Marvel Login System (Rewrite)

Early the next morning.

Arthur woke up alone. The bed beside him was still warm, but Jean, Gwen, and Ruby had slept in another room the night before—at his own request. After her recent "upgrade," Ruby needed to spend more time around humans to adjust emotionally. And he knew there were no better companions for that than Gwen and Jean.

As he went downstairs, Arthur was greeted by a sight that erased any remaining drowsiness: Jean was in the kitchen, wearing one of his white shirts—slightly loose, with the top buttons undone. The morning sun streamed through the windows, illuminating her as if she were made of light.

She turned when she noticed him, smiling softly.

"Arthur, you're awake," she said gently.

"I made breakfast for the two of us. I was going to call you if you were still snoring."

Arthur smiled, crossing his arms.

"And how were you planning to wake me? With a kiss… or something more creative?"

He walked toward her slowly, his eyes admiring the way his shirt draped over her body. The sight was as familiar as it was tempting.

Tilting his head, he smirked.

"You know… like that, you really look like my wife."

Jean raised an eyebrow but didn't lose her smile. On the contrary, her eyes sparkled with playful mischief as she turned to face him.

"And who says we're that far from it?"

Arthur stopped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. The scent of her hair was both calming and addictive. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he spoke softly, his voice low and firm:

"Then it won't take long to make it official."

Jean chuckled quietly, resting a hand on his, which lay gently on her hip.

"I want to see you keep that promise, Mr. Morgan."

"Give me one reason not to," he replied, kissing her neck.

Jean gave him a narrow-eyed glance, pretending to be annoyed, but the blush on her cheeks betrayed her.

"You're impossible," she muttered, averting her eyes with a faint smile.

"Gwen's already left for university. And I… want you to come downtown with me after breakfast. I've got no classes today."

"Sure, let's go," Arthur said, stepping back.

Moments like this were rare for Jean—carefree and light—far from the weight of the Xavier Institute. Now, she wanted to live what she never could: the simple pleasures of a normal girl. Going out. Eating out. Buying clothes. Laughing without looking over her shoulder.

"I need to buy some clothes, by the way…" she teased, tugging at the hem of Arthur's shirt.

"I'll look like your hostage if I keep wearing your clothes every day."

Arthur pretended to think.

"Honestly? I don't mind. But we could get something… sexy. For you to wear around the house."

Jean laughed, gave his shoulder a gentle shove, and brought two simple but well-prepared plates to the table.

"My cooking's nowhere near yours, Chef Morgan…" she said, sitting next to him.

"Sometimes it's good to switch up the taste. And when food's made with love… everything tastes better," Arthur replied, looking into her eyes.

Jean blushed again, then leaned in to kiss him—soft at first, but soon filled with restrained desire.

Arthur was surprised, but quickly returned the kiss with equal intensity. Jean, once so guarded, was now letting go. She was blooming.

The kiss deepened, and soon there was more than just affection at the table—there was passion. They laughed between kisses, knocked over cutlery and nearly a whole plate, but didn't care in the slightest.

That morning, the dining table found a new purpose...

---

[Two hours later]

They showered together, exchanging caresses and teasing touches, before getting dressed and ready to head out.

"Arthur… let's go before I change my mind about leaving the house," Jean said, tying her hair into a makeshift ponytail.

Arthur laughed while dressing quickly.

---

Elsewhere in the city...

While some people were already up and had even exercised (or done something similar), others were rising from sleep like resurrected zombies.

Tony Stark stepped out of his room yawning, scratching his head, eyes half-closed.

"JARVIS… how long did I sleep?"

[Over 20 hours, sir.]

Tony froze in the hallway.

"TWENTY hours?! That's legally a coma, isn't it?"

[Technically, sir. But you did instruct not to be disturbed during your rest.]

"But twenty hours, JARVIS?! What if I got kidnapped again?!"

[Given your history, that was a reasonable concern. Still, your final instruction was 'let me sleep until I forget my own age.' I merely complied.]

Tony grumbled, grabbing a glass of morning wine.

"Any calls from Pepper?"

[Negative, sir.]

Tony frowned. He figured after such a long "disappearance," Pepper would come rushing. But no—maybe she was just used to his crazy vanishing acts by now.

[However, Colonel Rhodes made 96 calls and sent 53 text messages.]

"How sweet. Call him."

As the call connected, Rhodes's voice came through loud and clear:

"Thank God, Tony! You finally picked up!"

"What, thought I got kidnapped again?"

A strange silence followed.

"Dude… that's literally your biggest trauma. You're really joking about it?"

"Humor is my therapy, Rhodes. Now, tell me—why the panic?"

Rhodes cleared his throat.

"Well… I kind of… borrowed one of your suits."

"Hm… which one?"

"The Mark 2. The silver one. I know it's one of your favorites, but it was for a good cause!"

Tony grinned devilishly.

"Nothing a little compensation can't fix. Bring me all the wine bottles you hid in the secret cabinet behind the fridge."

"You knew about that cabinet?!"

"Rhodes, please. I'm Tony Stark."

"Damn…" Rhodes muttered.

"Was that emotional blackmail?"

"Of course not. Just plain blackmail."

Those wine bottles were Rhodes's treasure, and Tony knew it.

"Three bottles!" Rhodes blurted, already regretting it.

"Five!" Tony countered instantly, smiling like a Vegas gambler.

"Four!" Rhodes bargained back.

Tony raised an eyebrow, satisfied. "Deal. Colonel Rhodes, you're still a bargain-bin negotiator."

"But seriously," Tony said, leaning back, "you didn't just call to confess you're a suit thief, did you?"

"If you really wanted to make amends, you'd bring the Mark 2 back."

He said it jokingly, but with that gleam in his eye that said I'm testing you.

Rhodes sighed. "About that... the Mark 2 is in military hands now. They want to… 'refit' it."

"A tragedy!" Tony cried dramatically, clutching his chest. "My child has fallen into government hands. What a cruel fate."

Despite the words, Rhodes sensed no anger in Tony's voice—and that surprised him.

"You're not mad?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

He remembered the last time someone tried to "improve" a Stark weapon—Tony shredded a billion-dollar contract because the client suggested changing the missile's design.

Obadiah nearly had a stroke.

"Keep it, Rhodes," Tony said with a casual wave. "But now you owe me. And change the name. No more Mark 2. I hate costume repeats—and even more so, copies with the same name."

Rhodes blinked. "Wait… you're giving me the suit?"

"Consider it a gift… in exchange for a few more bottles of your finest wine."

Knowing he couldn't win this, Rhodes sighed and chatted a few more minutes before hanging up.

Tony stretched like a well-fed cat, pleased with the deal.

"JARVIS, open the roof."

[With pleasure, sir.]

Tony grabbed his wine, put on his sunglasses, and headed to the rooftop—ready to bask in the morning sun like a true bon vivant.

The breeze was nice. The weather perfect. The feeling? In one word: wonderful.

Then a familiar voice called from behind:

"I figured you were lost in some lab, but here you are, roasting in the sun."

Tony turned with a lazy smile. "Pepper. You came to see if I was still alive?"

"Actually, I thought you'd been kidnapped again."

Tony feigned offense. "Please. That only happens once every... six months."

Pepper walked up to him, with Natalie and Happy following close behind.

"Wanna sit?" Tony offered, patting the lounge chair next to him.

Pepper sat and studied him closely. "Hmm. You look… different."

Tony removed his sunglasses and grinned. "More handsome? Finally noticing?"

"No. Just… different."

She watched him like she was trying to solve a puzzle. There was something new about Tony—or maybe something that was no longer there.

Natalie crossed her arms, silently analyzing him.

Happy muttered, "He's just more relaxed. And more full of himself than usual… so nothing new."

But Natalie didn't respond. She was too focused.

The poisoning symptoms have lessened…? she thought. He looks too good. It doesn't add up.

She suspected Tony was hiding something. Or had he simply given up the fight?

She'd report all of it to Nick Fury—but for now, she'd keep observing.

Pepper finally smiled, relieved.

The Tony she knew seemed to be back. The tired eyes, the defensive sarcasm—those were gone, replaced by something almost… healthy.

"Well, I've got to get back to work. Just stopped by to see if you were still functional."

"I'm more than functional," Tony said with a wink.

Pepper rolled her eyes with a smile and stood. "See you later, Tony."

Before she could leave, Tony couldn't resist asking:

"So… any chance you're free for dinner tonight?"

Pepper glanced over her shoulder, the corner of her mouth curling into a soft smile.

"Sure. But I want you to wait for me."

"I might take a while."

Tony shrugged, relaxed:

"No rush. I can wait all night… or at least until JARVIS tells me to go to bed."

She laughed, shook her head, and walked away with that stride that made Tony forget for a second that he'd built a suit that could fly at supersonic speed.

The house returned to silence.

Tony looked up and snapped his fingers.

"JARVIS, how's the compatibility test for the new element?"

[Apparently stable, sir. No issues so far.]

"Perfect…"

He rubbed his hands together like a kid about to open a Christmas present.

"Create a new folder. Name it 'Mark 6.' I've got too many ideas and itchy fingers."

The emergence of the new element wasn't just a solution—it was a rebirth.

More power. More possibilities. And of course, more style.

The Mark 6 would be different.

It would be the start of something new.

And Tony Stark, in that moment, was exactly where he loved to be most:

in the heart of creative chaos.

(End of chapter)

Give me some power stones there you go~😉