ripped at every edge (but you're a masterpiece) (Hp x Mcu) by Lissy

Chapter 9: hold on to me (cuz i'm a little unsteady)

Summary:

Tony and Hari talk, and Death has no time for mortal sensibilities.

Chapter title:
Unsteady - X Ambassadors

Notes:

Timeline:
[x] (2012) The Avengers
[x] (2013) Iron Man 3
[x] (2013) We are here
[ ] (2013) Thor: The Dark World
[ ] (2014) Captain America: The Winter Soldier; Guardians of the Galaxy; Guardians of the Galaxy: Vol. 2
[ ] (2015) Avengers: Age of Ultron; Ant-Man
[ ] (2016) Captain America: Civil War; Spider-Man: Homecoming
[ ] (2017) Doctor Strange; Black Panther; Thor: Ragnarok
[ ] (2018) Avengers: Infinity War

By the time Rhodey is ready to retire to his floor, Tony is stressed the fuck out. He loves his platypus, loves that the other man is more than willing to spend his small amount of free time with him, but his head is fucking reeling with Hari's revelation.

She's the Mistress of Death.

The Mistress of Death is Hari Potter.

Tony can't even.

Rhodey shakes Hari's hand again, smiles genuinely at her and says, "It was nice to meet you, Hari. I hope I'll be seeing more of you."

Hari smiles back, a little hesitant, but no less genuine. "I hope so, too," she says quietly.

Rhodey whispers in Tony's ear as he walks by, "You did good, Tones. I'm really happy for you." And with a clap on his back and a sly wink, Rhodey makes his way to the elevator.

The silence is thick and tense, with Tony staring at Hari cautiously and Hari fidgeting under his stare.

"So..." Tony says. He opens his mouth, hesitates, then motions for her to follow him. He doesn't lead her to his bedroom again, instead chooses the living room and settles into one of the plush couches.

Hari gingerly sits on the couch next to him. "So," she echoes, fiddles with her hands. "This is a little awkward."

Tony lets out a little laugh, but it sounds stilted and forced. "Yeah, awkward is one way of putting it," he murmurs. He stares at her, his lips thinning. "I assume you got a meeting from...Death?"

Hari studies him, her head cocked to the side. "Yes. How did you meet Death? I thought you were a Muggle."

"A what now?"

Her eyes light up in understanding, and then a grimace overtakes her beautiful features. She hesitates, bites her lip, averts her eyes for a brief moment. Then she takes a deep breath and stares at him with her head held high. "A Muggle is a term British magical people use to describe non-magical people," she says softly.

He doesn't really know what to say. To say that he was non-magical implies that she is magical. He remembers cold blue eyes, a menacing grin, an echo of, "How will your friends have time for me when they're so busy fighting you?"

Ever since Loki, he's been apprehensive with anything magical. The arc reactor had saved him before, stopped the god from overpowering his mind, but he doesn't have it anymore. He's defenseless when it comes to magic, and as he stares at Hari, this beautiful woman who has been managing to get under his skin for the past few weeks, he realizes that he doesn't want to defend himself against her.

Not that he can't protect himself. They've been a thing only for the past few weeks; it would suck to break it off, but he could do it if he needed to. Maybe this makes him pathetic, but he likes her. He enjoys the time they spend together, in and out of the bedroom, finds himself fascinated by the way she way she speaks her mind, the innermost thoughts she let him peak at, the acceptance and goodness that she radiates.