#dark!Tony Stark

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 4

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You shiver and hide behind your eyelids. The air swirls around you in a cyclone as you clasp to the icy metal against you. You can't believe this is happening and yet your imminent doom cannot be denied. 

You squeal as Tony lets you go. You squeeze him tighter, knowing you won't be able to hold on forever. Not with the whipping winds and bone-deep chill.  

You brace yourself, trembling, and your feet meet solid ground. A gentle tap on your side has you tearing away as the dearth of sound and motion hits you like a truck. You look at Tony in defiance, your embarrassment curdling just under your skin. 

"That was fun," he chuckles as his mask retracts to reveal a taunting smirk. 

"Whatever. Go back to New York, I'll find my way--" 

You turn and swallow your words. Your grandmother's house is right behind you. You peer around and push your shoulders back. You really aren't winning this one. 

"Can't say I never did anything for ya. Lot quicker than the bus," he snorts. 

"Oh," you spin back to him, "so you think this makes us even?" 

"It's a start," he shrugs. "Now," he holds his wrist up as if to check the time and a projection casts from a microscopic projector. He swipes through the wall of text as a lens extends from his suit and hovers in front of his eyes. "If I'm gonna get that trailer, I need to speak with the leasee, a Darlene? Is that mommy?" 

You suck in your cheeks and puff out through you nose. It's like pulling wisdom teeth but you're getting somewhere. You put your hands on your hips and nod. 

"Yeah, I'll go see if she's home." 

"You know, I'm not sure how things work around here," he lowers his arm as the projection disappears and the lens folds back into his suit, "not sure about how things work around here but typically when someone brings you home, you invite them inside." 

You stare at him, your brows arching. He scoffs and tilts his head. 

"Tell ya what, I'll even dust my boots off." 

He kicks his feet and brushes his metal gauntlets of his chest place. All at once the suit folds into itself. You frown and examine him, trying to figure out where it's hiding under his blazer. He straightens his tie and comes out his hair with his fingers.  

"There, all dolled up to meet mom," he winks.  

You chew your lip. He's annoying but he says he's going to help. Besides, you'd rather he deal with your mom and be done with him. 

"Fine, come on." 

You turn and march away. He snickers and follows, "so hospitable." 

"Well, sorry to disappoint but we don't have a butler." You go up onto the low porch and pull open the screen door with a squeak. 

"Huh, that really what you think of me?" He grabs the door above your head as you unlock the inner one. "I sit in my ass all day and drink champagne and smoke cigars? I'll have you know I do all that and save the world when it comes calling " 

"Mm, got it." You drone as you push inside, "mom? Grandma? We got company." 

"Really rolling out that red carpet," he scoffs. 

"Stay here," you say as you head down the hall. 

"You know I don't usually take orders," he intones, his voice drifting off into words you can't make out clearly, "...kinda hot..." 

You don't think it's too bad. Your grandma's place is usually blistering in the summer but it's just about tolerable today. Her bedroom door is closed, signalling she's probably sleeping, but your mother isn't where you expect to her. Her ash tray is on the table but the kitchen is empty. 

The back door is open. You swing open the screen and lean out. She's puffing a cigarette over your grandmother's pansies. 

"Mom, someone's here about the trailer." 

"Tell the damn landlord I'm not payin' til I get a new one," she snarls. 

"It's not him." You insist. 

"Huh, insurance peddler?" She butts out the smoke on the wooden railing, leaving the stub there. 

"Tony Stark." You answer bluntly. 

She cackles, "fucking smart ass. Go away." 

You state at her and she scowls. She huffs and tramps over to you. You hold the door for her and she enters. 

"You and your goddamn jokes..." she grumbles as she crosses the kitchen.  

You stay a few feet back as you follow. She stumbles to a halt as she reaches the doorway. She coughs and looks at you over her shoulder, "holy shit." 

You shrug and shoo her with your fingers. 

"Darlene, wonderful to meet you," Tony sounds almost charming as his footfalls creak on the floorboards. 

"Mr. Stark," she preens. You haven't heard that simper in ages. "What are you doing here?" 

"Well, I did say I'd fix what I broke." He explains. "Really unfortunate what happened. Sometimes we can't avoid a little collateral but just happy no one was hurt." 

"Of course," she chimes. "Well, it wasn't much but it was our home." 

"Humble," he praises. "Your daughter has been a great help too. Such a lovely girl." 

"Eh, oh, I s'pose," her voice slants with uncertainty.  

"We got a lot of details to go over. I had my people come up with some options but I want you to be happy so I'll leave the choice up to you. Gonna take a bit so how about I order dinner. My treat, of course." He pauses and you peek put from the kitchen. He smirks past your mother, "you like pizza?" 

"Oh, Mr. Stark how generous. Whatever you like is good enough for us." She giggles. You wince. She doesn't giggle. 

You retreat back into the kitchen. She's just like those kids clamouring for autographs and the star-struck residents completely unbothered by the burning ruin. They don't see anything but him. 

[cvrnelians]

premonition - dark!drabble

dark!tony stark x reader: Tony Stark is in love with his student intern. Terrified of the prospect of you leaving, he sets a plan into motion that could be considered unethical. Kinda. Sorta. Maybe. A little.

As far as Tony is concerned, being the bad guy isn’t really so bad when the ends justify the means.

warnings: some seriously manipulative behavior/non-con elements.

Technology isn’t always designed with the consumer in mind. Well, depending on your definition of the word “consumer.”

In many ways, Tony viewed being a genius as both a blessing and a curse. An overthinker by nature, he couldn’t help but view his situation—your situation—through two completely different lenses.

Lens one: Erasing your memory through the use of StarkTech was doing you a boatload of favors. You had been seriously traumatized, permanently altered by what you had endured. Granting you the opportunity to be free from that pain was Tony’s gift to you. That was what this really was, wasn’t it? A gift. An act of selflessness intended to better someone else’s life.

Your life.

It wasn’t like it was undeserved. You had put in some seriously long hours as Tony’s intern. Assistant. Whatever. 

You missed out on birthdays, holidays, plans with friends, family gatherings—hell, even your own college graduation—just so you could be there when he needed you. And god, did he need you. Did you not deserve to be compensated for your unprecedented level of devotion and dedication?

So, like. Okay. Maybe you didn’t have much choice in the matter. But it wasn’t like he had you handcuffed to his bedpost or something. There was some degree of flexibility here. He had agreed to pay all of your father’s medical bills along with your tuition and living expenses under the condition that you worked for him on-call, around the clock. You knew what that meant when you agreed to take on the position.

Killer deal, right?

Yes, you were poor. And yes, your father had been critically ill. And yes, it would have been next to impossible for you to survive had someone not intervened and helped you out financially. But again, you had every opportunity in the world to tell him to fuck off. You could have turned the job—and his offers to help you when you needed it most—down. You could have walked away, trying and failing to keep yourself and your father alive just that much longer. But you didn’t, because you were one smart cookie. Because you needed his help.

Because you needed him.

Through erasing your memory, Tony was paying it forward. He was rewarding you with a mind and body void of all of that darkness. You wouldn’t have to relive those moments of watching your father undergo painful medical treatments, only for him to end up dying anyway. No, you would never have to relive those memories ever again.

Because you wouldn’t have any memories at all.

What an amazing opportunity, to be a blank slate. Tony simultaneously feared and longed for that level of freedom. Granted, you would be very disoriented at first. But you wouldn’t feel lost or alone or confused for long—Tony would make sure to fill you in on what happened; how you had an unexpected seizure that resulted in a serious head injury, causing you to forget everything you had once known. He would bring you up to speed on how you had been living the life you had always wanted, the life you deserved to have. He was really looking forward to telling you about how emotionally fulfilled and financially successful you were. And hey. If you just so happened to get a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist husband out of the deal…lucky you.

Everyone was already speculating that you two were together, anyway. Why not give the people what they wanted, make ’em feel smart by proving them right?

Now, switching gears to the dreaded lens two. Because if there was anything Tony loved most in the world, it was torturing himself.

Lens two: Erasing your memory through the use of StarkTech was a gross misuse of power and resources. Tony was knowingly and actively choosing to harm you for his own benefit. He had taken advantage of you by using your father’s illness, medical expenses, and the crushing weight of student loan debt as leverage. He had fashioned a dynamic wherein your focus was all on him, all the time. He was an innovator, after all. Building, constructing, creating, thinking ahead. That was what he did. It was what made Tony Stark, Tony Stark. And in knowing that, he had used his strengths to undermine yours.

Leading up to the decision to use this new invention on you was a steadily growing sense of panic. Beneath his cocky veneer, he was petrified. Your father wasn’t sick anymore. He was dead, and so there was nothing left for Tony to pay for. You had gotten your degree with not one cent of debt hanging over your head, and with all of the earnings you had compiled in your savings account, you would be free to pursue other ventures without having to worry about paying rent for a very long time.

Now that all of your needs had been met, who was to say you wouldn’t just up and abandon him? You seemed like a genuinely loyal person (that was just one of many things he loved about you), and you often acknowledged how much he had done for you. But what if, deep down, you resented him for not being able to keep your father alive, even with the most expensive treatments and qualified doctors known to man? What if you were already plotting to pursue other endeavors? If that was the case, you had to have been well and truly out of your mind. Did you seriously think you were going to be able to survive without him? Would you really sink so low as to leaving him hanging like that, after everything he had done for you?

As someone that cared for you deeply, Tony was willing to be the bad guy in order to save you from yourself. Not only that, he was willing to do this proactively. You hadn’t exactly stated that you wanted to stop working for him, but he knew that day would most certainly come. It was not an if, but a when. You were young, and young people needed change. He could sense it.

He didn’t like lens two, but he simply couldn’t avoid looking at everything from all possible angles. He was willing to live with his guilt so long as the ends justified the means.

And they would. You would be happier this way. Tony would give you everything you ever wanted.

And so, in this case, he would argue that this particular device had been designed with the consumer in mind. Both consumers, because you were each benefiting from yet another one of Tony Stark’s brilliant inventions.

What you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you, right?

this is a reupload that i wrote about a year and a half ago 🎉 i've been thinking about making it a multi-chapter story so that might be a thing

[springdandelixn]

With Flying Colors

Summary: Your excitement about being an intern at Stark Industries turns into a nightmare you weren’t prepared for.

Warnings: 18+ content, noncon, unprotected sex, bondage, manipulation, age gap (reader is legal), power imbalance, some use of drugs, reader is smart af but also painfully oblivious, not all things that glitter are gold.

Characters: Dark!Professor!Tony Stark x F!Reader

A/N: This fic is my entry to @ironlady1993​‘s I love you 3000 dark! writing challenge 2022. I’ve chosen the trope Professor/Student with Tony and F!Reader. It has been such a joy to write this and to write Tony once again. Also tagging one of my babies, @fictive-sl0th​

p.s. Belated Happy Birthday to you, my dear.

Side note: The Avengers do not exist in this universe—yet.

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope you guys enjoy! ❤️

“See me after class.” 

You swallow thickly and nod at Professor Stark’s words when he passes you, your head bowed down as embarrassment and nervousness mix within your veins for you’re the only one who hasn’t gotten their final paper back. You try to peek up, seeing the array of frowns and smiles on your classmates’ faces while they stare at their thesis, and you don’t understand why yours was singled out. 

Seeing the professor after class, especially with Professor Stark, was never a good sign. You’ve once seen Maya run out of the lecture hall before, crying after he gave such detailed comments on her essay during the midterm exam. And you don’t doubt that you’re the next in line to receive the brunt of his tactlessness. 

But you know to yourself that you’ve done your research right. You’ve cited all your resources at the back of the page and made a thorough review of all the points you’ve made about Vibranium. Yes, it was a big leap for a simple engineering student to study but you were confident with your work, and passionate even about how such an element can reshape the future. 

So you just don’t understand why he hasn’t returned your paper.

“For those who passed, don’t forget that if you wish to enroll in my advanced class for senior year, application forms can be found on the school’s website.” Your professor calls as he makes his way back to the front. “And to those of you who have failed, forget about seeing me for re-dos or considerations. My office will be closed for such nonsense because my decision is final. Dismissed.”

Sighs of resignation resound throughout the room as the students pack their things and file out. You stuff your laptop back in your bag and stand, eyes looking at the door then over at Professor Stark while he stacks a couple of papers in his hand and stows them in his briefcase. You swallow thickly and make your way to the front, wishing to be one of the students to be leaving, closing up the chapter of this course. 

You stand beside a desk at the front and wait for your professor at his table, hands fiddling in the pocket of your hoodie and feet anxiously shuffling against the tiled floor. There’s a subtle smile on Professor Stark’s face when he glances up at you, waiting for the door to close before he faces you completely, the grin turning full on his lips. 

“Please, sit.”

You do. 

He rounds his desk and leans against the edge, a file in his hands, the pages flipping against his fingers. You gulp hard, a nervous tick you’ve grown to have, when he looks at you once again, and you look down at the desk of the seat when he places the folder atop it. 

“You might be wondering why I asked to speak with you.” He starts and you simply nod in response, the questions you wanted to ask dying on your tongue. “Well, I’m not here to scold you, if that’s what you’re worried about. In fact, I’m here to praise you.” 

“I—I’m sorry?”

“Your paper, sweetheart, was the best one out of the entire class.” He nods towards the folder on the desk and you startle. Slowly, you open it up, and your eyes grow wide when you see the mark written in red at the top right corner. 

You’re lost for words.

“You passed. More than that, you got a perfect mark.” You hear his smile and you can’t help but feel the corners of your lips slowly lift. You got a perfect mark! “Your research on how vibranium can reshape the future was very riveting.” He praises. “All your notes and the detailed analysis you constructed to make it respond to brain waves just blew my mind.” You look up at him, a wide smile now kissing your lips.

“I—I thought it was mediocre at best.” You confess. “I didn’t think—”

“But you did, sweetheart, and a lot of it.” He chuckles, his arms crossing over his chest and his head tilting to the side as he looks at you. “Although that’s not why I asked for you to see me.”

You blink, confusion filling your senses. Why else would he want to speak with you?

“Have you gotten a chance to find a place for your internship?” He asks. 

You shake your head. 

“Why not?”

“I’m only a junior, professor. I was hoping to get one next year.” 

“But you are aware you can get one even as a junior, right?” He looks at you expectantly and you nod once again. “Perfect! How would you like to do a summer internship at Stark Industries? I could really use someone like you.” He beams and you gawk at him in disbelief. “Of course, it will be paid.” He starts once more. “The company offers its employees free meals for the day and some recreation to let off some steam from work. We can even provide for your lodging since the campus is pretty far from the company and it would save you some time from the New York rush.”

Did he just offer you an internship at his company? Stark Industries is known to be one of the leading technology companies in the world, which your professor owns, and he’s personally offering you a slot within his ranks. This couldn’t be real. 

“T—That’s very generous of you Mr. Stark.” You fumble, the nervousness from earlier having already seeped out from your bones, leaving you stunned yet excited at the opportunity that is being presented to you. “I don’t know what to say, professor.”

“You can start by saying ‘Thank you, Mr. Stark.’ and end with ‘I would gladly accept your offer.’” He chuckles and you can’t help but mimic him, amused at his tenacity. 

You want to think about it, to weigh the options you have in your hand. But you don’t really have anything to consider, you haven’t even begun looking for an internship. Yet, your professor is already offering you one, probably even the best one, and would you really turn away from the window? Out of all the students in his class, he chose you. Not Brandon who is a super fan of his work or even Alyssa who’s basically a show-off just to grab your professor’s attention. You.

And working for Stark Industries would no doubt boost your chances of finding another company that’s equally respectable. A big stepping stone to set your career on becoming an engineer on its course.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” You echo, a soft smile on your lips. “I would gladly accept your offer.”

“Beautiful.” Professor Stark grins, pushing himself away from the desk and walking back behind it to gather his things. You stand, all the same, picking up the folder with your thesis and tucking it between your arms and chest. “I’ll give the go signal to our HR and have them email you the details for your first day.”

“Thank you again, professor.” You thank him once more, feeling elated at the sudden turn of events.

He snaps his briefcase close and faces you. “No. Thank you, sweetheart. I can’t wait for you to join us.” He says, finishing off with a wink, chuckling at the playful act before walking with him out of the lecture hall.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips when you haul the final box into your new apartment. You weren’t really planning on taking up Professor Stark’s offer of free lodging but after being almost 30 minutes late on your first day and struggling to get into the subway during the rush hour, you caved and took on the perk, giving up your slot in the campus dormitories and packing up your things, never to see the cramped box space again. 

And after seeing how spacious the provided lodging was during the tour on your first day; a two-bedroom unit with an open-concept kitchen attached to the living room, the master’s complete with an en-suite and a walk-in closet and even a balcony that oversees the New York skyline, you mentally cursed yourself for not agreeing immediately. 

You could have saved all the time you used for moving and focused on your tasks in the company. Though you’re thankful for Professor Stark’s aid; giving you a couple of days off to pack and hiring movers to help you, though you couldn’t help but feel too indebted to him. Offering you the job and then helping you move, you’ll just have to pay it off by working extra hard on your internship. Prove to him that all the decisions he's made so far with you are worth it.

You close the door and begin unpacking the last box; some textbooks and sentimental memorabilia to decorate the shelves in the living room. You place a photo of your mom and dad on the side table at the end of the couch, a small smile playing on your lips as you think of how proud they would be of you once you tell them of your latest achievement.  

One by one, you slide the books into place and stop short when you hear a knock on the door. Sitting the stack in your hand on the coffee table, you make your way to the front room and look through the peephole, your brows furrowing when you see a tall, stout man with curly hair, donning a tuxedo, on the other side, a bottle of, what you suspect to be, champagne in one hand and a bouquet in the other. 

Who’s that? You ask yourself and let out a breath, unlocking the door and poking your head through the open space, blinking up at the stranger. 

“Can I help you?” You ask.

He doesn’t respond, simply looking at you with a stoic expression yet his eyes seem to be judging you all the same. You want to close the door and hide but you don’t want to be rude either. Just when you’re about to ask once more what he needed, he holds out the flowers and the bottle to you.

“I’m sorry but you must have the wrong—”

“Compliments from Mr. Stark.” The man interjects, voice monotone and expressionless. 

“Oh. Okay.” You say. Stunned. You take the gifts from his hold and your eyebrows knit in confusion when the man turns and leaves without another word, giving your thanks to the air instead.

You close the door with your foot and walk over to the kitchen to drop the items on the counter. The bottle, as you guessed, is champagne, and not the cheap kind either as you eye the label. Don Perignon. And the flowers, there seem to be almost two dozen roses in the bundle, leaning over and taking in its fragrance. Fresh. 

You pick up the card nestled in the petals, carefully flipping it open, and recognizing the cursive letters of your professor’s handwriting. 

‘Sorry I wasn’t there to welcome you on your first day, sweetheart. But rest assured I will be present to officially welcome you to the company. Have a glass of champagne for me. —T.’

You knew your professor came from old money—the history of Stark Industries is no secret to the public—but you never imagined he’d spend such things on you, one of his measly students in the university. And yet what lays before you is a piece of his wealth and you feel a slight sense of trepidation creeping up your spine if you were to mishandle such gifts. 

Grabbing the bottle, you tuck it in a safe spot on the kitchen counter before rummaging through the cupboards for a vase to put the flowers in. Once you’ve placed the bouquet on the coffee table in the living room, you set back to unpacking the rest of your boxes, your eyes darting to the flowers every once in a while as the scent of the blossoms invades your senses and slowly fills the entire apartment. 

The door beeps and slides open after scanning your badge on the pad. You’ve only been in the company for a week and still, the advancement of all the facilities takes your breath away. You walk to your desk, eyes blinking when you see a stack of folios ready for you to dive in. It’s not what you really wanted to do when you thought of your internship but it’s definitely something you expected. 

All careers would render any individual to start from the ground up. To learn how the company works and how each department functions. And if you were being honest with yourself, you don’t really mind doing such a mundane task in the most prestigious company in the entire world. 

Setting your purse on the desk, you take your seat and grab the first folio from the stack, determined to finish each one before lunchtime. But before you can even begin, a nudge on your chair takes your attention away from your task and you blink in surprise when you Professor Stark looking down at you, a coffee cup in each hand. 

“What are you doing here, sweetheart?”

“Professor—I,” You blink, words stuttering, still bewildered at his sudden appearance. “I’m filing the expense reports for accounting.”

“Yes, I can see that. But what I meant was why are you doing that?”

“Oh, it’s what Ms. Potts assigned to me.” It’s the truth but with the way your professor’s lips slant, you feel you’ve made a mistake by mentioning it. “I don’t mind it—it’s nice to know the business from the ground up.” You add, an attempt to soften any blow his assistant would get. 

“But this is not what I wanted you here for.” His voice sounds serious and you scramble to get the coffee cup he hands you before lifting his watch towards his lips. “J, tell Pepper to find a replacement here on the accounting floor and to have her meet me in my office later at noon.” Professor Stark turns back at you, giving you a full smile, taking a sip from his cup, and gesturing for you to stand. “Come on, chop-chop.” 

You do as you are told and grab your purse, following him out of the office and through the halls toward the elevators. 

“Where are we going, Professor?” You can’t help but ask when he presses the up button, shoving a hand in his pocket as he sways on his heels while waiting. 

“Why sweetheart, I’m taking you to the best place in the entire building.” He responds with a grin and gestures for you to enter the lift first when the metal doors part.

Professor Stark wasn’t lying when he said that he was taking you to the best place in the entire building for his lab was indeed an engineer’s, or pretty much anyone else’s, dream. His AI, JARVIS, greeted you as soon as you stepped off the lift, startling you in the process. Though you can’t help but feel amazed at how lifelike he was despite the absence of a physical form, for his voice alone exuded emotions and understanding, making you smile when he and Professor Stark began to banter playfully. 

The hologram interface that scattered throughout the room was another feature that took your breath away. How the supposedly inanimate pixels suddenly come bursting to life with one flick of a hand from your professor, how he easily manipulates it, and from further observation, he’s got complete control of it with the help of his watch and a simple silver bangle on his other wrist. 

He toured you around, showing off his projects that despite being incomplete, look immaculate for someone of your status. The robots that come following the both of you as you walked around the lab made you elicit a soft giggle, loving how responsive and lifelike they were with their reactions to each action done by their creator. 

But what really has you standing in awe is the full metal suit laying atop a metal desk, with electrical wires attached to it from the ceiling and a holographic chart showcasing its readings on the side. You stand close, seemingly becoming hypnotized by its beauty. You run a finger against the metal arm, the cool surface chilling your skin yet weirdly warming you all the same. 

“I call it Iron Man.” Professor Stark says as he stands beside you, looking down at the coffee cup in your hand when he takes it and discards it in a nearby bin. “A fully functional armored suit, furnished with the latest weaponry that I made myself.” A grin forms on his lips when you look up at him. “It’s currently under testing but still top secret so—” He places a finger over his lips and your eyes grow wide in surprise at the information. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Professor!” You blanch and quickly turn away, taking a step back to have the suit out of your view. “I promise not to tell anyone of—”

“Relax, sweetheart.” He chuckles and walks over to you, his hands resting on your upper arms, giving them a light squeeze. “This is exactly why I brought you here, why I wanted you to be here.” He says with a smile.

“Y—You want me to test your suit?” You’re not claustrophobic but the thought of being inside such a tight space makes your heart beat faster. 

“Heavens no.” He laughs and squeezes your arms again before sliding his hands down the length of it and taking your hands in his, Professor Stark walking backward and leading you back to the suit. “I wanted to try and turn the suit completely into vibranium. I’ve tested this baby out so many times and don’t get me wrong, it’s very durable but after taking a couple of hits, it needs to go back into the shop. But with vibranium, this would be the most indestructible piece of engineering on the planet.”

“You want me to make you a full vibranium suit?” You ask.

“I want you to make it with me.” Professor Stark corrects, releasing your hand and giving the arm of the metal suit a pat. “Even more, to embed the element into nanotech and have it respond to a single neurotransmitter.”

You gape at him in disbelief. You’ve only known such a feat to be a theory and that each person that has attempted to create such a thing has done everything and still failed. Yet your professor is asking you to make one with him, something you’ve only ever read about in articles and have never even tested on your own. Hell, you’ve never even seen vibranium with your own eyes.

You look into his eyes, brown orbs full of sincerity then glance down at the suit. So much doubt begins to run around your head, the fear of failure creeping up your spine all the same. Deep down, you want to do it, you want to try but the lingering thought that you would fail at this project, fail your mentor, won’t leave you alone and you’d rather do the paperwork down at the accounting floor than mess up a top-secret asset of your professor, who is also now your boss. 

“I don’t know, professor.” You sigh and pull your hands from his grasp. “The scale of work has only been theorized and the tests that have been done have all failed. I wouldn’t want to waste any resources you’d give me.” Your lips curl into a frown as you look up at him. “I can assist you if you wish but to be the one to create it? I don’t think I can. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“But I believe you can and you can never disappoint me, sweetheart.” He smiles at you, your skin shivering when he runs his fingers up your arms, hands gripping down on your shoulders. Your eyes grow wide when he takes a step closer, your bodies only inches apart. “I’ll be here to guide you and if we fail, we try again. And again and again, until we perfect it. And once we do, you’ll have your name written in the history books—well, with my name along with it, of course.” He chuckles and you can’t help but smile at his playfulness. 

“So? What do you say?” He grins, his fingers tapping along your shoulders as he keeps his eyes on you.

Your university had once coined Professor Stark as one of the smartest people in this generation. And if your professor has such faith in your capabilities, maybe you are capable of accomplishing such an extraordinary feat. He’s there to guide you, either way, he said so himself, and if you do fail, at least you can tell yourself that you tried. 

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes to clear your thoughts. When you open them once again, you see the shine in Professor Stark’s eyes, the expectation in them. 

You nod. “Okay. I’ll try.” 

“That’s my girl.” He grins widely, your face going hot when he leans over and places a kiss on your forehead. 

The act takes you by surprise, making you step back and have his hands slide from your shoulders. You look up at him, eyes wide, stupefied, yet your professor seems unbothered by his intrusion into your personal space. 

“Sir, I’d just like to remind you of your meeting with Ms. Potts at noon and it’s already 11:30.” JARVIS intervenes and you release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding when Professor Stark steps away.

“Thanks, J.” He says to the air, keeping his eyes on you. “JARVIS will keep you company while I’m in the meeting but in the meantime, make yourself comfortable, and when I come back, we can start playing. Sounds good?”

You nod instead, the words not forming in your head as your thoughts still linger on the unexpected kiss. 

“Great.” He gives your nose a light tap, his nose scrunching when he smiles before turning to leave the lab. 

You remain standing, still in shock at what happened but try your best to push such thoughts away. He just got excited. You tell yourself. It is a big project. Another attempt at convincing yourself and you move to look down at the suit once again before claiming a seat on one of the stools propped beside the table.

You hear JARVIS call your name, looking up at the ceiling to acknowledge him. “Would you like me to show you where the vibranium is?” He asks. 

That somewhat makes you smile and you nod at no one. “Yes please, Mr. Jarvis.” And you stand from your seat, following the instructions of the AI, and walk towards the door that slides open, staring in awe as cylinders of the element stand before you. 

The work finally begins. Weeks have come and gone, and all that you’ve ever come to know is Professor Stark’s lab, working and experimenting with various ways to produce the outcome that your mentor expects from the element. You’ve only been researching so far, testing theory after theory on how the element would bind with the nanotech Professor Stark has at the ready. But each virtual attempt has proven to be a failure, having you go back to the drawing board to start from scratch once again. 

“Let’s take 5, sweetheart.” Professor Stark calls from the other side of your desk after another failed test. 

You nod and slide from your seat, asking JARVIS to continue running some tests, a disappointed sigh escaping your lips as you make your way to the open balcony. You’ve been on the computer for hours now, codes and holographic diagrams being your constant company. You know that you’re missing something, something important to have all the pieces fit—but you just can’t find it. 

The summer breeze of New York City is a welcome distraction as you step out into the open air. You look down from where you stand, seeing the streets busy and full of life yet the noises don’t reach you from where you are, the silence feeding into the tranquility that slowly embraces you. Even the view is breathtaking. The sun is already beginning its descent, orange and blue hues painting the sky, making the buildings underneath glow in beauty. 

You take a calming breath, one that you think you desperately need to help clear your mind and bring you back to focus on the task you’ll be facing. 

“Enjoying the view?” You startle when you hear Professor Stark beside you, his hand resting just at the low of your back as he leans his side against the railing. 

You quickly compose yourself and give him a light nod, looking back at the picturesque sight before you. “I never thought New York could be so beautiful.” 

“It’s what I love most about this place.” 

“Doesn’t it get lonely though?” You couldn’t help ask.

“I have JARVIS and the bots with me.” He chuckles and glances inside his lab before looking back at you. “And now I have you. If all things work out, I might just make you my assistant.”

“Your assistant?” You blink in surprise at his words. “But everything I’ve been doing has been—” The words you wish to say face away when you hear a loud beeping coming from the inside. You look at your professor, the expression on his face equally surprised and you both make your way back into the lab. 

The hologram by your computer has changed from cyan to yellow and you stand in awe as you watch the image playing before you, the vibranium slowly wrapping around the atoms and binding together before bleeding around the model of a human, successfully forming the suit. 

“I believe your theory has proven to be successful,” JARVIS says. 

“But—h-how?” You ask, rounding the desk to sit in front of your computer, looking closely at the formulas you’ve curated. 

“I kept running tests just as you asked and took the liberty of adding the power to the stabilizer. Your equations are correct but the equipment simply needed a little modification.”

You scan the tests and sit in utter disbelief as the words of JARVIS prove to be true. You did it. Although with a little help from your professor’s AI, you actually did it! You can’t help the smile that slowly forms on your lips as you dwell on the thought that it was all because of your research and the theory you created that has deemed the project to be a success. 

“What happened?” Professor Stark asks after, peeking at him from your computer. “What is J yapping about?”

“It worked.” You say with a steady voice as you stand from your seat. “My theory worked.” 

Professor Stark moves to stand beside you behind your desk, his hands pressed against the surface as he leans forward to look at the hologram. A smirk forms on his lips and he looks at you, a glint in his brown eyes before he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close to him, tapping the side of your hip. 

“I knew you could do it, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.” You bask in his praise, feeling your heart feel full at making your professor pleased with your work. 

“I wouldn’t have done it without you, professor.”

“Tony.” He says out of the blue and you look at him curiously. “When you’re in the lab, I’m not your professor and you are not my student. We’re colleagues.” He explains. “So please, call me Tony.”

“Okay—T-Tony.”

You feel a slight unease as his name rolls through your tongue. You’ve never called any professor by their first name before, thinking it to be disrespectful towards them to assume any sense of camaraderie especially if they didn’t welcome it. But Professor Stark did ask for it and you somewhat see the sense in his account, that you both are colleagues in such a setting. 

“Say it again,” 

You look up at him in confusion, your teeth worrying your bottom lip before whispering his name once more. 

“I can’t hear you, sweetheart.”

“Tony.” You raise your voice an octave and blink in surprise, blushing intensely when he plants a kiss on your cheek. 

“Good girl.” He chuckles and pulls away, leaving you stunned by your desk. “Calculate the time frame for the complete binding process.” He calls out loud to JARVIS. 

“I already ran the numbers, sir, and upon initial estimation, it will take approximately 2 days.”

“Then I guess we better get to work.” Professor Stark grins in your direction, giving him a light smile before turning away to press a hand against your cheek, your thoughts running wild as you dwell on the sudden kiss. 

You and Tony decide to take turns staying in the lab to watch over the stabilizer as the binding process runs its course. It took a while for it to start, with both of you modifying the equipment needed to be used to turn your theory into a reality. Even with the labor proving to be tough, it was but a small feat worthy to endure as you watch each progress bar glow in success. 

You watch the moon shine brightly in the night sky through the transparent wall of the elevator, making your way toward the lab. You try to hype yourself up and prepare for the grueling 7 hours of doing nothing ahead. Though after your first watch, you decided to bring along your computer this time and catch up on some reading before you go back to university the next month. 

JARVIS' voice makes you smile when he greets you upon your arrival, the double doors of the lab opening in an instant for you to enter. Setting your bag on the couch, you hum in confusion when you don’t see Tony inside. 

“JARVIS?” You call the AI, walking towards the screen to check any changes in the progress. “Where is Professor Stark?”

“He was called for an emergency meeting. But rest assured I would send him any updates of any changes to the process.” 

“No need for that. You can just tell him that I’m already here.” You smile up at the ceiling and make your way back to the couch, looking down at the bottles of energy drinks gathered on the coffee table in front of it.

“Mr. Stark says to help yourself with the drinks. It could help keep you up during the night.” JARVIS adds. 

You give the AI your thanks and pull your computer from your bag, getting comfortable on the couch as you boot it up and diving head-on to the first reading topic you pull out for your senior year. 

The hours slug by and the words on your screen begin blending with each other. You check the time and groan upon seeing it’s only 2AM, giving you 4 more hours to spend in the lab. Even with the project being an exciting and once-in-a-lifetime experience, you can’t help but find the wait to be boring. Yes, it’s part of the process but you think it would be more efficient to have JARVIS oversee the project himself and inform either you or Professor Stark of any problems that may arise. 

You blink away the sleepiness from your eyes and slip the computer off your lap, reaching over for a bottle of energy drink on the table. You twist the cap open and take a heavy gulp, wanting the sugar to kick in immediately to keep you wide awake before your shift ends. 

You stand from the couch, clutching the bottle in your hand, and decide to take a walk around the lab, hoping it would help to keep the lingering exhaustion at bay. The stabilizer seems to be in check, each progress bar ticking off as complete before another begins. 

You do another lap around the lab, looking at the assortment of gadgets and equipment your professor has laying all over the place. The suit remains dormant on the steel table, lifeless and still yet looking all too vibrant in its metallic glory. You run a finger against its steel surface, amazed at its structure when a yawn forms at your lips, having you take another swig of the sugary beverage. 

But your eyes begin to droop, your head feeling all too light that you make your way back to the couch, the plush cushions looking enticing as you drop yourself on it and lay your head against the armrest. Professor Stark wouldn’t mind if I take a quick nap, right? You ask yourself but before you could even debate for it to be a bad idea, your eyes close on their own accord, your mind going blank and the darkness completely taking over you as you fall into slumber. 

You dream of flight. Your body light as you soar through the clouds, swimming over the skyscrapers of the city. A cool breeze brushes against your cheek and you smile at the pleasurable sensation that ripples through your body. Your arms are spread wide, a bird basking in the aerial domain. You look behind when you feel a tingle down at your legs and you see a streak of red and yellow breaking the peacefulness of the sky. 

Then all of a sudden, something pulls at the pit of your stomach and you’re falling fast toward the ground. A sense of panic washes over you as you flail your arms, trying to grasp for anything to save you but nothing comes to your aid. You try to scream, hoping anyone would hear your cries but no sound comes from your mouth. The earth comes closer by the second and you close your eyes as you await your death. 

You wake in a jolt, your chest heaving as you pant heavily, trying to regulate your breathing and grab a semblance of reality from the dream-turned-nightmare. The ceiling looks different and the couch you fell asleep on feels all too wide. You’re cold, a chill kissing your skin that slowly shakes you awake, and it's then that you finally realize that you’re naked. 

“Wha—” You try to speak but a moan escapes your lips instead when you feel something smooth and wet lap against your soaking cunt. 

“You taste like heaven, sweetheart.” You hear the voice of your professor echo through the room, fear crawling up your skin when you look down between your thighs and see his brown orbs staring at you, his lips glistening with your arousal. “Just as I’ve imagined.” He smirks and crawls up from where he’s kneeling, his face hovering over yours. 

“Professor—” You cry and try to push him away, but such attempts are a defeat when you look up and see your wrists bound with silver restraints, the fibers glowing blue and purple with each tug you make.

“Sweetheart, I told you to call me Tony.” He whispers, grabbing your chin with his hand and pressing his lips against yours. 

He slips his tongue through your lips and kisses you hard, his mouth devouring yours whole as he dominates you through the kiss. You try to move away, to stop him from his assault but you’re rendered helpless as his hold on your chin tightens, almost to the verge of pain making you stop altogether and allow him to do his lecherous act. 

You gasp for air when he pulls away, moving your face away when his lips trail down to your jaw then to your neck. Tears begin to spring from your eyes as you continue to pull on your restraints. Confusion clouds your mind as you question how it has come to this, that your professor has pulled you into a nightmare you never saw coming. 

“I’ve waited for so long and now you’re finally mine.” He mumbles against your skin, looking up at his blurry image when his face lingers above you once again. 

“I—I don’t understand.” You whimper, wriggling against the bed when he pushes his clothed pelvis flush against yours, rolling his hips, the fabric of his pants rubbing against your clit. “Why a-are you doing t-this, professor?” You say in between grunts then yelping in pain when you feel a zap of electricity sting your wrists.  

“I told you to call me Tony.” He growls and pushes himself up, your eyes widening when he pulls off his shirt, witnessing the contours of his muscles lining his bare torso. He then makes work of his pants, the soft sound of his zipper seeming all too loud as dread completely takes you over. 

He pulls off his pants and kneels back down on the bed, hands running up and down your bare thighs, your arms aching and going taut from the metallic restraints when he grabs you by the waist and pulls you against him. You cry when he rubs the length of his cock against your folds, rolling the tip against your swollen clit which makes you whine and cry even more in turn. 

“You ask why I’m doing this?” He echoes your question as he lines himself against your cunt, closing your eyes when he slowly inches the tip of his cock inside you. “Because I can.” He snarls and impales you in one swift move, a pang of pain surrounding your pelvis from his sudden intrusion. 

You grit your teeth when he bottoms out, feeling yourself grow full from his size. You didn’t think he’d be big but the pain that radiates through your pelvis as your pussy walls clench around him tell you otherwise. He groans, his head tilted back as he stays still, allowing you to adjust to his girth but you have difficulty in doing so with your body remaining tense. 

You try to push him away, flailing your legs to push him off but you’re no match for his strength. His hands push your thighs apart, pinning them to the bed, whining when he slides out of you and slowly thrusts himself back in.

He starts at an easy pace, watching himself slip in and out of you. But his impatience eventually grows, picking up the rhythm of his hips and you shut your eyes tight when he begins to fuck you fast and hard, all the same, your body jostling against the mattress, slamming himself against you at a brutal pace. 

You close your eyes. You try to think this all to be a dream, some horrible night terror that you’ll be waking up from any time soon, but such attempts are futile when his hands begin to linger, feeling them clamp on your shoulders from behind and his hot breath fanning over your cheek. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long, sweetheart.” He says in between grunts, his face pressing against the side of yours, knees tucked underneath your thighs, shifting the angle of his cock and letting out an incoherent moan as you feel him slide deeper within. “Watching you in my class for three fucking years and now you’re here.” 

You try to drown out his words, wishing them to be lies. He’s your professor, a mentor you’ve looked up to for so long. You did the work. You paid attention. You’re not the best but you’re also not the worse. And still, you don’t understand what you’ve done to garner his attention, that he'd pull you into this nightmare disguised as a dream when all you’ve ever been was a diligent student. 

“Tony—please,” You try to beg for him to stop but the words drown in your tongue, turning into a reluctant moan when he hits that sweet spot hidden within. 

Your body then ripples in desire, the unwanted pleasure filling your senses as your feel your body tighten. It shouldn’t feel this good, you should detest it but with each thrust he makes, with each rub of his pelvis against your clit, the only place you see going is up, soaring high as your arousal gradually reaches its peak. 

Your walls tighten around him and he growls like some feral animal, his lips sloppily kissing your cheek while he whispers your name in staccatos. 

“That’s it, baby—” He grunts, one of his hands releasing your shoulder and reaching down to fondle your swollen bud. “Say my name.”

You clamp your lips shut, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of his desire. But your wrists sting once more, making you cry out in pain, panting heavily as your heartbeat spikes both from the electricity pinching your skin and the man taking you as he pleases. 

“Say it!” He repeats, punching the air from your lungs as he slams himself hard against you. 

“Tony,” You whisper, his name sickening rolling against your tongue. 

“Louder!” He commands. 

And you give in, chanting his name, again and again, your voice and the sound of your skins slapping with each other bouncing off the walls of the room, filling your ears, filling your senses. 

“Yes—” He growls, muttering nonsense against your temple as his fingers and cock work you in tandem. 

The tension in your stomach builds and builds, the dam ready to break with each flick of his fingers on your clit and each pulse your pussy makes. The pressure he adds on the bud only pulls you higher into ecstasy and all at once you find your release, your pussy fluttering around his cock as you come tumbling down from the sky. 

You feel him throb inside you, his words growing erratic with each thrust he makes. He then comes all together and you mewl when his seeds fill you up, coating your slicked walls. You lay almost lifeless on the bed, chest heaving, moans leaving your lips as he begins to give you shallow thrusts, riding out his orgasm and pumping every last drop into your cunt. 

Your name tumbles out of his lips once more and you feel him go still, keeping his cock inside as he too pants heavily against your side. 

“Tell me you’re mine, baby.” He whispers against your cheek, his hand leaving your clit only to run it up your abdomen and cup your tit, giving it a light squeeze when you don’t respond to his command. “Tell me.” He repeats with strength.

You let out a heavy breath, the tears spilling from your eyes once again as you try to form the words on your lips if only to please him, to keep the anger he keeps hidden within at bay. 

“I—” You swallow thickly. “I’m yours.”

You stand at the side of the stage with your other classmates, waiting for your name to be called. Today was supposed to be the best day of your life, one you’ve been waiting for since you entered university. But you can’t find it in you to be happy on your graduation for all the glee has been sucked out of you since that day your professor showed his true colors. 

He retired in the middle of the school year. An organization called SHIELD asked for his assistance after he presented himself as Iron Man. You would have been proud of the suit if things didn’t go the way they did, if your professor remained your mentor and didn't turn into your captor. But every time you see the name on the news, or even the image of the suit, all you feel is fear. Fear towards the man you once trusted and the power that he has at the palm of his hand. 

Your thoughts are broken when Maya taps your shoulder from behind, looking at the stage to see Michelle finishing her bow and leaving at the other side. Your name is then called and you put on a fake smile as you meet the dean, shaking his hand and taking the scroll of parchment from his grasp before standing center stage and giving a deep bow. 

You were deemed Valedictorian of your class. A recognition that was given to you upon the university’s knowledge of your helping hand on the Iron Man suit. A recognition you don’t deserve after Tony’s blatant words. 

“You’re not here because you’re smart. Your brain isn’t that special, sweetheart. You’re only here because I wanted you to be here. I just got lucky that your thesis matched with what I was working on and it was the perfect excuse to have you in my tower.”

After the ceremony, you meet with your parents. Both of them hug you tightly as they tell you how proud they are of you. You smile at their words if only to hide your true feelings about the occasion. Nevertheless, you still bask in the freedom that is bestowed upon you with Tony being away on a mission with a band of people they call The Avengers. 

“We made reservations at 9th Brewery.” Your mom says with a smile, her arm wrapping around yours as the three of you make your way to the parking. 

“9th? Isn’t it expensive there?” You ask and they simply chuckle at your disbelief. 

“Our Valedictorian only deserves the best.” Your dad comments, a small smile forming on your lips when he places a kiss on your temple. 

You congratulate some of your classmates as you pass them by. Receiving their greeting all the same while some try to stop you and ask for details about working with the most famous man in the world. You try to escape them all the same for you have nothing to tell them, wishing to erase that part of your life, but you stop dead in your tracks when you see Tony just up ahead, looking pristine in a three-piece suit, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You feel a sense of worry wrap around you when he walks towards you and your parents. 

“Congratulations, sweetheart.” He greets you, walking past your parents and pressing a kiss to your lips. You take the flowers when he holds them out to you, whispering your thanks before looking at your parents when they stare at you and Tony, question evident in their eyes. 

“You’re Tony Stark.” Your dad breaks the silence. “You’re Iron Man.” And Tony grins at him proudly, wrapping an arm around your waist as he holds you close to him. “Why did you kiss my daughter?”

“You haven’t told them yet, sweetheart?” Tony chuckles and holds out his hand to your father. “It’s nice to finally meet you, sir.” He says, a wide smile on his lips as your dad shakes his hand. “As well as you, ma’am.” He greets your mom next, taking her hand and placing a light kiss on her knuckles. 

“Uhhh—mom, dad, this is Tony and uhhh—” Your hands get clammy as you try to find the words to say. What do you tell them? That he was previously your professor? What would they even think when they find out such information after seeing his public display of affection?

“I think what your daughter is trying to say is that she and I are together.” 

You frown upon seeing the expression on your parents’ faces, your dad seemingly excited and your mom, in shock. 

“But aren’t you her professor?” Your mom asks. “Sweetie, you never mentioned you were seeing someone.” She turns to you, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth as you feel the anxiety creep up your skin

“I know it’s somewhat of a surprise but I assure you everything is legal,” Tony says coolly, feeling no shame as he places a kiss on your cheek. “We are both consenting adults and I was no longer a member of the faculty when we engaged in our relationship. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

Your stomach rolls in disgust at how easily he lies to your parents’ faces. And what’s worse is how they seem to believe every word he’s saying. The shock on your mother’s face seems to dissipate and your father is all too oblivious, all smiles as the fame of the man at your side cloud his judgment. 

You squeak when Tony’s hand pinches your waist when you don’t answer immediately, feeling a small wave of electricity rippling through your skin from the necklace he’s given you; a smaller replica of the arc reactor he’s embedded on his chest. 

You nod and force a smile, leaning closer against Tony’s frame and resting your head against his shoulder. “Yes, honey.”

[persephonesfill]

re dark!tony for "civil war au where steve gets imprisoned in the raft and he and tony have conjugal visits" 🤤

tony promises he's working on getting steve out of the raft, but he thinks about how nice this is because he always knows where to find steve now

manipulating steve is so easy now because of how much steve relies on him to know what's happening out in the world and how steve sees him as an ally and his only hope

shoving him up against the wall of his cell and saying in his ear let's see you try to leave now, who's going to help you now?

handcuffs

the first time tony visits, steve's on edge and who can blame him, really, after all that's happened. tony doesn't rub it in, doesn't talk down to steve. he looks contrite, even, zeroing in on the way steve's handcuffs dig into his wrist, the skin perpetually red and aching. the six by eight cell can barely withstand steve's breadth, let alone his and tony's combined.

tony looks at the dark circles under steve's big blue eyes and the shadows lurking inside them and thinks, "i could do better." sure, steve's a prisoner but he's still steve and he deserves the best tony has to offer.

and maybe steve comes to look forward to tony's visits, rare as they are in the beginning. he's steve's only contact with the outside world, the other avengers in a separate facility altogether. tony's always had his back and this time isn't any different.

with every visit, tony makes magic happen. steve gets a bigger cell with a real bed that can actually bare his weight. proper meals and new handcuffs that don't chafe.

and when tony fucks him, pinned down against his new mattress, the chain of the handcuffs clenched tight in his fist, steve does not bleed.

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

No Time This Time Masterlist

Summary: You prize order and practicality but your past, and newest client, throw your life into chaos. (Tony Stark)

Status: In Progress

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

Would you ever write hardcore bad guy Villain!Tony with zero redemption but also make it Irondad? lol

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. I have *done* that!! It was like a while back. 2019? I'd not been in the fandom for very long. But my husband wanted a dark!irondad and spiderson AU. I think he didn't believe I would write it... I don't *love* it. Mostly I don't like the POV... But it was a very interesting fic to write.

Finding Spider-man 

Spider-man seems to have lost his mind and is roaming New York causing chaos. Clint Barton is sent to track him down and get a handle on him. With the help of Tony Stark, a search ensues.

[plaidpyjamas]

fuck it, Avengers Dead Dove Do Not Eat fic idea/outline

This is mainly an AU for my Avengers OC Desmond - he grew up in a lab and has a regenerative mutation because of it. In his main story/universe, Tony and Pepper unofficially adopt him and his life is able to finally turn around. The set up is the same here, except that Tony Stark is a Monster with Too Much Power I can try and write it as an "x reader" fic if people want, but portions of it do hinge on Desmond and his own origin story, plus I'd need a beta reader to go through and swap pronouns over. Anyway here's some quick thoughts on the fic, laying down a little bit of groundwork as far as Desmond's situation goes. I can't guarantee I'll actually write it though hhhhh TW: NON-CON (the focus is Desmond's sexual assault at the hands of Tony & Bruce), transphobia, and probably a whole load of other stuff if I do write it

DARKFIC – Tony x Desmond x Bruce Non-con, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Desmond is taken in by Tony around the same time [somewhere around Avengers2012?]

Because of all the tech and money Tony has provided SHIELD he’s gained too much freedom and power – no one is really able to stop him from doing what he wants, because he could rip away nearly all of SHIELD’s resources at this point

What Tony wants, in “adopting” Desmond, is a plaything (he also brings Bruce into it- he's in this weird limbo where he still joins Tony in assaulting Desmond, but he apologizes nearly the entire time, which makes Desmond feel worse)

 Fury feels partly responsible for what Tony (and by extension Bruce) is doing to Desmond – he’s unable to do anything and the guilt eats at him - Fury's constant apologizing and trying to “make it up to him” just makes Desmond feel worse (are you noticing a trend)

Pepper is also trapped – first in her job and now in her marriage w/ Tony – she and Desmond, while living together and going through the same things, aren’t able to do anything to help each other, aside from sympathetic glances now and then (Tony doesn’t allow them together unsupervised maybe?)

Pepper tries to comfort Desmond when she can - by making him food or other small things. She genuinely cares about Desmond, but is really doing these small things for him so she doesn't have to think about her own suffering

Tony won't let Desmond get any of the gender affirming surgeries he wants - claims it's simply not possible with his healing abilities and won't let him talk about it past that - Tony really just wants more control over him (potential forced pregnancy?)

Tony does not allow Desmond to see Loki at all, so sadly that relationship never has a chance

Luckily though he does still meet Bucky - they keep their friendship a secret and Bucky really wants to do something about Desmond's situation but he can't without risking Desmond losing his one single solitary genuinely safe place (Bucky's room) so he's stuck just trying to comfort Desmond and be there to put him back together whenever he needs

Steve either does not notice all of this or he is in denial, so Desmond can't go to him (there has been at least one incident where Desmond felt safe enough to vent a bit to Steve - Tony knew everything by dinner that night, rip)

Steve's unwillingness or inability to see how awful Tony is towards Desmond and Pepper causes a rift between him and Bucky

Potential happy/bittersweet ending - Bucky somehow manages to help Desmond escape and they flee to.....idk somewhere. Maybe they're just on the run from then on. Maybe they go to Wakanda? Maybe Shuri and T'challa take them in and hide them?

I really want to try and find a way to work Loki into this, since he's such an important character in Desmond's canon universe, but idk how I'd go about doing that - unless!!!!! Thor finally catches wind of what's happening and offers to take Desmond to Asgard (Bucky too cause he's not leaving this poor guy all by himself). I guess that could still happen, but it could be like a failed escape attempt? And after that, Loki gets involved in trying to help Desmond or something? I'm hesitant to give Desmond more people who want to help - I feel like that makes it less dark? And if I write this thing I'm going whole-hog like it's gonna make me sick to write it I bet lmao someone help me

idk I haven't really thought about a coherent plot line, just this absolute nightmare scenario lmao

anyway if this sounds like something you'd wanna read please tell me!!! I have so many ideas for this but I don't wanna write and post it if nobody wants it, yknow?

[thran-duils]

Shallow Waters (P.14)

Title: Shallow Waters (Part Fourteen)

Summary: Reader moves to a remote seaside town in the PNW and is called upon by the church to serve in the area. Little does she know the biker gang rules everything in the area, using the church as their bread and butter for business. Everyone is too afraid to do anything to stop them and she catches the eye of not only the president but other members. Can she escape before she gets too woven into their intricate web? Fic is 18+!

Pairing: Dark!Tony Stark x Fem!Reader, Dark!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader, Dark!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Words: 1,105

Warnings (more may be added): Non-con, drugging, religious exploitation, branding, humiliation/degradation, mention of caning, aquaphilia, begging kink, anal training, barebacking, pregnancy

Author’s Note: My laptop broke soooooo I’m posting this from my phone. Idk how it looks on desktop so I’m sorry if the spacing is super weird and I don’t have a mood board and dunno if the tags work 😭

Part Thirteen || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“Where are Whitney and Taline?” you asked quietly.

“At home,” Tony answered curtly. “Keep back away from the smoke.” He was grilling food on the back porch.

You had not seen Whitney since she gave birth to her and Thor’s child almost a couple of weeks ago. The guys were over for Poker Night and Tony had said that the two of them plus the children would be coming as well.

“Oh,” was all you said. But when you realized it was clear he was not going to offer anything more, you prodded, “Are they not coming at all then?”

“Taline is coming soon.”

“Whitney?”

“No.”

“But why?”

Bucky sounded behind you, startling you, “Cause Whitney is being cuckoo yet again.” He caught Tony’s glare and asked, “What? It’s true!”

Tony said piqued, “She’ll be fine.”

“Eventually,” Bucky snorted. “I am just glad it’s not my ass having to deal with her moods this time.”

Bucky reached around Tony to grab a bun but Tony stopped him forcibly. “Over there. Now.”

Reluctantly, Bucky followed his lead. Tony exchanged some quick words with him, his expression stern. He caught you looking and gestured for you sharply to go before looking away again.

“Aren’t you not supposed to be standing so close to the smoke?” Sam asked as he walked up. You had instinctively taken some steps towards Tony and Bucky, wanting to hear what they were saying. Since you had become pregnant, no one smoked cigarettes near you and you were scolded to stay away from the grill.

You stepped back and gave him room to move in to flip the burgers.

Tony and Bucky came back and Tony thanked Sam for watching the food. He shot you a look as he took the spatula.

“Y/N, I told you to back up.”

Sighing annoyed that you were being bossed around and clearly excluded from what was going on with Whitney, you turned away to find your seat again - one that was comfortable for you to sit in this late in your pregnancy. Steve caught your eye and patted the one next to him out on the lawn with a smirk. You only narrowed your eyes in return and moved to yours again which was thankfully furthest away from him and directly in Tony’s line of sight.

Taline showed up with Amelia and Quinn some time later — with Peter escorting them in your car. Peter approached Tony before anyone, speaking in hushed tones, which distracted you from fully greeting Taline — the kids ran off immediately, Quinn following Amelia as she ran towards Steve.

“Hey, you okay?” Taline asked gently.

“Yeah, yeah,” you told her, tearing yourself away from staring in Tony’s direction. “How are you? How is Whitney?”

“I am good. Glad to get outside. Amelia and Quinn were driving me nuts all morning. Now Steve can watch her for a bit before their game and I can relax.”

How she trusted Steve to do that was beyond you. She was scared of him, so why would she trust their daughter and another’s child around him?

But she had by stepped one of your questions and you believed she did it on purpose.

“Well, grab some food and put your feet up for a few! And how’s Whitney?”

“She’s feeling under the weather,” Taline answered quickly. “So, Thor stayed home with her.”

Before you could prod further, Peter was at your sides and plopped into one of the free chairs.

“I brought potato salad!” he announced to you. “Dad said you’ve been craving it something fierce.”

You patted his cheek, “Thank you.”

You let the subject of Whitney go.

<><><>

“Everything seems to be in order,” Doctor Irwin said cheerfully, closing your case file. “Are you sure though that there is nothing out of the ordinary as of late?” You nodded. “Well then, only a couple more weeks until your due date! Tony has me as well as Selena on speed dial I am sure. Selena is going to take great care of you during the birth.”

“I believe you,” you told him flatly, tapping your fingers on your abdomen.

“You’re sure nothing is different?”

“Yes. I am just… nervous.”

“That is natural. It’s a big life event. Just as long as those nervous feelings don’t become overwhelming for you.”

What about this isn’t overwhelming? you thought to yourself bitterly.

“I’ll be honest if they do.”

<><><>

The rain pattered quietly on the large umbrella above the table on the back porch. September has arrived and brought rain that August had neglected. The ground sorely needed it.

Everything was sore - your back, your knees, your feet. Your due date had been two days before and you were praying the baby would come soon and relieve you.

The fresh dawn air brought comfort to you and a certain calm.

The sliding glass door opened and Tony stood there in his pajama bottoms, hair disheveled. He demanded, “Y/N, it’s freezing out here and you’re not supposed to be out here anyway. Come inside!”

“I have a blanket,” you protested, lifting it slightly off your stomach to show him.

“Now, Y/N,” he said with just as much force.

Huffing, you tore the blanket away from your lap and stood from the table with as much grace as you could.

“Watch the attitude.”

“Well, I don’t have any control over my body and therefore my emotions and I just wanted to sit out in the cool, fresh air! And maybe see a deer!” You snapped as you walked past him back into the cabin.

Tony grabbed your elbow making you come to a stop and he came round to face you.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you have me here all the time for the next few weeks and you can go outside to your hearts content. With me present. It’ll just be me. I don’t want anyone else taking care of you. Or the baby. Now, come sit down and let me make you some toast and bacon. Are you hungry?”

You waddled towards the kitchen table and admitted, “A little.”

You were almost completely sat when you felt a pang deep inside and your breath hitched. You had not had cramps for almost 9 months and they were certainly not welcome.

Except… they could not be period cramps. But you did not want to jump to conclusions.

When another one hit ten minutes later, you had to say something.

“Tony?” you said, trying to keep the waver out of your voice.

“Hmm?” He asked flipping the bacon.

“I think I’m having contractions.”

———

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21​​​​ @undecidedsworld​​​​ @holl2712​​​​ @agustdowney​​​​  @biiskuitx​​​​ @buttercupfangirl​​​​​ @namjoonwatcheshentai​​​​​ @kaylamcd2000​​​​​ @damntonystarkandhissmile​​​​​ @aditimukul​​​​​

Fic tags: @cavillsbestgal​​​​​​​​​​, @writerofmanyfandoms​​​​​​​​​​, @littleone2223​​​​​​​​ @winter-soldier-101​​​​​​​​ ​

[sebastianstansqueen]

Cheer Up Love 4

A/N: I hope you like it so far, Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.

Wordcount: 956

Warnings:  Angst, mentions of Suicide, bitchy friends, I think that is all actually

Chapter Name: Get. A. Hold. Of. Yourself.

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Taglist open// Spotify Playlist

Tags: @cherryblossomskyposts-blog - @babylooneytoonz - @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond - @leyannrae - @avengerlex - @pineprincess - @cjand10 - @ria132love

 Later that night Y/n started a bath, with warm water she got in and rested just relaxing she laid there falling asleep. Y/n dreamed of herself drowning once again water feeling in her lungs, as she lay there helpless, and then she heard it again. “Darling, I’m with you all the time, can't you see I long to be with you all the time?” Y/n gasped sitting up in the bathtub, the water was now cold. 

“Y/n? Are you alright?” Bucky asked, walking in. 

Y/n nodded. “Y-yeah.” If Bucky was back that must have meant that she had been in there all day now. 

“Hey, I got you something.” He walked to the shared bedroom, then came back with a white and black dress in hand. The bottom looked like it was made out of quilt fabric while the top was satin. 

“What’s that for?” Y/n asked.

“It’s for some fancy dinner that every worker of the WV project is going to, but that’s not the only thing I wanted to talk about tonight.” He told her her brows furrowed. “Lets have a baby.” 

Y/n’s cool and relaxed face turned into one of concern. “What?” 

Bucky chuckled. “Not right now but soon, think about it.” He reasoned. “I love you and I think I want a little you.” Y/n sat there frozen and Bucky got up and walked into the bedroom to get ready, Y/n finished washing up and scrubbing her hair, then she got out and styled her hair in a simple but elegant ponytail, then she slipped on the dress, along with simple black heels. 

Y/n and Bucky walked into the large building that the party was in, everyone was there like Bucky had told you all 100 couples, all 200 people, Natasha ran up to Y/n and hugged her, Y/n was scouting out the room looking around her, and Tony’s eyes connected. 

Once everyone sat down, Pepper stood up to talk to the crowd of people. “Hello and Welcome everyone, thank you all for being here tonight, I and Tony got a surprise for everyone.” Then out came a dancer, Pepper when, and sat down next to her husband once again, the men and some of the women cheered for the sultry woman.

Y/n sat there between Natasha and Bucky, who both were cheering, then flashes of Val on the grass covered in blood wiped through her mind, images multiplied into ones of her and Lilibeth, she thought back to when Val tried calling her and she ignored it, tears had already flooded her eyes, as she looked around in distrust, thinking back to when Tony watched as Bucky fucked her.

Everyone cheered when the woman finished dancing giving her final applause, Bucky sat down Y/n grabbed him by the arm. “I want to go home, Bucky.” 

Tony got up on stage. “How about that! Wow s-she was very amazing.” He smiled and laughed. “But for the real reason we are here tonight please welcome James Barnes to the stage.” Bucky stood up to walk up Y/n started to cry harder as the images continued. 

“Bucky Please.” She cried. “Take me home please, I don't want to be here.” 

He just made his way up to the stage. “James Barnes I’m so honored to greet you into our scenario advisory board.” Everyone cheered for her husband except she stared vacantly, she stood up and ran towards the bathroom. 

Y/n sobbed as she walked into the bathroom, knowing something was officially wrong, and her husband wouldn’t listen to her, she stared into a mirror. She was coming long hair through her fingers and whispering something to the person in the memory, then the door opened. Natasha came in and kneeled in front of her friend. “What's wrong Y/n?”  

“Natasha, we need to go, we need to get out of here right now.” Y/n cried. “Something is wrong.” 

Natasha shook her head. “What happened?” The red-haired woman asked gently. 

“Val was right.” Y/n said shakily. “She was asking questions they didn’t want her asking, so they silenced her. She slit her throat oppen with a knife, I saw it, there lying about everything. I went out there and I saw it.”

Natasha’s face turned from soft to serious in a snap. “You went out exactly where Y/n?”

“Head quarters, and when I touched the building I saw something and I keep seeing this over and over and over Nat.” Y/n explained. “And Tony, I hear him in my head, h-he’s in there he can listen to what I think.” 

Natasha took steps back. “Y/n have you lost your mind? None of that is real, none of that is possible, so stop making up things, you went to headquarters, that is the only rule they ask us to respect, Y/n, you know how dangerous it is.” Natasha snapped. “You stole from Dr. Banner? Y/n this is a big night for your husband and you're making it all about you!” She yelled. “Grow the fuck up your not some little girl who can make up stories, your a woman. Get. A. Hold. Of. Yourself.” Natasha walked out leaving Y/n to dwell alone. 

The next day went by normally except Bucky had the day granted off, so that he could celebrate with Y/n, but she felt almost numb, her closest friend wouldn’t believe her, nor would her husband, and all he could do was go on and on about his promotion that was all she heard about that day, and the two of them invited friends over for dinner that upcoming night. 

[my-helping-hand]

Eye For A Eye

One day, Tony received news that his closest friend and ally, y/n, had been killed in battle. The news hit him hard, and he turned to alcohol to numb the pain. He spiraled out of control, and his behavior became increasingly erratic.

As time passed, Tony became obsessed with the idea of bringing y/n back to life. He poured all of his resources into researching and developing technology that could bring the dead back to life.

But his obsession took a dark turn when he began experimenting on live subjects. He kidnapped people off the streets and subjected them to gruesome experiments, all in the name of his quest to bring y/n back.

As his experiments became more extreme, Tony's mind began to unravel. He became increasingly isolated, and his once brilliant mind became consumed by madness.

One day, the police finally caught up to Tony and raided his lab. They found a horrific scene, with mutilated bodies and evidence of Tony's twisted experiments.

Tony was arrested and sentenced to life in prison. But even behind bars, his madness continued to fester. He spent his days in a haze, muttering to himself about his failed attempts to bring y/n back to life.

As the years passed, Tony became a mere shell of his former self. He died alone in his prison cell, consumed by his dark obsession and haunted by the ghosts of his past.

I’ve been so busy, I had to rely on repost but I’m here and heathy!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Finer Things 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, age gap, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your mom surprises you with a visit but has a lot more in store than you could ever imagine.

Characters: Tony Stark

Note: Another sexy silverfox.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Thor loves thunder. Take care. 💖

“It will be so good to see you, honey,” you mom’s buoyant voice rings in your ear drum and you move the cell away from your ear. You make a face and catch the eyes of passerby, cringing at yourself as you veer away from the coed and continue towards your residence. 

“You too, mom,” you reply as you keep to the edge of the walk, sure to keep out of the way of students and faculty alike. 

“I have a surprise too!” She rings out. 

“Mm, you do?” You frown. The last time she had a surprise, it wasn’t really for you. Her trip to the Caribbean had you alone for your sixteenth but that was like five years ago. 

Your eyes skim the rustic colours of the curling leaves as wind whips around the collar of your coat. You plug your other hear so you can hear her voice. 

“Oh yes! It’s all really exciting. Just make sure you wear something fancy. I looked up a few local spots and this one looks very upscale,” she trills. 

That’s your mom. She spends more than she should, or has. If she had access to your trust, you wouldn’t have tuition. It’s just another part of your life that makes you feel helpless. 

“Alright, I’m sure I have something...” 

“What about all those clothes I gave you when I cleaned out my closet?” She preens. 

“Mom, I couldn’t fit them in my suitcase.” You don’t mention that you didn’t fit into them either. Your short and rounder than her. 

“Do you need money? I could send you my credit card number... one of them.” 

“It’s fine. I’ll find something,” you assure her and dodge out of the way of a group of frats. You feel so invisible. It’s like no matter what you do, no one sees you, even standing right in front of them. “I should go. It’s windy.” 

“Okay, I guess you can go,” she whines. “But I’ll see you tonight. Oh, I’ll send you the address too. Should I send an uber?” 

“Mom, please, my tuition includes a bus pass--” 

“The bus? Oh, at night?” 

“Mom,” you grit again. “Please. I’ll get there. See ya then.” 

“Alright, alright. I love you. Buh-bye.”  

You hang up and tuck your phone away, keeping your hands in your pockets as the tails of your coat flap with another chilly gust. You slope your shoulders against the autumnal temperate and hide your cheeks against your scarf. You love this time of year for the apple cider and pumpkin everything but the weather isn’t always so pleasant. 

As you get to your building, you look up at the windows. There are signs decrying the latest political frenzy and flags with varying shades of rainbow, and some stickers stuck on the panes. Your own window is barren. Just like you, your living quarters are plain. 

You let yourself in through the front door with a flash of your fob and drag your feet up the stairs. Gabourey is in the kitchen on speaker phone. You often fall asleep listening to her conversations, though you try hard not to. Racquel would be working down at the bookstore, and most times you wonder where Virgie is, she’s in her room napping. 

Your entry goes unnoticed. You hide in your dorm and put your bag on the chair by the desk. You untie your boots and carry them back to the mat. Too late, you already soaked the small patch of carpet between your bed and the desk. 

You toss your coat on your bed and go to the wooden armoire next to the sink in the corner. It isn’t much space but it’s yours. You open the doors and stare down the garments hanging inside. You favour plaid, tweed, and muted colours. The plum turtleneck would go nice with your circle skirt but it feels so stuffy. Your mom said fancy, not uptight. 

Hm. A classic black dress. Everyone has one. Even you. It’s simple. A wrap with a bow at the hip. It emphasizes your curves but doesn’t make you look bigger. You can put a necklace on with it and fight your hair for some semblance of presentability. 

It doesn’t matter much anyway, it’s just your mom. You don’t really care what other people think. She’s the one so hung up on appearances. You’ll just enjoy the free meal, if her card isn’t declined. 

💎

Your mom texts as you shove your wallet in your purse. You put your glasses on over your fresh coat of mascara and read her message. ‘Uber on it’s way for you.’ 

You huff and key in your message, ‘mom, I told you not to worry.’ 

She sees it but doesn’t answer. She never listens to anyone. Ever. It’s why you haven’t seen your own grandparents since your graduation. What a lovely day that was. 

You shrug and grab your coat. Oh well. No use in arguing now. With how quick the app is, the driver’s probably right outside. Besides, you weren’t exactly looking forward to waiting for the bus in the bitter cold. 

As you come downstairs, you get another text. In the chat, you find a screenshot of your mom’s phone, but that’s not her phone number on the confirmation screen. Or yours. Hm. 

You match the license play before you approach the car. You get in and greet the driver. He doesn’t answer you. Wow, you’re in his back seat and you still can’t get a hello. Or maybe the music’s too loud. 

You clutch your bag in your lap and watch out the window. The tension rises to an awkward strangle and when at last you reach the restaurant, you thank him. He turns down the music before you can get the door open. 

“Thanks for the tip, lady,” he says brightly. “Awesome!” 

You smile and bid him ‘you’re welcome’, rather than correcting him. Even if it’s undeserved, you’ll take it. Your mom must already have ordered some wine. Her statement must be close to its limit. 

You get out and look up at the curvy cursive of the restaurant sign. It’s fancy for sure. You cross the pavement and enter warily. You might just convince her to go somewhere else. Somewhere affordable. 

You stand around in the lobby and stare at the hostess as her eyes cling to the tablet on her podium. She taps around on the screen and ignores you. Is she? Or does she just not know you’re there? You clear your throat and step up. 

“Um, hi, I’m meeting someone here. I think they’ve arrived but, er, yeah,” you grip your phone tight, “Joyce.” 

“Joyce,” she squints and checks her screen. You give your last name but she still can’t find it. 

“One second,” you back up as a couple enters and you pull up the chat. 

You frantically text your mom; ‘I’m here but they don’t have your name.’ 

The checkmark goes blue but she doesn’t answer. The bubble doesn’t even pop up to show she’s typing. Your stomach swirls and you look around. The couple is shown into the dining room by a server as the hostess looks at you. You can feel her judgement. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” a man appears in a suit, “I think my guest is here. Young thing--” 

The man pauses and you look up. Your heart picks up in recognition. It’s him. Tony Stark. The Tony Stark. Billionaire, engineer, generous donour to the university. He smirks at you. 

“There she is,” he heads for you and you shake your head. 

“Oh no, not me--” 

He says your name and you choke on your tongue. You touch your collar and shake your head. He chuckles. 

“Sorry, did I scare ya?” He beams at you. “Your mom’s holding the table.” 

“My mom--” you stammer. 

“Come on.” He beckons you with his hand, the flash of his expensive  

“Mr. Stark, did you need anything for the table?” The hostess asks. 

“I’m good, sweetheart,” he winks and keeps his arm extended to you. 

“Alright, well if you do, ask for Chelsea.” 

He laughs again and waves you close. You walk to him in shock. 

“Actually, Chelsea, her coat,” he says. 

He surprises you as he unbuttons your jacket himself. You just stand there. He pushes it back on your shoulders and you squeak. You turn to let him free your arms and he hands the wool over to the hostess. 

“There we go,” he purrs. 

You step away and cross your arms defensively. He bends his elbow and looks at you expectantly, “come on.” 

You hesitate but step forward. He grabs your wrist before you can react and hooks your arm through his. You still can’t believe it’s him. Or that he’s there with your mom. This is her surprise? How the hell does she wander into these things? 

You let him lead you into the dining room. Despite the lingering nip of the fall in your cheek, sweat forms on the back of your neck and speckles your scalp. You look around and find at least a dozen pairs of eyes watching you in turn. 

Stark leads you to a booth where your mom wiggles on the bench. She shimmies out from behind it and throws her arms up. Your escort releases you, brushing between your hand and your skirt, and your mom wraps you up in a hug. She rocks you with a squeal. 

“Honey! I missed you.” 

“Mom,” you groan. 

“Joyce, please, give the girl a moment,” Stark chuckles, “come on, let’s settle in. I’m getting a bit peckish.” 

You eagerly take his lead. You nod as your mom lets you go and you keep your eyes on the table. You slide in next to your mom as she sits. 

“Wine?” Stark offers as he lifts the bottle already on the table. 

“Erm, I don’t--” 

“She’d love some,” your mom answers, “don’t let me have all of that or I might regret it in the morning.” 

You force a smile at her joke. The undertone gives you an ick but you ignore it. Stark pours the glass. 

“We haven’t formally been introduced,” he says as he plunks the bottle down, “Tony Stark.” 

“Mr. Stark,” you take his hand as he offers it and shake it, “nice to meet you.” 

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he slithers the cliche and squeezes your hand before letting go. 

You retract and cradle your fingers in your lap. You’re burning with surprise and confusion still. You glance at your mom. 

“Your mom says you came straight from school, smartie pants,” he grins. “I’m honoured you came all this way.” 

“Um, not that far.” 

“You go to Keating,” he prompts. 

“Yes, er, you spoke there--” 

“I did,” he agrees quickly. “Back in the fall. You were there?” 

“Um, ha, yeah,” you twist your fist around your finger. “I-- It was busy, you probably don’t remember but me and my roommate came to the meet and greet. She got your signature.” 

“Oh, she did? But you didn’t?” 

“Erm, no, I didn’t have VIP,” you show your teeth sheepishly, “sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves off your apology. “You get a whole night with me.” 

Your mother giggles and puts her hand on his arm, “so, you like your surprise?” 

“Uh, surprise?” You echo thinly. “Sure, uh... I... feel like I’m crashing.” 

“Not at all.” Stark insists. 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark, er--” 

“Please, it’s Tony,” he says. “My father’s Mr. Stark and he’s a jackass at that.” 

You laugh, more nervous than amused. Your mom rubs his arm and leans into him, “you’re so funny, Ton.” 

“So I’ve been told,” he agrees but his eyes don’t leave you. 

You shift and peer around the restaurant. You already feel out of place here but with him, you’re even more uncertain. A clink brings your attention back to the table. 

“Come on, let’s loosen up,” he taps his glass against yours, “cheers.” 

“Cheers!” Your mother quickly scoops up her glass and knocks it against his. 

His smirk stays etched in his lips as he sips and you pick up your glass. You drink cautiously and squirm under his intense gaze. You wish he’d look away. Look at her! She’s the one you’re here for. 

[lillyrob]

Actual footage of me patently waiting for my favorite author to upload😫😫😫

[springdandelixn]

Warm Me Up

Dark!Boss!Tony Stark x Assistant!F!Reader

Summary: Your boss’ seemingly innocent offer of warmth is not one you expected.

Warnings: 18+ content, noncon/dubcon undertones, power play, fingers at play, tell me if I missed any, Tony is his own warning. The fic is DARK, please consume responsibly.

At long last, my first Tony Stark fic has finally been made! Been really wanting to write him for a while now and I finally found the passion to do so. It’s a short one but I hope it’s a good one.

As always, your comments and likes are deeply appreciated. Reblogs would be amazing for it would help share my work and let this piece flourish. I hope you all enjoy! I love you guys 3000! ❤️ 

You hit the steering wheel again as your car refuses to start. It’s your third attempt and each time you think it would, the engine stalls. 

You check the time on your dashboard and curse at nothing upon seeing that it’s almost midnight. You saw the warning on the weather app and even heard the other employees talking about leaving as soon as the shift was done. But you had to be kind, not wanting to disappoint your boss, and you had to accept the task Mr. Stark gave you thirty minutes before clock out.

You thought you would finish on time. Thought it was something menial that wouldn’t require you to request overtime. But each folder you opened contained the mission sheets of the Avengers, having to enter each and every detail to the dot into the database. 

You don’t even understand why they are still being printed. With Tony Stark’s cutting-edge technology, you’d have expected everything to be paperless. You avowed to ask Mr. Stark for a raise since taking care of Avengers’ matters is beyond your job description as his assistant.  

Nonetheless, you finished your task and logged out of your computer. Tucking the folders in your drawer and made your way to the elevator in hopes of making it on the road before the snow starts to fall. But alas, you failed, a thick blanket of ice already covering the pavement and now you’re stuck in the parking lot of the Avengers tower with no way home. 

You grab your phone from your bag and worry your lip as you try to book an Uber. It doesn’t surprise you that no one would take your request with the weather acting up. You sigh, your breath fogging in the confines of your car as you hit your head on the back of your seat. 

A yelp of surprise then leaves your lips when you hear a knock on your window. The image behind the fogged-up glass is blurry. You wipe away the moisture and blink when you see Mr. Stark in all his three-piece suit glory waving to you from outside, a smile on his lips, before pointing at the length of your car. 

“Car trouble?” He asks when you step outside, snow crunching underneath your shoes, hugging your coat around your frame tighter to shield you from the cold, a useless attempt as you already feel it creeping in your bones. 

“My engine won’t start.” Your voice shivers as you respond. 

You watch him walk toward the front of the vehicle, leaning down into the seat of your car to pull on the lever when he gestures for you to open it. He peeks inside and you round the car to peruse all the same. You stare at him when he clicks his tongue, his hand reaching inside to poke at the huge contraption. 

“It’s frozen.” He exclaims before looking at you, his hip leaning against the lip of the hood. “Might take a while for it to thaw out with this weather and I don’t think there are any open shops at this time.” He hums before closing the hood. “Do you have any means of going home? I’d ask Happy to take you but he’s out on an errand.”

You shake your head and quiver from where you stand. “I think the weather has scared the Uber drivers.” Your laugh comes out dry and it’s only because you find yourself screwed by the situation you’re in. “I can probably call my frie—”

“Nonsense.” Mr. Stark shakes his head and walks back to you. “You can stay here for the night and we’ll have your car checked in the morning.”

“Oh, Mr. Stark, there’s no need.” You protest. “Really, I don’t think my friend would mind picking me up.”

“Well, if you insist.” He hums, picking out his phone from his pocket before tapping on the screen. “You could at least wait inside than stay here and freeze to death, you’re already shivering, Sweetheart.” He says teasingly and you chuckle at his joke before nodding in agreement, looking at him when he closes your door and places a hand on the small of your back. 

-

You blink when the elevator passes the floor to his office, the floor where your desk is, and swallow thickly when you see it head over to the penthouse, Mr. Stark’s personal floor. 

You’ve only been here once when he was too beat up to get out of bed and you had some urgent papers that needed his signature. It wasn’t as pleasant as you thought as you caught him walking across the floor with only his boxers when the doors of the lift opened. 

You push the memory to the back of your mind and peek into the foyer when the metal barrier parts. You step out when you feel Mr. Stark’s hand press against your back and you carefully pad through the carpeted floor, standing by the two steps on instinct, and wait for him to fully welcome you in. 

You smile softly when FRIDAY greets you in her sweet, monotone voice, answering her back before folding your hands in front of you. 

“Please, make yourself at home.” Mr. Stark calls out as he makes his way to the bar. “You’re not my assistant at the moment, you’re my guest.” He gives you that usual Tony Stark charming smile and you return a soft one before making your way to the couch and taking a seat, crossing your legs as you smooth the skirt of your dress against your thighs. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Hot water, please. If you have it.” You tell him, your body visibly shakes as the heat of his private quarters and the chill in your bones begin to clash within.

You scan the place as you wait for Mr. Stark to join you. The view from the outside still looks immaculate with how it’s framed by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the muted light from the bulbs that hang above adding to its picturesque state. You notice that his usual desk is gone, one of his Iron Man suits taking its place, making you curious if it’s the one he uses on missions or simply a decoration. 

The bar, as always, is full of liquor. Almost anything you ask can be made with the various selection your boss has. You see Mr. Stark pouring some hot water into a mug and you give him a smile when he meets your eyes, looking back at the coffee table when he strides over to you. 

“Your water.” He says with a flourish and you take the mug with both hands. You whisper your thanks before lifting it closer to your face, basking in the heat that slowly bleeds into your skin.

“Still feeling cold?” He asks as he looks at you, sipping from a tumbler that’s half-filled with amber liquid before resting it against his knee. “Whiskey could help, you know.” He grins and you shake your head as you lift the mug of water. 

“The water is fine. Thank you, Mr. Stark.” 

“Please, call me Tony.” He chides with a chuckle. “I’ve told you that countless times and yet you still won’t humor me.”

“I just feel it’s inappropriate to call my boss by his first name.” You reason, taking another welcome sip of the hot liquid. 

“Alright. I’ll give you that.” He hums, animatedly tapping his cheek before tilting his head to the side, playfulness touching his lips. “When it’s work hours, Mr. Stark it is. But outside work, it’s Tony. Friends.” He hums, holding his hand out to you. “Deal?”

Even when he says it’s okay, you can’t help but feel weird about it. Yes, you know that your boss is friendly. Heck, you think he could win a Mr. Congeniality pageant with just a wink. But threading that fine line between boss and subordinate to friends just doesn’t sit well with you.

He’s kind. You’ll give him that and you think he’d be a really funny friend if circumstances were different, nevertheless, being friends with your boss just doesn’t bode well, especially with a man such as Tony Stark. He’s already working you to the bone with him being your superior and you dread that he would abuse the friendship he’s offering for you to stay later than usual in the office. 

But who are you to reject him? You’re just an assistant. A speck in his world and easily replaceable. You fear that if you deny him of simply being friends he’d put up a job ad with your position on it and you don’t even doubt that it would be flocked with applicants who dream of simply breathing the same air as the man. And job hunting isn’t listed on your to-do list as of late. 

Huffing away your anxiety, you smile and take his hand, giving it a light shake. “Deal. Friends.” You agree and you can’t help the shiver that runs through your body when the cold feeling of his hand seeps through your own. 

“You’re shaking.” He frowns as he looks down at your hand, placing his glass atop the low table in front of the couch before taking your mug from your other hand and sitting it beside his. “Come here.” Your eyes widen at his words and you try to move away from him but his grip on you tightens and he pulls you closer, your body pressing against his chest as he wraps an arm around your shoulder. “There. Feeling better, Sweetheart?”

You shiver once again but not from the cold this time, but from how close he is to you. The anxiety spins within your nerves once again when he holds your shoulder a little too tight, flinching when his other hand caresses your knee. 

“Mr. Stark—”

“Ah ah, what did we agree on?” He reprimands you lightly.

“Tony.” You correct yourself, your voice shaking as you speak.

“Very good, Sweetheart.” He grins and jostles you, feeling his hand reach up to peel your coat from your shoulder.

“Tony—what are you doing?” You say as you grab his hand and try to stop him, fear slowly creeping up your spine when you see a dangerous glint in his brown eyes. 

“I just want to keep you warm. That’s all.” He grunts and tugs harshly on your coat, the force making you release his hold on him, letting the garment slip from your body. 

As soon as you’re free from its confines, you get to your feet and make a beeline to the elevator. But you don’t make it as Tony quickly grabs your hand, pulling you back on the couch. The air in your lungs gets knocked out when you land roughly on his lap, your back hitting his chest—his arc reactor making you wince in pain. 

You try to wriggle free from his hold, your hands reaching over to the armrest to pull yourself away from him. But you stop fidgeting when his hand rounds your throat, feeling his fingers dig into the side of your neck, making you cough and choke as you grab onto his wrist, panic surging through your veins. 

“Mr. St—Tony!” You gasp, your legs halting from kicking when he slaps his hand hard against your thigh. “Please—let me go.” Tears pool in your eyes from not only the pain but from the fear that fills you. 

“You’re not being a good friend right now, Sweetheart.” He growls against your ear before pressing a kiss on your shoulder. 

His hand rests on your knee once more and you push your legs together when you feel him hiking up your skirt, fingertips grazing against your bare skin. You gasp when he pinches hard on the meat of your thigh, obeying his silent command for you to part them. 

“Why are you doing this?” You cry out as his fingers graze your inner thigh, gasping when he rubs a finger against your panties, a moan escaping your lips as his thumb presses hard against your clothed clit. 

He rolls his thumb slowly and you grab his wrist as you attempt once more to stop him. You don’t understand why he’s doing this, confused why he’s chosen to torture you with such perversion when you’ve done nothing to deserve it. When you’ve done everything to be a good employee. 

He’s an Avenger. He’s supposed to be kind. He’s supposed to be one of the good guys. They don’t do these kinds of things but rather prevent them. 

“I already told you, Sweetheart,” He hums against your ear, pulling you back to have your head press against his shoulder, his goatee prickling you as he trails kisses on your skin, the act making you quake once more in terror. 

“I just want to keep you warm.” His voice makes your stomach roil in disgust, his finger pushing your panties to the side and you close your eyes as your body goes rigid from his unwanted touch.

You clamp your lips down to prevent another moan from escaping you, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your body responding to his touch. But it’s once more a failed attempt as your lips part when he slides a digit through your pussy, your mind fighting yet your body succumbing to his depravity. 

[juiche]

I wanted to draw the winter soldier for years but never dared to, I thought I’d definitely mess it up. Late to the party as always, but I finally dared to do it 😊

This one is based on a photo that Sebastian Stan took by chance prior to the Civil War film, having no idea what’s about to come :> I thought it’s wonderfully angsty 😌💅

get your own print here ❤️

[fotibrit]

need more stories where peter is angry and tony tries to do the “punch me, it’ll make you feel better” thing but. Tony does not understand. He doesn’t. Peter says no, and tony tries to bait peter into punching him. Peter tells him to get in the suit. Tony says “it’s all the way in the workshop. i’m here. just punch me”

and peter punches a wall, or something nearby, and it fucking crumbles. to dust. Gone.

And peter, who is LIVID at this point. just looks at tony. “you sure i should punch you?”

And that’s the first time tony’s ever been scared of peter

[tldrthor]

The Princess (and the chaos she brings with her) - steve rogers x fem!reader (1/?)

Summary: when Thor asked the avengers to guard a dear friend of his, they didn't think twice before saying yes. What they didn't know was that said friend is the princess of one of the nine realms, and a lost love of one Captain Rogers.

Part 1 // I thought you were dead // word count: 3.5k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"(y/n), you have to eject, right now!" Steve screamed over the torrents of wind whistling through the ship. Schmidt was dead, gone. So was the tesseract. But it wasn't over yet. "I have to put her in the water!"

The girl behind him widened her eyes, battling against the elements to reach him. "There's no world in which I let you do that, Captain!"

"I'm not asking for permission!"

"Well then, I guess we go down together!" She painstakingly made her way to him, every step a feat of strength. Her previously neatly pinned curls no longer even resembled what they once were as her hair whipped around her face.

As Steve turned to face her, she somehow still looked angelic. He felt that right now, she was more heavenly than ever. He couldn't let her die with him.

"Buckle in." He commanded, as they began their quick descent. He looked at her, the first woman who had ever made him feel seen, the only person he had ever met who was as crazy as he was.

As the ice flew closer, he turned and placed a hand tenderly on her face. Tears welled in his eyes as his mind wandered to the future they could've had. God, they could have been amazing.

"I'm sorry, (y/n)." He whispered. She could only just hear it, even though they were right next to each other.

He pulled the yellow ejection lever on the seat she had just buckled herself into, watching as her eyes widened. "No! Steve, no!" She lifted her hands to stop him, to jam the lever, anything to stay with him. She wasn't quick enough.

Steve closed his eyes as her seat was ejected, hearing her scream his name. There was no world where he allowed her to go down with him, and he trusted that wherever she ended up, Stark and Peggy would find her. He hoped they would be able to find him, too.

He hadn't prayed in a long time, but as he went down, he bargained with God for her safety.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"It is my honour to introduce the new and improved Captain America and the Howling Commandos exhibit, in honour of the 100th birthday of Captain Steven Grant Rogers." The crowd clapped as the senator stepped off the podium, motioning for Steve to take the mic. Bucky and Sam laughed at how uncomfortable the Captain was as he stood thanking everyone for an exhibit he never wanted. All part of the job, he supposed.

After the handshakes, and the photo ops, and the autographs and the meet and greets, the boys finally got relative peace to wander around the new exhibition.

"I can't believe you used to wear these stupid suits." Sam laughed, standing in front of the main exhibit. Bucky sighed, budging Sam's shoulder. "Says the asshole who wears a bird suit to fight." He retorts.

Steve laughed at his friends antics, but walked away when he noticed an addition to the exhibit he hadn't seen before. He stared, wide eyed at the name in front of him.

(Y/N): THE MISSING HERO?

Steve found himself drinking in every inch of the gorgeous photo underneath the text, her bright smile and barely visible freckles. The lighting highlighted the different hues in her immaculately pinned hair. She looked just like an angel, as she always did in real life.

Steve looked down, forlorn eyes investigating very few artefacts in the glass exhibit. Her folded uniform, found in her room after the plane went down. The blush lipstick you wore every day. Finally, an object that Steve didn't recognise. A golden ring, encrusted in unidentified jewels and a family crest no one knew. He frowned.

He had known her only a short few months, but he regretted never asking about her family. And now, it would haunt him that he never did until his last breath.

"They never found her, huh?" Bucky placed his covered hand on Steve's shoulder, a sadness tinged in his voice. He had only met (y/n) briefly, but he knew even then that Steve's heart rested in the palm of that woman's hand.

He had asked about her, once, but the look on Steve's face when her name was mentioned told him everything he needed to know.

"No. Howard searched for years, found nothing. Turned out that she had lied on her intake forms for the SSR, too. We don't even know if (y/n) was really her name." He took a beat. "We have no idea if she survived or not."

Steve didn't have to make the subtext clear, Bucky knew he worried that he had killed her by ejecting her from that plane. Bucky also knew there was no sense in trying to tell him she would have died either way, that the ice would've killed her.

"You okay?" Bucky asked, after another few moments of silence.

Steve nodded, looking at the photo. "I'm glad she's remembered. I just wish I didn't have so many unanswered questions."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So," Tony started. "Thor is arriving with the guest of honour later today, who we have agreed to protect here for the meantime. We don't have a lot of background for this one. The dark elves are the ones we're protecting her against, but Thor said threat could come from many areas. Do we have any questions?"

The team looked nothing short of bored. Well, most of them. Cap always had the good grace to sit up and look interested. Scott was straight up asleep.

"Is she important? How long will she be staying with us?" Steve asked.

"No idea, and uh, no idea. Anything else?"

"Is she single?" Sam asked, earning a laugh from some of the others. Steve shook his head disapprovingly, but smiled at his friend's levity.

As Steve stood up to go back to training, FRIDAY sounded around the room. "Excuse me everyone, my satellites have detected a bifrost signal heading for the compound imminently."

"Speak of the devil!" Tony clapped his hands as everyone headed out to the bifrost landing site (something that had been instituted after Tony's lawn got scorched one too many times).

Bucky smacked Scott upside the head to wake him up with a jolt. "Oh, where are you guys going?" He called behind them, jogging to catch up. Steve waited behind from him, laughing at his groggy friend.

A bright light connected with the grass just beside the landing site. Tony's hands covered his eyes as he mouthed are you fucking kidding me. When the light cleared, Thor stood tall in his usual armour.

"My friends!" His voice boomed, "I present to you, my fellow avengers, the honourable princess of Alfheim, jewel of the Alfar and ambassador to Asgard." Thor's voice boomed through the halls of the compound. "This is my friend, (y/n)."

Beside Thor stood a girl. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with a heavenly stature. She looked like she could have been carved from marble by the hands of God himself.

A light Asgardian pink dress was covered by a golden chest-plate which fit her body like it had been moulded just for her. It was covered in intricate etchings of suns and stars, which caught the light and shone brilliantly. She wore golden jewellery, which was nothing like the avengers had ever seen. Golden ear cuffs covered her pointed ears, with her long hair pulled into an up-do, emphasising the golden, bejewelled tiara on her head.

"Princess?" Sam squeaked. Wanda smacked him, with a look that screamed don't embarrass us.

Tony tilted his head in confusion at the guest, who he could almost swear he recognised from somewhere. "Thor, you did not inform us that we were looking after the ruler of a planet. We would have been more prepared."

"I am not ruler yet, Mr. Stark." The girl cast her eyes up at Tony, as she smiled sweetly. Her voice was honey smooth, and anyone who heard it felt themselves being charmed by it. "I have heard much about you all from Thor."

"Should we bow?" Bruce whispered to Tony, who shrugged his shoulders. Thankfully, (y/n) took the lead and shook each of their hands.

She looked around at each of the gathered avengers. Thor made his introductions to the rest of the group. "Where are the others?" Thor enquired.

"Here!" Steve smiled at the site of his old friend, his view of the princess obscured by the large man. Bucky and Scott tagged behind him, also happily greeting Thor.

"Captain, it is very good to see you. Please, let me introduce you to the Princess (y/n)." Thor stepped aside to introduce them, but his eyebrows knitted together in confusion when neither of them moved, almost frozen in place.

"Uh... hi." Scott side-stepped the Captain and caught the eye of their guest. "My name's Scott Lang."

The girl tore her eyes away from the captain, unsure really on what to do. But her training kicked in, knowing that being rude was one of the worst sins a princess could commit. "Hello, Mr. Lang. I am (y/n)."

"Holy shit." Bucky breathed out.

The rest of the avengers watched the rather silent exchange with confusion. It was very unlike Steve to get so tongue-tied, and he would never be so rude as to not introduce himself.

"Captain Rogers..." The girl spoke first, confusing them further. "I believed you dead." Tears had welled in her eyes, intriguing the observing crowd even more.

"I thought you were dead." He breathed. "What... what is going on?"

Bucky interjected. "Um, hi. I'm Bucky, we met briefly in '45."

She smiled softly at him, but her eyes betrayed her confusion. "Sergeant Barnes, of course! Didn't you... also die?"

"Yeah, we've all got a lot of explaining to do." Bucky laughed as the absurdity of the situation caught up to him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thor's eyes darted between his friend and the captain. When Thor asked the avengers to guard her from the war on Alfheim, he knew some hijinks would ensue. This is not what he expected. He knew you had spent some time on Midgard before and when you returned you were emotionally distraught. He had simply figured the war you had fought with the Midgardians had taken it's toll.

He eyed both the Captain and you, suspiciously. You were his dear friend, but you had never talked to him about any mortal love.

"So, Princess. You've been here before." Tony enquired.

The Princess licked her lips nervously, glancing at Steve, who had barely moved a muscle, his eyebrows furrowed. "Yes, Mr. Stark. I spent some time here during the second world war. I left Midgard when Johann Schmidt was defeated, and haven't returned since."

"Tell us about your world, Princess. I've never heard of it before." Natasha, the red-head in the corner, asked the guest.

"You have heard of it before." The princess smiled, explaining. "I believe we are now known as a fantasy character here - you call us elves." She pointed to her pointed ears as each avenger clung to her words.

Thor smiled at his Midgardian friends' curiosity.

"The Alfar still live amongst you, they are simply unseen. I believe you may know Tolkien?" At the mention of the author's name, everyone's ears pricked. "He was one of my father's greatest friends and many of his book settings were inspired by Alfheim."

"What!" Scott exclaimed. "That's insane."

"Really, Ant Man?" Bucky responded, pointing out that they were all ridiculous, when you thought about it. The world was crazy now.

The princess chuckled, and rose from her seat at the conference table. "Thank you very much for your hospitality, Avengers. I would quite like to rest in my chambers, if you would be so gracious to allow me."

"Um, yeah... consider yourself allowed." Tony stumbled over his words. Very unusual for him, and it did not go unnoticed by the others. "Dinner is at seven."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark. Captain Rogers," She addressed the Captain, who looked up quickly. His face was pale, and he nervously twiddled his thumbs. "Would you be so kind as to show me my rooms?"

He popped up, almost comedically fast. "Yes. Yeah, sure. Um, this way." He walked out quickly, darting his eyes back to make sure the princess was following him.

She followed, gracefully. Her skirts fanned out behind her as she walked. The avengers in the room could scarcely take their eyes off her as she faded from sight.

As soon as the door closed behind them, the room devolved into chaos. People shouting theories and questions left, right and centre. Mostly, everyone was just bewildered. Bucky and Thor discussed how they had both known the couple separately, and whether each had talked about the other.

Natasha watched as Tony sat quietly on his tablet for a few seconds, searching for something she could only assume was relevant to the discussion at hand.

"Bucky, what's the deal there?" Clint asked.

He was interrupted by Tony. "Aha!" Stark called, silencing the room. "I knew I recognised her from somewhere."

He projected a photograph to the wall, and the avengers gasped.

The photograph consisted of Steve and Bucky front and centre. Bucky had his left arm wrapped lazily around Tony's dad, Howard. And Steve was looking directly at the girl next to him, holding her to him by the waist. It was the princess. The gaze he looked at her with... it was like nothing they had ever seen from him.

"They didn't just know each other, they were in love." Bucky replied to Clint's question, a hint of sadness underneath his words.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Y/n) followed Steve along the large corridors of the compound, her smaller legs working double time to match his long strides. They walked in silence, for the most part. It wasn't the comfortable kind.

"Captain." She spoke first, again. As she called for him, he stopped walking abruptly, turning slowly. He met her gaze and then cast his eye down.

"(y/n)... I mean, um, Princess." He responded.

"(y/n) is sufficient." She whispered, almost guiltily. "I can't believe you're alive..."

"I can't believe you're alive," He retorted. "I searched for you, when I woke up. They couldn't find any records of you other than your enlistment form, and they found you had lied. People think you're just a ghost story..."

He took a breath. "I can't believe you're here and... an alien princess?"

"I know it's hard to believe, I hope you understand why I couldn't tell you back then." She laughed. "When I found that you and Sergeant Barnes were dead, I couldn't face being here anymore... I returned to Alfheim."

As she thought back on it, a tear sprung to her eye. On seeing her reaction, Steve couldn't help himself but place a friendly hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles. She briefly froze at the contact, but quickly, she moved her own hand down his arm until she was holding onto his hand with both of hers.

So much went unsaid, but the contact confirmed what they had both most desperately wanted to know. Would it be the same?

"If I had known that you and Sergeant Barnes were alive, Captain..." She admitted. "I would have returned in an instant, I give you my word."

He smiled, rubbing a thumb over the back of her hand. A red blush hugged her cheeks as he did so.

It was typical of him that he couldn't concentrate on the moment, "Why are you here?" He asked. "What are we protecting you from?"

She sighed. "The Svartalfar, or the dark elves. You may know them - they attacked Thor in the Midgardian city of London some years ago now." He nodded in recognition.

"They are determined to conquer Alfheim, and have set their sights on my family. They have already managed to get close to killing me."

She pushed the collar of her dress down, showing a large, angry, red scar just above her collarbone. His hands flew up to trace the scar. She gulped at the close contact, her eyes meeting his.

His expression gave away his concern, knowing that Thor had suggested she was in a lot of danger. "Don't worry, Princess. You're safe here." He smiled, softly. "We'll protect you with everything we've got."

"Thank you, Captain."

"It's just Steve." He unhooked their hands, and gave her his arm. She linked her arm in his, and he resumed wandering down the halls to her rooms. "Do you have any bags?"

"No, I fled to Asgard with nothing when I needed healing. The Asgardians were kind enough to offer many gorgeous clothes for me to bring, but I figured they were a bit conspicuous."

Steve laughed, "Yeah, they might be."

They walked for a little while longer, before Steve entered a room to the side. It was rather basic compared to what she was used to, but it would more than suffice for the meantime.

"This is your room." He stood by the door as she entered. "I'm just down the hall if you need anything. I'll get Tony to send you some less conspicuous clothes. See you at dinner."

"Thank you, Steven." He laughed at her inability to be too informal with him. He nodded at her, and turned to walk down the hall to his room.

As he entered, the photograph of her from the Smithsonian caught his eye from the nightstand. He picked it up, tracing her features with his finger - unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. Who would've thought? Not only was his girl alive, she was also alien royalty. Sometimes, just sometimes, he adored his strange, strange world.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Sir," The agent walked into the dark room with purpose in her every step. "The Princess has been spotted."

The man in the chair looked up at the mention of his target. "Show me" he ordered. He watched as agent transferred the images on her tablet to the big screen, showing grainy, far away surveillance of the avengers compound.

As low quality as the image was, the woman arriving with Thor in the distinctive Alfar dress and armour was certainly the princess.

"Oh, my dear..." The man's deep voice dragged out. "You have walked right into our sights."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: let me know what you think! if you can't tell, this is basically the set up for a longer series... i'm really excited to explore this character and get deeper into the relationships!

i've never really written in the third person POV before, so let me know if it's something you like or not, and i can switch for the next part.

please like/reblog if you enjoy! let me know if you would like to be tagged in the next part <3