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jinxquickfoot · 8 months

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@badthingshappenbingo prompt: "You said you would let them go" Find the fic on Ao3

"You said you would let him go.”

Peter squeezes his eyes shut—the only part of his body he can move—at the sound of Tony’s voice. He’s lost track of how long it’s been since he’d woken strapped to this table, the scents of chemicals and ocean heavy in the air.

“That’s when I thought I was ransoming an intern,” Osborn replies, running a finger down the side of Peter’s cheek. Peter manages to glare at him—the most he can do when he’s unable to pull away. “But he’s more than that, isn’t he, Stark?”

“Whatever narrative you’re trying to spin to wring more cash out of me, save it. You have the money you asked for. Now let him go, or I’m going to stop being civil about this.”

“Civil?” Osborn muses. Even from this end, Peter can hear the distortion from the tech Osborn is using to disguise his voice. “Civil would be returning what’s yours, Stark. Which was the plan before I realized that you stole this specimen first.”

“He’s a high-schooler. Only thing he’s been stolen from is gym class.”

Osborn bends his finger, causing the nail to catch on Peter’s skin. “A high-schooler, yet you gave him access to your personal labs. He must be very special.”

“Rumours, and half-baked ones at that. Get better sources.”

“Don’t lie to me, Stark. It wasn’t hard to run some blood work. This kid isn’t human, not by a long shot, so the price just tripled. Have the money in the same account by midnight, or I’m putting him on the black market in pieces.”

“Or,” Tony counters. “I figure out who you are, come pick the kid up myself, and you can face me head on. How does that sound?”

“Is that an UN-approved mission, Stark? Heard you’re on a tight leash these days. Good luck getting a rescue mission signed off in time to save the kid.” Osborn grins down at Peter, the expression all teeth. “Either way, I get paid for him. How much pain he goes through during the interim is entirely up to you.”

“Listen, you do not want to—”

But Osborn has already hung up. “So, Peter. Looks like we have a few more hours together. How do you want to spend them, huh? Shall we have a little more fun while your dashing hero decides if you’re worth paying for?”

Not being able to throw quips at bad guys sucks. Peter tries to move his tongue, but it’s as immovable as the rest of him. When he’d first woken up, he’d been terrified that the paralysis might be permanent. But he regains feeling every couple of hours or so, just enough to strain his limbs against the restraints, which is exactly when Osborn gives him another dose of whatever drug is keeping him immobilized.

“I’ve got all the blood I need,” Osborn is saying, moving over to the table that Peter is trying very hard not to look at. “But if we have time, why don’t we go a little deeper?”

If he could move, Peter would flinch at the sudden whir of what sounds horribly like a bone saw starting up. He might not be able to move his body, but the past few hours have certainly proved that he can feel it.

“Aw,” Osborn coos at him, the sound of the saw growing closer. “Don’t be scared, kiddo. You heal quickly enough. And after all, I’m only taking back what was mine in the first place—” He breaks off, turning to a bank of monitors that Peter can just see out of the corner of his eye. There’s a green dot traveling towards them at breakneck speed. “Well, would you look at that? I guess Stark isn’t as stupid as that goatee makes him look.”

A breath punches out of Peter as the saw switches off, hoping Osborn’s words mean the one thing he’s been praying for since he first woke up here. Tony’s coming.

Osborn sweeps Peter’s hair off his forehead in a mock gentle gesture. “Looks like I’m about to have an unexpected visitor, which means I’m going to have to put you away for a while.”

Peter narrows his eyes at him, trying to look as intimidating as possible while unable to move on a surgical table.

Osborn just laughs. “I see. You think he’s going to find you. Ah, Peter—where I’m about to put you? No one will even think to look.”

Somehow, getting cut open with a bone saw might have been preferable to this.

It’s freezing. If Peter’s body was cooperating, he knows he’d be shivering violently right about now. It’s pitch black, the oppressive darkness making him want to scream. And none of that compares to the overwhelming claustrophobia of being chained to an anchor deep, deep underwater.

Peter’s not sure a normal human would have survived the plunge into the ocean’s depths, even with the diving suit Osborn had stuffed him into. He can breathe, at least, but he’d caught a glimpse of the oxygen tank before Osborn had tipped him overboard. It had already been half-empty.

He’s tried to slow his breathing, to make whatever air he has last, fighting the instinct to panic and attempt to strain against the chains. Logically, he knows it’s no use. He’s still paralyzed. Even if the drug wears off, he’s not going to be strong enough to swim to the surface. He’s down here until Osborn pulls him up or until Tony finds him. If Tony finds him.

“Wow,” Osborn’s voice crackles in his ear. The earbud had been jammed in before Osborn had secured the diving mask purely, Peter knows, so that Osborn could keep taunting him. “He got here fast, little spider. Guess he really cares about you. Too bad he’s not going to find you, though.”

Peter closes his eyes, even though it doesn’t make the slightest bit of difference to what he can see. If anyone can figure out where Osborn’s hidden him, it’s Tony Stark.

It’s the thought he holds onto as he hears the distant roar of thrusters, right before Osborn whispers over the comms, “Show time.”

A stomp of boots and the crack of a door being kicked open. “Where is he?”

“Stark. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Osborn. That line about a stolen specimen? I know you have him.”

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about. And I’ll have you know that there are security cameras all over this boat. It would be a shame if the UN saw the Accords’ greatest defender attacking without so much as a warrant.”

“I don’t need a warrant if I have probable cause of harm.”

A surprised laugh. “Probable cause of harm? I am merely out here alone, enjoying a little me time.”

“Uh-huh. So you won’t mind if I search your toy boat, then?”

“Go ahead.” Osborn is all confidence. “Search away.”

More sounds—footsteps, mostly. The sounds of doors opening. The noise of a search.

Please, Peter sends up to the boat, as though if he projects through sheer force of will Tony’ll hear him. Please think to look down here, Tony. Please.

“I have to say,” Osborn speaks up, and Peter wants to punch him for the undisguised glee in his voice. “You must have lost something very important to go to all this trouble.”

“Don’t play the ignorant card, Osborn. It’s not a cute look on you.”

“Simply making an observation.”

“And you know what I observe? The room you have hidden below the ship.”

Peter’s heart skips. That has to be the room he had woken up in, where the surgical equipment, where Peter’s blood is.

“Not hidden,” Osborn corrects him. “The door is simply an aesthetic design, I assure you. I’d be more than happy for you to take a look.”

A sudden ocean current sweeps past Peter, knocking him hard against the anchor. It steals the wind from him, and there are a few terrifying moments where he can’t catch his breath, he can’t breathe, he can’t—

“Interesting space you’ve got in here. Very… clean.”

Peter latches onto the sound of Tony’s voice, using it as a much kinder anchor than the one he’s bound to. He doesn’t know how much oxygen he just wasted. He doesn’t know how much he has left, either. It belatedly occurs to him that if Tony can’t find him, then the more time his mentor spends searching, the longer Peter’s going to be stuck down here.

“I hardly use this space,” Osborn says. “The previous owners used it for fishing equipment, so I had it scrubbed to get rid of the smell and have barely touched it since. And I believe you’ve now seen the whole boat. Satisfied?”

I’m not on the boat, Peter thinks desperately. I’m below the boat.

“Not really,” Tony answers. “So, he’s not here. You’ve got him somewhere else.”

No, no, no, I’m here, come on Tony, please figure this out.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Stark.”

There's an ugly pause before Tony says, “Don’t make me make you tell me, Osborn. You won’t enjoy that.”

“Go ahead,” Osborn challenges him. “Threaten an innocent man on camera. Let’s see how that holds up under the Sokovia Accords.”

Peter’s breath catches. At first, he thinks it’s just the tension burrowing its way under his skin from the dark, the cold, the oppressive weight of the water. Then he takes another slow breath. And another.

He’s not imagining it. The air feels a little lighter than before. As though he’s already scraping the bottom of the oxygen tank.

“I paid what you asked for,” Tony snaps at him. “Tell me where he is, Osborn. Now.”

Peter slows his breathing, trying desperately to make whatever is left in the tank last as long as possible.

“How many times do I have to say it? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not leaving here until you tell me. I’ve got all night.”

Barely an hour ago, those words would have been music to Peter’s ears. Now, they’re a death sentence.

“All night, huh?” Amusement radiates from Osborn’s words. “Sure, I’m not busy. Can I offer you a drink?”

“I’m taking a second look around the ship.”

“Please, be my guest. Take all the time you need.”

Peter’s next breath rattles in his lungs. He’s definitely on dregs, and it’s not as though Osborn can pull him up while Tony’s still there. Osborn doesn’t need him alive, either. He’s made it clear that Peter’s body parts will sell just fine.

Peter listens helplessly as Tony continues to search, refusing to leave without answers that Osborn isn’t giving him. This is it. Peter’s going to die down here.

“Sure I can’t get you that drink, Stark? You did come all this way.”

Even over the comms, Peter can pick up Tony’s frustrated sigh. “This isn’t done with, Osborn.”

No, be done with it, Peter pleads with him. Go, Tony. Please just leave.

“I’m not sure what this even is,” Osborn replies, his tone all congeniality. “Of course, you did just invade my private property, which I will have to report. We all have to do our bit to keep the community safe.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Another sound of frustration, and then Peter hears the joyous sound of an Iron Man suit starting up. Tony’s going to leave. Osborn is going to pull him up.

And then cut him to pieces and sell him.

Peter barely has time to register that last thought before he tries to take his next breath, and finds that he can’t.

“Goodbye, Stark,” Osborn is saying. “Hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Peter forces himself not to panic—to preserve the last molecules of oxygen he has left.

“Oh believe me, Norman. I will.”

Just go just go just go just go just go—

There’s silence for far too long before Peter hears Osborn speak again. “Just making sure he’s out of sight, kiddo. Can’t take any chances.”

Peter’s lungs are on fire. Instinct finally kicks in and he jerks in the chains, the paralytic drug wearing off far too late. A very different kind of darkness from the undersea depths is creeping in around him, and he can’t hear Osborn anymore, and the anchor isn’t moving, he’s going to die down here and he doesn’t want to die he doesn’t—

The last thing Peter’s aware of before he passes are strong arms on his, and the sensation of rising, rising, rising…

“Peter? Come on, kid, don’t do this to me.”

When Peter’s eyes open, he doesn’t see darkness. He’s not strapped to a table either. He experimentally shifts his arms and legs, breathing a sigh of relief as they move, only to realize that they’re shaking beyond his control.

“That’s it, Pete. Hey, look at me. Peter.”

The blurry shapes around him finally coalesce into the face of one very worried-looking Tony. “Oh, hey Mr Stark.”

“I need to stop pulling you out of freezing waters, kid.”

“S-sorry.” Peter can hear his teeth chattering, trying to wrap his arms around himself, only to realize that they’re oddly heavy. He peers down at himself, realizing he’s encased in red and gold metal. “Woah, that’s so cool.”

“Don’t get too excited, the suit’s a loan. Just getting you warm.”

Peter frowns. “Don’t feel warm.”

Tony’s brow creases. “We’ll get there. Don’t want to shoot your temperature up too quickly with your funky thermoregulation. Once you’re good I’ll fly us home.”

“Home sounds good. Away from…” Peter suddenly tries to sit bolt upright. It’s more of a half-sit-up before he collapses back with a groan.

“Woah, kid, take it easy.”

“Osborn, he’s here, he’s—”

“I got him. You’re safe, kid. I promise.”

Peter stills. “Really?”

“Really really.” Tony places a hand on Peter’s forehead, and Peter sighs at the warmth. “Sorry, kid. This one’s on me.”

“But you found me.”

“Yeah, that was one of my better brainwaves. Still, I don’t need villains kidnapping my intern because they think it’s an easy payday. We’ll work on it.”

Peter’s beginning to feel something other than completely frozen, the violent shivers abating a little. He pulls in a full breath, savoring it. “Yeah, that sucked.”

“Agreed.” Tony checks his forehead again. “I think we’re okay to turn it up a bit, FRIDAY.”

Heat suddenly bursts from the Iron Man suit’s interior, and Peter sighs in relief. “Thanks.”

“Any time, kid.” Tony lays his hand on Peter’s arm, finally seeming to relax as Peter’s temperature climbs. “Any time.”

#irondad #tony stark #peter parker #hurt peter parker #protective tony stark #kidnapping #hostage situatons #tw: claustrophobia #bthb card #bad things happen bingo

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whumper-at-heart · 5 months

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I found out this character A.I. website that lets u chat with characters. So i pretended to be peter and had a chat with tony.

What can i say ? Even a.i. tony stark is protective irondad^tm .

#protective tony stark #peter parker #iron dad #irondad spiderson #spiderson #chatbot #funny shit

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madarmy · 2 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Iron Man (Movies), Doctor Strange (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange, Christine Palmer/Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Tony Stark & Stephen Strange, Stephen Strange & Wong, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts & Tony Stark Characters: Tony Stark, Stephen Strange, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Wong (Marvel), Peter Parker, The Cloak of Levitation (Marvel), other characters are mostly just mentioned - Character, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) Additional Tags: Marriage Proposal, Team Iron Man, Protective Tony Stark, Protective Stephen Strange, Boys In Love, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, soft boys in love, this is too fluffy, it was supposed to be short, how did it get so big?, it's a proposal fic evryone, its filled with all the floofy feels Series: Part 4 of TONY & STEPHEN IRONSTRANGE GOALS Summary:

“Tony” Stephen took one more deep breath to compose himself a little, that wide smile was still stuck on his face though, “I know we have not dated for even six months now but I am more sure than I have ever been that you are it for me. You are the one. You are my everything. My love, my life, my forever and I don’t want to spend a single more day without knowing that you are completely mine and I am yours.”

A proposal fic!!! Where Tony can't figure out why his boyfriend can't stop smiling like a fool for the past whole month.

#ironstrange #iron man #dr strange #proposal #fluff #wedding proposal #protective tony stark #bamf tony stark

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irondadfics · 2 months

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Hey sorry for adding to you workload

But I was hoping you could help me find this one fic where Peter travels to an alternate universe and in the au Tony hates him (or rather the version of him in the au) because Tony thinks that he hurt Morgan (he hadn’t and it was big misunderstanding or something) and I think Peter joins the rogues or does something bad and Tony ends up having to lock him the raft. It’s all pretty vague but one think remember clearly is the ending where the au version of Peter breaks out of the raft and there’s this big showdown with the actual villain I think and au version of Peter sacrifices himself to save Tony and/or Morgan during the fight and it was a pretty sad ending.

I hope you can help me find it thanks

This is for you

#foundfic #hurt!peter #protective tony stark #angst

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ctrsara · 1 year

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Cuddled Out

Peter’s pretty adorable, and pretty indestructible, and the Avengers tend to go just a little bit overboard sometimes.

Another Discord-baby. The idea of the Avengers being kind of aggressive with their affection where Peter's involved (like you have a puppy that's SO CUTE YOU JUST WANNA SQUEEZE IT TO DEATH - but resist) because he's so indestructible, and because he enjoys it, came up, and @yes-i-am-happyaspie, @call-me-coley, and I somehow ended up promising to write the idea (without sharing how we were doing it) with each other, then exchange stories today. So make sure you check theirs out, too! This isn't stuff I usually write either, so a little bit of a reach, like the last few one-shots I wrote! Plus I kept it right at 1500 words, which is also hard for me. :)

Join our happy little band: On the Iron Dad: Readers and Writers Discord

Teaser below the cut.

Peter Parker tried not to bounce too much in the back of Happy’s car. The forty-minute drive to the Compound seemed longer than usual today, but that’s probably because Peter was excited. There had been a lot of missions this month (that he hadn’t been invited to, mostly since he’d been doing term papers and taking finals for the last several weeks) and he hadn’t seen most of the Avengers in weeks or even months. But there was finally nothing going on (that they knew of) this weekend, and Peter had been invited to spend a few days with the team, just hanging out. There was going to be pizza, and games, and science, and movies, and maybe some super-powered Capture the Flag, if Peter could talk Tony into it.

“You glad your finals are over, kid?” asked Happy with an almost-smile, meeting Peter’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “You’re kinda quiet back there.” Happy used to mostly keep the divider up while they drove, but he hadn’t done much of that since they’d started getting more comfortable with each other. Peter had been surprised to realize that a lot of Happy’s reticence and gruffness actually seemed to be masking some low-level social anxiety. Peter definitely empathized with that. But Happy had been more chatty in recent months.

Peter smiled back at him. “Right, I’m super glad. It’s been a rough couple of weeks. Mostly I’m just excited to see everyone though.”

“I guess you haven’t been around much lately, huh?”

Peter shook his head. “The last time I got to see everyone was like two months ago. I mean, I saw Ms. Romanoff last week for training, and Dr. Banner helped me with my final Chemistry paper, but otherwise…”

“And you’ve seen Tony, of course.”

“Well, yeah. I couldn’t not see him. I just haven’t seen the rest of the team, or been together with them in a while.”

(finish reading on AO3)

#irondad and spiderson #tony stark and peter parker #irondad fanfiction #domestic avengers #peter parker is tough #more or less #protective tony stark #tony stark acting as peter parker's parental figure

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skits-things · 9 months

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Scarlet Savior

In light of the fact that ao3 is under a ddos attack and thus there is no expected eta for a fix, I've decided to put this fic in text form on tumblr, as well as the other prompt I wrote for @darkkitty1208. They also betaed this work. Also @ironstrangehaven in case you wanna reblog this, even though you already reblogged my ao3 link. Fic is under the readmore.

Summary:

It was supposed to be yet another invasion of the Earth. Stephen won’t ever understand what makes his world so attractive to invaders, but it should have been standard procedure. For once though, the inhabitants of the dimension seeking to conquer Earth didn’t merely attack rampantly.

The aftermath is abhorrent.

He despises the looks of pity that follow him around. The horror and morbid fascination of strangers. Even those exposed to the dangers of their way of life have a mere fraction of the marks on him. Trivial compared to his experiences.

The only other person with as much red on them is Deadpool, and no one expected different from the merc with a mouth. Even then, there’s the odd hole in his aura. A speck of his body that has somehow remained unscathed.

All anyone can see when they look at Stephen, is a blindingly bloody red.

Wong is the only one he can stand to be around nowadays. Two weeks after the nonsense and yet it seems like the staring won’t ever stop. Whether it’s the members of the Mystic Arts, the general populace, or the so-called champions from The Incident, Stephen feels their eyes like a drill to the Earth’s core.

His friend is generous enough to allow Stephen his sulking. None of them understood exactly what they were signing up for in The Incident. Every one of the participants were stripped and made vulnerable to their cores. Wong himself had more than his fair share of scarlet on his body.

It was merely unfortunate that Stephen turned out to be extraordinary in this way too.

The Sanctum alerts him to a visitor and he grimaces. The doors stay shut by sheer force of will, and his ill-timed guest only stays for a few minutes longer. Almost petulantly kicking the door on his way out.

The isolation of the library no longer feels like a safe haven from the world. Tony Stark has a way of making his presence felt, merely by reminding people of his existence. Stephen grabs his books and prepares to leave for his rooms, but stops short at the unimpressed look Wong levels at him.

“What?” Stephen snaps, irritated and perhaps a touch defensive.

Wong doesn’t say a word for a long minute. Stephen turns to leave, holding his books carefully in his arms. Usually his hands were able to give some support, but it was a bad day. Levi subtly curls underneath his arms to relieve some of the pressure.

“He’s not going to stop.” Wong says just as Stephen reaches the door. The words freeze him in place. “He’s been visiting every day since. Avoiding him is not going to solve anything.”

Stephen grits his teeth and whirls around, eyes alight with fury. “Then he should learn to mind his own business!”

Wong lowers his eyebrows a fraction, somehow appearing more disapproving than before. “He was there too, if you recall. The tournament-”

Stephen hisses, shoulders bunched up to his ears. “That was not a tournament. That farce could barely be considered combat.” And only because of how the other side defined the event.

A sigh rings through the room, long, deep and tired. It makes the part of Stephen that’s finally learned to care sit up and pay attention. A closer inspection of Wong has Stephen frown. He really hasn’t been aware of his surroundings lately. There was something almost disheveled about Wong’s appearance. Ties too loose, layers just slightly off. Lines of stress stretched his features tighter.

He purses his lips. He’s never been very good at showing concern. Stephen clicks his tongue. “How are you holding up?” Stephen throws back, almost carelessly.

“About as well as I can be.” Wong shakes his head. “If I’m ever able to get my hands on the person who botched that translation…”

Stephen snorts. The books shift in his arms and Levi pools more of itself underneath them. He adjusts to let the cloak take more of the weight. “You and everyone else there. Personally, I think some time in the Dark Dimension would do them some good.”

He stiffens immediately. His mouth ran faster than his thoughts, because once the words were out he couldn’t take them back. Wong pointedly tilts his head in Stephen’s direction. “That. That’s something you need to clarify with Stark. The man’s persistent. If you don’t take the initiative, he’s liable to do something drastic.”

Stephen glares at the floor, shoulders already inching back upwards. He doesn’t know when they even dropped. “I don’t see why he needs to know. I don’t see why anyone needs to know. It’s in the past.”

“Don’t be purposefully obtuse. You know why.”

Wong’s not wrong, but Stephen will deny it for as long as he can. It’s a mistake to flee from this conversation – Wong will get him back for this – but he could swear he was getting hives from it. It’s only in the safety of his own room that those hateful reminders hit home.

The worst part of this whole ordeal - more than the vulnerability, more than the lack of choice, more than even the kerfuffle of a choice of words causing this disaster - is that of everyone possible, the person closest to him at the time of The Incident was Tony.

His thoughts inevitably take a turn and, involuntarily, he remembers the day of The Incident.

The Impralians had superior numbers, firepower and technology. As much as Stephen hates to admit it, it was for the best that the Impralians also had the highest respect for champions of society. Or at least that’s how it was interpreted.

In the end, the governments of the world had agreed to send fighters to represent them for the right to remain unconquered. While the Earth might be able to find a way to survive regardless, millions of lives would have been lost from the confrontation. Everyone with even the slightest desire to increase the chances of victory showed up.

Only the best of the best were selected. As a warrior race with regenerative durability, there had to be enough heavy hitters to make an impact, but also a small enough number to remain manageable, as every fighter sent out would be matched with another enemy. The major media outlets practically went rabid and had their own tournament for the chance to broadcast the event to the world.

One hundred people were chosen to represent the Earth. Of those, ten were from Kamar Taj. The minimal number necessary to pull off some of the techniques that required multiple masters working together to accomplish.

Tony was among the number chosen. His intelligence and resourcefulness was determined to be an asset in the case of their enemy using unknown technology. Peter, thankfully, was not. Spiderman might be strong, smart and scrappy, but he also didn’t have many directly damaging methods of attack. When Spiderman was removed from the list of possible combatants, Stephen could see the disappointment on Peter’s face as clear as the relief on Tony’s face just behind him.

Though at least some of the ability to read the man came from time spent in proximity. After Thanos was defeated, Stark badgered Stephen until he threw his hands up and resigned himself to the man’s company. Somewhere along the line, Stark became Tony. It grew more difficult by the day not to slip up and reveal something from the fourteen million futures, but Stephen’s self control is impeccable. While the genius no doubt suspected something, Stephen was sure he had no clue just how intimately Stephen knew him.

And intimate is certainly the correct word to use. Stephen doesn’t blush easily, yet some of those futures slip past his iron grip and manage to throw him into a flustered mess.

They might have been treading the line towards something more between them in this future as well. After Tony and Pepper publicly broke off their engagement, Tony poured on the charm even more than he normally did just by being himself. Stephen was just starting to believe that their engagement was really over. That by some twist of fate, they might actually have a chance in this timeline.

Stephen fell in love with Tony Stark over and over and over again. In fourteen million different ways, but all leading towards the same end. Heartbreak.

There’s something about Tony that makes you want to put your trust in him. To take a chance. Stephen had bet the winning future on Tony’s ability to pull off a miracle with the right information and they succeeded. It made him want to take a chance on them too.

Fat chance of that happening now.

The biggest problem Stephen Strange ever has, is that he’s never quite sure what to do about his own emotions. Other people’s emotions, which he’s also terrible at handling, are easier to deal with than his own. At least their emotions are an outside factor he has to adjust for. His own responses to his emotions are limited to ignoring them or becoming an angry defensive mess. Christine could attest to that.

So when Stephen returns from a standard trip outside of their realm to handle a task only capable by the Sorcerer Supreme, it is, perhaps, not entirely unexpected that his reaction to Tony in his room is to spit out vitriol.

“Get out.” The words are packed with as much venom as Stephen can fit. He doesn’t look at the man, just moves swiftly past him towards his attached bathroom. The barest amount of care he can spare towards Tony is keeping his words short. Stephen’s well aware Tony doesn’t deserve being treated like this. That doesn’t stop him from doing so.

He never learns his lesson.

“Stephen.” The soft cradling whisper of his name pulls him up short. Back stiff, Stephen closes his eyes and internally curses the way he can feel them tear up. He knows if he opens them, the shine would be damning evidence.

“Stephen.” Tony repeats, and Stephen can hear him stepping closer until he can feel the warmth of his presence at his back. “Stephen, look at me. Please.”

He doesn’t want to. Stephen still vividly remembers the look on Tony’s face. A curse of his perfect memory. The horror and despair was on a level he hasn’t witnessed in any of the possible futures. He never wants to put that look on Tony’s face again.

In the end, he doesn’t move or say a word. But he also doesn’t move further away. Tony takes that as an invitation to wrap his arms round Stephen and press his face into the back of his neck.

“Alright, you don’t have to look at me if you don’t want to.” The pained lilt to Tony’s voice is nearly enough to make Stephen turn around. If he wasn’t so sure of the expression he would find on Tony’s face. If he saw the pity, Stephen would shatter like fine china.

“But let me apologize. I’m so, so incredibly sorry, Stephen. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

The bitter laugh is involuntary. “Like what then? You didn’t do anything that anyone else hadn’t.”

“And if I could I would have each and every one of them apologize too.” Tony swears with fierce protectiveness.

“Don’t.” Stephen shudders with something akin to pained resignation. “Everyone there was subjected to the same treatment. Your own horrors were put on display.”

Tony tightens his hold around him. “But no one else died countless times! No one else had an endless montage of suffering lasting over three weeks!”

“And what, that makes me entitled to special treatment?” Stephen hopes he manages to convey the sheer distaste he has at the thought. “Trauma isn’t comparable.”

“Yours was so bad it won us the victory by a landslide.” Tony counters and Stephen immediately tries to pull away. Tony’s grip manages to keep him in place. “Fuck. No. I shouldn’t have- Look, we’re clearly both terrible at this; just give me a moment.”

Stephen’s tempted to not, but then again, if at least some small part of him didn’t want to stay right here in Tony’s arms, he would have vanished long ago. The master of the Sanctum doesn’t have to be anywhere within it that he doesn’t want to be.

After a few minutes Tony says, “I pulled apart the platform the second I was given the green light. I might have bribed more than a few people to get permission for it too, but we don’t need to talk about that. I can’t pull the videos off the ‘net – infringing on too many human rights apparently – but there isn’t a monument to your pain on display anymore.”

The words fill Stephen with more relief than he thought himself capable of feeling. In exchange for a numbers disadvantage, the Impralians negotiated building a stage on Earth where the competition would be held. After seeing the layout, it was determined that there would be no environmental advantage in combat for them.

It turned out, it wasn’t an environmental advantage they had to worry about. The Impralians used it as a double edged sword. Their technology managed to harness emotional energy – most specifically pain – and use it as a weapon against their opponents. For whatever reason, they couldn’t make it one directional and use it unilaterally against them, but the Impralians relied on their superior regeneration to endure anything their enemies would throw back at them.

They’ve almost made it into an art form. Culturally, the display of their most vulnerable moments was seen as an honor. Something to be respected for. By syncing psychic energy waves in conjunction with the emotional energy, the respective combatants' most marked fighters would have those moments projected for all to view. All persons on the stage would have this signified with red auras located just above the location where the injury occurred. The more frequently the area was injured, the deeper the color and size of the aura.

Stephen’s aura was a dark crimson and stretched meters. It was no wonder he was selected as tribute by their system.

It wasn’t even a fight, really. For once in their history, the Impralian’s defeat was instant. They were prepared for much, but multiple successive ways of dying isn’t something anyone is ever prepared to experience.

Apparently, the Impralians were so impressed by what he managed to survive that they insisted on his presence during the final negotiations. The overwhelming victory won them more than a few concessions of reparations from the Impralians and so Stephen was wrangled into being put on display like a circus act.

It was for the sake of the world, so Stephen grit his teeth and bore it, but he vanished the second he could. He refused to be sucked into something else “no one but him” could assist with. If he wasn’t faced with solemn respect by the Impralians the entire time, he’s sure he would have snapped. What a world when his enemies were more tactful than his own species.

Stephen sags back into Tony’s hold a bit. “Pain is an old friend.” The words are barely above a whisper, but in the quiet between them it might as well have been shouted. “And it wasn’t countless.”

“What?” The confusion was audible.

Stephen sighs. A moment of silence. “17 million, five hundred forty-four thousand, three hundred twenty-six.”

It takes a heartbeat of time, but Tony’s sharp inhale tells Stephen he got the point. “You remember all of that?”

“Every last one.”

This time, when Tony tries to turn him around, Stephen lets him. He’s tired of fighting. At this point Stephen just wants to get this over with. “Stephen, look at me please.”

The desperation in Tony’s voice has Stephen open his eyes and look into Tony’s. The horror isn’t quite gone, but the pity he was so sure to exist was nowhere to be found. Instead, a deep and enduring sort of concern and care (and dare he say love) was all that was reflected back. It crumples his defenses more thoroughly and rapidly than any empathetic response ever could.

He breaks down, right there in Tony’s arms. The stress and suppressed emotions boil over, silent tears streaming down his face as he finally lets himself feel everything he’s ignored since this living nightmare began. Shoving his face into Tony’s neck to hide, he lets Tony hold him together until he can find it within himself to face reality again.

When he returns to awareness, they’ve migrated to his bed. Tony rubs his back gently and has Stephen tucked under his chin. Levi is wrapped around both of them and when Stephen looks up, he spies the dried tears running down Tony’s face too. There’s some comfort in knowing he wasn’t the only one to become overly emotional, even if he’d prefer this hadn’t happened at all.

“I had hoped to at least take you on a date before ending up in bed together.” Tony weakly jokes.

Despite the terrible timing, Stephen finds himself cracking a grin. He really is gone on this man, Stephen thinks helplessly. Mildly put out with himself, he says, “I’m usually not this easy.”

Tony snorts. “Stephen, babe, you’re anything but easy. It’s a good thing I like a challenge. So?”

“So?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Will you go on a date with me? Or at least stop avoiding me?”

If the literal horrors of Stephen’s life aren’t enough to drive Tony away from him, he doubts anything will. It’s the easiest thing in the world to say yes. Even if the path to getting here was the hardest.

#ironstrange #ironstrangeweek2023 #ironstrange fanfic #stephen strange #tony stark #tony stark/stephen strange #my writing #fanfic #mcu #marvel cinematic universe fanfic #marvel cinematic universe #mcu fanfic #angst #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #hurt stephen strange #protective tony stark #ao3 #my wriitng

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thegirlsgirlsstuff · 10 days

Text

HII PEEPS

OKAY SO I AM A HUUGEE IRONDAD THE ENTIRETY OF MARVEL FAN AND AS MY FELLOW FANS WOULD KNOW THE IRONDAD FANDOM IS SEVERELY DEPRIVED OF ACTUAL IRONDAD MOMENTS.

SO WHAT IS THE SOLUTION YOU ASK?

cue the dramatic drums please

*dramatic drums play*

FANFICTIONSS

OFC ITS ANOTHER WAY TO INCREASE YOUR DELULU BUT. DESPERATE TIMES, DESPERATE MEASURES AMIRITE?

ANYWAAAY I READ THIS REALLY REALLY REALLY GOOD FIC CALLED O BROTHER, WHERE ART THOU BY THESKEPTILEPTIC AND MY GOD GUYS YOU ARE MISSING OUTTT THE PETER WHUMP?? PROTECTIVE IRONDAD?? BOSSY AND PRECIOUS AND ALL THINGS NICE MORGAN STARK?? NWH FIX IT TYPE?? ALIVE TONY?? CHECK CHECK CHECK

ITS SOO GOOD I ACTUALLY SACRIFICED A LOT OF MY SLEEP FOR IT AND TRUST ME ITS REALLLY GOOD.

IT ISNT ENDGAME COMPLIANT OR FFH COMPLIANT... OR NWH COMPLIANT BUT. BUT. ITS SOO GOOD

GIVE IT A TRY AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT ABOUT IT

OKAY LOVE YOUUU BYEE

#irondad #peter parker whump #protective tony stark #precious morgan stark #irondad fic recs #nwh fix it #domestic avengers

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mutantgirl80 · 2 years

Text

The Lost Girl Chapter 3: The Lunch Date

Pairing: Female OC x Tony Stark

Word Count: 3481

Rating: MA ( sexual content, memory loss )

Summary: Mariko runs into a ghost from her past while out on a lunch date with Tony.

Mariko wakes as she ended the night. Her small body lays curled against Tony's. After spending so long in a cage, the alarm is a sound that is unfamiliar but not one she had missed. Tony groans and reaches over her, slapping the clock to shut it up. His hand rests on the small of her back and his lips meet her forehead in a soft kiss as the tone stops.

"So is this still a yes?" He asks, moving his hand up along the curve of her back and running his fingertips through her curls.

"Hmmm." A sarcastic smile spreads across her lips. She can feel his chest rise and fall against her cheek with each breath he takes. "I think it might be." His hand moves further into her hair as he pulls her up closer to him. Reacting to his touch, she arches her back up and presses her lips to his in a kiss. She woke worried the night before had been a mistake, but it appears this isn't his intention.

He moves his hand to caress her cheek as his lips turn up into a grin. "I've got a meeting with some military suits today. Do you want to come with? I'm sure Rhodie would be happy to see you." He sits up, letting the blankets wrapped around them fall back onto her.

"No," Mariko shakes her head, quite certain of her answer. "I've got something I need to do today." Her nerves are already on edge for the task at hand, but she knows it needs to happen. She can't go back into the world he wants her to be a part of without at least trying to fix things at the school. She hadn't left on bad terms, but her life as a mercenary did her no favors there.

"Ah. Ok." He gives a sad nod. "Lunch then?" He stands, still naked, and walks to a dresser on the left side of the room. Rummaging through the drawer for a moment, he tosses something in her direction. Mariko has only a few seconds to react before it comes within inches of her cheek. Her hand snaps up and her fingers clutch a set of keys as they smack into her palm. "I know you like the Lotus. It's yours for the day." He casts a devious look her way before grabbing a towel and walking toward the shower.

Wrapping the blanket around her as she stands, Mariko wanders into the bathroom after him. Stopping beside the door, she tosses the keys onto the pile of her clothing from the night before. Frowning at her lack of choices for the day, she drops the blankets and walks the rest of the way to join him in the shower.

Hot jets hit her from all angles as she steps past the glass door. A heavy stream of water falls from the ceiling. It is such a drastic change from the icy trickle she had in prison. Even the shower in Wade's apartment paled in comparison. Raising her hands over her head, she breathes in the heavy steam of the shower. The water rushing over Tony's body draws her attention. Raising a hand, she traces the path of a drop of water as it trickles down his back. As Mariko's hand moves down his body, he turns to face her.

"I'm so happy you're here." His hand raises to rest on the curve of her hip, drawing her closer to him as he speaks. The heat of the water warms the air between them as his hand glides over her body. Steam fills the small space of the shower, making them both breathe heavier.

"Me too." Mariko smiles up at him before resting her cheek against his chest. She can't help but wonder how he showers with the metal device there. His right hand moves up to her hair, pulling it in a slow, deliberate motion to turn her face up to his. Leaning in closer, opens his mouth as his lips meet hers. His other hand moves down along the curve of her ass. Grasping the back of her thigh with a soft growl, he lifts her leg and pushes her against the back wall of the shower.

Mariko tightens her legs around him, pulling him in closer to her as his tongue traces along hers. His hand moves down to her stomach and between her legs as he holds her against the wall of the shower. His fingertips play against the soft folds of her body, opening her up to him.

His teeth press against her plump bottom lip with a moan as she feels him press inside of her. Pushing her back hard against the tile wall, he moves with a slow, deliberate passion. This side of him had been absent in his hunger for her the night before. Her body tingles as his hands slide over her, burning hot beneath the warm stream of the shower. Continuing to kiss her through each thrust, he moves faster. His breath falls harder against her lips as his eyes meet her.

Mariko moves her arms from his shoulders and curls her fingers into his hair. Her eyes remain locked on his. The expression on his face as he gazes into her eyes turns her on even more. "Mmh. Fuck me, Tony." She whispers as she feels the muscles in her stomach begin to tighten. Her slick wet lips move against his as she speaks. He moans again and presses his lips harder to hers. His movements before faster, harder, more deliberate. He begins to throb inside of her seconds before she clutches his hair. A soft cry lands against his cheek as waves of pleasure wash over her body.

Mariko's legs shake beneath her as he pulls away from her and lets the water wash him clear. She slumps back, resting her head against the wall as she catches her breath. Closing the distance between them again, he traces the back of his hand along her cheek. "I could do that all day." He grins before stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around himself. Fog spreads across the glass door, obscuring her view of him as he walks further into the bedroom.

Mariko spends several more minutes in the shower. She tries to not let his wealth and privilege go to her head. Still, she can't help but enjoy the luxuries available to her. She had spent so long with nothing. Even before she found herself in prison, she had so little. Money was a come-and-go kind of thing with Wade. Even before meeting him, she spent months homeless and alone on the streets.

By the time Mariko finally returns to the bedroom, Tony has already left for the day. Walking over to her pile of clothing, she spots a note on a nearby nightstand. As she picks it up, a stack of hundred-dollar bills falls from the table. Holding the note up she reads it, 'Surprise me with something pretty. Love, Tony'. Mariko rolls her eyes, angry with the idea of him spending money on her again. She reaches down to grab her clothes and slides them back on. Grabbing the keys, she folds the money and stuffs it into a back pocket. Gathering the rest of her things, she walks out of the apartment and down the hall to the elevator.

Once in the garage, she walks past a string of cars. Tony had always been one to enjoy various high-priced toys. Cars were no exception. Thinking back, she remembered the various gadgets and devices he always had. Walking past five cars, she finally finds the Lotus. Its license plate, surprising no one, read STARK 6. Of course, he keeps them in numerical order. He was a bit hedonistic, but he was also such a giant nerd. Giggling at his quirks, she clicks the button to unlock it. As she nestles down into the driver's seat, she adjusts the mirror. Catching sight of her reflection she gazes for several minutes.

A heavy sigh breaks the silence as her gaze moves over the tattered clothes she wears. She had let herself go recently. As much as she hates the idea of being a charity case, there was no way she could continue to dress like this around him. Deciding to take him up on his offer, she types into the GPS and a list of malls appears on the screen. Picking one, she turns the engine on and the Lotus purrs into action.

As she drives, Mariko watches for police. She knows she's done nothing wrong. Still, she can't shake the feeling that being out in the open exposes her and makes her more vulnerable. For the first time since her release, she feels alone. The idea chills her to the bone. She always felt so carefree and independent with Wade, but she didn't have a fear of going back to prison back then. She always knew the life they lived was criminal. Still, in the moment, it always felt as though they were invincible.

After a short time wandering the mall, she walks into one of the bathrooms, arms loaded with bags. Pushing past the swinging metal door and into the stall, she drops the bags at her feet. Sitting on the toilet, she begins the task of removing her old clothes. Digging through the bags, she pulls out a burgundy pencil skirt. The length is a few inches above her knee, but the slit on the left side goes well up over her thigh. Turning her back to the small mirror in the stall, she reaches for the zipper. A white half tank and pair of black panties come from another bag.

Remembering the lingerie set she bought, she removes the skirt and rummages for the bra. Pulling the bra and panties over her body, she adjusts the straps and returns the skirt. Adding the half tank, she tops it with an oversized fuzzy tan cardigan. Sitting on the toilet, she pulls a shoebox from one of the bags. Removing the lid from the shoebox, she retrieves a pair of white stilettos. She slips them onto her feet, adjusts the straps, and fastens the buckles. Finally, she tops the outfit with an oversized pair of black sunglasses. She feels like a caricature, but at least she looks a little more like someone that would hang out with Tony.

Mariko wobbles for a few moments as she stands, trying to gain her balance. The prison flats and boots she wore for the past several years hadn't done much to train her for this. For a moment she wonders if the old Mariko knew how to do it. Shaking her head, she forces that thought from her mind. That is the last thing she needs to think about right now. She has enough going on without depression rearing its ugly head.

Finally stepping out of the bathroom, she hoists the bags over her shoulders to return to the Lotus. As she walks through the mall, she watches her reflection in each window she passes. It is so different from the image she had looked at for so long. Walking through the last row of stores before the parking lot, she spots a makeup store. Ducking into the store, she looks over the testers available. First, she puts on grey eyeshadow. Dark black mascara and red lipstick finish the look.

Reaching the car, she sits once again staring at her reflection in awe. She can't shake the feeling of disbelief that this was her life now. Narrowing her eyes, she gazes at herself, trying to strengthen her resolve to not get used to this. As much as she doesn't want to get sucked into Tony's lifestyle she knows she has no better alternative. For the first time in her life, there is no one around to make plans or decisions for her. She is completely alone and terrified by that fact.

A jingle plays from the car's steering wheel, startling her out of her thoughts. Mariko extends her finger to press a flashing button on the dashboard. As she does a screen materializes over the windshield. An image of Tony comes into focus as the screen continues to solidify. Three men in military uniforms stand in conversation a few steps behind him.

"Wow.." Tony stares at her for a minute without saying another word.

"I look that ridiculous?" Mariko giggles, looking shyly up at the screen.

"You're kidding, right? You look amazing."

Mariko's grin widens. "Well, don't get used to buying me things." She pauses, but adds "I don't enjoy being bought."

"I'll get right on that after I buy you lunch." His familiar smirk returns. "I'm sending coordinates to the car's GPS. See you in a few?"

Mariko hasn't begun the day's task but can't bring herself to tell him no. "Can't wait." She smiles, pushing the button to turn the car back on. Another button press and the GPS coordinates load into the main console screen on the car. Clicking the gearshift into drive, she follows the path as the GPS guides her to a restaurant. As she pulls into the parking lot, she can see Tony standing outside the door with a group of men. He immediately spots the car and walks over to pull the door open as she parks.

"Hey, gorgeous." His lips move against her ear as he places a soft kiss on the edge of her cheekbone. His arm rests on her back, leading her as he walks to join the other men. He introduces her as the hostess comes to lead the group to their table.

Mariko is disinterested in the conversation going on at the table once they are seated. Although she respects the work Tony does, it isn't an interest she shares with him in the least. She immediately feels better by his side, though. He has a commanding presence that makes her feel safe regardless of where they are. Of course, knowing that he is a snap of the fingers away from full body armor and lasers may have helped.

Picking at her salad, she lets her attention wander to the others in the restaurant. Her gaze makes it to a peculiar woman sitting at a table on their left side. She wears a deep purple dress and has flowing raven hair that frames her shoulders. Half staring over at the woman, Mariko nods at the 'weapons blah blah' talk at her table from time to time. Her eyes move over the table, studying the food the woman has ordered. Reaching the woman's companion, her mouth falls open in a gasp. "...Wade..."

As though he hears her, the man turns to look in Mariko's direction. He is missing the scars that once lined his face, and he actually has hair. Even so, there is no denying his identity as their eyes meet. Hoping he hasn't seen her, Mariko fumbles to move her oversized sunglasses down over her eyes. Her hand raises to her hair, fluffing it over the left side of her face to obscure his view of her.

"You ok?" Tony's voice breaks through her panicked thoughts. She is so flustered she forgot he is beside her for a moment.

Taking a steadying breath, she smiles in his direction. "I'm fine." She lies. "The sun was in my face." Trying to change the subject, she picks more at her salad and nods, feigning interest in the conversation going on around her. As Tony returns to the discussion, she can't help but let her attention drift back to Wade and the woman in purple. Her mind had to be playing tricks on her.

She wants to see him so badly he is appearing where he isn't.

There is no way he could have lost his scars. If hair was even possible for him anymore it would have taken a lot longer. The last time she saw him he still looked the way she knew him to. Counting on her fingers under the table, she tries to tally up how many months had passed since she last saw him. Giving up, she returns her gaze to the pair. As odd as it feels to say about her former lover, this woman is definitely out of his league. The two seem in deep conversation as Mariko peers in their direction. None of it makes sense. Here he has a whole new life. Hell, apparently even a whole new skin.

After several minutes, the pair gets up to leave. Not wanting to lose sight of them, Mariko whispers to Tony, excusing herself from the table. Getting up, she trails far enough behind them to be inconspicuous as they walk through the room.

A woman with a microphone walks through the room, drawing Mariko's attention. A man with a thick beard and large gut trudges behind her with a camera. Mariko turns her head to watch the pair as they march through the tables. A crowd begins to form around them, causing her to lose sight of them. As she turns back around, Mariko finds herself face first in Wade's arm.

"Shit..." She growls under her breath before looking up at him. "Hey, Wade..." She smiles, completely unsure of what to say or why she felt such a powerful urge to follow them. His familiar scent sends waves of nostalgia through her as she tries to fight everything it awakens.The bridge of his nose wrinkles in confusion as he looks down at her. "Her there. Um. How do you know my name?" His head tilts a few inches as he studies her.

"Wade...?" Mariko's eyes widen. For a moment she questions if she has tackled a stranger. "I uh, well..."

Before she can form her sentence the woman in purple swoops in. "Please excuse my husband. He does get clumsy sometimes." She flashes a fake smile and pulls Wade away as he stares back at Mariko.

She stands for several minutes, watching the woman pull Wade through the room and into the hall. Her words slowly processing in her thoughts as the shock of the encounter fades.

"Husband?!?!" Mariko exclaims in amazement as the word finally registers. He sure has moved on. He's moved on so much that he completely forgot her. With this new revelation, she doesn't feel so bad about what has happened, twice now, with Tony. Mariko curls her hands into tight fists as the woman's words play in her mind. She can't believe she had ached to see him again, and this is what she finds. Still, the electricity of being close to him still courses through her blood.

As she walks back to the table, she realizes where the reporter was going. Trying to inch her way over to a corner of the room to hide, she slumps against a wall. Her eyes meet Tony's and he motions for her to join the group. Reluctantly, she walks back to take her seat next to his.

One of the other men finishes his interview and the reporter turns the microphone to Tony. "Mr. Stark, I understand that the missile system isn't the only news for Stark Industries this week." She looks over to Mariko with a smile as she awaits an answer. Tony looks at the woman with a grin, not willing to give her the gossip she's looking for.

"We hear Miss Yashida was recently released from federal prison. Would you like to comment on that, Mr. Stark?" The woman presses on, getting a little too personal for Mariko's liking.

"We all make mistakes," Tony replies, still not giving the woman what she is hoping for. Feeling quite small, Mariko smiles nervously at the camera.

The woman laughs and turns to the cameraman, motioning for him to follow her as she makes her way back through the tables and out of the room. Mariko had forgotten that being in the spotlight is part of the territory with Tony. No matter how much she dislikes it, it is something she has to get used to if she plans on being around him.

Wanting to get out of there after the way the day has turned out so far, Mariko whispers a goodbye in Tony's ear. Excusing herself from the table, she rushes back to the car. Once inside, she turns the engine on but sits for several long minutes as tears stream down her cheeks. Of all the things Wade could have done to her, he had to do this. The same as Logan. Perhaps she is that replaceable.

As she drives to the Xavier school she knows she isn't ready to go there yet. In an attempt to clear her thoughts, she drives aimlessly through the outskirts of town for just under an hour. Finally turning down the highway that leads to the school, she slows her speed to a near crawl until she reaches the driveway.

Parking the car, she sits for several minutes trying to will herself to go in and round off an already miserable day.

#tony stark #Tony Stark fanfiction #tony stark fluff #tony stark x oc #tony stark smut #avengers fanfiction #avengers x oc #avengers smut #protective tony stark #marvel oc #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel smut #iron man #iron man smut

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