It all started innocently enough, or so you had thought.

Tony had asked you out first, and you willingly accepted. You had kept an eye trained on him since your first days with the team, and it was exciting and a bit scary to know that one of the leaders of your group found you just as immediately intriguing. There were, of course, the extravagant dates that made you feel out of place despite his best efforts to calm your nerves. He was a legendary master of the smartass attitude, and his genius was matched by only a very few; but when he was with you, he was the politest of any man you had ever met, and he was gracious beyond anything you had ever experienced before.

As luck would have it, you actually would experience it again, in a completely different person that came into your life from out of nowhere.

When T'Challa joined the group, it took a good while to be able to speak to him casually without having to practice your greeting a hundred times in the mirror and having to wipe the sweat from your clammy hands out of pure, overwhelming fear that you would make a fool of yourself in front of him. The man was a king, after all, and his presence was commanding even without having to utter a single word. As a king, he didn't take well to challenges as one would expect; the particular challenge being one Tony Stark.

As time passed by, T'Challa took an interest in you as well, and the competition that they had imagined themselves in began to escalate. It escalated very quickly. He matched Tony's extravagance without challenge, always going just one step further into absurdity, making you feel more like a pawn in their game rather than the focus of their true intent. They each must have had inside connections within the team, letting them on to what dates you were going on so that they could surpass it with the next. That wasn't the worst of it, though. When the ridiculous gifts began rolling in, literally, you had to put a stop to it and make a decision on who would get your attentions and for the right reasons.

"Tony," you sighed heavily, "you bought me a car."

"I didn't buy you a car," he argued with a huff. "I gave you one of mine. I have too many and I wasn't even using it."

"You've never even driven it, and it's a one-of-a-kind. I can't imagine what the price tag on this thing is."

Tony smiled hesitantly, barely a smirk showing before he turned away and towards the car just to escape your glare, "it never had a price tag, sweetheart. I helped build it."

"Then there's definitely no way that I can take this!"

"Do you want me to build you your own?" he asked immediately, his eyes wide and bright at the realization. "Of course! I can't give you hand-me-downs! You need your own! What color do you want? I can start on it today!"

"Did you hear a word I said?"

"Mmm hmm," he muttered, his hand up to his chin as he envisioned his plans. You knew that he had all but disengaged from the conversation, and you weren't going to get anywhere with him. You had to find reinforcements. With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turned to leave and find Pepper, but you were stopped abruptly by Sam, jogging into the garage with an expression that had to mean trouble.

"(Y/N), you've gotta see this! Come on!" Your friend rushed towards you and grabbed your hand, desperate to pull you out and onto the compound lawn. "You never told me that you bagged a king! I thought you and Stark-"

"Sam, what the hell are you talking about?" Your feet tripped over each other as you followed, and when the object of his focus came into sight, you were exasperated, and so very done. "Are you serious?!"

"Hello, my dear," T'Challa greeted, much calmer and with a softer voice that you had directed at him, "do you like it?" He turned with a hand extended, stepping aside for you to see the jet parked behind him, but not so much out of the way that you could fully see your name beneath the pilot door. Of course, Sam had all but given it away already.

"Not you, too," you groaned. "T'Challa, what are you doing?"

"I thought you would enjoy-"

"Well I don't."

"Have I done something wrong?"

"You know exactly what you're doing," you hissed through clenched teeth. "You and Tony know exactly what you're doing and this isn't going to have the outcome that either of you want. I don't want your expensive gifts, okay? And this game of 'whose is bigger?' is really unattractive."

Sam leaned in closer to you, dropping his voice to a low whisper, "okay, so what's the answer? To the game? Whose is-"

"Shut your mouth, Wilson, or I'll shut it for you."

"Well that's just rude," he grumbled, turning to walk away. He really wanted to stay and see the playground argument that was about to ensue as Tony came to join the group, but perhaps it would be safer for everyone to record it all from a distance. When it came time to share this with the others, it would be better to have a clear scene rather than the shaky mess that he'd get between your angry punches to stop him.

"Now, Your Highness, answer me," you said as calmly as you could despite the rage building in your every muscle and every nerve. You weren't one for shows of dominance or the childish game these two were playing, and you were about one lame answer from being done with the both of them. "What do you think you're doing?"

T'Challa paused and pulled his hand back from trying to reach out to you, his jaw set tightly now. He was being called out and he wasn't upset with you for doing it; he was upset with himself for not seeing what he was doing. He was upset for not valuing you enough to treat you better rather than to allow himself to be pulled into such a ridiculous competition that he knew he would win anyway. It was just that he was scared to miss an opportunity, and he saw you falling. He saw you falling for Stark, and the window was closing.

"Please accept my apology, (Y/N)," he whispered, sliding his hands into his pockets almost meekly, "I've succumbed to behavior that I don't condone."

"Okay...so why?"

"Is it not obvious?"

"Of course," you smirked, "I just want you to say it."

"Will it change the answer you return once the words have been spoken?"

"Are you asking me to choose? Between you and Tony?"

"No...no, I'm not. That is not a question that I am allowed to ask," he relented. "Of course, you can still answer it without my asking...should you so choose...on your own, without provocation..."

You opened your mouth to not give him an answer, but to stall him further, when the other man in your life just happened to stroll up and join in. Tony rested a hand on your shoulder as he approached, but with the look in T'Challa's eyes at his contact with you, he instead slowly slid it down to rest on your lower back while he took his place at your side. He made very sure to maintain his hold and to stand as close as physically possible. "Hey, honey," he greeted, wearing a tight smile, "do we have trouble over...here..." he paused, "okay, what the hell?"

"Tony-"

"Why is your name on the door to that jet?" he asked angrily, releasing you and taking a step closer to T'Challa. "Did you seriously give her a jet? Overcompensate much? Anything you'd like to share that might change her mind? Performance issues, it's not uncommon...one out of five..."

"Tony, stop," you warned, turning with a sharp poke of your finger into his chest and pointing at T'Challa to stand steady, "I've had enough of both of you. I was having a great time keeping things casual, which we all agreed was okay, remember? But then you two have to go and ruin it all with this childish crap. You can't buy me, and all this has done is made me wonder if either of you are right for me." You gave each of them a stern glance, moving past Tony to take your leave of them both.

"(Y/N), wait," Tony tried first.

"(Y/N), please, stay so that we can talk this through," T'Challa tried next, but both attempts were met with silence. All they could do was to watch you walk away and wonder if you would ever return. "Well, Stark, it would seem that neither of us win. We've let our competitive natures get in the way once again."

"Hmm, yeah, we sure did," Tony agreed. "But here's a question. Who could possibly be more suited for her than either one of us?"

The two men shrugged almost in unison, shaking their heads in shared disappointment as they walked back to the compound with a broken gait. They each had their eyes on you, however, continuing to glance your way as they walked, unbeknownst to the other. "Stark," T'Challa interrupted, "I think we may be getting the answer to your question."

"What?" he answered back, his curiosity now piqued. "Which question was that?"

"Who may be better suited. Look," the king nodded towards the building where you had just passed through the doorway. When you met the person on the other side of it, your face lit up into a wide smile, and the two men swore they could hear your laughter all the way across the massive lawn.

Tony squinted his eyes to see who it was that you were so entertained by, and who could make you laugh with a sound you had never offered to him, even at his best moments. When the view became clearer, he was stopped in his tracks in disbelief, putting his hands to his hips in offense at your choice. "Are you serious? You're not serious...right?"

"I believe that I am. I am also serious when I say that we can easily defeat them, especially if we combine our efforts. First, we must regain her attentions."

"Oh, don't you worry about that, Cat-Man," Tony laughed, though it quickly died away into a determined tone, "if anyone excels in attention-seeking behavior, it's me."

*choose your own ending*