angel cake ♡ tom holland/sebastian stan/chris evans oneshots

Star // Steve Rogers

First days are very hit or miss for you. Either they go like they did when you started primary school, the waitressing job you had for two years and your first day living away from home. Or they go how they did in secondary school (a boy grabbed your ass. You were eleven. He was almost fifteen.), the secretary job you had just left (you fell down the stairs and broke your ankle) and the first day living in America (you broke your other ankle). You weren't nervous about that morning. You weren't. No, really. You weren't.

Because you slept in.

You woke up fifteen minutes before you had to leave, giving you no time to shower and only just enough time to put on the most minimal make-up and an outfit you had worn before because it was safe, but maybe not what Tony Stark's personal assistant should wear - a red slip dress, a black mesh top with a pattern of silver stars beneath it, starry earrings, red lipstick and black Doc Martens. You grabbed your denim jacket and pre-packed bag on the way out, running the whole way to the Avengers Compound, forming some fairly impressive blisters on the way. You barrelled inside with a minute to spare, so you took the whole sixty seconds outside to try and make yourself look like you hadn't run almost twenty blocks to be there. Then, with your fingerprint already logged in the system, you went inside and ran up a flight of stairs to the place you knew Tony's office and, in turn, the little waiting room where you would usually be. You were instantly greeted with Tony Stark himself sat on the edge of your new desk, looking at his watch. He looked up at your arrival and you nervously tucked your hair behind your ears.

"Sorry I'm late-"

"You're not," he interrupted, "I was just trying to freak you out." And he grinned. You smiled relievedly back and held out your hand.

"Nice to meet you again, Mr Stark."

He shook your offered hand. "How old are you again?"

"Too young for you, that I can bet on." Pepper Potts said drily, emerging from Tony's office and smiling wryly at the man.

"Hi. I'm y/n. I'm, uh, I'm a really really big fan of all the stuff you do. It's so amazing. You're so amazing." You burbled mindlessly, smiling dopily. Pepper smiled at you.

"You're going to have to fight for her if you want her, Tony, because I might just steal her for myself. Now come back inside, you've done your theatrical thing, come and do your work thing."

Tony smiled one last time at you, then followed Pepper back to his office. Just as the door clicked shut, the phone started ringing in it's bulky cradle. You quickly dumped your stuff on the floor and picked up the phone.

"Hello, this is Mr Stark's office, how can I help?" You asked pleasantly.

"Hey, kid!" Tony replied. You laughed a little.

"I told you she knew what to say, now put the phone down." You heard Pepper say in the background, fond but firm.

"Gotta go, but you have fun in there."

"You first." You replied, then cringed so hard you could feel it in your chest.

"If you insist." And the phone was put down. You placed it back in its cradle carefully, then picked your things back up and brought them to the other side of the desk. You threw your jacket beneath with your bag and then settled yourself in your chair. You gave it an experimental spin, and giggled. You did it again, and again, and-

Someone knocked on the glass door.

You stopped abruptly and quickly sorted your hair.

"Come in." You invited uncertainly, unsure if that was what was supposed to be said. The door was opened and a man with biceps the size of your head walked inside. He smiled at you, and it was an expression so natural you felt yourself smiling back without thinking about it.