Multifandom Oneshots

Tony Stark x Reader

"Hey, Dad?" Tony asks, walking into his father's office nervously. "May I ask your--"
"Not right now, Tony. I'm busy." His father says, not looking up from the paper he's inspecting.
"Yeah. Okay." Tony says, turning to walk out, his fingers gripping the small box in his pocket.

"Hey, Jarvis?" Tony asks.
Jarvis looks up from washing a window with a paternal smile. "Hello, Mr. Stark. What can I do for you?"
"May I ask your advice?" Tony asks nervously.
"Of course." Jarvis puts his cleaning supplies down and comes to sit at the table.
Tony sits opposite him and pushes the box across the table. Jarvis opens it and smiles. "This is for Ms. Y/L/N?"
"Yes."
"And what advice do you need?"
"Am I... How do I do it? Should I do it? I mean, does she even want it? Will it make things awkward? Do I surprise her? Do I do it simply?"
"Aren't these questions better suited for your father?"
Tony shakes his head, tapping his fingers nervously as he listens to Jarvis' words of wisdom.
"What if I mess up?" He asks.
"You won't, Mr. Stark. Stop shaking and go." Jarvis smiles and stands up.
Tony stands too, pulling him into a hug. "Thank you, Jarvis."
"Of course, Mr. Stark. There's nothing to worry about. I'm sure it will go swimmingly."

You had been cleaning your apartment, but then Kenny Loggins came on, and it turned into more of a dance party of one.
"'You're playin', so cool. Obeyin' every rule. Dig way down in your heart, you're burnin', yearnin' for, somebody to tell you, that life ain't passin' you by.'" You sing, your hair in your face.
"'I'm tryin' to tell you, it will if you don't even tryyy.'" You half scream, half sing, into a bottle of windex.
You remember you were cleaning and start wiping a window, but you're still dancing, and it's leaving streaks, so you decide that's not the best idea.
You pick back up: "--'Loose, footloose. Kick off your Sunday shoes. Please, Louise, pull me offa my knees. Jack, get back. Come on before we crack. Lose, your blues, everybody cut footloose!'"
In a pause in your singing, you see Tony leaning against your couch. He's smiling fondly, and you're looking like an idiot.
You straighten up casually and pause the music. It cuts off, leaving an unbelievably awkward silence.
"Please continue." He smiles.
"Shouldn't've given you the key." You realize.
"No, please continue. Don't let me interrupt." He says. "'Ooh-wee, Marie, shake it, shake it for me.'" He sings.
You throw a roll of paper towels at him. "Get out of my house."
He comes forward and presses the rewind button.
The song starts playing from the beginning.
"'Been workin', so hard. I'm punchin', my card. Eight hours, for what? Oh, tell me what I got.'" Tony sings.
You cross your arms.
"'I got this feelin', that time's just holdin' me down. I'll hit the ceiling, or else I'll tear up this town.'" He continues, poking you until you join.
"'Now I gotta cut loose, footloose.'" You finally sing along.
"Wanna go clean the bedroom?" He grins, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in that direction.
"No, Tony. I've been cleaning all day, and I'm dirty and smell like windex."
"It's sexy." He assures you, planting his lips on yours.

"How did I get so lucky?" He whispers in your ear.
"I'm getting in the shower." You say.
"Can I join?" He watches you walk to the bathroom.
"Order pizza or something."
You take a long shower--it feeling nice is only part of the reason; the main reason you take so long is that you always struggle with eye contact after sex and because Tony has no problem with anything.
When you come out, you're greeted by the scent of fried rice.
"You ordered Chinese?" You ask as you come into the kitchen.
You see the frying pan. "Oh, you cooked?" Your eyebrows shoot up.
"Yep. No chicken, Ms. Vegetarian."
"How sweet." You smile.
"Mmhm, I know." He smiles, his eyes meeting yours.
You glance away, quietly clearing your throat as you pull your jacket around you. "Smells good." You say.
"You wanna get the plates? I brought wine. It's in the refrigerator."
You set the table as he finishes cooking.
He snags you as you scoot past him to get the silverware, sneaking an arm around your waist and bringing his other hand to your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. He's leaving you no choice but to meet his gaze. As soon as you do, he kisses you and whispers, "Everything's all right, beautiful."
"Why are you nervous?" You ask.
"I'm not nervous. Why would I be nervous?"
"I can feel your heart beating." You take his hand from around your waist and put it to his chest.
"Yep. It's beating all right." He agrees.
You laugh and twist away, getting to the silverware.
"Hey, uh, can I ask you something?" He asks over dinner.
"Sure." You agree.
"....What's your favorite color?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Nothing." He winces, shoving his fork into his mouth.
"Tony?"
"Yeah?" He responds too quickly.
"You're shaking the table." You reach over and put your hand on his knee, and your glasses stop shaking.
"Oops." He says.
You smile and resume eating.
He's one of those nervous drinkers--the people who take a sip of their drink every three seconds when they're nervous.
"Want water, Tony?" You suggest.
"Yeah, that might be better." He smiles a bit.
You stand up, but he puts his hand over yours. "I'll get it." He offers, standing too.
"I'll get it. Sit down, love."
He sits back down.
You set a glass of water in front of him.
"Isn't alcohol supposed to be a depressant?" He says.
You laugh. "Can't always get what you want."
"Will you marry me?" He blurts out after a moment.
"I'm sorry, what?" You blink.
He fumbles around for a second before pushing a small box over to you. "Will you marry me?"
"Of course." You open the box and slide the ring on your finger.
His sigh of relief is very audible.
"What? Did you really think I'd say no?" You smile.
He nods.
"You did?" You look at him weird.
"Yeah. Someone like you could do a whole lot better."
You take a moment to consider that Tony Stark just said that to you, of all people. "Bull."
He gets up and sits on his knees beside your chair. You kiss him lightly. "You know how after we have sex you're always insecure and self-conscious?" He asks.
"I'm painfully aware."
"Yeah, well that's how I feel all time around you."
"You?"
He nods, swallowing hard.
"Why are you still nervous?" You ask.
"Because I love you." He rises a little bit and kisses you, a shaking hand sneaking to your hip.
"I love you too, baby." You smile. "Hey, but Tony?"
"Yeah?"
"You cook well."
"Okay?"
"I wanna eat."
He laughs and returns to his seat.
"You have to cook once we're married, now. You realize that, right?"
"Shoot. I guess some talents were meant to be kept secret." He smiles.