You stood outside the Avengers Tower, fighting a losing battle against trembling limbs. A hand, warm and calloused, laced through yours, squeezing reassuringly. Five months. Five months with Tony Stark, and still, the sheer *weight* of it felt surreal.
“(Y/N), it’ll be okay,” Tony’s voice was a low rumble, a familiar comfort. “They’ll love you.” A small, forced smile stretched across your lips, a pathetic attempt to mask the churning anxiety threatening to overwhelm you. This was it. The first time meeting the Avengers. A terrifying prospect, compounded by the fact that you were, and always had been, cripplingly shy. How had you even mustered the courage to speak to Tony in the first place?
“Hey, stop overthinking,” he continued, his grip tightening. “I love you no matter what. Ready?”
“No, but let’s go,” you blurted, the words tumbling out in a rush of sarcasm. You spoke quickly, desperate to prevent your own thoughts from spiraling. Tony chuckled, pulling you closer, planting a kiss on the crown of your head before steering you toward the Tower’s entrance.
You’d been here before, thankfully. The receptionist greeted you with a polite nod, and you walked to the elevator, still shaking. Tony had trained you in basic self-defense, ensuring you could handle everyday situations. But this… this wasn’t everyday. You bounced a leg nervously, a tic you hadn’t noticed before.
“Welcome back, sir and Ms. (Y/L/N),” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice chirped, making you jump. Tony laughed, a booming sound that echoed in the elevator. “Which floor?”
“Common room, Friday,” he said, holding you tighter. The familiar touch grounded you, and you let out a shaky sigh. The elevator doors opened, revealing a hallway leading to an open room. Tony let out a frustrated groan and turned to a small screen fitted into the wall, clearly malfunctioning.
“Babe, I’m really sorry, but I need to fix this. Why don’t you go on in without me? Introduce yourself?” He offered an apologetic smile. You immediately protested, offering to help or wait. “Honestly, it’ll only take a few minutes.” He added, pleadingly. You huffed, but conceded. How bad could it be?
Taking small, hesitant steps down the corridor, you felt your heart hammering against your ribs. *Just be you,* you repeated silently. You emerged into a room filled with superheroes lounging on sofas and chairs, watching television. As you took a deep breath, ready to speak, every pair of eyes landed on you.
Before you could even open your mouth, a gun was pointed directly at your head. Other weapons followed – an arrow, a red and blue shield, and a swirling vortex of crimson magic. A metal arm clamped around your arm, the grip painfully tight. Tears welled up, blurring your vision.
“Who are you? Who do you work for? Why are you here?” Captain America’s voice was cold, devoid of emotion.
Any normal person would have explained themselves. But the words wouldn’t come. Your anxiety had seized you, locking your throat shut. You stood frozen, helpless.
A tear escaped, tracing a path down your cheek. Just as despair threatened to consume you, a voice erupted from across the room.
“WHAT THE *IN THE FUCK* IS GOING ON HERE?!” Tony’s voice was laced with fury. “AND WHAT THE *FUCK* ARE YOU DOING TO MY GIRLFRIEND?!”
At those words, the grip on your arm loosened, and the weapons were lowered.
“Your what?” Steve asked, disbelief etched on his face.
You knew you should move, but your limbs felt leaden. More tears rolled silently down your face, and Tony moved to your side, pulling you close. Without shame, you wrapped your arms around him, feeling safer in his embrace. Tony’s touch calmed your racing heart. He turned to the Avengers, his eyes blazing with fury. “Explain. Now.”
“Well, she just came in, and we didn’t know who she was, so she could have easily been a threat—” Sam began to explain.
“And did you give her a chance to introduce herself?” Tony’s voice was dangerously low.
“Erm… yes.” Sam stammered.
“Friday, pull up the footage of (Y/N) entering the room.” The recording played, showing you opening your mouth to speak before being threatened. Tony’s anger flared. You knew you had to calm him down.
“Tony, babe, look at me,” you said, your voice surprisingly steady. His eyes locked on yours instantly. “It’s okay. I understand why they thought I was a threat, and I’m okay. I’m not hurt. I’m fine.” You spoke slowly, deliberately. His gaze flickered to the purple bruise forming on your arm, courtesy of Bucky’s restraint. “I can’t feel that, it’s okay.”
“We are really sorry. We didn’t know,” they all apologized in unison. Tony glared, ready to unleash a torrent of fury. You knew you had to speak.
“It’s okay. I forgive you. Everyone is okay now.” You smiled, a small, genuine curve of your lips. Tony’s pout was endearing.
“Mine,” Tony declared, his voice a low growl. He pulled you closer, his grip possessive, and led you towards the kitchen, then turned back to the group, his expression protective and fiercely possessive.