veins at the revelation I had just made.
"I wanna have my own suit! So I can be part of the team and go on super cool missions with you guys and never have to worry about my dad ever again because I'll always be there!"
Steve dropped his arm from my shoulders and rapidly shook his head at that. "No, Y/N. That's not what I meant. You're only fifteen-"
"Why not? I learned Taekwondo when I was seven! With my dad's tech, I could be the next Iron Man! I'm gonna go!" I exclaimed, pushing past Steve and darting back down towards the elevator. "Thanks, Uncle Steve!"
"Y/N, wait!"
● ◉ ◎ ◈ ◎ ◉ ●
The next time I ever saw my dad after my talk with Steve was days later.
He and Bruce spent late nights in the lab, working on something they refused to let me know about.
I wasn't too upset. I was thankful it gave me time to build up the courage to ask him about a suit.
After all, it's what gave him the ability to fight with the Avengers. Plus they could always use the extra hand. I didn't know what else I could do if I couldn't look out for my dad with him on the front lines.
All I had to do was find him. The task already being a hassle as I struggled to get hold of Jarvis right as the party began. I waved it off as a delay, thinking it was my father showing him off to his guests.
I had bumped into every single person in the room except my father. Half the people already pulled me into lengthy conversations and jokes about my life as a modern-day Rapunzel having not left the tower since I was born. Some even tried to get me to put a good word in with my dad who I myself could not, for the life of me, find.
I was surprised he didn't spot me seeing as my pink dress made me stick out like a sore thumb. I wasn't particularly fond of it as it made me look half my age but it was something he designed so I didn't get lost in the sea of people.
Pretty ironic.
I was ready to give up, plucking a glass of red wine from one of the unguarded tables with no intention of actually drinking it, and aiming for a sofa to collapse into when I heard someone clear their throat to my right.
... Or cover up the word "Testosterone" with a forced cough.
I turned to where it came from and smiled seeing Maria and Rhodey walking away from Thor who was conveniently standing next to Tony.
"Hey! There she is!" my father pointed at me then squinted his eyes at the cup in my hand. "Is that wine?"
I eyed the people around me and quickly handed the glass to a random passerby before skipping towards the duo. "Not a drop, I swear," I ran a finger over my chest, crossing my heart.
He grumbled out, "Good. I don't want to see you turn out like I did."
"Thor! Have you greeted Thor?" He asked as quickly as a look of concern flashed on my face.
I shook my head and smiled at the god who was almost twice my height. "Good evening, sir," I spoke meekly.
Talking to Thor wasn't the most fun thing in the world. As easily as I get along with most of the team, Thor was just one of those I couldn't seem to keep a conversation with. Which was strange seeing as I would've loved to hear all about the realistic bits of Norse mythology.
"Greetings, young Stark..."
Silence...
Awkward silence...
Then a cough from my dad. "Alright. Hey, little Neoma! Uh- Thor, could you excuse us?"
I was pulled-... No, dragged by my dad by the heels of my peach-coloured doll shoes which scraped against the polished floorboards.
"I should put a tracker on you. That was a hell of a first hour," he joked as we stopped by a support beam.
I didn't have time to waste. Losing him now would mean spending ages finding him again. "Dad, I wanted to ask you something."
"Straight to the point. Go on." He leaned against the beam.
I took a deep breath. "Can I get fighting lessons?" I asked, already regretting it when the positive energy emitting from my father turned sour.
He didn't respond, trying to read my face for any hints that I was merely joking while at the same time trying to process an answer.
"What? Like self-defence stuff? Taekwondo? Or Karate?" He lifted his hand to mimic a chop, dropping it immediately and making it seem like he changed his mind halfway.
"... I want to learn to fight like Aunt Natasha and Uncle Steve. If not, I want a suit like yours so I can-"
"Are you joking?" He asked genuinely. "Is this a joke? Okay, I get it. It's payback for the whole 'sentient' thing, isn't it?" He laughed. "Because like hell am I gonna put my fifteen-year-old daughter in an Iron Man suit. Heck, even if you were thirty, I wouldn't put you in a suit."
I felt my heart sink, hands clenching at my sides. "I don't think I can spend another day with you risking your life out there while I'm in here not doing nothing to help whatsoever!" I argued.
"And I don't think I can spend even a second fighting and babysitting you, praying to God that when I come home, you come home with me... Alive and well," he spoke sternly, leaning in to make sure I heard him loud and clear over the party.
My breathing hitched as I did everything in my power not to cry right then and there. I opened my mouth to speak.
"You want fighting lessons? I'm finding you a trainer. For self-defense," he finished the conversation for us both.
My head began to ache, unable to situate my feelings and thoughts after the exchange with my father.
I never was good with emotions and feelings...
Wonder whose fault that was.
He sighed and spoke up again, this time in a kinder tone. "Look, Munchkin... We talked about this. What I'm doing is for your safety. I can't let the world go to shit when I know my little girl is in it..."
I frowned, dropping my eyes down to the shiny floorboards.
"I swore on my life that I'd be there to see you live yours. So don't ever worry about me not coming home. Because every time I find myself stuck in a situation I think I can't get out of, I remind myself..." He paused to run a hand through my hair softly, lifting my head to look me in the eyes.
Whatever he was about to tell me, I always knew the meaning behind the words was that he does everything for me. I just never understood to what extent.
I was always selfish. Always wanting the best of both worlds. Where our planet was guaranteed safety and I had my father with me. But I knew I had to accept whatever the conditions were, living under Tony Stark's roof.
So I was ready to ball my eyes out the moment he finished his heartfelt message.
"I'm not ready to leave all my money with Y/N."
I snorted, shoving his hand off my head and turning to wipe the stray tears that had escaped from the build-up.
"I hate you." He scoffed at that and put his drink down on a nearby counter to wrap both his arms around me.
"I don't think you do," he whispered when I returned his embrace. "Please listen to me when I say this, Neoma... I love you. And there isn't a day where I won't come back to you."
