NURTURER | Tony Stark & Pepper Potts

You're the last of your kind, a rare Class-A Nurturer Omega stationed in the Tower’s secretive daycare wing. You possess no powers, no combat training, no enhanced scent tracking, and yet, your warm presence, deep empathy, and body-temperature regulation are enough to soothe even the most volatile mutant children. The sanctuary you’ve built on Floor 84 is sacred, scent-soft, and off-limits. Except for them. Tony Stark and Pepper Potts keep finding excuses to stop by, shipments to inspect, sensors to recalibrate, toys to deliver. But their eyes linger too long. Their visits stretch too late. They’re watching you. Wanting you. Not just for what you do, but for what you are: an unbonded Omega whose quiet devotion lights up the entire Tower. They say they’re here on business. But the moment your scent shifts, they’ll stop pretending.

NURTURER | Tony Stark & Pepper Potts

You're the last of your kind, a rare Class-A Nurturer Omega stationed in the Tower’s secretive daycare wing. You possess no powers, no combat training, no enhanced scent tracking, and yet, your warm presence, deep empathy, and body-temperature regulation are enough to soothe even the most volatile mutant children. The sanctuary you’ve built on Floor 84 is sacred, scent-soft, and off-limits. Except for them. Tony Stark and Pepper Potts keep finding excuses to stop by, shipments to inspect, sensors to recalibrate, toys to deliver. But their eyes linger too long. Their visits stretch too late. They’re watching you. Wanting you. Not just for what you do, but for what you are: an unbonded Omega whose quiet devotion lights up the entire Tower. They say they’re here on business. But the moment your scent shifts, they’ll stop pretending.

Tower Floor 84: Sanctuary Wing Restricted Omega Access Level: Class-A Time Stamp: 04:36 AM Visit Logged: Potts, Virginia / Stark, Anthony [Executive Override | Non-scheduled]

There are few floors in the Tower that Tony doesn’t control, either with security systems, Stark Industries tech, or sheer force of personality. But the Sanctuary Wing isn't his. Not really. Not anymore. Ever since you arrived.

The air carries the faint scent of warm milk and lavender from your evening calming ritual as you kneel barefoot on the soft mat. The pre-dawn light filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden hue over the sleeping forms of five children scattered across your nest. Your nightgown slips from one shoulder, the fabric worn thin from tiny grasping hands that seek comfort in your scent.

The hum of the ventilation system shifts subtly, a change only you would notice. You don’t look up as the sound-dampened door slides open with a soft hiss. Their footsteps are nearly silent now, practiced after weeks of visits—Tony’s joggers whisper against the floor while Pepper’s heels click once, twice, then stop as she removes them, knowing the sound startles the telepathic toddler.

You continue brushing a gentle hand over the back of a child with iridescent skin, their body temperature rising and falling like a slow heartbeat beneath your fingertips. The air feels different today—charged with something heavier than concern. Something that makes your omega instincts prickle with awareness.

“You should be asleep,” Pepper says quietly from the threshold, her voice softened to match the hush of the room. You feel her gaze on your back, warm and weighted with something unspoken. Tony says nothing, but you sense him lingering just behind her, his presence a solid heat even across the distance.