Words: 2,045 Arranged Marriage AU Tony Stark x Reader Part 1 / Part 2
I’ve had a few requests for a part three of this story over the past couple months and I always known how I wanted the next piece to start, but didn’t have an ending until today. So here is the long awaited Part 3, with a Part 4 coming soon! (Feel free to submit a request if there is any particular scenario you’d like to see played out in this story!)
“Are you sure this is the place?” Your family driver asked, looking back at you through the rearview mirror. You looked out the car to the crowded streets. There were rows as far as you could see of cars double parked on either side of the road. Amongst the cars, sidewalks and houses an ocean of people walked in small groups.
“The address Tony gave me is about a half block from here.” You explained to the driver as you gathered your things. “But I can manage the walk!” You insisted as you clambered out of the vehicle. “Tony’s bringing me home, I’ll see you in a few days!” Your shouting was barely audible over the jumbled mess of the crowd and if the driver hollered something back, you couldn’t hear it.
You could hardly believe that all of these people were gathered around for a college party. The street was ridiculously packed with students in costumes all walking towards the same house as you. There was so much else going on you doubted that you stood out with a dufflebag slung over one shoulder and your purse slung over the other. Six houses down from where your driver had dropped you off was the address Tony had sent you. It was a blue single-family house and was probably a beautiful Victorian style but you couldn’t see the house or much else besides the party goers. The line to get into the party stretched back three houses. You somehow managed to weave your way to the front of the line.
Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps … perhaps … love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath. - Anne of Avonlea