My newest IronDad fic, inspired by the movie 65 and a prompt shared by @idk-bruh-20!

Chapters: 1/10 Fandom: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, 65 (Movie 2023) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Pepper Potts, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Happy Hogan (mentioned), Alexander Pierce Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Sick Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Found Family, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Dinosaurs, Outer Space, Irondad, Did i mention dinosaurs, Presumed Dead, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:

Provided with the opportunity to get access to life-saving treatment for his ill daughter, Tony Stark accepts the position as pilot for a two-year long delivery across the galaxy. But when an undocumented asteroid causes the ship to crash land on an unknown planet, Tony uncovers a dark secret about his employer.

Now he has to hike miles over uncharted terrain with the only other survivor—a traumatized teenager with strange, spider-like abilities. Danger lurks around every corner, and it’s a fight to survive as the duo faces deadly threats, ranging from rushing rivers to forty-foot predators.

Oh yeah, and the kid he’s with doesn’t even speak the same language as he does.

11:03 pm, Yesterday

Pathetic.

Not only was she pitifully on time to the party, but it was also painfully obvious just how much attention she had paid to her appearance. The last time she had spent this much time getting ready was for the giant annual SHIELD fundraiser last year.

She stopped just short of the entrance to Tony’s house, letting out a breath and smoothing down the front of her gown — a satin slip dress, rich navy shimmer. Low dip at the neck, tight around her hips before cascading down her legs with a luxurious sheen. Sparkly diamond earrings and necklace to match. Shiny black heels. The whole ensemble had cost her a fortune and a half.

To top it all off, she had managed to create an elaborate updo, spending hours trying to perfect it down to the last curl. Brushing a few strands out of her face, she peered up at the familiar yet still intimidating doors of Tony’s mansion. It stared back down at her with all its grandiosity, polished glass and gleaming gold daring her to enter.

Her staring contest with the door didn’t last long however, as she heard a line of cheerful guests chatting their way to the entrance of the party, sounds of shrill laughter and fancy shoes clicking against the marble pavement ringing through the driveway.

She bit her lip, determined to keep her worries at bay. She was nervous for more reasons than one, but decided not to dwell on them as she trailed behind the loud guests through the heavy glass doors.

As soon as she stepped inside, she was immediately greeted by a gust of live music and expensive perfume. Pepper Potts was quick to spot her at the door, greeting her enthusiastically and looking way too relaxed for her usual self at a Tony Stark party; she normally spent her time making sure that Tony didn’t blow half the house down to entertain the guests. Judging by the way she swayed back and forth, perhaps the champagne in her hand had helped.

“Hi, Pepper, how are you?” She greeted cheerfully as Pepper went in for a tight hug.

“Oh, just fantastic. What about you? I can imagine the recent debacle on Time Square’s been keeping you busy.”

She rolled her eyes, letting out a sigh. “I know. You’d think they’d be able to go one week without causing a ruckus” They both stared resentfully at the group of superheroes crowded around a bar in the far corner, watching Thor attempt to make an overzealous toast before clumsily knocking over a vase and three bottles of wine in the process.

Pepper shook her head and downed the remainder of the champagne in her glass, wincing. “Mm, when that day comes, I am taking a long holiday and never coming back.”

“You and me both Pepper.”

They made eye contact and shared a loud laugh. She remembered the first time she was introduced to Pepper, back when she was promoted to working as Tony’s assistant. Upon minutes of watching her work, she immediately grew to appreciate her tenacity, which was strong enough to handle even the great Tony Stark.

Soon enough, Piper was steering her toward the bar to “introduce her to the rest of the team,” an arm around her shoulders as they made small talk.

“How’s Anne doing? I heard about the tenure award.”

“She’s great, and yeah, the whole office got together for…”

As they approached the rowdy group of superheroes, she eyed them slowly: some sitting, some standing behind the bar. As soon as Tony spotted Pepper, he extended an arm toward her before stumbling tipsily, only to have Pepper lunge forward to catch him.

“Woah, ok, Tony. You might want to slow down on the scotch.” Pepper gave a nervous laugh, patting the front of Tony’s suit down in a familiarly threatening gesture.

Tony was too drunk to notice, however, as he waved her off with a mumbled “no, it’s fine, I’m fine.”

As Tony turned around, she was greeted with a loud “Manhattan!” The rest of the group’s attention fell on her, and she shrunk under their intense gaze.

She recognized everyone gathered there, even though she didn’t know any of them personally: Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Thor Odinson, Bruce Banner, and, most unfamiliar to her, James Buchanan Barnes. The nervous ball in her chest dissipated a bit after spotting Maria Hill sat in the corner, whom she had gotten to know during tedious meetings at HQ.

Tony spent a painfully long time introducing her to each Avenger, giving her information that was basically included in her job title to know top to bottom. It felt strange to meet these people in person, people whose messes she was so used to cleaning up after.

“… and that’s Seargent Barnes, a ruthless Soviet assassin now turned ruthless assassin for us.”

As her eyes trailed down involuntarily to the agent’s metal hand, peeking underneath the tight black shirt he was sporting, Tony bent down to her ear, whispering loud enough for the rest of the group to hear.

“Oh, and try not to bring up the giant shiny metal arm, he gets a lil’ sensitive about it.” He gave her a playful wink, which got an eye roll and a barely-detectable-but-still-there smile from the ‘Winter Soldier’, so she figured it was appropriate for her to smile and give him a small nod. To her surprise, he nodded back.

Tony peered around, frowning. “Where’s Rogers and Wilson?”

“I think you mean Wilson and Rogers.”

A familiar voice sounded from behind her and Tony, making her stomach jump. She whipped around with a wide smile, any remaining tension in her dissolving at the wide grin on the man’s face.

“Sam!” She didn’t know what had compelled her to do it, but she jumped up to give him a hug. Sam, who took a second to recover from shock, hugged her back even tighter.

Aside from the immediate joy of seeing a familiar face, perhaps she was so excited because Sam was a welcome change to everyone else she had met that night. While Tony and Pepper were amazingly welcoming people, and the Avengers seemed friendly enough, they all intimated her one way or another, be it the overbearing wealth, intelligence, or notoriety.

But with Sam, she felt nothing but ease and trust. They had met when she spent the summer of her freshman year of college volunteering at the VA. Over the months, she had become well-acquainted with his warm and playful nature, helping him arrange support group meetings for veterans. She was somewhat disappointed to hear that he had joined the Avengers as Falcon a few years later.

Pulling back from the hug, she got a whiff of his warm spicy perfume, nostalgic notes of cinnamon and sandalwood, and was reminded of much simpler times: picking up extra shifts in barely air-conditioned cubicles in the heat of July, made worth it by late-afternoon strolls around the reflecting pool, as she and Sam munched on half-smokes from Ben’s — ‘best in D.C.’, he had claimed through a mouthful of sausage.

The would partake in heated debates over hotdogs or sandwiches until the summer sun disappeared languidly beneath the horizon, sky bleeding a brilliant shade of orange. At one point, she had even thought that they would have made a good couple, if their friendship had been any less strong.

Now, as she stood in front of him, she couldn’t hide her surprise at how much he had changed since they had last seen each other. Cheekbones more chiseled, biceps twice as big, and shoulders wider, more confident. Plus a brand new fucking beard. The invigorating light in his eyes hadn’t faded, though, and when he smiled, that same endearing gap between his front teeth reminded her that at least a part of him hadn’t changed.

“Wow, how long has it been?” He exclaimed, gesturing toward her as he looked her up and down, incredulous.

“10 years?” She speculated.

Chuckling in disbelief, he shook his head and let out a low whistle. “Crazy.”

Another tight hug that neither of them could help.

“You look good.” He grinned, pulling back, with which she responded with a warm smile and a playful pat on the arm.

“You too, Wil”

“I see you’ve somehow already met Birdman.” Tony stepped between them, scratching his head in confusion.

“Yeah,” she nodded, still in awe at reuniting with the man in front of her, “We worked at the VA together.”

“Fascinating,” Tony responded insipidly, to which she just smiled and rolled her eyes.

Sam gasped, suddenly rushing forward.

“Oh man, my fault, I totally forgot!” He gestured toward the man who had been standing them all along.

A showy wave of his hand, and a small bow for extra dramatic effect. “This is the Steve Rogers”

“Sam.” The man next to him muttered and nudged Sam in his side, embarrassed.

As her attention shifted to him, her breath halted at the gaze that met hers. Soft eyebrows and even kinder eyes that crinkled at the corner, pink lips forming a gentle smile as he reached forward and extended a hand. At the gesture, the thin material of his shirt rippled, stretching against his bulging biceps and dear god, those shoulders.

She’s read plenty of material on America’s hero, but never seen him in person. Now she believed her coworkers when they said he’s more godly than Thor Odinson himself.

“Captain Rogers, it’s a pleasure.” She replied, nodding.

“Please, just Steve.” A deep timber ringing deep in his chest as his warm palm made contact with hers. “And the pleasures all mine.”

She couldn’t believe that this was the first time they were being introduced to each other, considering how much she already knew about him. Now, seeing him in what people in her line of work called ‘civilian attire,’ a tight blue dress shirt and fitted black slacks, she couldn’t help but be intrigued about what kind of man stood behind the red-white-and-blue shield.

Her thoughts were interrupted abruptly by Tony, who made a point in rolling his eyes and snoring noisily next to them.

“God, is this a party or a press conference? Come on! Capsicle -” A tipsy finger pointed at the blonde hero “- I challenge you and Wilson here for a game of…” A pause for dramatic effect, an all-too-familiar mischievous grin on his face.

“…Beer Pong.”

A mixture of groans and bets erupted around the group as Tony shuffled everyone over to the ping pong table.

But as she was pulled aside by her ex-boss to discuss ‘battle strategy,’ she didn’t fail to catch the way Captain America’s eyes lingered on her, meeting her gaze for a brief moment before quickly faltering.

And when he thought she wasn’t looking, those same eyes trailed across her features and down the curves of her dress, in a matter she’s never seen Captain America do before.

12:37 am

Two rounds of beer pong (both of which she and Tony lost), followed by a bonus redemption round that Tony demanded on the account that both of their opponents had “unfair physical advantages.” Since then, Tony had ushered out the rest of his guests (not without introducing her to Brad Pitt first, of course), and organized a ‘SHIELD agents only’ afterparty of sorts.

They sat around in a circle in Tony’s giant living room — her, Maria, and the Avengers — with Thor’s hammer as the center of everyone’s attention.

“Whatever man, it’s a trick!"

“Well please, be my guest.” Thor gestured smugly to his hammer, sitting on the coffee table (which was most definitely not worthy).

Clint Barton rolled his eyes, twirling a stray drumstick in the air as he stood up, being the 1st out of many people that night to try and fail at lifting the mighty Mjolnir.

Next came Tony, who, despite the usage of his fancy mechanic gloves, couldn’t even get the hammer to budge.

“Damn, I really needed that win” He plopped down next to her on the couch with a defeated sigh. After spotting her, he smirked, crossing his leg and throwing an arm around the back of the couch.

“Havin’ fun?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” Her hand slipped away from where it was resting under her chin, and she she sat up straighter, giving him a small smile.

“Manhattan…” Tony frowned, lifting his back off the couch, before he was interrupted by a roar of laughter from the rest of the group — Bruce Banner had almost fell backwards in his futile efforts to lift the hammer.

She bit her lip, glancing down at her dress and fidgeting with the fabric over her knee.

“I just…” She sighed, voice only audible to Tony.

“What am I doing here, Tony?”

He stayed silent, uncharacteristically so, and they both knew why.

“These people, your friends…” She trailed off quietly, though she doubted anyone else was paying attention, busy cheering on the next challenger in their test of worthiness.

Tony let out her name quietly, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Hating them isn’t gonna change what happened, you know that.”

At that, she visibly flinched, blood turning cold. Deep down she knew he was right, like always — he was never afraid to be straight with her. Nonetheless, she couldn’t help but straighten up, standing abruptly, letting out a small ‘excuse me’ as she squeezed past the couch and Maria Hill, seated on the floor.

As she made her way over in the vague direction of the bathroom, the clicks of her heels and the beating of her heart pounding in her ears, she could faintly catch the distant exchange between Maria and Tony, drowned out by another roar of laugher from the rowdy group of heroes.

“She okay?”

“Yeah, yeah she’s fine…”

The water shut off with a quiet trickle as she stepped back from the marble sink, glancing up at the mirror. Running a wet hand through her hair, she took a deep breath, letting the air fill her lungs until the corners of her chest hurt. She was here at her own will, so she might as well try and enjoy the rest of her night. Plus, Tony was right — blaming any of the people out there wasn’t going to change anything. Maybe she’ll go back out there, apologize to Tony with another glass of whiskey, and play along to polite conversation the rest of the night.

But, there was one thing she needed to do first.

She made her way out of the bathroom and toward the balcony, making sure to take the detour route so as to avoid crossing the living room.

As soon as she reached the glass doors on the northern side of Tony’s house, reaching a small opening on the top floor, she was reminded of why this was her favorite spot in the whole tower, and why she had moved to New York in the first place.

Tony had the best view in the whole city, no doubt. Overlooking midtown Manhattan, she could spot Empire State from here, the Chrysler building, and just feel the busy bustle of city life that shined through during this time of night: flickering lights and honking cars, loud sirens, distant sounds of laughter and bar fights. The cold night air cleared her head as she let it fill her lungs, chasing the loud thoughts away.

“Mind if I join you?”

She perked up, turning around to see who had entered, before shaking her head, letting her eyes return to the city horizon.

“No, go ahead.”

Steve Rogers gently slid the door closed behind him, and stepped out into the balcony, joining her at the edge. She wondered briefly how he knew she’d be here, but figured it made no difference. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him rest his forearms against the glass railing, bottle of beer casually hanging from one hand hand.

He was the first one to break the silence, voice resounding deep in his chest.

“You and Tony… you guys were great back there.” He said, jerking his head in the direction of the rest of the group.

A moment of confusion, before she realized that he was talking about beer pong. She let out a small smile, the lines of her lips too tight to feel genuine.

“Thanks.”

“Have you two known each other long?”

A pause as her eyes flickered over the Chrysler building, so close she could almost touch the glowing yellow triangles adorning the sides.

“Yeah, I… used to work as his assistant.”

“Ah, that explains the teamwork.”

She gave him an inquisitive look, and he added, “During beer pong? Sam and I barely beat you two.”

Eyebrows furrowed, she snorted, shaking her head. “You call 3-0 barely?”

“Well...” He glanced down, shifting the beer in his hand and straightening up a little.

“...you still put up a good fight.”

A small smirk in her direction as he takes a small swig.

She halted, head turning toward him with a raised eyebrow, genuine amusement tugging on the corner of her mouth.

“Did we now?”

A playful but shy glint in his eyes as he cocks his head, shrugging his shoulders, biceps flexing under his shirt. And the night air feels just a tad warmer.

Eyes narrowing with renewed interest, she slowly turns toward him, one hand on the railing, the other resting on her hip.

“And where did Captain America learn to play beer pong?”

He chuckles, cocking his head “Working with Tony you uh… you pick up a few things. Though I guess you don’t need me to tell you that.”

Her eyes trailed down the front of his dress shirt, blue as the lights on the Empire State tonight.

“Damage Control, right?”

She nodded, eyes flitting back up to meet his. Same color as his shirt, except for a hint of green — specks of cool, deep jade amidst all the pensive blue.

“Times Square must’ve been a real hassle. Thought I’d come out here and apologize.”

Ah, was that why he was here? A small smile as she glanced down at the glass of Don Perignon in her hand, tiny bubbles clinging to the sides before fizzing their way to the top.

“It’s alright, I already chewed Tony’s ass off about it.”

“Still, if there’s anything I can do to make up for it, let me know.”

Her fingers halted over the glass of champagne, eyes snapping up to meet his.

Was he really…?

Tinted cheeks and a shy smile, crinkling the corners of eyes that glanced away and fixed their gaze forward.

Yes, he was.

And so she decided to play along, to whatever this was. Whatever game they’re thinking they can handle. Hoping they can handle.

She straightened up, the lights of New York dancing in her eyes as an infinite kaleidoscope of color peered into green-blue.

“Well, I guess I can think of a few things.”

6:01 am, Today

Her feet burn against the hot driveway as she drags herself out of the wretched compound, face still burning with humiliation. Squeezing her eyes shut, she's desperate to punch the nearest wall after the conversation she just had with Steve.

He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his head.

“U-hm, I just wanted to ask if you wanted to join me for breakfast. I know this place just a few blocks away and-”

Her loud wince cut him off, as she squeezed her eyes and took a step back, closer to the direction of the stairs.

She hadn’t mean to reject him with such cruelty, but now that the ice-cold flame was out in the open, all the warmth had dissipated from the air between them.

“I…I don’t understand.” A soft furrow of his eyebrows and even gentler tone.

“Captain Rogers, we were drunk last night.”

She knew it wasn’t a great excuse — she was barely tipsy from that second glass of champagne, and him? Well, Thor’s Asgardian mead might’ve helped, but she remembered reading something somewhere about a super-soldier serum and a ridiculously high metabolism.

“I can’t really get drunk.” He responds instinctively, taking a step toward her in an almost desperate gesture.

She only sighs, because she knows the details of the account aren’t what matter, and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Captain Rogers, I-"

It was his turn to wince this time, shoulders visibly shrinking into his giant frame.

“Steve, please.”

“Steve, It’s just that I…” Her gaze rises beyond him and scans the rest of the compound. She sighs, incredulous at the circumstance she’s brought upon herself.

“… I just can’t believe I did this.” She said under her breath, more to herself than anything, but that never stopped anyone with super-hearing abilities, did it?

A flash of hurt that flickers across his features, before it dissipates just as quickly, his face molding into the stoic professionalism she was most accustomed to.

“Right. I’ll call you a cab. Do you have everything that you need?”

Fucking unbelievable. Even in a situation like this he’s incapable of abandoning his superhero bravado.

“No, thank you. I’ll call an Uber.”

And that left her here, now, waiting impatiently on some random sidewalk, still barefoot, waiting for a black Toyota to arrive by the name of ‘Jim.’

If it weren’t for her entanglement in this whole thing, she would have laughed into next week at the irony of it all.

Tony was so wrong. About Steve. About all of it. 100-year-old virgin her ass.

As her mind wanders back to the events of last night, she’s reminded of the most minute of details. Goosebumps erupt down her spine at the thought of his lips, his hands, his mouth…

And yet when she spots the black car round the corner and come to a hault, she feels the wave of sickening disappointment move back in her stomach, settling down for good. Out of all of the men she could have slept with in the world, it had to be him. How could she have let this happen? The reckless irresponsibility of it all made her gut churn.

23rd and 5th, please.

As the car drives off, she tries desperately to stifle the remaining spark of guilt flickering in her chest.

But even with her eyes closed, the last impression of his face burns through the back of her mind.