#imposter Tony Stark

[nthflower]

Duggan i am coming for you. Emma baby I am coming to rescue from this evil man.

[daydreamerdrew]

Iron Man (1968) #9

[milehighmechanic]

if i told you i was like. running out of money. im not. but if i was. would you. like. send more?

He's suspicious.

( Well, he could just tell her about the savings account that's already under her name, but----- )

"Yes, obviously."

[redroomreflections]

Gentle Hands Chapter 1

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha suspects Reader is in an abusive relationship and tries to convince her to leave

1/10

W/c: 7.7k

Warning: Domestic violence

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Yes, I have a lot of WIPS sue me!

The problem with wearing a mask is that eventually, you can’t take it off. Sure, you can stretch the truth. You can come up with some other lie or story that helps move things along. Wearing a mask is like lying to yourself. You pretend everything is okay. You tell yourself more lies to believe you’re doing a good thing. That you’re keeping others safe. If only they knew.

You nod along to the melody pouring from the custom-built speakers Tony Stark installed in the lounge. You laugh whenever someone makes a joke. You smile politely when something is directed towards you. You’re among superheroes every day that ironically don’t wear masks. Their lives are wide open for everyone to see. Their secrets are all out on the table. You’re amongst the earth’s mightiest heroes and you feel like an imposter. Their personalities are big. Their smiles are bright. Their kindness is everlasting. You don’t know if you should be feeling the way you do when they’ve extended their grace to you. They’ve opened their hearts and their home to you. They consider you one of them and yet you can’t seem to offer them the same.

Your life is messy. Complicated. Normal. It’s nothing worthy of the time they’ve given you. It’s a movie night with the Avengers and you’re tucked into Sam’s side and holding onto Bucky’s arm as you watch whatever movie is on the TV screen. Not that you have much of a choice. They’re two pretty big men compared to you and there was only one open seat. You’re not sure they like each other all too well. It’s not your place to ask. So you sit between them with a question at the tip of your tongue that you may never know. You don’t mind much. It feels nice to be included. You’re not an Avenger. You’re not even a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. You’re just a simple secretary with a 9 to 5 who managed to charm Steve Rogers. You’re not like them.

Strong. Brave. Fearless.

You’re just… normal. You can count on one hand the things you’ve done in life that could even be a smidge of what they do every day. They save the world and all you do is file paperwork and answer phones. How does that compare?

Your eyes scan the room. As you observe them you wonder how is it that you’ve managed to fool them all. Do they notice how uncomfortable you are? Do they notice that you apologize whenever you make a mistake? Do they notice your hands shaking whenever a friendly debate becomes a bit more heated than necessary? No. Why would they? You’re just another person to them. A normal person with normal problems. Nothing could be wrong.

You look at each of them one by one as they enjoy the movie. Tony is munching on popcorn, quoting the movie whenever he can, as Pepper looks less enthused about this particular picture. She’s seen it a dozen times since she’s met him. Clint, a.k.a. Hawkeye, he’s half interested, as he checks his phone every three minutes. He must be a popular man the way it vibrates so much. He rests his arms on Natasha’s legs thrown into his lap. She’s leaning into his side, nosily reading the messages as if they’re her own. Her eyes flick to the screen ever so often as she mumbles the lines to herself. It’s a favorite of hers too. Steve is next to her. He’s more interested than any of you. He’s never seen this one. Bucky hasn’t either as he attempts to stay awake through the entire thing. Sam has taken to throwing popcorn over your shoulder, letting it fall into Bucky’s hair that’s incredibly long. Wanda is settled in a chair with her legs thrown over the arm. She’s reading from her kindle with the display brightness turned down low. She’s not interested in the movie but she’s enjoying the company of the others.

Vision is seated just below her on the floor. He’s trying to analyze some of the jokes of the movie. He laughs at inappropriate times and he looks to you for answers but you just shrug. You don’t quite get the movie either. This entire scene is domestic. It feels like a family. You remembered longing for days like this when you were younger. You would watch episodes of FRIENDS wondering if that would ever be your reality.

It’s refreshing how safe you feel here. How you feel like nothing can hurt you. Life should be like this forever? It’s how you always felt during family movie nights as a little girl. You would lie on the living room floor with your older sister, you would share a blanket, and rest your head on your elbows to see the tv better. You would glance around you ever so often to make sure your parents were paying attention. This night in the Avenger’s tower is reminiscent of that. It feels like home.

Until the lights come on. It pulls everyone from the moment as J.A.R.V.I.S. announces the presence of a visitor. Suddenly everyone is on guard. Bucky sits up. He’s more alert than he’s been in the past few hours. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you realize who it is. Sam reaches to grab the remote from the coffee table to pause the TV. Wanda moves to sit upright. Natasha grabs at her pants leg. Was she hiding a gun in those sweatpants? Everyone is on guard but you’re the one that’s afraid.

He steps in with an air of arrogance. He walks like he owns the place. Like he’s not nervous to be trespassing the home of people who could kill him without batting an eye. He gives a convincing smile though you’re not sure anyone is buying it.

“Uh, may we help you?” Tony is the first to speak.

“I’m here for y/n.” He says simply. He folds his arms behind his back and stands shoulder-width apart. His stance is not menacing. It’s quite friendly actually. Everyone turns to you. Curiosity in their eyes. You’ve mentioned having a boyfriend but you never had any intention of introducing them to him.

“I’m right here,” You stand a bit faster than necessary. “I have to go.” You search the couch cushions for your phone and your purse. You reach as far as you can go but you end up finding nothing. All eyes are on the newcomer again. He gives you a soft smile that’s almost convincing. You can feel someone staring at your back though you can’t tell who. Your shirt rises and you straighten to pull it back down. Finally, Bucky lifts and grabs the offending items from his end. He hands them to you. You give him a quiet thanks before turning around.

“But you didn’t finish the movie?” Tony groans. “Hey, trespasser, come sit and watch the movie. Y/n’s not done.”

“I called you.” Keith ignores Tony’s demands. He looks straight ahead to you.

“My phone must have died,” You explain as you press the power button. Sure enough, it is dead.

“You know how dangerous that is.” His voice is friendly though you know better.

“Well she’s not alone,” Sam tilts his head. “How much danger could she be in?”

“Our daughter is home,” Keith looks to Sam. “With a babysitter. It’s important for y/n to be available,” he says. He tucks his hands into his pocket to wait patiently for you. By the tick of his jaw you know it’s not that simple.

“You have a daughter?” Steve chimes in with a question. None of them knew. Not many people know.

“I do, she’s one. Her name is Kaia.” You shake your head in dismissal. “I will explain later. This is my boyfriend Keith. He’s Kaia’s father.” You walk around the couches to stand beside Keith. He wraps his arm around your shoulders to land a kiss on your forehead. He lingers before pulling back.

“Goodnight,” He gives them a wave before leading you into the elevators. Neither of you leaves any room for question. As soon as you’re inside he releases you from his hold. His hand twitches but he doesn’t move to do anything else. He’s not stupid. He won’t do anything in such high security, high-tech building. For a second you’re questioning how he was even allowed up then you remember his charm. It’s how he landed you once upon a time. Keith doesn’t speak until you’re out on the sidewalk. Home is just a fifteen-minute train ride away. “You should know better.” He says before releasing his hold on you.

“Keith, I’m sorry, my phone did die.” You call after him as he walks a bit faster. He’s not waiting for you at all anymore.

“Do you know I had to call around and see where you were?” He turns so suddenly that you almost bump into him.

“Again, I’m sorry.” You feel the frustration rising within you. He’s always like this. It’s no surprise. He thinks he owns you. He likes to micromanage every single one of your moves. He has to know every minor detail about your schedule. Which seems to anger you further. You’re working. You’re always working. Which he so graciously allows you to. “I was here. I’m sure Kaia is fine.” You shrug. Keith looks at you with narrowed eyes. For a second you think he’s going to debate but he doesn’t. Instead, he continues walking towards the train. You let out a silent breath as you look back to the tower. You’d much rather be back inside with the team.

The train ride home is silent. He sits beside you with a possessive hand on your thigh. You allow yourself to settle into him. From the outside, you look like the perfect young couple. You wonder if anyone could see through his gentle touches. You wonder if they know the lingering kisses he leaves on your head are just a warning of what’s to come. He’s not going to let this go so easily.

When you get home, you step into the door and kick off your shoes. You place them neatly on the bamboo shoe rack right next to his loafers. He heads for the fridge in search of a beer. He’s probably had a tough day in the office. He’s the youngest executive at Microsoft and that comes with its struggles. You’re understanding of that. Almost too understanding. You don’t pay him any mind as you walk further into your apartment. Everything you were afraid of disappears when you spot Kaia in her playpen. Kaia pushes against the fabric of the pen to stand. She smiles up at you with that smile. The one that she always has whenever you come home. It’s beautiful and innocent. You don’t hesitate to swoop her in your arms.

You kiss the top of her head before looking over to the babysitter, Maureen. She’s packing up her knitting tools. She’s a nice lady that lives down the hall. She never minds keeping an eye on Kaia when you’re working. You rarely go out so asking her to keep her a little longer wasn’t much of an ask. She just wanted you to have fun.

“How was she today?” You ask.

“An angel.” Maureen smiles. “I’ll see you soon.” Maureen waves her goodbye before exiting the apartment. You stand in silence, bouncing Kaia in your arms, as she toys with the necklace you’re wearing. You glance around the living room. It’s not that messy in here. You figure you can clean once Kaia’s asleep.

“Are you ready for a bath, my girl?” You ask her. You kiss her head again before looking over to Keith. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, his legs are crossed, and he’s sipping from the bottle.

“Are you going to cook?” He asks suddenly.

“What? No, I ate already.” You tell him. “Maureen already fed Kaia. I left her dinner instructions this morning.”

“So, I get nothing?” He deduces. Was it so bad for him to cook for himself?

“Keith,” You sigh. Was this really what he was angry about? You stayed after work with friends one time. Was that so bad? To him it was.

“No, you’re right, I’ll just order out.” He shakes his head. Good. Crisis averted. You walk to the back of the apartment to dress into something more comfortable. You set Kaia on the bed with a toy so that you can strip. Keith approaches the doorway to watch you. He glances to Kaia and then to you. His gaze is strong and heated.

“Can you start a bath for her?” You ask him. He doesn’t respond. You internally roll your eyes. You don’t know what his deal is today but you’re not in the mood to find out. You unbutton your blouse to reveal your bra. It’s new. It’s a part of the new wardrobe you’ve needed for a long while. Your new salary gives you the luxury to buy things like this now. Stark Industries pays pretty well. You’re only a temp but you enjoy the job nonetheless.

“I haven’t seen that one before,” Keith comments. He tucks his hands into his pocket.

“I just bought it,” You reply. Next to go are your pants. You toss them onto the bed. You glance behind you to make sure Kaia is still playing.

“For who?” He asks. You stop your search for comfier clothes to look up at him. What is he getting at?

“For myself,” You frown.

“Are you fucking him?” He suddenly asks. There it is.

“Him who, Keith?” You sit on the bed. You’re in nothing but your underwear but it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before.

“Steve Rogers, Captain America.” He says it as if it’s obvious.

“Where would you get that ridiculous accusation from?” You shake your head. “Keith I’ve barely been there for a few months. He’s nice to me. I’m not sleeping with him.” You stand to look for a t-shirt again. You find one of your mom’s old college shirts that you’re pretty sure is your dad’s. You slip it over your head. You pick Kaia up and she squeals. You’re preoccupied now with the thought of bathing her. You take the few steps to head for the bathroom only Keith is still in the way.

“Does he want to fuck you?” Keith asks. You wish he would stop with the accusations. How could he accuse you of something like that? Especially when he’s the only person you’ve ever slept with. He’s your first. He knows that. He wears it proudly but suddenly he’s voicing insecurity that’s based on nothing.

“I don’t know,” You shrug. You gesture for him to move and he does. He follows you to the bathroom. He watches you without offering any help as you turn on the bathwater. You set Kaia down onto her feet as she holds onto the lip of the tub. She places her mouth on the edge to bite at it as you check the water temperature. “I wouldn’t notice.”

“The Black Widow is hotter in person,” He comments. Again you shrug.

It’s not like you disagree with him on that. Natasha is beautiful. She hasn’t said much to you since you’ve been hanging out with the rest of the team. She only even comes to movie nights because Clint drags her to them. You think she secretly enjoys the bonding.

“Look, the team is nice.” You strip Kaia of her clothes before placing her into the tub. The water is low and enough to bathe her quickly. She splashes excitedly as you toss a few toys in. You can feel the familiar ache in your back as you reach over the side to begin bathing her. “I just wanted to have a good time with them. I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

“It’s not,” He says.

“Keith, you seem upset that I even stayed at work,” You look behind you. He’s still dressed in his button-up and slacks. “A job you suggested I get remember.” It’s true. He suggested that you go out more and have friends. It was not without you begging for months. He never has his mind made up when it comes to your place in his life. When you first got together he was charming, kind, loving. He’s still all of those things when he chooses to be. It was only after you got pregnant with Kaia that things started to change. It was like a switch went off in his head. Suddenly his behavior was different. He was more possessive, angrier, more physical. It’s almost as if he hated you for even getting pregnant. This much after he begged you to keep the baby in the first place.

“Not upset just curious.” He shrugs. You can feel him coming closer. He kneels, fixing his pants legs so that it’s more comfortable for him to lean over the tub. He pushes his arm sleeves up to reach into the bathtub. He grabs a rubber duck to push it around in the water as it floats. Kaia gives him a toothy grin as she reaches for the duck. You strain your neck to look at him. “She needs a sibling.” You cringe. There it is again. The flipflopping. “Don’t you think ?”

Is that a trick question?

“I think that we should wait,” You say instead. “Until I finish school.” He stops playing with Kaia to give a deep sigh.

“You’re still on that?” He sits back on his legs. “I thought this job was enough.”

“It is,” You assure him. “I just would like to finish my degree. I only have two years left. Isn’t that what we wanted?”

“Yeah, before,” He shakes his head. “Now you don’t need to. I can take care of you.”

You don’t doubt that he could take care of you. You never doubted that. His family is already quite wealthy. They’re powerful. He understands the trade of business. He’s good with his money. He takes care of all of your needs but you want this for yourself. You promised yourself you would. He takes your silence for petulance and tries a different approach.

“Kaia needs you,” He says. “ She needs her mom. I mean with this job you barely have time for her anyways. If you add school to that she’s just going to be raised by a babysitter. I don’t want that.”

“Well you could do it,” You stop yourself from saying it. You’re not in the mood for an argument.

“Would you like a baby brother?” Keith directs his words to Kaia. She splashes at his attention. “See, even she says yes.” He laughs. He helps to clean her hair as you wash the rest of her body. The conversation seems to be over for now. He races for a clean towel as you hold a naked and wet Kaia against you. She’s slippery and still a bit energetic. Hopefully, with one song she will fall asleep. You walk over to the mirror to look into it as she leans her head onto your shoulder while bringing her hand up to her mouth to suck on. You inspect both of you in interest. She has your eyes. Her lashes are thick as her eyes flutter with heaviness. Maybe a song won't be needed. You rock her in your arms becoming entranced by your movements.

You enjoy motherhood. You do. Another baby sounds nice in theory. You grew up with siblings. Keith has two brothers himself. Was it unfair to have Kaia grow up alone? You’re not sure. Thinking about the time it would take to raise another one, the toll on your body, the time off of work. School seems a bit further away as you realize another pregnancy meant no time for it. Maybe that’s his plan.

Keith enters with a towel and he finally takes Kaia into his arms. She grunts in protest before settling into his arms. You follow him into her bedroom where he begins to dress her. He diapers her with ease as she watches him with sleepy eyes. You hand him the lotion bottle, then the baby powder, and finally the onesie pajamas for her to wear. You watch how he interacts with her. He’s a good dad. He is. He’s gentle with her. He plays with her. He loves her.

Why wasn’t that enough for you?

You leave him to put her to bed. You search for your phone. There are a few notifications that you weren’t expecting. It’s a groupchat of some sort you’ve been added to. You unlock your phone in excitement to see the unfamiliar numbers messaging you. The only number you do recognize is Steve’s as he’s sent you museum finds a while ago. You open the chain message to read each of them.

There’s a picture of Tony in a headlock attempting to break from Natasha’s grasp. You find it a bit funny and you heart the picture. You scroll up further in search of the other messages.

Hey, y/n, you missed out on the after-show. You laugh as the replies come rolling in. You type a response quickly after you ask for everyone’s names. Soon enough they reply with answers. Were you worthy to be included in their super-secret and private text chain?

You plug your phone into the charger as Keith enters the bedroom. He approaches you from behind to wrap his arms around your waist. You stiffen in his embrace before allowing yourself to relax. You know him. Your body knows him as it reacts to the kisses he places along your neck. He rubs your belly with his thumbs as you sway in place.

“I’m sorry,” He apologizes though he doesn’t elaborate. It could be for several things. “I’m stressed at work. I was upset when I came home to see you weren’t here. I should have known. Have your friends. You deserve it.”

“Thanks,” You say robotically.

“I like seeing you pregnant,” He says as his soothing rubs turn into firmer touches. His left-hand travels down so that he can trace your stomach under your shirt. You allow his touches. You welcome them. You can feel the slickness coating the inside of your thighs as he nips at the lobe of your ear. He toys with the waistband of your panties before moving to slide them down. “Let me take care of you.” He breathes hotly into your ear and you nod your consent.

************************

The next morning you’re back at work bright and early. You’re typing away at your computer when Darcy Lewis comes to the lobby. She has donuts in her hand which only means she’s here to bribe you. You try to hide your grin as she bounces over to your desk. She places the box smack dab in the middle of your desk as she sits on the edge.

“What’s this for?” You ask. You push back so that you can look down at the box.

“Tony’s having a party,” Ah. There it is. “I want you to come.”

“Darcy, I can’t.” You groan. It’s not like you want to. “Keith wants us to have dinner with his parents that night. They’ll be in town.”

“So, bring them,” Darcy says in a duh tone. At your skeptical look, she resorts to begging. “Tony won’t care. I’ll tell him I cleared them. Keith may be a bit stiff but he loves a good party. His parents won’t complain about partying with a billionaire. Then if they’re happy enough you can avoid questions about having another kid or why you aren’t getting married.”

“What are you getting out of this?” You ask Darcy. She’s kind of your best friend these days.

“A right-hand woman that can drink me under the table if she so pleases,” You raise your brow. Even though she’s right she wants something more. “Okay, I need you to set me up with Steve. I know you two are like besties now and he’s not biting my bait so I need an in.”

“Steve and I aren’t besties,” You grimace at the term.

“But you hang out with him,” Darcy tilts her head.

“I do,” You confirm.

“That makes him your best friend beside me,” Darcy traces her nails along with the donut box. “Unless you’re planning some elaborate thing to keep him for yourself.”

“No, I’m not,” You shake your head. “Besides it’s not him I’m looking at if I were interested in an Avenger…”

“Who are you looking at?” Another voice startles you both as you whip your head around to see Natasha Romanoff standing behind Darcy. Her arms are folded and she sports a look of amusement. How long had she been standing there? Darcy recovers quickly and joins in on Natasha’s curiosity. She steps around the desk so that you’re both facing the Widow. She raises a brow urging you to continue.

You fumble for an answer.

“Barnes?” Natasha guesses and you immediately shake your head.

“Nah,” You frown.

“Sam? He’s nice.” Darcy takes a guess. Again you shake your head.

“Those are two very masculine choices,” You explain. You can’t believe you’re even entertaining them with this. You’re in a committed relationship. It’s just gossip, right?

“So, Wanda?” Natasha throws out. At your blush, she can tell she’s gotten warmer but you won’t admit it. “She’s pretty and smart.”

“It’s not Wanda,” You clear your throat before hurriedly stuffing a donut into your mouth. It’s not even one you like. It has chocolate and sprinkles and overall too much sugar. Darcy’s eyes widen as she seems to catch up before Natasha does. Which is saying something. Darcy squeals before looking between the two of you. You move to pinch her thigh and she yelps.

Natasha eyes her curiously. Oh. She unfolds her arms and it’s her turn to blush.

“I’m flattered.”

“Yeah,” You nod. “It’s nothing you have to worry about.” You shake your head.

“It’s okay, plenty of people have had crushes.” Natasha shrugs. “Besides, I don’t think you could handle me.” She leans in close to say this. She looks directly into your eyes and finds delight in the way your breath hitches. Truth be told it sounds like a challenge. One that has you curious but you don’t say anything further.

Natasha pulls back at the sound of your phone ringing. Why is she here again?

You grab your phone before looking at her apologetically. Darcy takes a donut out of the box as she leans over your shoulder to look into your phone. It’s a photo message of Kaia at the park. She’s playing in the grass while smiling widely at the camera.

“Oh, the kid is so cute,” Darcy coos. “When am I going to be able to squeeze those cheeks again?” Natasha’s back straightens at the mention of the little girl. You realize she’s never gotten to see her. You turn your phone for her to see the picture. Her eyes light up though she makes no other move.

“Cute.” She says. Without another word, she leaves you two to head for the elevators.

“What even was that?” You ask as the doors close.

“Natasha being Natasha,” Darcy dismisses. “Though I sense some major attraction. If I were into chicks I’d be all up on that.”

“Yeah,” You shake your head. You weren’t reading too much into it. Natasha is a spy. She’s a master of manipulation. She’s flirty. You’ve seen her do the same thing to Sam or Bucky whenever she wants something out of them. It’s just how she operates. What could she want from you?

******************

The party is the next time you see Natasha. It’s a bit fancier than you thought. It’s more of a gala than a party. Everyone’s dressed so fancily. They’re dressed like money. It makes you a bit uncomfortable but you’re here to support Darcy and the rest of the team. They received Humanitarian awards earlier in the night after stopping another alien attack in some country. Now with the after-party being in the tower, you feel a bit better. This place you know.

You’re here with Keith, and his parents, Lorraine, and Paul. You’re showing them a good time. Everyone is mingling and drinking to their heart's content. Keith has his arm wrapped around you as you talk with Rhodey about one of his military stories. It’s the first time you’re hearing it but it’s an interesting one.

He’s in the middle of the story when Natasha sidles up to his side. She’s wearing a daring pink dress that has a plunging neckline, feathered hem, and a thigh-high slit. It’s pretty and you admired it when she first entered the party. It’s teetering on inappropriate but it looks so damn good on her. Rhodey greets her before continuing his story. She grins, having heard the story before, saying his punch line before he does. Rhodey looks at her with disapproving eyes before breaking into a laugh. She stole his thunder.

“Hello, Natasha Romanoff,” Natasha introduces herself. She shakes Lorraine and Paul’s hands. They sing their praises to her. They’re admittedly a bit star-struck. She’s amused by it as they question her on her fighting abilities. She answers the questions with ease.

“I am curious if you have any weapons on you now,” Paul questions with a glance down her body. “Where would you hide them?” You follow his gaze. You remember the day in the lounge where she grabbed at her pants leg. You have no doubt she has a knife taped to her thigh or something. Could she hide a gun there too? Natasha’s painted lips pull into a smile.

“A lady never tells,” She whispers to him.

“I do love your dress,” Lorraine comments. “It’s very beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Natasha smiles. “Though I think, y/n’s dress is stunning too.” Oh. All eyes are on you as she compliments you. What was that about?

Your eyes travel down your own body. It’s a bit simpler. It’s black. Form-fitting with its split. Your neckline is higher but you’re showing a bit of cleavage. You like the dress enough.

“I think on the right body, it can be,” Keith says offhandedly. Natasha’s smile disappears.

“The right body?” Natasha’s voice is dangerously low. You shake your head. It’s not worth arguing over.

“Oh, I see what you mean,” Lorraine joins in. “Y/n is still sporting a bit of baby weight so we don’t see the full potential.”

“I think the full potential has been shown,” Natasha raises a brow.

“Maybe she could work out with you?” Lorraine asks for you. You can’t quite believe it but you’re used to it. It’s not the worst thing she’s said to you.

“Is that what, y/n, wants to do?” Natasha looks to you for answers. You shrug. You’re not opposed to it but you didn’t think there was anything wrong with your body. “I think it’s beautiful. Her body. She did give birth just a year ago. I would think you’d offer a bit of grace to her considering.”

“Oh, of course,” Lorrain agrees not wanting to piss Natasha off. Though you figure it’s a bit too late. Before anyone can say anything else, Natasha walks away. You’re all left with the awkwardness of the moment. Darcy chooses this moment to approach you.

“Hi, I need, y/n, for a second.” Darcy excuses the both of you to pull you over to the bar. You wave in apology as Keith releases you. You look at Darcy questioningly. “Steve is over there. He’s alone. Go hype me up. Don’t do too much where he thinks I’m desperate but do it enough where he knows I want him.”

You narrow your eyes. Message received. You leave Darcy to go and talk to Steve.

“Hey, y/n,” He smiles.

“Where’s your phone?” You ask him. He looks confused but pulls it out anyways. “Darcy Lewis, my friend over there, Thor’s friend. She wants to climb you like a tree. Preferably tonight.” It’s the opposite of what Darcy asked you to do but the look on Steve’s face is so satisfying. “Call her.” You pass him his phone back before turning around to Darcy. You give her a thumbs up across the room. She smiles back at you. A win for her. She could thank you later.

It’s sometime later and the party has no signs of ending just yet. Everyone has paired up while Keith’s parents have gone home. You’re both huddled in the hallway, talking heatedly, as he accuses you once again of wanting to sleep with Steve. His breath is hot. He’s drunk. Your back is pressed against the wall as he stands over you. There’s no one on this side of the lounge and you’re sure he chose this hallway purposely.

“Why do you act like that?” He questions.

“Like what, Keith?” You sigh exasperatedly. You were growing tired of this. “I’ve done nothing. I entertained your family tonight. I endured them insulting me. They don’t like me you know that. Now you’re here again accusing me of wanting to sleep with Steve. I’m here with you.”

“So act like it,” He pokes his finger against your chest. “You’ve been ignoring me most of the night.”

“I haven’t,” You argue back. “I’ve been mingling. I told you we could stay home, Keith.”

“I was trying to do something good for you,” Keith grips your chin so that you can look at him. “Let’s go home.”

“I’m not ready,” You tell him. You would like to stay for just a little longer. You’re enjoying yourself despite his hangups.

“The team doesn’t like me,” Keith tells you. “What did you tell them?”

“What? I didn’t tell them anything.” You remove his hand from your face.

“You’re lying,” He grits through his teeth. He grips your forearm this time as he pushes you into the wall further. “You lie all the time. What did you tell them?”

“Keith,” You whimper. It hurts. His hands aren’t gentle or loving. Not right now. “Let me go.”

“Tell me,” He’s menacing as he dips his face closer to yours. “You know. Never mind. We’re going home. You can call and tell them you quit in the morning.”

“Fuck, do you know how crazy that sounds?” You say despite his grip on your arms. “You’re angry because you think I’m fucking someone I’m not. Do you hear yourself? I’m not sleeping with him. I’m here with you. Let me go, Keith.” His grip only tightens. Despite his inebriation, he’s well coordinated.

“She asked you to let her go,” A voice says from behind him. Keith’s grip loosens but he doesn’t let go of your arm. You peek around his frame to find Darcy and Natasha. Your cheeks flood with embarrassment at them finding you like this. Finding you so weak.

“We were just having a discussion,” Keith speaks first. He swipes s a hand over his face. Natasha’s eyes flicker to yours. “We’ll go home now.” You whimper again. You quickly try to hide it but she’s heard it.

“She’s staying with me tonight,” Natasha says. “We were having a sleepover.” She doesn’t address his hands on you. She can see the pleading in your eyes for her not to. You don’t want to fight right now.

Keith doesn’t say anything as he weighs the situation. There’s no way he would ever consider fighting with Natasha. She’s everything you’re not. Brave. Fearless. Strong.

“Fine,” Keith shakes his head.

“No, I can, go.” You speak up.

“Y/n?” Darcy questions.

“No, I’m fine,” You promise them. “Kaia is home and I want to tuck her in.”

“Are you sure?” Natasha’s gaze doesn’t waver. She doesn’t want to let you go home with him.

“I’m sure. I’ll be okay.” You assure them both though you’re not so sure yourself. You nod before following Keith out to the elevators. The two women watch you walk away. They don’t notice the tears in your eyes or the way you tremble as the doors close.

Keith decides on an Uber home. He’s silent the entire time. He relieves Maureen for the night while you go straight for Kaia’s room. You watch her as she sleeps. She’s safe in here. You’re safe in here. He won’t come in and you dread going out.

You’re not afraid of him. You’re not. Not now.

Finally, you muster up the courage to leave her room. You walk slowly to your bedroom where Keith is sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s crying. Why is he crying?

“I hate when you make me do that to you,” He admits. “Why can’t you just listen?” He asks.

“I’m sorry,” You apologize. What for? You don’t know.

“You’re not going to leave me are you?” He asks.

“I’m not going to leave you,” You assure him. You come to sit on the bed next to him. Everything in your body is screaming at you not to.

“You don’t have to go back there,” He begins. “If you quit I wouldn’t feel like this. The problems started when you started working there. It’s just… I’m afraid. That you’ll leave.” You knew this already. Though the problems started way before this. He turns to you suddenly. He can see the light bruises on your arms. “I’m sorry,” He slides off the bed to sit on his knees.

You don’t want to quit your job. You don’t want to quit the only thing that keeps you sane.

“You still love me?” He asks with those big brown eyes. The same ones you fell in love with all those years ago.

“I still love you,” You whisper back. You don’t know how much you believe those words anymore. He rests his hands on your knees before spreading your legs. He’s using sex as an apology again and you’re falling for it. When his nose nudges your clit through your panties you lean back to lose yourself in the sensations. When his calloused hands grip your thighs to bring you to the edge of the bed a gasp leaves your lips. When he finally removes your panties you allow yourself to think of something else. For the first time, you think of someone else.

Red tresses. You imagine her hands holding you still. You imagine the way her lips would feel as they kiss your inner thighs. You imagine that’s it’s Natasha here and not him. A single tear leaves your eyes as you climax.

Did you deserve what you’ve been getting?

**************************************

You quit the next morning. You don’t even show up to pack up your desk. You ignore Steve’s messages and Darcy’s texts. Sam’s Instagram DMs are left unopened. Your only friends in the city are being ignored. You don’t want to cause any more problems with Keith. You stay home with Kaia. She’s the highlight of most of your days as you walk with her around the neighborhood every day. Today it’s getting colder so you’re bundled up while you walk. It’s the only place he’ll allow you to go.

Kaia is playing with her stuffed bear in her stroller as you walk aimlessly down the street. She’s warm and the extra blanket covering her legs is more than enough. You don’t notice she’s dropped her toy until she’s crying for it. She whines, whirling in her stroller to reach for the toy when you notice.

“Mama,” Kaia cries. You stop to see it’s gone. Damn it.

You turn to go back for it when a familiar figure stands in front of you. She’s holding the bear pushing it towards you wordlessly.

“Natasha,” You say. You take the bear, passing it back to Kaia, before looking back to the woman before you. Her green eyes watch the toddler curiously.

“You’re okay?” Natasha asks you. She trails her eyes away from the little girl over to you.

“I’m fine,” You assure her. She eyes you up and down as if she can see through your layers of clothing. You want to question how and why she’s on this side of town but you know better. She’s been following you. How long? You don’t know.

“Let me take you for hot chocolate,” Natasha suggests before you can walk away. At your skeptical look, she tries again. “Just one cup.”

You fidget in place before a wave of anger washes over you.

“Why?” You find yourself asking. “I’m not a basket case. I’m not someone you can save.”

“I’m your friend and I miss you.”

“Bullshit,” You tell her. “We’ve only spoken a handful of times. Not without any of the other team around.”

“I’m trying now,” Natasha counters. She eyes Kaia again. “Does he hurt her?”

Jesus!

“How dare you?” You ask. She’s not far off from her guesses. It’s not a radical question. You know it’s not. You’re still offended at her questioning. How could she think you would ever allow him to hurt her?

“He hits you right?” Natasha accuses.

“I’m done,” You turn the stroller in the direction of home. You’re not having this conversation. You didn’t want to have this conversation. Not with her.

“Y/n, please,” Natasha begs this time. “We’re worried about you. It was either me or the team would come looking for you.”

“You didn’t tell them?” You stop. You don’t look at her. Too ashamed.

“No, dorogaya, I didn’t,” Natasha promises. You ignore the nickname she uses for you.

“One cup,” You turn. She nods. Just one cup.

******************

The cafe is one you’ve been to a few times. This time of day it’s empty. Everyone is either at work or school. They’re doing something with their lives. You help Kaia out of her coat so that she doesn’t overheat as you and Natasha sit towards the back of the diner. She’s already at the counter ordering your food while you wait. You insisted that you weren’t hungry but she’s Natasha. She cares about you.

It's hard to think about. Her caring. You shrug your coat off and allow it to hang on the back of your chair. You watch as she carries the muffins over to your table. She gives you a finger, asking you to wait, and she grabs the hot chocolate mugs too. She got chocolate milk for Kaia. The toddler takes it gratefully from her new friend. She drinks from the bottle happily.

“Oh, you’re such a big girl,” Natasha comments as she takes her seat across from you. Kaia beams at the praise. You watch how she interacts with the little girl. She’s gentle and loving. For a moment you wonder if she’s ever wanted to be a mom. Her line of work probably wouldn’t permit it. She’d be great at it.

“She likes you,” You inform her. Kaia is enamored with the other woman as Natasha engages in a game of peekaboo with her. It’s a drastic difference from the cold and aloof Avenger you used to see in the tower.

“Well, I like her too.” Natasha breaks the muffin in half to hand Kaia. Chubby hands grab onto the food and she places it in her mouth. Natasha places the muffin back on the plate before looking at you. “You look good.”

You give a half-hearted shrug.

“How are you?” Natasha asks.

“I’m fine,” You reply.

“Where is he?” Natasha asks.

“Working,” You tell her.

“Y/n, we miss you,” Natasha admits. There’s no sense in beating around the bush. “I came the next morning to your desk to see if you were still there.” You weren’t.

“I’m not anyone to miss,” You stare down into your mug. “I was just a temp.”

“A temp who became our friend,” Natasha ducks her head to catch your eye. “You can’t think that that’s all you are.”

“It doesn’t matter,”

“Doesn’t it?” Natasha replies.

“If you’re here to try and convince me to leave him I won’t.” You say.

“Won’t or can’t?”

“Nat,” You frown. “This isn’t some superhero business thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Natasha sighs. “He hits you, y/n.”

“It’s not all the time,” You feel stupid immediately after saying it. “What you saw at the party. It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t the first time he’s put his hands on you like that.” Natasha sounds so sure of herself. “I saw the bruises on movie night. The ones on your back.” Shit.

“So,” You shake your head. “I take pilates.”

“Bullshit,” Natasha says firmly. “You don't have to lie to me. He hits you.” Why does she keep saying it?

“He loves me,” You say.

“He loves Kaia too,” Natasha looks down at the little girl in question. “What happens when he hits her too?”

“Natasha, he wouldn’t.” You frown. It’s a concern you’ve had. Keith would never. Right?

“But he can,” Natasha begins. “He can and he will. Y/n, you don’t have to stay with him.”

“Where would I go,” You bite your lip nervously. “He’s all I have.”

“He’s not,” Natasha says. “He’s never been all you have. Steve would love to have you. Sam would love to cook with you again. I’d like to have you.”

“I can’t,” You shake your head. “I can’t just leave him. I’m not strong like you. I don’t want to put you out. He’ll find me.”

“You don’t have to be strong like me,” Natasha doesn’t like the sound of that. “Also, he can try and I’d kill him.” You whimper. “I’m sorry but it’s the truth. If you think he’ll come to the tower he’s even more of an idiot than I thought. If you’re up to it, I can bring you to one of my safehouses. It’s still here in the city.”

“Natasha, you don’t have to.” You shake your head.

“Please, y/n, come with me.” Natasha pleads. Your heart is beating further in your chest.

“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone,” Natasha slides a phone out of her pocket. She passes it to you. “It’s a burner. Use it. When you need I’ll come to get you. No questions asked.”

“Why?”

“I care,” Natasha says.

“I have to go,” You stand. You hurriedly put on your coat and then Kaia’s. Natasha watches you as you leave.

Would she ever see you again?

----> next part

[idk-bruh-20]

Irondad fic ideas #142

Tony is replaced by an imposter (maybe a rogue Skrull or a shapeshifter or agent of some kind), but when Peter shows up for lab day, he doesn't realize immediately, too thrown by Tony's brutally cold attitude.

His spider sense is warning him, but Fake!Tony's remarks are so cutting he can't help but react with hurt and self-doubt. Later he assumes his sense was just warning him that his mentor was finally ready to kick him to the curb

He should've listened to his spider sense instead of his anxiety, though. Because the real Tony has been kidnapped.

It's Ned who gets Peter to realize something is wrong. Ned doesn't for a second believe that Tony would just drop Peter like that. His questions and determination (and maybe some open-mindedness- "What if it wasn't the real Mr. Stark but a bad guy in disguise?") eventually get Peter to rethink the situation too

Peter goes back over the day, and he realizes... Ned is right. Tony would never say those things to him. He needs to trust in the kind of person he knows Tony is. Which means something is really, really wrong.

Meanwhile, Fake!Tony has been busy, alienating every person in Tony's life who could possibly look for him. He says awful things to Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, May... By the time Peter tries to go to them, they're all too hurt and pissed to even listen

So, it's up to him (and Ned) to rescue Tony Stark

They figure out that he's been kidnapped, track down the location, and Peter heists his way in.

He finds Tony in a cell, hurt badly. But maybe worse than that... hopeless.

Tony is laying there like he doesn't think anyone is looking for him. Like even escape seems pointless, since there'd be no one left to escape to. His captors have clearly explained their plan, probably boasting about the awful things they'd had Fake!Tony say. After hearing it, Tony doesn't blame his family at all for leaving him to die.

He's definitely not prepared when Spider-Man suddenly drops into the room.

As they escape, Tony is so moved by how much this kid believes in him. Enough to not just accept that he was capable of acting that way.

They defeat the imposter and get the real Tony to medical. The others are guilty and horrified. Peter stays close. Even though he knows it wasn't Tony speaking before, he still craves reassurance - both that Tony is okay and that he really does care - reassurance which Tony is more than happy to provide

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

marvel soulmate series ✨

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (slow buuuuuurn)

Summary: Life threw you a curve ball when you walked in on  your long term  boyfriend making out with someone who definitely wasn’t  you. Since  living with him was no longer an option, you’ve ventured out  at the  advice of a work friend and found the absolute perfect loft to  reside  in. The only issue?

You suddenly have four very odd roommates. 

[00]: Welcome Home

[01]: Rebound Sex

[02]: Mismatched

[03]: Back Up Plan

[04]: Be Nice

MARVEL ONESHOTS

Sharing is Caring [Bucky Barnes x Reader] [1,262 words]

Fate is Definitely Drunk

[Steve Rogers x Reader]

Summary: Everyone has the words their soulmate will first say to them written on their skin somewhere. You have the most average words in the known universe so you assume you’ll have a soulmate that matches that. Fate ain’t happy you underestimated her.

[one] [two] [three]

The Asgardian Way

[Thor Odinson x Reader]

Summary: When a human hits puberty they get the name of their soulmate written on their wrist. You got the name of a mythological figure and assumed it meant his parents were real big fans of Norse legend. Then aliens fell out of the sky and everything changed.

Interwoven, but Tangled

[Sam Wilson x Reader]

Summary: The red string of fate connects the pinky of one soulmate to the pinky of the other. Not everyone can see them, but since you had this rare gift you figured it was your duty to make sure as many soulmates found each other. At the very least, you could make sure your friends found their special person. What happens when your best friend’s boyfriend isn’t her soulmate though?

[one] [two]

The Color of Blood

[Bucky Barnes x Reader]

Summary: In this world, a person didn’t discover color until they locked eyes with their soulmate. As an agent of SHIELD, finding your soulmate was hardly a priority. Especially since you were currently dealing with the shocking discovery that HYDRA had been pulling the strings behind SHIELD actions this entire time. Life was all about timing, and you were about to find out that your timing was absolute shit.

[one] [two] [three] [four]

Stolen

[Tony Stark x Reader]

Summary: You were an imposter. You were desperate. You were trapped with no other way out. The fact of the matter was, you hadn’t been born with words on your skin, but now you were wearing the words of a dead girl. How far would you go to save someone you loved?

[one] [two] [three]

[maletfwitch]

Can you make a story of Loki turning Iron Man into one of his iron man suits and turning himself into Tony?

Tony was testing out some new suit tech he was working on when suddenly he felt something poke the back of his head and heard “Brain back up commencing” as he felt his mind begin to be sucked dry by something in the suit. everything went dark for a moment but when he finally came to, he felt... different.

it was as if he was in some sort of cyberspace. with no body, he just floated. until suddenly he was greeted by his own face.

“Hello... Jarvis” The imposter said before letting out a chuckle.

“Who the fuck are you and what did you do to me!” Tony asked out in a now robotic and distorted version of his voice.

“I’m Tony Stark of course, obnoxious playboy billionaire.” The imposter said with his mischievous smirk and in a mocking tone.

Tony thought about who would do this and then it clicked. “Loki?!”

“Correct I was Loki, But now I'm Tony Stark. while you are simply just a program in my suit” He said.

“You asshole! You can’t get away with this people are gonna notice you’re not me!” Tony shouted in his robotic voice.

“Trust me they won’t. Your arrogant playboy persona isn’t exactly difficult to pull off. but if you’re so concerned you can help.” Loki said with a mischievous tone.

“I would never help you!” Tony protested.

“You sure about that?” Loki said before typing something.

“I would love to help you Mr stark.” Tony felt himself forced to say “Not funny lo- Oh Loki you make a much better and sexier Tony Stark than me. Stop That!” fighting the words being forced out of him.

“Don’t like that attitude looks like I'll have to reprogram you” Loki said before letting out a chuckle while he typed.

“Wait what! please... stop-“ Tony’s AI voice began to fade as he began being reprogrammed.

Loki was programming Tony to be the perfect AI assistant for his suit. he was changing his memories to make him think he willingly gave up his body to Loki and would now constantly praise him.

Loki then rebooted the new Tony “Good Evening Master Stark looking sexy as always” Tony Greeted him.

“Good Evening Tony, Quick question who makes the sexier Tony Stark?” Loki asked with a mischievous smirk.

“You of course Master. and I'm no longer Tony I'd rather be referred to as Jarvis now or whatever you’d like to call me. Tony never fit me the same way it does for you.” Tony now Jarvis replied.

Loki was amused at how easy it was to take Tony’s body and turn him into his own virtual assistant. He would immediately begin living his new life of luxury as Tony Stark. tasting expensive wines, throwing lavish parties, and driving expensive cars not that any of them compared to his suits.

As for the Avengers, he was able to blend in just fine as Tony with no one noticing any difference between the original and the imposter. with him having their full trust he could execute his plan to ruin the Avengers for good sabotaging them any chance he got. And while doing so he was gonna try to fuck some of them too, Steve’s ass in particular has been catching his eye in that tight suit of his.

[etherealstar-writes]

hey everyone!!

so i have a few woso fic ideas in mind and would love to know which one you all would be interested in the most. btw i also feel more comfortable writing ocs instead of reader insert so i hope that's fine :)

ordinary life - arsenal wfc x teen avenger!oc - teen oc fic where she is basically trying to hide her past of being involved with the avengers, and moves away to london to pursue a career in football by playing for arsenal. and after a while, the past that she'd tried her best to keep a secret from everyone and bury deep down begins to catch up to her - basically the infinite number of times everyone is too blind to figure out that oc is an avenger is so obvious but never connected the dots

star girl - ronaldo!oc fic series - in which 17 year old adrienne ronaldo is the oldest daughter of cristiano ronaldo, trying to live up to her father's standards and carrying the ronaldo legacy. her skills even surpass her father's and everyone on the pitch can't help but be intimated by her. she's loved by all the ronaldo fans, especially her supportive father who is incredibly proud to see her thrive while he prepares to retire soon. - basically her journey from transferring to the wsl and trying to fit in her new team arsenal after playing for real madrid for a year, and facing the criticism of the media of whether or not she can really live up to the ronaldo name

popular - matildas x stark!oc chaotic group chat fic - in which kyra accidentally adds a wrong number instead of mini's in her new group chat with charli and mini, and charli and kyra end up bonding with the imposter added, the two chaotic idiots too blind to realise that she's actually the daughter of the tony stark himself - basically adora stark is just waiting to see how long it takes for them to connect the pieces together

[antigone-ks]

Lantern of Evil

It's been almost 5 years since I posted this on AO3, so I thought it was time to clean up some typos and put it onto Tumblr.

MASTERLIST

Summary:

“You’re in a good mood today,” Natasha commented, holding the phone steady as Tony and Sam devolved into a slap fight. “Haven’t seen you smile this much since, y’know.”

“This is quality entertainment,” Steve said. “You don’t get this every day.”

“No you do not.” She turned the phone toward Bucky, who whistled as he sprinkled sea salt over the meat. He looked up, winked directly at her, then tossed the rest of the seasoning like a long-haired Salt Bae.

“But you seemed pretty chipper when you snuck back in before the show started.”

***

Or, Steve gets de-serumed and falls in love over art, old movies, and taxi dances.

Rating: E for Explicity, Eventually

Tags: Steve Rogers/Reader; Plus Size Reader; Natasha Romanov (Marvel); Tony Stark; Sam Wilson (Marvel); James "Bucky" Barnes; background Bucky/Nat - Freeform; Skinny Steve Rogers; Pre-Serum Steve Rogers; Post-Serum Steve Rogers; De-Serumed Steve Rogers; all of the combinations of serums and Steves; Slow Burn; Awkward Flirting; Awkward reader; Awkward Steve Rogers; neither of these goobers know what they're doing; shameless Letterkenny reference; False Identity; horrible misunderstandings; love in art galleries; love on bridges; love on front porches; will earn rating in later chapters; I hope; inappropriate use of a history degree; Short Reader; Profanity; Fluff; Angst; Fluff and Angst; Smut; Oral Sex; Vaginal Fingering; Making Out; definitely third base; not all-the-way parking but pretty close; Biting; Cunnilingus; Fellatio; Vaginal Sex; Steve wants to be clear that this isn't fucking; Making Love

Chapter One: The Greens of June

And all the greens of June/ Come blowing through the door/ They make me want to live/ Like I never have before

____________________

You settled onto the bench, bag on the floor. The museum had barely opened – a bad sign; it meant you were either blocked or stir-crazy. Or both. Both was bad. You’d had the museum on your list of things-to-do-if-you-had-time, but when you’d first come to town you’d expected that there would never be time. You were getting the change of scenery and relief from responsibilities that you’d always wanted, so of course you never imagined that the same old problems would plague you.

Namely, writer’s block. Imposter Syndrome. “Every word I write is trash and I should sleep in the dumpster”-itis.

You’d gotten this amazing opportunity to take a sabbatical, move half a continent away, and just research the hell out of your magnum opus, a stroke of historical genius. Or what would be your magnum opus, if you could get the damn thing off the ground. Right now it was stuck at brevi opus.

Opus minimis.

You had piles of research, and a good starting point, but you either got stuck on the writing of it or spent days on end organizing the data until the sun coming in the curtains made you feel like a Morlock crawling out of its hole.

So you’d hit the museum.

It’d actually been working pretty well for you, the last few weeks, and you’d started making it part of your routine. Rather than wait for the Bad Times to force you out of the house, you’d come down every two or three days and just . . . pick something. A painting, a sculpture, whatever caught your eye, and you’d study it until your mind felt clear. Sometimes your mind would wander far enough afield that it circled back to your work, and you’d excitedly jot down a new avenue to explore or a turn of phrase you liked. Sometimes you got nothing but a peaceful feeling. Either way, it was good for you, and the initial guilt you’d felt at not being Productive At All Times had faded.

It sort of was productive, anyway. You told yourself so.

For the last couple of visits, you’d sat with Hamilton’s Joan of Arc and the Furies. It was Shakespeare’s Joan, about to be captured by the English and burned for heresy. It’s not . . . good . . . you think, you don’t like it, but there’s something about it. It’s like two different paintings in one, dark and bright, overbearing and reticent.

There aren’t many people around yet, no kiddie camp visits today, so you’re alone in this part of the gallery. The docents are used to you by now, and don’t bother eagle-eyeing you. You lean your chin on your hand and stare hard at Joan, at her Merveilleuse gown, which, like, didn’t Hamilton know she wore pants? Like, famously? But anyway.

“You know,” a deep voice said, “I’ve always wondered what’s going on with the light down by that first fury. What does it symbolize?”

You look over your shoulder at the speaker, a slightly-built blond man with a sketchbook under his arm. He’d shown up a couple of times before, wandering around with more purpose than the average tourist, like he knew which pieces he liked and why. He had a delicate face and serious eyes with just ridiculous lashes. You smiled uncertainly.

“Like, where even is it coming from? Under her skirt?” you ask, and he looks down at you and whoa nelly those are very blue eyes and chuckles.

“Is it the lantern of justice?” he says, quirking an eyebrow.

“Probably not in Shakespeare. Maybe a lantern of evil.”

“She keeps a lantern of evil in her skirt?” He’s smiling openly at you now, and it’s a really nice smile, and that’s the only excuse you have for what comes out of your mouth next.

“Lantern of evil – in my pants!” you chirp, grinning.

His eyebrows shot up and he gave an incredulous hah.

“Like, like the game?” you say hurriedly. “Where you add ‘in my pants’ to a quote, or a movie title?” You can hear your voice rising nervously and fiddle with your glasses to avoid looking at him. “One ring to rule them . . . in my pants?”

He’s laughing now – probably more at you than at the joke – but it’s enough to relax you a little bit.

“I have never played that game,” he said, eyes dancing. “But I know just the person to try it with. I’ve seen you here before,” he went on, glancing back at the painting. The tips of his ears went very pink.

“Yeah, this is turning into my happy place when work’s not going so well.” You look at Joan again and clear your throat. “I think I saw you, too . . . maybe Sunday?” Not that I noticed you. I’m not a creeper. I notice nothing. I can barely see.

He nodded and shrugged. “Probably, yeah. I’ve been here a lot over the past week.”

“Work got you down, too?” you ask. He kind of purses his lips and nods. Taking a breath, you gesture to the empty half of the bench. “Want to share Joan with me? She’ll take your mind off it.”

His smile is a slow, gentle thing, and even though you say nothing more until it’s time to leave, you feel warmer for sitting near him.

***

“Because they’ll clog up the drain.” Tony’s voice is clipped.

“They get rid of odors,” Natasha points out.

“So it was you.”

“You think I drink that light roast nonsense?” She looks up as Steve enters, the light of battle in her eyes. Well, the light of annoying Tony. It’s not hard. “Weak.”

“Now you’re a coffee snob, Romanoff? You – “ Tony points a pair of tongs at Steve “ – do some reconnaissance, rally the troops, whatever it is you do, and catch this villain.”

Steve clucks his tongue and fails to hide a grin. “Coffee grounds again? You know, we could just get a Keurig and solve that problem easily.” He ducks as both Tony and Natasha turn on him, allied in outrage.

“Just for that,” Tony says, “you get whichever steak I overcook.”

Steve eyes the barstools at the island. He can get into them now, but it involves just enough scrambling that it hurts his dignity. No one said anything the first time he did it, not even Tony, and that was somehow worse than teasing would have been. He’s not broken, for God’s sake. He’s a man of temporarily reduced stature. It’ll be fixed in no time, Bruce and Tony and Helen have promised, but . . .

He’d read a book once that described a gnome as a person whose ‘belligerence was compressed into a body six-inches high and, like many things when they are compressed, had an inclination to explode.’[1] Steve didn’t consider himself belligerent – although he had the urge to cross himself in penance and hope that Bucky was in a different building when he thought it – but he did feel like every human emotion was currently packed into a body too small to hold it all. This body didn’t fit, except that it did, and Steve honestly wasn’t sure which feeling was worse.

He leaned against the counter with – he hoped – an insouciant air and nodded at Tony. “’s long as I can gnaw through it.”

“Are you impugning my grilling skills, Rogers?”

“Wait, you’re gonna grill those?” Sam and Bucky entered the kitchen, apparently fresh off a sparring match. Sam’s skin glistened with sweat, and Bucky wasn’t much better off. Sam might not have super serum in his veins, but he wasn’t a pushover in the ring.

“How else d’you cook ‘em?” Bucky asked, wrinkling his nose at Sam.

“You sear ‘em on the stovetop in a cast-iron skillet,” Sam said, holding up one finger, “finish ‘em in the oven,” two fingers, “serve with a garlic-herb butter.” Three fingers, waved in Bucky’s face.

Natasha leaned on the counter next to Steve and pointed her phone toward the argument. “Every time,” she whispered, hitting "record."

“Every time,” Steve answered.

“In the oven? Cook like a man, Sam!”

“Grill makes ‘em too dry,” Sam insisted.

“Hey!” Tony snapped his tongs at Bucky. “My meat. My rules.” He straightened his shoulders under Sam’s withering look. “On the grill, flip once a minute for the good grill marks.”

“That’s overhandling.” Sam’s tone suggested he was heading straight to church to light all of the candles for Tony’s soul.

“Wait – everyone, wait,” Steve broke in. Natasha quirked her lip at him, annoyed that he was ruining the show. He winked at her. “The real issue here is, aren’t you gonna season those things?”

“Yeah, where’s the salt and pepper, bud?” Bucky asked.

“Don’t start with me,” Tony warned.

“Where’s the steak spice,” Sam asked, rummaging through the cupboards. “I made you a steak spice months ago. My own blend, Tony. I gifted it to you. I’m not eating one of your bland-ass steaks again.” Tony abandoned the meat in favor of bodily hauling Sam away from the cupboards, giving Bucky time to grind at least a little peppercorn on each of the steaks.

“ – my steaks alone!” “ – killing the flavor, man. Killing the flavor!” “ – oversalting!” “ – can’t cook ‘em right, you leave it to someone who can!”

“You’re in a good mood today,” Natasha commented, holding the phone steady as Tony and Sam devolved into a slap fight. “Haven’t seen you smile this much since, y’know.”

“This is quality entertainment,” Steve said. “You don’t get this every day.”

“No you do not.” She turned the phone toward Bucky, who whistled as he sprinkled sea salt over the meat. He looked up, winked directly at her, then tossed the rest of the seasoning like a long-haired Salt Bae.

“But you already seemed pretty chipper when you snuck back in before the show started.”

Steve’s eyes were wide with injured innocence. “Snuck? Back in? I –“

“Can it. I don’t care – probably no one will recognize you – but if Tony finds out he’s going to turn into Chicken Little about security.”

“Tony can go lay an egg,” Steve said firmly, making Natasha snort with real laughter.

She sighed. “As hilarious as this is, I’m getting hungry." her voice carried across the kitchen. "Knock it off of or I’m calling Rhodey in.”

Tony straightened, Sam’s arm still around his neck. “Betrayal, Romanoff. I feel betrayed.”

“Yeah, no calling in the brass,” Sam complained. “We can settle this on our own.”

“Better settle that meat on the grill before the others get here,” Steve said. “Want help?”

“Excuse me,” Tony said, affronted. “I can handle the meat.”

The words left Steve’s mouth before he could stop them “ – in my pants?”

Natasha dropped the phone.

____________________

[1] Terry Pratchett, The Fifth Elephant

case/lang/viers – “Greens of June”

And all the greens of June/ Come blowing through the door/ They make me want to live/ Like I never have before

Read Chapter Two

[late-to-the-party-81]

Meet, Greet, Indiscreet - Chapter 2

AN: Thank you all for reading part one. I hope you enjoy this next instalment, about when Steve and Bucky next met, over 10 years later. Catch up here.

Beta’d by @endlesstwanted who is the comma wrangler in chief.

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Join my tag list here

Master list | Stucky Bingo Master List | SRB Master list

Summary: With their actual initial meeting revealed, it’s time to address the first time that rumours swirled around the pair of them  - the Nouveau Tech Gala last year. With such a large period of time between their first and second meetings, would Steve even remember the young man from the Battle of New York?

Relationships: Modern Bucky Barnes x Cap! Steve Rogers

WC: 3k

CW: Modern Bucky Barnes, Cap! Steve Rogers, Anxiety, Fluff, TV Interview, Flashback, Flirting, Social Media goes wrong, Nat is a good bro.

Bingo Fills and Challenges

@stuckybingo - G4 - Sunsets 

@steverogersbingo- A2 Steve vs Social Media

A year ago

Bucky stuck a finger down his collar and tugged at it, desperately trying to reduce the feeling of being strangled. He didn’t often wear suits - in fact, he didn’t often wear anything that wasn’t a pair of shorts and a graphic tee -, but he needed to make a good impression that night. For more than one reason.

Primarily, he was well aware of what an honour it was to be invited to Tony Stark’s Nouveau Tech Gala, and he needed to get that across in his dress. His usual attire, as well as being comfortable, was now his signature for his followers, hence why it had become almost like a uniform by now. However, it was definitely not suitable for an event like this, which had necessitated him squeezing himself into this constricting monkey suit. He had kept his baseball cap on, though - he did need people to actually recognise him.

Secondly, it was highly likely that a certain supersoldier, who may or may not have been his number one crush, was going to be in attendance. He’d never forgive himself if his second meeting with Steve Rogers wasn’t at the very least a mild improvement on the first. Not that he’d really know who Steve was that day, other than the very athletic and very handsome man who’d save him - and yeah, a load of others - from certain death. Even though he doubted it was possible, a small part of him hoped that Steve would recognise him. Obviously it would be even better if Steve agreed to become the person he already was in Bucky’s private imaginings, but that was even less likely than another alien attack on New York.

Having gone through security, his invitation and ID strenuously checked, Bucky made his way into the ballroom of the opulent hotel. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t having Tony Stark standing right there, as if waiting to personally welcome him.

The eccentric billionaire slash superhero clapped him on the shoulder. “Barnes, right?”

Bucky nodded, feeling like a gauche imposter. Luckily for him, Tony didn’t seem to notice. He slung an arm across Bucky’s shoulder and steered him across the crowded room.

“I was waiting for you. My kids told me that if I didn’t get at least three selfies with you then, not only would I be ‘mid’, but they’d ‘put me on blast’, whatever the heck that means. But before that, I need to introduce you to the others. Nat and Clint are avid gamers - something about getting their kicks without being arrested. I decided I didn’t want to know any more than that…”

Bucky looked up as they approached, easily able to identify each of the Avengers and feeling even more like he didn’t fit in there. He could see the faces of Natasha - the Black Widow -, Clint Barton, and Thor. He could see Bruce Banner’s profile. And Steve Roger’s back. His broad shoulders, slim waist, and solid thighs all expertly encased in a tailored suit. He’d sort of been expecting this, but he wasn’t ready for it all the same. How was he going to keep a straight face when looking at the man who’d starred in the filthiest of his fantasies?

What he hadn’t banked on, though, was Steve being in a bad mood. “I don’t even understand what this event is for,” Bucky heard the man of his dreams utter. “Why would anyone want to pretend to play war, and so vividly as well? I just don’t get it.”

Nat cocked her head and gave Steve a look. “You don’t have to get it, Steve. You have other ways to relax and escape the world, like your art. For some of the rest of us, pretending to blow shit up does the trick.”

Bucky could see Steve raising his arms in a placating gesture. “Alright, maybe I do get that, I suppose. But people who make money - their livelihood - from playing these games in front of an audience? That’s weird, right?”

It was obvious from their faces that the others had seen Tony approach with him by his side, but Steve, with his back to them, did not.

Tony coughed. Loudly. Steve spun round and his face went an interesting shade of pink.

“So,” Tony drawled, “I wanted to introduce you all to James Barnes - Bucky. He’s the one that Pete and Harley love, and said they’d disown me if I didn’t invite.”

A round of various greetings sounded from the assembled Avengers, the last one being from Steve himself. Unfortunately, it was more of a muffled grunt than anything else. Bucky tried to fight the heat that was rising in his own cheeks, and swallowed thickly.

“It’s great to meet you all. I feel, standing here, that I have no right to call myself famous. You guys… well. You’re real life heroes and I’m in awe.”

The group smiled and brushed off his starstruck comments, thenstarted to ask him about the games he played and his channel. As Tony had mentioned, both Clint and Natasha were big fans of the CoD franchise, and it wasn’t totally surprising when Dr Banner admitted that he’d dabbled in MMORPGs.

“I like the one with the talking mushroom and the cars and blue seashell,” Thor announced, smiling broadly.

The others chuckled, and Clint leant across to Bucky, his hand held up by his mouth so he could stage-whisper “Don’t be suckered in by his innocent and naive demeanor. He’s a shark at Mario Kart.”

Throughout the whole exchange, Steve stayed silent, and from the corner of his eye, Bucky could see the supersoldier giving him strange looks. He tried not to get too disheartened by it. It was a long shot, thinking that Steve might remember him, and now the man he idolised thought he wasn’t worthy of respect.

The conversation started to wind down, the superhero group returning to discussions about omissions and wounds and bad guys, so Bucky decided to excuse himself. Plucking a glass of champagne from one of the many circulating waiters, he made his way across the vast ballroom and out onto the balcony, which overlooked Manhattan.

The sun, while still fully visible, was low in the sky. Its rays bounced orange off of all the glass skyscrapers and Bucky couldn’t help but think back to that horrific day, all those years ago. The recovery that the city had made was almost unbelievable. Speaking of unbelievable… 

Bucky let out a loud sigh, as he remembered how Steve had disparaged him and what he did. There went his hopes.

As he sighed again, he heard a voice from behind him. A very recognisable voice.

“So, you’ve found my secret hiding place?”

Schooling his features, Bucky turned his head to the side as Steve joined him at the concrete balustrade. “It’s not so secret. The main room is only fifteen feet away.”

Steve snorted and his lips twitched up. “The jig is up. You’ve discovered my terrible secret. I’m no good at small talk.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” Bucky replied. “Why do you think I make my living from behind a screen? I am weird, after all.”

Steve blushed again, looking chagrined. “Yeah, sorry you heard that. It was very rude of me. I know nothing about you and I should know better than that.”

“It’s okay - you’re not the only one to think that way. But my job isn’t just playing games for fun. It takes hours of practice to get as good as I am. I have to study game theory, and for the longest time I was my own PR team and my own accountant. Finding tournament fees at the beginning wasn’t easy.”

“How long have you been doing this - the gaming and Tube thing?”

Bucky’s own lips formed into a smile. “Since college. I studied Games and Game Design there. My parents thought I was crazy, wanting to make it my life, but I was determined to succeed.”

Steve turned his head away to stare out at the view and the gradually setting sun. “Is that why you were there that day? At the bank. Were you getting a loan or something?”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “You remember? You remember me?” His heart started to thump in his chest and Steve turned back to him, ocean blue eyes sparkling.

“Uh, yeah. It’s not everyday that aliens try to destroy New York and a pretty young man kisses me.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to look embarrassed. “Yeah - sorry about that. It was a totally inappropriate move by younger me. My Ma would have had my hide if she’d found out. She raised me better than that.”

“Hey,” Steve said in a placating and amused tone. “I liked the boldness. It was refreshing and just not something I was used to.”

In that moment Bucky realised something. Steve was flirting. With him! Stay cool, Barnes…“So,” he tried to say as nonchalantly as possible. “Tell me about the other things you weren’t used to then, but are now.”

From his inside jacket pocket, Steve pulled out a small notebook with an equally small pencil. “Where should I start?”

The pair of them laughed and Steve took a step closer so he could show Bucky all of the things he had written down. As they talked, Bucky tried desperately to pay attention to what Steve was saying, instead of just staring at him and mooning over how dreamy his voice was. The way the rays of the setting sun played over the planes of his face was hypnotising, and the urge to touch him was almost irresistible. 

It wasn’t until he started to shiver that Bucky realised that the light was almost gone, and with it the warm temperatures of the day. Steve also noticed his reaction.

“We should get you back inside. I sometimes forget that I run hotter than normal folks and therefore don’t notice when it starts to get cold.” 

Steve placed his hand into the small of Bucky’s back and Bucky mentally gave parts of his body a stern talking to as the thrill of the contact, over clothes as it was, zipped through him.

“I gotta ask, with all of your catching up with current day tech, etc., do you actually know how to use Twitter? I see you have an account and the odd thing gets posted, but I wasn’t sure if that was you or a PR person.”

Steve ducked his head down, a lock of his hair falling forward onto his forehead and making him look a lot younger than his physical age of around forty, even with the beard. “It’s generally me, with a bit of help from one of the others. Hence why I don’t use it often.”

“Well, if you want to, or something, feel free to follow me. Or hit up my DMs. Or whatever.” Did he sound cool enough? Had he rambled too much? They halted just inside the doors and faced each other, half hidden by some kind of potted palm.

“Yeah, maybe I will,” Steve answered with a low voice. Bucky looked up into his eyes, feeling for a moment as if he were on the ocean, swaying, drowning. Was it his imagination or was Steve moving closer to him?

“There you are, Capsicle!” Tony’s voice somehow sliced through the general cacophony in the room and it felt to Bucky as if all eyes were now on him and Steve. “Sorry to intrude on whatever this is,” he gestured between them, and Bucky couldn’t tell if Steve was embarrassed or annoyed. Probably both. “But I need your help with General Ross. You’re much better with these military types than me, and Bruce is hiding in the restroom until he leaves.”

Steve flashed an apologetic glance over at Bucky and he couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Don’t worry about me. It was nice talking to you, Steve.”

As Tony steered Steve away, Bucky took a few deep breaths, trying to process what had just happened. Had Steve been making a move to kiss him? He made his way over to the bar, greeting those he knew in the computing and social media industry who were also present. Perched up on a bar stool, he’d just taken a sip of his cold beer when the Black Widow appeared at his side, her lips quirking into a Mona-Lisa smile. “I gotta say, Steve is really taken with you.”

Bucky spluttered and grabbed at the pile of napkins, trying to quickly clean up the bar top. “What do you mean? He and I only just met.”

Natasha raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “That might be so, but he’s never committed a Twitter faux pas before.” The bartender placed a martini glass in front of her and she casually picked it up and took her own sip. Bucky was confused by her statement, but pulled his phone from his pocket to see what she was talking about.

His mouth fell open.

Three minutes before, Steve had taken him up on his offer of contacting him through Twitter. However, he hadn’t sent him a DM message. No, he’d outright tweeted, just tagging Bucky in it.

“@BBarnesGamer, If it’s not inappropriate of me, I’d love to meet up again and recreate that kiss.”

The blood drained from Bucky’s face. “Oh no…”

Nat placed her glass back on the bar and opened her purse as though she didn’t have a care in the world. She pulled out her own phone and started tapping at the buttons. “Don’t worry about it, Barnes. I’m getting it deleted now and if anyone asks we’ll blame it on Clint stealing his phone for a prank, thinking it was mine.” She put her phone away and Bucky refreshed the app, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw the tweet was gone.

“But does that mean he didn’t really mean it? If he asked you to delete it?”

“Oh, he means it,” she said, her nose crinkling up. “And he has no idea at the moment that he contacted you the wrong way. I just deleted it because, firstly, Steve isn’t out yet, and secondly, I don’t peg you as the type who wants to be romanced with the whole world peering at you. Now, smile.”

She pointed off to his side and he looked up, baffled. Two things happened at once. Firstly, Nat’s lips came down on the corner of his, almost a full kiss but not quite, and secondly a camera went off. Bucky blinked away the bright spots floating in his vision as Nat smoothed down her hair. “There. Damage control. Now, if I were you, I’d be the one to start up the next DM conversation. Or better yet, pick a more secure platform. Good luck, Mr Barnes, and remember, I know how to use a real gun.”

She waltzed off as if she hadn’t given him the most intimidating ‘shovel talk’ ever, and Bucky wondered what he’d let himself in for.

Present

The host was chuckling, and Bucky couldn’t blame him. Looking back, it was a pretty funny story. “I always wondered what had happened there. It was a flurry of gossip for a few days, but once that photo surfaced it all seemed to make sense. And you and the Black Widow did seem to make a cute looking couple. Steve, when did you realise what you’d done?”

Steve smiled sweetly. “Only a short time later. Nat came over and let me know what had happened, but that she’d fixed it. I’d never been so grateful for her before. She didn’t tell me about the photo though. That took me by surprise. It was her way of getting back at me for causing her an issue. The worst thing, though, was the teasing I got from Tony. How that man managed to keep his mouth shut in public, I have no idea.”

“Well,” the host said, pushing his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose, “it all seemed to work out in the end.”

“Absolutely,” Bucky agreed. “And I couldn’t be happier.”

“It does, however, bring us up to the incident of three weeks ago, which it seems there was no covering up for - if you’ll pardon the pun.”

Bucky bit on his lower lip, desperately trying not to laugh. Yes, at the time it happened it was definitely mortifying - for Steve more so, but in the few weeks and with time to reflect, it was frankly even more amusing than the Twitter incident. The big downside, obviously, was that it had forced Steve to come out. Bucky himself had been out for years, raised in a time when it was more acceptable to be gay.

“As I said earlier,” Steve intoned, “it definitely wasn’t the way I would have wanted to come out and announce my relationship, but that doesn’t mean I’m ashamed of either myself or Bucky. I love James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, and that’s something the world is gonna have to deal with.”

“Here, here! But in terms of what happened - can you tell us how that even came about? I don’t suppose that anyone at the tournament was expecting to see what they saw.”

Somehow, despite it all, Steve managed to chuckle, and Bucky couldn’t be more proud of his adaptability. “I can definitively say that I wasn’t planning it, but that’s what happens when you’re tired, post-mission, and not paying attention to the things around you. I’m going to blame the super-robots.”

However, Bucky still wanted the last word. “I’m gonna blame his inability to read a calendar.”

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796, @christywrites,

@alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @crayongirl-linz, @mightstill, @nicoline1998enilocin, @starrkermarvel,

[thewhitespiderwitch]

Y'all I realized

So you guys know how Tony Stark nicknames everyone right? And to do the voice identification you have to say your nickname?(Unless you're @serenastark-official)

I realized that my sister's would just be her old identity "Natalie Rushman", because she hates it enough and Nat threatened Tony after he called her "Triple Imposter".

This just proves how scared Tony is of Nat.

[cryptid-moone]

[OUTDATED]

Haha designs (and I redid their super suits I'm sorry I took away penny's green suit it wasn't the vibe 😭)

Also finally character info stuff!!

Wilbur: so basically he hasn't changed too much from the movie and video game, he thinks things though a bit more (not by much tho lmaooo)

since he's a bit older the teenager crisis kicks in and I say he has imposter syndrome low key cuz he's teaming up with literal superhero's and his dad is basically Tony stark and in his mind he can't match up or make a name for himself without being tied to his dad and he feels like he doesn't like- measure up to the other three so we get a character arc 😈

Penny: she's still doing spy work but as a civilian she's still a celebrity as it's been like a year since she quit the show. She's still a bit shaken up by the events of the movie and has trouble opening up to the others, it gets better tho.

Small thing about the powers she gets in the au, she has empathy powers (can basically feel others emotions and vice versa) and on some level can communicate with animals. She gets a hold on her powers way easier than Wilbur.

Hiro: does hero work after the movie (never seen the show) he's still very sore about Tadashi's death (reasonably so) and is very snippy. He is super closed off the with others and that's kinda how he and Violet grow close 👀

Violet: a lot more open after both movies, still a hit stand offish though, she and Wilbur clash A LOT, like enemies type shit. At some point they're gonna have a really bad argument and someone's issues are gonna get aired tf out and they'll reach a understanding or find common ground and become friendly to each-other. Not now tho lol

[daydreamerdrew]

Iron Man (1968) #18

[thevalkyriecrash]

i watched avengers endgame for the first time a few days ago and the experience was fun bc i was on the phone making fun of it. but the movie was very very very bad. i can't even say steve was there bc he wasn't really. he wouldn't wear those fuck ass plaid rattan shirts so that's how i know it was an imposter they got some other white guy in there. and bucky was there for 2 seconds and all he did was stand gayly. they had sam fucked up too with the beard. but at least heee was there. and they gave natasha a mid ass death bc they hate women even though she was carrying the entire world on her back for this entire franchise. its a good movie if you have never seen any other movies and you were raised in a padded room and this is all they fed you. 0.5 stars only because tony stark died

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

Name On File

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52108594 by inkinmyheartandonthepage “Right, well, you see sir. We were going over the interns paperwork and, well, there seems to be-“ Sarah cut herself off, clutching the file tighter in her hands. “There seems to be…?” Tony prompted gently. “Well, we, uh, believe that one of the interns is an imposter,” Sarah rushed out. OR Peter Parker forgets to tell Tony's he's trans and SI thinks he's an imposter. Words: 2144, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 232 of We Forgot Peter Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones (Marvel) Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Additional Tags: Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Peter Parker is a Mess, Trans Peter Parker, Teen Peter Parker, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Parent Tony Stark, BAMF Tony Stark, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Stark Industries Employee Peter Parker, Stark Industries (Marvel), Stark Industries Intern Peter Parker, Tony Stark is Supportive, Good Friend Ned Leeds, Protective Ned Leeds, Ned Leeds is a Little Shit, Good Friend Michelle Jones (Marvel), Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Family Fluff, Trans Male Character, Light Angst, Worried Tony Stark, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Prompt Fill, Prompt Fic, Complete read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/52108594

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Stolen

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of murder/torture, angst, cursing, this one actually does use the ‘insert name’ thing just b/c it made writing certain parts easier

Word Count: 4,423

Summary: You were an imposter. You were desperate. You were trapped with no other way out. The fact of the matter was, you hadn’t been born with words on your skin, but now you were wearing the words of a dead girl. How far would you go to save someone you loved?

The room was cold. Not a subtle cold that brushed against you leaving goose bumps against every inch of your exposed skin, no, it was a deep, painful kind of cold. The kind of cold that seeped into your bones and penetrated your soul. The type you felt you’d never escape.

Even if you could get through the concrete levels that were built like a maze or the guards with guns around every corner, even if you reached that fresh air outside the compound, did you deserve to escape? After selling your soul to the devil, did you still deserve freedom?

The door across from the table where you sat opened and the devil himself strolled through with a grin on his face. His blond hair was always slicked back without a strand out of place, his cold blue eyes made the room seem even colder now, and the stupid, smug grin made your skin crawl with unease.

“Good morning, kiddo. Did you have a good night? Enough time to think on your decision?” Dr. Anderson asked in a warm voice. The word decision was ridiculous. You had no decision. Him and every other person in this complex who wore that badge, the one with the weird red skull octopus hybrid, had taken that decision away from you two days ago when they dragged you in here. You didn’t reply to him and lowered your gaze to a spot on the metal table your arms were leaning against. If the table wasn’t there you probably would’ve slumped to the ground into a pile of nothing by now. “You seem rather quiet, my dear. You were so vocal before. I must say, I think I miss that dry wit.”

“Is she ok?” You spoke, but your voice was hoarse and broken.

“Of course.” He said with a brief shake of his head, “I would never lie to you.”

You bit back any reply that came to mind. Anything you said or did at this point could affect her and that was something you couldn’t risk. So instead of calling Dr. Anderson on his bullshit, you nodded, “So how does this work then?”

His grin morphed into a sinister smirk as he took the seat across from you, “You needn’t worry at all. We’ve done this operation dozens of time—”

“How many of them survived?”

His smirk faltered and you immediately regretted opening your mouth and asking anything at all. Dr. Anderson cleared his throat, “You’re right. There have been no survivors, but I’m very hopeful with you. You’re the 11th woman.” This man had played a hand in murdering ten other women, but he wasn’t even batting an eye at this. “You know what they say, right? 11th time’s the charm?”

Dr. Anderson laughed at his own joke, but you didn’t find much humor in what he said. What he was doing here was ungodly. It was an act against nature to toy with something so simple and beautiful, something so pure and untouched by man.

“Why are you doing this?”

“We worked though all the kinks, and you could not be a more perfect specimen for this procedure.” Dr. Anderson ignored your question entirely, “We needed someone with an extremely similar genetic sequence. Perfect is impossible in this scenario, but the moment I saw you I just knew.” He dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a small picture. He slid it across the table to you with a nod, “Just look, the two of you could be sisters. Granted, the age difference worried us for a bit of time, but it shouldn’t throw things off too badly. You’re only six years apart from her.”

Your eyes darted down to the picture in front of you. As much as you’ve heard about this woman, this was the first time you were actually seeing her. The picture was taken without the woman knowing, and you did look scarily like her. You had the same type of hair, the same colored eyes, the same skin tone, the same body shape, and even a similar facial structure. From a distance, the two of you might have been mistaken as the same person, maybe an older version of yourself, but you could see the differences.

Her smile was so much softer than you ever hoped yours could look. Most pictures of you, your lips always twitched higher on one side than the other when you grinned and nobody would ever describe your eyes as kind, you thought. Not like this woman. She radiated gentleness.

“Why are you doing this?” You pushed the picture back at him. Why the hell would you want to look at a picture of a dead woman any longer?

“The surgery should take only three hours or so. You’ll be extremely sore afterwards and there may be some other symptoms we’re unaware of but—”

“Why are you doing this!?” You shouted and slammed your hands against the table. “Why!?”

Dr. Anderson leaned back in his chair at your explosion. He blinked once before rubbing his mouth and standing up. Slowly, he walked around the table until he stood right beside you. He leaned against the table and rapped his knuckles against the metal in front of you.

“That question isn’t important, kiddo. You need to focus on the questions that are important.” He reached out and you flinched in response. Dr. Anderson didn’t stop though, he brushed his fingers against your cheekbone. He trailed his fingers down your neck until his hand rested on your shoulder, “Do you know what questions are important right now?”

Your jaw clenched and your words came out in a whimper, “Please don’t.”

“Do you love your best friend?” He asked in a low voice. If you clenched your teeth together any harder they’d crack. “Do you want her to hurt? I personally don’t want to cause her harm, but there are plenty of other HYDRA agents who would happily do so.” You could feel your eyes begin to water, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of watching you break. “Do you want her to die? Do you want that blood on your hands? Her blood?”

You shook your head and despite trying your hardest to keep your voice steady, it cracked with your words, “N—No. Please just…just leave her alone. I’ll do anything, okay? Just leave her alone.”

“I will, kiddo. I will.” He said reassuringly, “I am a man of my word and we made a deal, did we not? I promised not to harm a hair on your friend’s head, and you promised to help me destroy Tony Stark.”

Everything around you was dark. All you could see was the mist that swirled around your body. You couldn’t tell up from down or left from right. It was like you were drifting in space. The last thing you remembered was lying on that cold surgical table as tears leaked from your eyes and streaked down to your ears. Were you in surgery right now? That couldn’t be right. You had your tonsils removed in elementary school and you specifically remembered not experiencing anything like this. It had been like you blinked and suddenly it was all over. This was something else altogether.

“If you had her here, why didn’t you just use her? Why go through all the trouble of kidnapping women and killing them?” It was your words echoing around you.

“Simple. She refused. No matter what we did, no matter what we offered, no matter how long we tortured her… She refused to betray her soulmate.” Dr. Anderson’s voice followed your own and if your mind wasn’t filled with so much fog then you would’ve cringed. You vaguely remembered this conversation. But when did it happen?

“You see, kiddo.” The longer he spoke the more you wished silence would return. Had this conversation taken place yesterday? That didn’t sound right. “She hasn’t even met her soulmate yet. She knows it was supposed to be Tony Stark, his name was written on her damn body, but she refused to seek him out. She was always just waiting. Waiting for him to find her. She’s been waiting her whole life, and I thought maybe she would’ve gotten tired of it. Maybe she’d do what I asked of her. Money can buy many things.”

“She wouldn’t give up Tony Stark.”

“She wouldn’t budge an inch. You see, these soul marks do something strange to humans. They start to think that they have this incredible connection with their ‘soulmate’, as if there is this tangible bond between two people. It’s ridiculous.”

“What are you saying?”

“Oh, you know. You’re like me and millions of other people on this planet. We never received a soul mark as a child. We grew with no mark on our skin to cloud our minds. These soul marks are foolish. The only connection there is, is made by social construct. Society says a soul mark is perfect, a soul mark leads to a happy ending, but it’s not actually true. It’s just their minds building a new reality for them to accept.”

“So, you killed her. She believed in her soul mark, refused to hurt her soulmate, so you killed her and stole the one thing she thought was worth dying for.”

“Yes. Yes, I did.”

Right before surgery, that’s when the conversation took place. You could recall it now. The fog in your mind wasn’t so heavy anymore. Did that mean you were going to wake up soon? God, maybe you were already dead.

The feeling of drifting disappeared, and it felt like your feet were planted in solid ground. Around you was still dark, but you could see yourself. There was a reflection in front of you, but you couldn’t see where the edge of the mirror began or ended.

“A soul mark is so much more than a social construct.”

It sounded like your voice, but you didn’t remember saying those words. Why would you? The entire concept was the one thing you slightly agreed on when it came to this hellish nightmare. People said it was just you being bitter because you didn’t have a soul mark of your own, but to be honest the entire concept just didn’t make sense to you. A permanent mark on your skin that gave you a peek into the future? The first sentence your supposed soulmate would ever speak to you? You had many friends with soul marks. You’ve seen big ones where the sentence took up all of the person’s arm, or torso, or leg. You’ve seen small, one worded sentences hidden behind ears or written along hips. Every mark seemed to be written in some different font. Sometimes they were elegant and neat, other times they were sloppy and rushed. Never had you ever felt jealous of someone with a mark though. It made the future seem too planned. You didn’t like the idea of fate telling you what your future entailed.

“Please don’t hurt him.”

There were your words again, but you didn’t remember ever speaking them. You lifted a hand to press against the cold mirror, but your palm pressed against the warm palm of your reflection.

Your surprised eyes met the kind ones in front of you as the reflection began to speak, and begged, “Please don’t hurt him. Please don’t hurt my Tony.”

It took an entire month for you to recover. The side effects of the surgery were more than any of the HYDRA scientists expected. For the first week, you just laid in bed unwilling to move. It felt like every internal organ had been rubbed with sandpaper, your skin was on fire, and something deep inside you just ached. Nobody would explain exactly what they did to you in that surgery, and for the first three weeks they wouldn’t let you look under the white bandage wrapped around your torso.

It took another month after that for them to teach you exactly what they wanted you to do. They trained you in the basics, punishing you for every move you did wrong, then taught you their plan in vivid detail. They had everything set out for you, they were setting up the lie you were going to have to live if you wanted your best friend to be safe.

By time the third month rolled around, you were finally allowed back out into the real world. You were living in New York now in the same apartment she did. You were being forced to live her life as if she wasn’t gone from the world. Apparently, luck had been on HYDRA’s side when they kidnapped her. She had been a bit of a loner with no family, no close friends, and no real connections. It was almost too easy for them to cut her out and slip you in. They changed some documents, and changed some pictures, and suddenly Penelope Smith no longer existed. Now it was just [Name] [Surname]. They had somehow managed to make your life and hers flow into one. Some parts of the history were truly yours and some parts were entirely hers.

They made sure you knew every detail of it though over that month of training. Your name was the same and so was your birthday. A lot of the early stuff was easy because it was the truth. It verged away from only you around the time of college. Now, according to all the files, you had a different undergraduate degree and worked as a journalist. Of course, they made it look like you had recently quit your job since you couldn’t show up one day as Penelope.

“Penelope Smith doesn’t exist.” You whispered to yourself as you stared into her mirror in what used to be her bathroom. You pulled off your sleep shirt and let your eyes trace over the mark against your rib cage. It was a shade darker than your skin, making it look more like a birthmark than a tattoo. The words ‘Before you ask, yes, I am the Tony Stark’, were scrawled in small words across your ribs in a messy font. That entire area of skin felt numb to you. No matter how much you traced your finger over it or applied pressure, it was like there was nothing there. “Penelope Smith doesn’t exist. Now there’s only me.”

You rushed out of your bathroom, topless, to get ready for the day before the reflection in the mirror could tell you otherwise.

For the most part, your days were boring. HYDRA didn’t want you to stray too far from the usual path that Penelope took everyday because they worried Tony Stark would never run into you or worse the two of you would meet at the wrong time and you wouldn’t be able to say the right words. For a group of scientists that kept preaching how they didn’t believe in fate and soulmates, they were relying a whole lot on coincidence.

You followed their instructions though. In the mornings, you worked out at the gym Penelope usually went to. In the afternoon, you sat in a coffee shop and surfed the Internet since you weren’t actually a journalist despite what the files said. In the evenings, you took long walks around the city usually on a path that conveniently passed the famous Avengers tower often. Then at night, before you fell asleep, you’d text Dr. Anderson and tell him that you hadn’t met Tony Stark yet. Another day was gone, and you prayed he didn’t reply with a threat toward your best friend. It was hardly your fault that fate didn’t want to cooperate. Maybe fate was too smart for all of you. It knew you weren’t really Penelope Smith and didn’t want you anywhere near Tony Stark.

“One venti iced mocha.” You ordered out of habit. Before the barista could list off the price, you were already digging out the right amount. You had been here enough times to know the exact price of things after tax. The only reason your coffee wasn’t already made and ready for you at this time was because today it was a new barista.

After getting your drink, you sat down at a small table by the window in a seat that gave you a view of the entire café. The cold drink in your hand was just a reminder that something wasn’t right with you anymore. You sat in your seat staring at the large coffee and trying your damn hardest not to start drinking it. Before all of this happened, you hated cold coffee. You liked hot drinks and teas that were strong and not very sweet. Now though, you couldn’t stand any coffee that wasn’t poured over ice and if it didn’t have some form of sugar or chocolate in it it tasted wrong.

That wasn’t where the changes ended either. Your taste in music was different. You hated lifting weights now and preferred running. You liked rainy days more than sunny weather, and [your favorite food] tasted bitter on your tongue. Despite the mantra you whispered to yourself every morning, sometimes you worried that Penelope Smith wasn’t entirely gone, and that maybe you weren’t entirely [Name] [Surname] anymore.

An hour had passed in that coffee shop and it felt the same as any other day you had been in here. There was only a sip of coffee left in your cup, but you still planned to stay for another hour at the least. Luckily, your favorite barista had come in and she’d probably have a new drink ready for you the moment you stood up to throw your current one away. The chime on the door went off as you scrolled through random news articles. Typically, the door chimed every other minute or so as New Yorkers rushed in for their coffee fix, but something made you glance up from your computer screen to look. The moment your eyes lifted, you saw him.

He strolled in like he owned the place wearing a crisp, dark suit and red tinted sunglasses over his eyes. You weren’t the only one to notice him walk in and the people around him were beginning to react by asking for autographs and pictures. Why wouldn’t they? He was fucking Iron Man after all.

You had imagined this moment for a long time. You practiced the words they had given you to say over and over in your mind because you knew you had to be perfect. A part of you had been excited for him to one day show up just because it meant you would be one step closer to being done with all this, but as you stared at him from across the room all you felt was dread.

Tony Stark was here in this small Starbucks that seemed almost out of the way for a guy like him. He was talking to a young boy while signing a picture for a young woman. You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat and steeled yourself for what was to come. HYDRA didn’t just want you to murder Tony Stark in his sleep or something like that. No, they wanted you to get close. They wanted you to get him wrapped around your finger so you could absorb every ounce of information he was able to give. Then when they had everything they needed, they wanted you to destroy him in every way you could. Emotionally, mentally, and maybe at the end physically. What they wanted you to do to him was horrible. They already murdered his true soulmate and replaced her with you, and now this? Just thinking about it was making you feel like the scum of the earth, but this was about more than just you. This was for your best friend. The only family you really had. You would walk into traffic for her, you would tear yourself apart for her. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for her and this was on that list.

Besides, Tony Stark wasn’t that great of a guy. Sure, maybe he really was a superhero. He had saved all of New York from being blown to nothing by a nuke when aliens attacked a year ago, but so what? You tried to remind yourself of all the horrible things you had read about him. Even if it had been in his past and even if maybe he had grown beyond it, you forced yourself to think of every negative article on him. The only way you were going to get through this was if you convinced yourself that this was not a good man. That maybe he deserved something like this. How many hearts had he crushed over the years? How many women had he slept with and left behind like they were nothing? How many families overseas suffered at the hands of his weapons?

You took a deep breath and continued to mentally list every sin the Merchant of Death committed even though it made your stomach feel like it was filled with lead. A few minutes had passed with you being unable to tear your eyes away. He ordered something, making the barista laugh, and turned to wait for his drink. He looked just like he did in every magazine and interview. His dark hair was shorter now, cut closer to the sides, but his signature goatee and smirk remained the same. He had taken off his sunglasses sometime while he was ordering and now you could see his dark brown eyes.

Suddenly, those eyes darted away from his phone and shot up to look straight at you. The moment his gaze locked with yours it felt like someone had put electricity in your veins. You tore your eyes away and instead stared at the computer screen in front of you as you tried to calm your racing heart. This was the last way you expected to react, but maybe this reaction wasn’t entirely your own.

“He’s here.” Your voice again, echoing in the back of your mind, but it was the same soft tone that you knew didn’t really belong to you. It was a whisper, a thought, but you were positive that thought didn’t belong to you.

The patch of skin against your left rib cage, the area that was numb to everything, began to tingle as it came to life. You lifted your hand to feel it, but still you couldn’t feel the pressure of your fingers against the area through your shirt. All that was there was the fire that danced across your skin.

You had been so ready to go through with it, but now all you wanted to do was run out. This was a mistake. You didn’t want to be here, you didn’t want to do this. All that steeling you had done was gone and now you just felt like a scared little girl. Slowly, you turned off your laptop and began to pack it up, but once it was all put away you couldn’t bring yourself to stand up and sprint out. Your feet were glued to the floor and your ass was stuck in that chair.

After a one more second of panic, you forced yourself to look up again and realized that had been the worst mistake of your life. He was walking over now, with a grin and coffee in hand. He was getting closer by the second, but you couldn’t seem to look away. The words on your chest were burning hotter now as your heart pounded in your chest. How could one person be so excited and so fearful at the same time?

Tony Stark stopped by your table with a smirk. Your mouth fell open slightly and he spoke confidently, “Before you ask, yes, I am the Tony Stark.” You had read those words over and over and over yet hearing them said out loud was an entirely different experience. He nodded toward the chair across from you, “You’re not waiting here for anybody are you?”

This was it. This was what HYDRA had spent a month drilling into your head. You knew exactly what you needed to say. The only question was would you do it? You wanted to keep your best friend safe more than anything else in the world. That was something you had never doubted, but now? There was something in you that was screaming for you to leave. He didn’t deserve what HYDRA had planned for him. Penelope didn’t deserve this. Nobody did.

You could say something else. You could excuse yourself and leave and Tony Stark would never know the truth.

“Please don’t hurt him.”

You didn’t want to hurt him. You truly didn’t, but the thought of HYDRA getting their slimy hands on your friend made every other thought in your mind disappear. So, you put a grin on your face that you knew looked more like one of your smirks rather than one of Penelope’s soft smiles, and you prayed that this man wouldn’t be able to see your panic, fear, and doubt.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

There was a pause, a moment of shock where his smirk fell, and he looked almost blank faced. Then, gradually, a new smile replaced it and it was one you hadn’t ever seen on the cover of any magazine or television interview. It was warm and welcoming and excited. It reached his bright eyes and it made him look years younger. He dropped down into the chair across from you and just stared at you.

“Did I leave the Tony Stark speechless?” These were your own words. From here on out you had only yourself to count on. There were no more peeks into the future you could use to guide you from here.

Tony let out a chuckle as he glanced down at the table. He rubbed his jawline and let his eyes lift back to yours and a warm comforting feeling filled your chest. Tony Stark was looking at you like you were a work of art. He looked at you as if he had finally found home and for one brief moment, you forgot that Penelope Smith didn’t exist and that you were [Name] [Surname]. You forgot because in that instant, you were just his soul mate and it felt like everything was going to be all right.

[next chapter]