MASTERLIST LINKED IN PINNED POST. roo●multiracial●31●fic daddy●shrek simp●roo boo bear●salami mommy●semen demon●hateful bitch●incredibly weird and sick●bitch of a robot●goblin queen DO NOT ASK ME WHEN THE NEXT UPDATE IS. DO NOT DM FOR UPDATES. AT THIS TIME I CANNOT ACCEPT REQUESTS. NO TAG LISTS. MY FICS ARE NONCON. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU GO FURTHER. 18+ if you can't guess 🙄 also theimaginesyouneveraskedfor. (Find my other, lighter fics there). This is a place for all my dark!fics. Mostly MCU. Some Tolkien. my AO3 username is theimaginesyouneveraskedfor. Check out my masterlist at @darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor on tumblr
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CHRIS EVANS as COLE TURNER Ghosted (2023)
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LMAO we were also watching a mario speedrun.
I asked my husband, what if when I came, I said in perfect Mario voice, 'oh ya, mario time'. And he said it's time to be quiet.
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Catherine Zeta-Jones as Elena Montero The Mask of Zorro · 1998
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ANTHONY HOPKINS as Don Diego de le Vega/Zorro THE MASK OF ZORRO (dir. Martin Campbell)
Me? A gentleman? This is going to take a lot of work. Yes.
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THE MASK OF ZORRO (1998)
dir. martin campbell
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I asked my husband, what if when I came, I said in perfect Mario voice, 'oh ya, mario time'. And he said it's time to be quiet.
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Bucky wants to talk about us not giving him sex but sir, you can't even give us kale?
Tony really went off the deep end. He's in fuck it territory in more ways than one. And he's exacerbating her relationship for sure. Sigh. My man. She deserves a younger man than both of you idiots. Someone who actually listennnnnns. These men. Oof.
Not sure who would give us that pretty necklace, but it's not Tony for sure. His necklace would be filled with diamonds and have a tracker incrusted.
Where You Are, Is Where I Want To Be
I went off.... I was only going to do a drabble...
Warnings: this fic will include dark content stalking, power imbalance, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your work life starts to infringe on your personal time.
Characters: Tony Stark, reader is Bucky's gf.
If you can spare some feedback, please reblog and leave a comment, or add a reply, or send an ask! I appreciate all your enthusiasm and time in reading my stuff. Love you! <3
“Oh no,” you pull your hand away from your neck. You frown as you hold up the loose gem.
“What’s up?” Tony asks casually as he looks up above his glasses, a tablet in hand, lips downturned in concentration.
“My necklace,” you hold up the amethyst. “It broke...”
“Hmm,” he sets the tablet down and comes around counter between you. “Let me see.”
You stiffen as he approaches, not used to him being so close. He holds out his hand and you set the teardrop gem in his palms. He squints at it and pushes his glasses up his nose. His cheek dimples.
You flinch as he pinches the chain around your neck and lines up the gem.
“Claws are bent,” he brushes his thumb over the silver. “Easy fix.”
“Yeah?” You look down at his hand, your chin almost touching the knuckle of his thumb.
“Sure,” he says. “Leave it with me.”
“Oh... well...”
“It’s important?” He asks.
“Um...” you reach back and unclasp it, letting it slack in his grasp. “Bucky gave it to me.”
He nods and examines it thoughtfully. “I’ll get it back, good as new.”
You’re not entirely sure. It’s no secret your boss isn’t much of a fan of your boyfriend. It’s complicated, but the few times you offered to quit, neither of them entertained the thought.
“Alright, thanks. I could always take it to a jeweler.”
“Pshht, don’t waste the money,” he rescinds his reach as he looks at the chain. “It’s no problem.”
“Well, thanks. I appreciate that.”
“You know me. Always tinkering with something,” he walks back around the table and leans on the stool he formerly perched on. You watch him until his dark eyes flick up. “What?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head. “Just, you know, never know when you’re in a good mood.”
“I’m not,” he grumbles and lowers his gaze as he tucks the necklace in his chest pocket. He takes the tablet and exhales. “You can thank Stephen for that.”
💎
You drag your finger around the screen, turning the schematics as your brows nearly meet in the middle. Tony’s notes are never easy to decipher. He writes in a language all the own and expects you to understand what all those little exclamation marks mean.
“Dinner’s here,” Bucky interrupts you before you can hunch any further. You look up and sit straight, rubbing the muscles beside your neck.
“Thanks,” you say. “Sorry, I got... lost.”
“Yep,” he brings the paper bag over and sets it behind your laptop, propped open on the kitchen island. “We agreed about working in the kitchen.”
“Oh, yeah...” you cringe. “I... sorry. I meant to move to the office.”
“I get it. You don’t want me taking my arm apart in here,” he shrugs. “Fair enough.”
“No, no, we agreed.” You close your laptop. “Won’t happen again.”
He opens the paper bag and takes out the first container. Honey garlic wings dripping in sauce. You asked for a salad...
“Smells good,” you say, waiting for him to hand you your greens.
He unpacks. Another container of wings, those one buffalo, and a container of french fries. You hide your disappointment. Who are you to complain? He bought dinner while you whittled away your own time working on Tony’s mess.
“I’m gonna need a bib,” you snort as he hands you a plate.
“Why? I’ll lick up the mess,” he winks. You smirk and tilt your head. It has been a while.
You pluck one wing from each container and a handful of fries. You sense him watching you. You glance up.
“That’s it?” He asks.
“You have a bigger appetite,” you shrug. “Really, it’s a lot of grease.”
He rolls his eyes. “What’s this thing you’re on about salads?”
“Nothing. I just... I’m trying to be more conscious.”
“Uh huh,” he tuts. “You know, you don’t need to worry about that.”
“I’m not worried about... that. It’s not about my body.”
“Coulda fooled me. You won’t even take off your shirt when--” he stops himself. “I miss you.”
“I know, I miss you too,” you pick at a wing. “It’s not you. I’m stressed. That's all.”
“Tell me about it,” he mutters as he eats right out of the container. “Is stress why you’re not wearing your necklace?”
You flinch and touch your throat. You look at him.
“Tony.”
“What?” He narrows his eyes.
“Tony has it.”
“Tony has it?” He sneers.
“Fixing it. The gem fell out,” you say. “I almost forgot.”
“Huh. Well, I coulda fixed that.”
“I... he offered. I didn’t want to lose the stone,” you frown.
He chews. You peek up. You see the agitation in his cheek.
“We can... tonight. I’m sorry--”
“Don’t make it like I’m twisting your arm,” he growls. A glop of sauce lands on his white tee shirt. He huffs. “Shit.”
“I want to.” You insist. It’s not a lie. You’re just so tired.
💎
You rush into Tony’s office without knocking. You’ve only done that a few times. You grip your phone tight, heart racing. He looks up at you casually as he swivels in his chair.
“Hey,” he grimaces in surprise.
“I--” You stop sharply on your heels. “I-- You said there’s an emergency.”
He snickers and leans forward, rolling closer to his desk. “False alarm.” He reaches to his pen cup and hooks his finger under the silver chain hanging from one of the pens. “All fixed.”
Your necklace dangles from his finger. You heave and drag your feet forward. You put your phone in your pocket and take the chain. You bring it up to examine.
“You cleaned it?” You mutter.
“Sure did,” he sits back.
“Thanks, Tony,” you smile. “Oh, it’s so sparkly!”
You hold it up to the light. You hadn’t realised before how tarnished it was.
“Put it on,” he says.
“Oh, sure,” you fumble with the clasp and put apart the ends.
You reach behind your neck and try to hook it. The claps slips closed and you tut. Tony gets up and nears. You try not to wince away.
“Here,” he goes around you and takes the ends from you. He hooks it in place swiftly. “There ya go.”
He drags a finger across your skin before he lets go. You shiver but ignore the odd friction. You toy with the gem and smile.
“Thanks,” you breathe.
“No problem,” he sits down and grabs his phone as the screen lights up. “It’ll get the old man off my back.”
“Old man?”
“Oh yeah. The one-armed wonder called me a thief.” He scoffs. “Real friendly guy.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t-- I told him you were fixing it--”
“Yeah, well, good luck to you. He’s not the best at listening,” he shakes his head and slips his phone into his jacket. “Speaking of, I got a meeting with those two blockheads.” He stands and blows a raspberry. “Wish me luck.”
💎
“Come here often?” The familiar voice startles you and you nearly swing your racket at Tony as you face him.
You gape at him in surprise. “Just when I can. You?”
He smirks. “Someone told me I needed to get a hobby.”
“That was a joke,” you rub your neck.
“Well, those usually are born of truth,” he shrugs. “So, you got an opponent? How’s the old man’s back swing?”
You nod and cluck. “To be honest, I was packing up. He can’t make it. He was supposed to fill in for Nat. Everyone’s busy but me.”
“And me,” he winks. “You gotta promise to take it easy on me though.” He puts his bag on the bench next to yours. “I’m a rookie. More of a golfer.”
“Ah, well, I’m not very good. It’s just for fun.”
“Never.” He unzips his bag. “Everything’s a competition.”
💎
“Coffee’s on me.” Tony reaches past you to flip his card out between his fingers. “I’ll have an iced americano.”
You turn and suppress a gasp. Lately, you just can’t seem to escape your boss. You spend enough time with him in the lab, you feel like you’re starting to go crazy.
“Hey,” your voice wobbles.
“Was just on my way out of Manhattan,” he says. “Need a boost before I deal with James.”
“Bucky?”
“Rhodey,” he corrects you. “No, I’m afraid you’re stuck with that one.”
You nod and subtly check your watch. You have a message from the very man. Somehow, you already know he’s bailing.
“Sure,” you drop your wrist and catch him checking his own phone. “Don’t let me keep you.”
He taps his card as the barista slides over the iced drinks. You take your cold brew and he takes his espresso. You raise the cup. “Thanks.”
“Oh, I’m just a nice guy,” he winks. “Anyway, I gotta scram. You know how soldiers can be about time.”
He salutes with his card and spins on his heel. He struts off. You peer around and go hide at a table in the corner. You sit and stare at your drink.
The days are growing eerie. You see less of Bucky, more of Tony. You’re not sure if you’re paranoid, insecure, or bored. It’s just tweaking something in your mind.
💎
Tony slides his phone into his jacket. It’s an oddly familiar sight. Almost every time you see him, he’s doing it.
That’s not that unusual. Most people are glued to one screen or another. But Tony only ever really played with his tablet or his gadgets in the lab. It’s the one thing that reminds you of Bucky. They love tech but they’re not so keen on the modern dependency on it.
He yawns and points. You follow the gesture to a tray of coffee. It’s the same cafe you saw him in a few times in the last week. You never really ran into him there before but the coffee is good enough that you can’t blame him for the habit.
“For me?” You ask.
“Hidden gem, isn’t it?”
“It was.” You kid as you take the cold brew labeled with your name.
“Gonna need that caffeine hit,” he drags a stool up. “We gotta get the prototype done today. I got the army breathing down my neck and now the navy’s in on it.”
“Sure,” you sip. It’s exactly how you like. No sugar with a squirt of the cinnamon roll syrup. How did he know?
“I got faith in you,” he says. “Myself, however... that’s always a question mark.”
He takes off his jacket and lays it on the table near the empty cardboard tray. He swipes up and a floating holographic screen appears. You tuck your bag into a locker behind you and turn back.
You put on your protective glasses and gloves. Tony tends to ignore any sort of precautions. He taps his fingers in the air as the middle of the table opens and the prototype rises out from within. The glowing blue tubes and steel are emblazoned into your vision.
“I think you should finish off the circuitry,” you lean in as you settle on your stool. “I’ve been fighting it for days.”
Your wrist vibrates. He spins the prototype as you peel back your glove to check the screen. It’s Bucky. ‘We need to talk’. You hate that sentence.
You flick your wrist and the screen goes black. You let your glove cover it and refocus. Or try to. Tony’s staring at you.
“You good?”
“Yep. It can wait,” you assure him.
“Right.” He opens up the panel and you shake your head. “Why don’t you test the connectors and I’ll figure out the motherboard.”
You go to work. The silence is that forged of ritual. You’ve done this so many times that words aren’t needed.
As your neck starts to ache, signalling the passage of time, you sit up and rub it. Tony grunts and his cheek pinches. His lip curls as he lets out a gutteral growl.
“Bit of advice, don’t get old,” he reaches for what’s left of his melted iced drink. He eyes it in disappointment. “Time never makes things better, does it?”
You give a tight-lipped smile. You’re too dazed to answer. You rest your elbows on the tablet and rub your temple.
“Let me go hunt down an intern to get us more,” he stands. There’s a definitive crack. He chuckles. “Yep, that’s the knee.”
He turns and limps away, stopping at the door to bend and extend his leg. You cradle your head and bring your wrist up. The message flashes again. ‘We need to talk.’
You stand up and something vibrates. You turn around. It didn’t sound like it was in the locker. You ignore it and pace around. You hear it again.
You make a few circles and a flash of light catches your eye. You stare at Tony’s jacket as his phone dims in the pocket. You go up to table and it buzzes consistently.
You shouldn’t.
You back up. It softens. You get closer, it gets more intense.
Your stomach flips. You glance at the door. You touch his jacket and softly slip the phone from the pocket. You turn it over.
‘Movement initiated’. You scroll through several notifications. ‘Elevated heartbeat’, ‘at rest’, ‘within vicinity’... You stare at the screen. It can’t be. How would he have that? And why? Why on earth would Tony Stark, your boss, be tracking you?
You shove the phone back in his pocket. You go around the table and open your locker. You take out your phone. You flip past Bucky’s messages and go into the backend coding. You don’t see anything. Nothing that would suggest a tracker. It has to be there though.
It’s just too bad the only person could figure it out is the one who put it there.
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So.
We have our top five choices. I have narrowed down the choices, with an emphasis on not having characters solely from one fandom or actor.
Please use the linked form to submit your choices for the prompt assignments.
Arranged Marriage AU Planning:
Below are prompts based on feedback.
1. Reader's family is in debt and arrange a marriage to clear the ledger.
2. Reader's controlling dad pulls funding for university and forces them to marry or be completely cut off.
3. Reader signs up for a matchmaking service where matches must agree to marry in order to meet.
4. Reader responds to an online posting looking for a wife as a last resort.
5. Reader is blackmailed into an arranged marriage.
Still trying to decide characters and reader types/personalities. You can add feedback on this form:
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Not sure who would give us that pretty necklace, but it's not Tony for sure. His necklace would be filled with diamonds and have a tracker incrusted.
Where You Are, Is Where I Want To Be
I went off.... I was only going to do a drabble...
Warnings: this fic will include dark content stalking, power imbalance, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your work life starts to infringe on your personal time.
Characters: Tony Stark, reader is Bucky's gf.
If you can spare some feedback, please reblog and leave a comment, or add a reply, or send an ask! I appreciate all your enthusiasm and time in reading my stuff. Love you! <3
“Oh no,” you pull your hand away from your neck. You frown as you hold up the loose gem.
“What’s up?” Tony asks casually as he looks up above his glasses, a tablet in hand, lips downturned in concentration.
“My necklace,” you hold up the amethyst. “It broke...”
“Hmm,” he sets the tablet down and comes around counter between you. “Let me see.”
You stiffen as he approaches, not used to him being so close. He holds out his hand and you set the teardrop gem in his palms. He squints at it and pushes his glasses up his nose. His cheek dimples.
You flinch as he pinches the chain around your neck and lines up the gem.
“Claws are bent,” he brushes his thumb over the silver. “Easy fix.”
“Yeah?” You look down at his hand, your chin almost touching the knuckle of his thumb.
“Sure,” he says. “Leave it with me.”
“Oh... well...”
“It’s important?” He asks.
“Um...” you reach back and unclasp it, letting it slack in his grasp. “Bucky gave it to me.”
He nods and examines it thoughtfully. “I’ll get it back, good as new.”
You’re not entirely sure. It’s no secret your boss isn’t much of a fan of your boyfriend. It’s complicated, but the few times you offered to quit, neither of them entertained the thought.
“Alright, thanks. I could always take it to a jeweler.”
“Pshht, don’t waste the money,” he rescinds his reach as he looks at the chain. “It’s no problem.”
“Well, thanks. I appreciate that.”
“You know me. Always tinkering with something,” he walks back around the table and leans on the stool he formerly perched on. You watch him until his dark eyes flick up. “What?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head. “Just, you know, never know when you’re in a good mood.”
“I’m not,” he grumbles and lowers his gaze as he tucks the necklace in his chest pocket. He takes the tablet and exhales. “You can thank Stephen for that.”
💎
You drag your finger around the screen, turning the schematics as your brows nearly meet in the middle. Tony’s notes are never easy to decipher. He writes in a language all the own and expects you to understand what all those little exclamation marks mean.
“Dinner’s here,” Bucky interrupts you before you can hunch any further. You look up and sit straight, rubbing the muscles beside your neck.
“Thanks,” you say. “Sorry, I got... lost.”
“Yep,” he brings the paper bag over and sets it behind your laptop, propped open on the kitchen island. “We agreed about working in the kitchen.”
“Oh, yeah...” you cringe. “I... sorry. I meant to move to the office.”
“I get it. You don’t want me taking my arm apart in here,” he shrugs. “Fair enough.”
“No, no, we agreed.” You close your laptop. “Won’t happen again.”
He opens the paper bag and takes out the first container. Honey garlic wings dripping in sauce. You asked for a salad...
“Smells good,” you say, waiting for him to hand you your greens.
He unpacks. Another container of wings, those one buffalo, and a container of french fries. You hide your disappointment. Who are you to complain? He bought dinner while you whittled away your own time working on Tony’s mess.
“I’m gonna need a bib,” you snort as he hands you a plate.
“Why? I’ll lick up the mess,” he winks. You smirk and tilt your head. It has been a while.
You pluck one wing from each container and a handful of fries. You sense him watching you. You glance up.
“That’s it?” He asks.
“You have a bigger appetite,” you shrug. “Really, it’s a lot of grease.”
He rolls his eyes. “What’s this thing you’re on about salads?”
“Nothing. I just... I’m trying to be more conscious.”
“Uh huh,” he tuts. “You know, you don’t need to worry about that.”
“I’m not worried about... that. It’s not about my body.”
“Coulda fooled me. You won’t even take off your shirt when--” he stops himself. “I miss you.”
“I know, I miss you too,” you pick at a wing. “It’s not you. I’m stressed. That's all.”
“Tell me about it,” he mutters as he eats right out of the container. “Is stress why you’re not wearing your necklace?”
You flinch and touch your throat. You look at him.
“Tony.”
“What?” He narrows his eyes.
“Tony has it.”
“Tony has it?” He sneers.
“Fixing it. The gem fell out,” you say. “I almost forgot.”
“Huh. Well, I coulda fixed that.”
“I... he offered. I didn’t want to lose the stone,” you frown.
He chews. You peek up. You see the agitation in his cheek.
“We can... tonight. I’m sorry--”
“Don’t make it like I’m twisting your arm,” he growls. A glop of sauce lands on his white tee shirt. He huffs. “Shit.”
“I want to.” You insist. It’s not a lie. You’re just so tired.
💎
You rush into Tony’s office without knocking. You’ve only done that a few times. You grip your phone tight, heart racing. He looks up at you casually as he swivels in his chair.
“Hey,” he grimaces in surprise.
“I--” You stop sharply on your heels. “I-- You said there’s an emergency.”
He snickers and leans forward, rolling closer to his desk. “False alarm.” He reaches to his pen cup and hooks his finger under the silver chain hanging from one of the pens. “All fixed.”
Your necklace dangles from his finger. You heave and drag your feet forward. You put your phone in your pocket and take the chain. You bring it up to examine.
“You cleaned it?” You mutter.
“Sure did,” he sits back.
“Thanks, Tony,” you smile. “Oh, it’s so sparkly!”
You hold it up to the light. You hadn’t realised before how tarnished it was.
“Put it on,” he says.
“Oh, sure,” you fumble with the clasp and put apart the ends.
You reach behind your neck and try to hook it. The claps slips closed and you tut. Tony gets up and nears. You try not to wince away.
“Here,” he goes around you and takes the ends from you. He hooks it in place swiftly. “There ya go.”
He drags a finger across your skin before he lets go. You shiver but ignore the odd friction. You toy with the gem and smile.
“Thanks,” you breathe.
“No problem,” he sits down and grabs his phone as the screen lights up. “It’ll get the old man off my back.”
“Old man?”
“Oh yeah. The one-armed wonder called me a thief.” He scoffs. “Real friendly guy.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t-- I told him you were fixing it--”
“Yeah, well, good luck to you. He’s not the best at listening,” he shakes his head and slips his phone into his jacket. “Speaking of, I got a meeting with those two blockheads.” He stands and blows a raspberry. “Wish me luck.”
💎
“Come here often?” The familiar voice startles you and you nearly swing your racket at Tony as you face him.
You gape at him in surprise. “Just when I can. You?”
He smirks. “Someone told me I needed to get a hobby.”
“That was a joke,” you rub your neck.
“Well, those usually are born of truth,” he shrugs. “So, you got an opponent? How’s the old man’s back swing?”
You nod and cluck. “To be honest, I was packing up. He can’t make it. He was supposed to fill in for Nat. Everyone’s busy but me.”
“And me,” he winks. “You gotta promise to take it easy on me though.” He puts his bag on the bench next to yours. “I’m a rookie. More of a golfer.”
“Ah, well, I’m not very good. It’s just for fun.”
“Never.” He unzips his bag. “Everything’s a competition.”
💎
“Coffee’s on me.” Tony reaches past you to flip his card out between his fingers. “I’ll have an iced americano.”
You turn and suppress a gasp. Lately, you just can’t seem to escape your boss. You spend enough time with him in the lab, you feel like you’re starting to go crazy.
“Hey,” your voice wobbles.
“Was just on my way out of Manhattan,” he says. “Need a boost before I deal with James.”
“Bucky?”
“Rhodey,” he corrects you. “No, I’m afraid you’re stuck with that one.”
You nod and subtly check your watch. You have a message from the very man. Somehow, you already know he’s bailing.
“Sure,” you drop your wrist and catch him checking his own phone. “Don’t let me keep you.”
He taps his card as the barista slides over the iced drinks. You take your cold brew and he takes his espresso. You raise the cup. “Thanks.”
“Oh, I’m just a nice guy,” he winks. “Anyway, I gotta scram. You know how soldiers can be about time.”
He salutes with his card and spins on his heel. He struts off. You peer around and go hide at a table in the corner. You sit and stare at your drink.
The days are growing eerie. You see less of Bucky, more of Tony. You’re not sure if you’re paranoid, insecure, or bored. It’s just tweaking something in your mind.
💎
Tony slides his phone into his jacket. It’s an oddly familiar sight. Almost every time you see him, he’s doing it.
That’s not that unusual. Most people are glued to one screen or another. But Tony only ever really played with his tablet or his gadgets in the lab. It’s the one thing that reminds you of Bucky. They love tech but they’re not so keen on the modern dependency on it.
He yawns and points. You follow the gesture to a tray of coffee. It’s the same cafe you saw him in a few times in the last week. You never really ran into him there before but the coffee is good enough that you can’t blame him for the habit.
“For me?” You ask.
“Hidden gem, isn’t it?”
“It was.” You kid as you take the cold brew labeled with your name.
“Gonna need that caffeine hit,” he drags a stool up. “We gotta get the prototype done today. I got the army breathing down my neck and now the navy’s in on it.”
“Sure,” you sip. It’s exactly how you like. No sugar with a squirt of the cinnamon roll syrup. How did he know?
“I got faith in you,” he says. “Myself, however... that’s always a question mark.”
He takes off his jacket and lays it on the table near the empty cardboard tray. He swipes up and a floating holographic screen appears. You tuck your bag into a locker behind you and turn back.
You put on your protective glasses and gloves. Tony tends to ignore any sort of precautions. He taps his fingers in the air as the middle of the table opens and the prototype rises out from within. The glowing blue tubes and steel are emblazoned into your vision.
“I think you should finish off the circuitry,” you lean in as you settle on your stool. “I’ve been fighting it for days.”
Your wrist vibrates. He spins the prototype as you peel back your glove to check the screen. It’s Bucky. ‘We need to talk’. You hate that sentence.
You flick your wrist and the screen goes black. You let your glove cover it and refocus. Or try to. Tony’s staring at you.
“You good?”
“Yep. It can wait,” you assure him.
“Right.” He opens up the panel and you shake your head. “Why don’t you test the connectors and I’ll figure out the motherboard.”
You go to work. The silence is that forged of ritual. You’ve done this so many times that words aren’t needed.
As your neck starts to ache, signalling the passage of time, you sit up and rub it. Tony grunts and his cheek pinches. His lip curls as he lets out a gutteral growl.
“Bit of advice, don’t get old,” he reaches for what’s left of his melted iced drink. He eyes it in disappointment. “Time never makes things better, does it?”
You give a tight-lipped smile. You’re too dazed to answer. You rest your elbows on the tablet and rub your temple.
“Let me go hunt down an intern to get us more,” he stands. There’s a definitive crack. He chuckles. “Yep, that’s the knee.”
He turns and limps away, stopping at the door to bend and extend his leg. You cradle your head and bring your wrist up. The message flashes again. ‘We need to talk.’
You stand up and something vibrates. You turn around. It didn’t sound like it was in the locker. You ignore it and pace around. You hear it again.
You make a few circles and a flash of light catches your eye. You stare at Tony’s jacket as his phone dims in the pocket. You go up to table and it buzzes consistently.
You shouldn’t.
You back up. It softens. You get closer, it gets more intense.
Your stomach flips. You glance at the door. You touch his jacket and softly slip the phone from the pocket. You turn it over.
‘Movement initiated’. You scroll through several notifications. ‘Elevated heartbeat’, ‘at rest’, ‘within vicinity’... You stare at the screen. It can’t be. How would he have that? And why? Why on earth would Tony Stark, your boss, be tracking you?
You shove the phone back in his pocket. You go around the table and open your locker. You take out your phone. You flip past Bucky’s messages and go into the backend coding. You don’t see anything. Nothing that would suggest a tracker. It has to be there though.
It’s just too bad the only person could figure it out is the one who put it there.
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It's there a trope we'd like to see Lloyd with. I'm using y'all's asks for drabbles... Lol
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do you think babytrapper tony would let us have a social life? like those high society parties, chairity events, whatever?
He'd want us as arm candy but how much do we have in common with boujie bitches
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Mom's gonna get us in more trouble. Like thanks for the bonding experience but you're gonna get us stabbed.
I always chuckle

This is how my husband takes pictures and they're always blurry
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Late hours definitely don't help. Keeping her tired. He probably has no qualms double scheduling her when he knows she already has plans.
Bucky is busy too which means he can also be sure to schedule around him so they never get a moment together....
Not sure who would give us that pretty necklace, but it's not Tony for sure. His necklace would be filled with diamonds and have a tracker incrusted.
Where You Are, Is Where I Want To Be
I went off.... I was only going to do a drabble...
Warnings: this fic will include dark content stalking, power imbalance, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your work life starts to infringe on your personal time.
Characters: Tony Stark, reader is Bucky's gf.
If you can spare some feedback, please reblog and leave a comment, or add a reply, or send an ask! I appreciate all your enthusiasm and time in reading my stuff. Love you! <3
“Oh no,” you pull your hand away from your neck. You frown as you hold up the loose gem.
“What’s up?” Tony asks casually as he looks up above his glasses, a tablet in hand, lips downturned in concentration.
“My necklace,” you hold up the amethyst. “It broke...”
“Hmm,” he sets the tablet down and comes around counter between you. “Let me see.”
You stiffen as he approaches, not used to him being so close. He holds out his hand and you set the teardrop gem in his palms. He squints at it and pushes his glasses up his nose. His cheek dimples.
You flinch as he pinches the chain around your neck and lines up the gem.
“Claws are bent,” he brushes his thumb over the silver. “Easy fix.”
“Yeah?” You look down at his hand, your chin almost touching the knuckle of his thumb.
“Sure,” he says. “Leave it with me.”
“Oh... well...”
“It’s important?” He asks.
“Um...” you reach back and unclasp it, letting it slack in his grasp. “Bucky gave it to me.”
He nods and examines it thoughtfully. “I’ll get it back, good as new.”
You’re not entirely sure. It’s no secret your boss isn’t much of a fan of your boyfriend. It’s complicated, but the few times you offered to quit, neither of them entertained the thought.
“Alright, thanks. I could always take it to a jeweler.”
“Pshht, don’t waste the money,” he rescinds his reach as he looks at the chain. “It’s no problem.”
“Well, thanks. I appreciate that.”
“You know me. Always tinkering with something,” he walks back around the table and leans on the stool he formerly perched on. You watch him until his dark eyes flick up. “What?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head. “Just, you know, never know when you’re in a good mood.”
“I’m not,” he grumbles and lowers his gaze as he tucks the necklace in his chest pocket. He takes the tablet and exhales. “You can thank Stephen for that.”
💎
You drag your finger around the screen, turning the schematics as your brows nearly meet in the middle. Tony’s notes are never easy to decipher. He writes in a language all the own and expects you to understand what all those little exclamation marks mean.
“Dinner’s here,” Bucky interrupts you before you can hunch any further. You look up and sit straight, rubbing the muscles beside your neck.
“Thanks,” you say. “Sorry, I got... lost.”
“Yep,” he brings the paper bag over and sets it behind your laptop, propped open on the kitchen island. “We agreed about working in the kitchen.”
“Oh, yeah...” you cringe. “I... sorry. I meant to move to the office.”
“I get it. You don’t want me taking my arm apart in here,” he shrugs. “Fair enough.”
“No, no, we agreed.” You close your laptop. “Won’t happen again.”
He opens the paper bag and takes out the first container. Honey garlic wings dripping in sauce. You asked for a salad...
“Smells good,” you say, waiting for him to hand you your greens.
He unpacks. Another container of wings, those one buffalo, and a container of french fries. You hide your disappointment. Who are you to complain? He bought dinner while you whittled away your own time working on Tony’s mess.
“I’m gonna need a bib,” you snort as he hands you a plate.
“Why? I’ll lick up the mess,” he winks. You smirk and tilt your head. It has been a while.
You pluck one wing from each container and a handful of fries. You sense him watching you. You glance up.
“That’s it?” He asks.
“You have a bigger appetite,” you shrug. “Really, it’s a lot of grease.”
He rolls his eyes. “What’s this thing you’re on about salads?”
“Nothing. I just... I’m trying to be more conscious.”
“Uh huh,” he tuts. “You know, you don’t need to worry about that.”
“I’m not worried about... that. It’s not about my body.”
“Coulda fooled me. You won’t even take off your shirt when--” he stops himself. “I miss you.”
“I know, I miss you too,” you pick at a wing. “It’s not you. I’m stressed. That's all.”
“Tell me about it,” he mutters as he eats right out of the container. “Is stress why you’re not wearing your necklace?”
You flinch and touch your throat. You look at him.
“Tony.”
“What?” He narrows his eyes.
“Tony has it.”
“Tony has it?” He sneers.
“Fixing it. The gem fell out,” you say. “I almost forgot.”
“Huh. Well, I coulda fixed that.”
“I... he offered. I didn’t want to lose the stone,” you frown.
He chews. You peek up. You see the agitation in his cheek.
“We can... tonight. I’m sorry--”
“Don’t make it like I’m twisting your arm,” he growls. A glop of sauce lands on his white tee shirt. He huffs. “Shit.”
“I want to.” You insist. It’s not a lie. You’re just so tired.
💎
You rush into Tony’s office without knocking. You’ve only done that a few times. You grip your phone tight, heart racing. He looks up at you casually as he swivels in his chair.
“Hey,” he grimaces in surprise.
“I--” You stop sharply on your heels. “I-- You said there’s an emergency.”
He snickers and leans forward, rolling closer to his desk. “False alarm.” He reaches to his pen cup and hooks his finger under the silver chain hanging from one of the pens. “All fixed.”
Your necklace dangles from his finger. You heave and drag your feet forward. You put your phone in your pocket and take the chain. You bring it up to examine.
“You cleaned it?” You mutter.
“Sure did,” he sits back.
“Thanks, Tony,” you smile. “Oh, it’s so sparkly!”
You hold it up to the light. You hadn’t realised before how tarnished it was.
“Put it on,” he says.
“Oh, sure,” you fumble with the clasp and put apart the ends.
You reach behind your neck and try to hook it. The claps slips closed and you tut. Tony gets up and nears. You try not to wince away.
“Here,” he goes around you and takes the ends from you. He hooks it in place swiftly. “There ya go.”
He drags a finger across your skin before he lets go. You shiver but ignore the odd friction. You toy with the gem and smile.
“Thanks,” you breathe.
“No problem,” he sits down and grabs his phone as the screen lights up. “It’ll get the old man off my back.”
“Old man?”
“Oh yeah. The one-armed wonder called me a thief.” He scoffs. “Real friendly guy.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t-- I told him you were fixing it--”
“Yeah, well, good luck to you. He’s not the best at listening,” he shakes his head and slips his phone into his jacket. “Speaking of, I got a meeting with those two blockheads.” He stands and blows a raspberry. “Wish me luck.”
💎
“Come here often?” The familiar voice startles you and you nearly swing your racket at Tony as you face him.
You gape at him in surprise. “Just when I can. You?”
He smirks. “Someone told me I needed to get a hobby.”
“That was a joke,” you rub your neck.
“Well, those usually are born of truth,” he shrugs. “So, you got an opponent? How’s the old man’s back swing?”
You nod and cluck. “To be honest, I was packing up. He can’t make it. He was supposed to fill in for Nat. Everyone’s busy but me.”
“And me,” he winks. “You gotta promise to take it easy on me though.” He puts his bag on the bench next to yours. “I’m a rookie. More of a golfer.”
“Ah, well, I’m not very good. It’s just for fun.”
“Never.” He unzips his bag. “Everything’s a competition.”
💎
“Coffee’s on me.” Tony reaches past you to flip his card out between his fingers. “I’ll have an iced americano.”
You turn and suppress a gasp. Lately, you just can’t seem to escape your boss. You spend enough time with him in the lab, you feel like you’re starting to go crazy.
“Hey,” your voice wobbles.
“Was just on my way out of Manhattan,” he says. “Need a boost before I deal with James.”
“Bucky?”
“Rhodey,” he corrects you. “No, I’m afraid you’re stuck with that one.”
You nod and subtly check your watch. You have a message from the very man. Somehow, you already know he’s bailing.
“Sure,” you drop your wrist and catch him checking his own phone. “Don’t let me keep you.”
He taps his card as the barista slides over the iced drinks. You take your cold brew and he takes his espresso. You raise the cup. “Thanks.”
“Oh, I’m just a nice guy,” he winks. “Anyway, I gotta scram. You know how soldiers can be about time.”
He salutes with his card and spins on his heel. He struts off. You peer around and go hide at a table in the corner. You sit and stare at your drink.
The days are growing eerie. You see less of Bucky, more of Tony. You’re not sure if you’re paranoid, insecure, or bored. It’s just tweaking something in your mind.
💎
Tony slides his phone into his jacket. It’s an oddly familiar sight. Almost every time you see him, he’s doing it.
That’s not that unusual. Most people are glued to one screen or another. But Tony only ever really played with his tablet or his gadgets in the lab. It’s the one thing that reminds you of Bucky. They love tech but they’re not so keen on the modern dependency on it.
He yawns and points. You follow the gesture to a tray of coffee. It’s the same cafe you saw him in a few times in the last week. You never really ran into him there before but the coffee is good enough that you can’t blame him for the habit.
“For me?” You ask.
“Hidden gem, isn’t it?”
“It was.” You kid as you take the cold brew labeled with your name.
“Gonna need that caffeine hit,” he drags a stool up. “We gotta get the prototype done today. I got the army breathing down my neck and now the navy’s in on it.”
“Sure,” you sip. It’s exactly how you like. No sugar with a squirt of the cinnamon roll syrup. How did he know?
“I got faith in you,” he says. “Myself, however... that’s always a question mark.”
He takes off his jacket and lays it on the table near the empty cardboard tray. He swipes up and a floating holographic screen appears. You tuck your bag into a locker behind you and turn back.
You put on your protective glasses and gloves. Tony tends to ignore any sort of precautions. He taps his fingers in the air as the middle of the table opens and the prototype rises out from within. The glowing blue tubes and steel are emblazoned into your vision.
“I think you should finish off the circuitry,” you lean in as you settle on your stool. “I’ve been fighting it for days.”
Your wrist vibrates. He spins the prototype as you peel back your glove to check the screen. It’s Bucky. ‘We need to talk’. You hate that sentence.
You flick your wrist and the screen goes black. You let your glove cover it and refocus. Or try to. Tony’s staring at you.
“You good?”
“Yep. It can wait,” you assure him.
“Right.” He opens up the panel and you shake your head. “Why don’t you test the connectors and I’ll figure out the motherboard.”
You go to work. The silence is that forged of ritual. You’ve done this so many times that words aren’t needed.
As your neck starts to ache, signalling the passage of time, you sit up and rub it. Tony grunts and his cheek pinches. His lip curls as he lets out a gutteral growl.
“Bit of advice, don’t get old,” he reaches for what’s left of his melted iced drink. He eyes it in disappointment. “Time never makes things better, does it?”
You give a tight-lipped smile. You’re too dazed to answer. You rest your elbows on the tablet and rub your temple.
“Let me go hunt down an intern to get us more,” he stands. There’s a definitive crack. He chuckles. “Yep, that’s the knee.”
He turns and limps away, stopping at the door to bend and extend his leg. You cradle your head and bring your wrist up. The message flashes again. ‘We need to talk.’
You stand up and something vibrates. You turn around. It didn’t sound like it was in the locker. You ignore it and pace around. You hear it again.
You make a few circles and a flash of light catches your eye. You stare at Tony’s jacket as his phone dims in the pocket. You go up to table and it buzzes consistently.
You shouldn’t.
You back up. It softens. You get closer, it gets more intense.
Your stomach flips. You glance at the door. You touch his jacket and softly slip the phone from the pocket. You turn it over.
‘Movement initiated’. You scroll through several notifications. ‘Elevated heartbeat’, ‘at rest’, ‘within vicinity’... You stare at the screen. It can’t be. How would he have that? And why? Why on earth would Tony Stark, your boss, be tracking you?
You shove the phone back in his pocket. You go around the table and open your locker. You take out your phone. You flip past Bucky’s messages and go into the backend coding. You don’t see anything. Nothing that would suggest a tracker. It has to be there though.
It’s just too bad the only person could figure it out is the one who put it there.
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I don't think he knows how to be good tho
Not sure who would give us that pretty necklace, but it's not Tony for sure. His necklace would be filled with diamonds and have a tracker incrusted.
Where You Are, Is Where I Want To Be
I went off.... I was only going to do a drabble...
Warnings: this fic will include dark content stalking, power imbalance, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your work life starts to infringe on your personal time.
Characters: Tony Stark, reader is Bucky's gf.
If you can spare some feedback, please reblog and leave a comment, or add a reply, or send an ask! I appreciate all your enthusiasm and time in reading my stuff. Love you! <3
“Oh no,” you pull your hand away from your neck. You frown as you hold up the loose gem.
“What’s up?” Tony asks casually as he looks up above his glasses, a tablet in hand, lips downturned in concentration.
“My necklace,” you hold up the amethyst. “It broke...”
“Hmm,” he sets the tablet down and comes around counter between you. “Let me see.”
You stiffen as he approaches, not used to him being so close. He holds out his hand and you set the teardrop gem in his palms. He squints at it and pushes his glasses up his nose. His cheek dimples.
You flinch as he pinches the chain around your neck and lines up the gem.
“Claws are bent,” he brushes his thumb over the silver. “Easy fix.”
“Yeah?” You look down at his hand, your chin almost touching the knuckle of his thumb.
“Sure,” he says. “Leave it with me.”
“Oh... well...”
“It’s important?” He asks.
“Um...” you reach back and unclasp it, letting it slack in his grasp. “Bucky gave it to me.”
He nods and examines it thoughtfully. “I’ll get it back, good as new.”
You’re not entirely sure. It’s no secret your boss isn’t much of a fan of your boyfriend. It’s complicated, but the few times you offered to quit, neither of them entertained the thought.
“Alright, thanks. I could always take it to a jeweler.”
“Pshht, don’t waste the money,” he rescinds his reach as he looks at the chain. “It’s no problem.”
“Well, thanks. I appreciate that.”
“You know me. Always tinkering with something,” he walks back around the table and leans on the stool he formerly perched on. You watch him until his dark eyes flick up. “What?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head. “Just, you know, never know when you’re in a good mood.”
“I’m not,” he grumbles and lowers his gaze as he tucks the necklace in his chest pocket. He takes the tablet and exhales. “You can thank Stephen for that.”
💎
You drag your finger around the screen, turning the schematics as your brows nearly meet in the middle. Tony’s notes are never easy to decipher. He writes in a language all the own and expects you to understand what all those little exclamation marks mean.
“Dinner’s here,” Bucky interrupts you before you can hunch any further. You look up and sit straight, rubbing the muscles beside your neck.
“Thanks,” you say. “Sorry, I got... lost.”
“Yep,” he brings the paper bag over and sets it behind your laptop, propped open on the kitchen island. “We agreed about working in the kitchen.”
“Oh, yeah...” you cringe. “I... sorry. I meant to move to the office.”
“I get it. You don’t want me taking my arm apart in here,” he shrugs. “Fair enough.”
“No, no, we agreed.” You close your laptop. “Won’t happen again.”
He opens the paper bag and takes out the first container. Honey garlic wings dripping in sauce. You asked for a salad...
“Smells good,” you say, waiting for him to hand you your greens.
He unpacks. Another container of wings, those one buffalo, and a container of french fries. You hide your disappointment. Who are you to complain? He bought dinner while you whittled away your own time working on Tony’s mess.
“I’m gonna need a bib,” you snort as he hands you a plate.
“Why? I’ll lick up the mess,” he winks. You smirk and tilt your head. It has been a while.
You pluck one wing from each container and a handful of fries. You sense him watching you. You glance up.
“That’s it?” He asks.
“You have a bigger appetite,” you shrug. “Really, it’s a lot of grease.”
He rolls his eyes. “What’s this thing you’re on about salads?”
“Nothing. I just... I’m trying to be more conscious.”
“Uh huh,” he tuts. “You know, you don’t need to worry about that.”
“I’m not worried about... that. It’s not about my body.”
“Coulda fooled me. You won’t even take off your shirt when--” he stops himself. “I miss you.”
“I know, I miss you too,” you pick at a wing. “It’s not you. I’m stressed. That's all.”
“Tell me about it,” he mutters as he eats right out of the container. “Is stress why you’re not wearing your necklace?”
You flinch and touch your throat. You look at him.
“Tony.”
“What?” He narrows his eyes.
“Tony has it.”
“Tony has it?” He sneers.
“Fixing it. The gem fell out,” you say. “I almost forgot.”
“Huh. Well, I coulda fixed that.”
“I... he offered. I didn’t want to lose the stone,” you frown.
He chews. You peek up. You see the agitation in his cheek.
“We can... tonight. I’m sorry--”
“Don’t make it like I’m twisting your arm,” he growls. A glop of sauce lands on his white tee shirt. He huffs. “Shit.”
“I want to.” You insist. It’s not a lie. You’re just so tired.
💎
You rush into Tony’s office without knocking. You’ve only done that a few times. You grip your phone tight, heart racing. He looks up at you casually as he swivels in his chair.
“Hey,” he grimaces in surprise.
“I--” You stop sharply on your heels. “I-- You said there’s an emergency.”
He snickers and leans forward, rolling closer to his desk. “False alarm.” He reaches to his pen cup and hooks his finger under the silver chain hanging from one of the pens. “All fixed.”
Your necklace dangles from his finger. You heave and drag your feet forward. You put your phone in your pocket and take the chain. You bring it up to examine.
“You cleaned it?” You mutter.
“Sure did,” he sits back.
“Thanks, Tony,” you smile. “Oh, it’s so sparkly!”
You hold it up to the light. You hadn’t realised before how tarnished it was.
“Put it on,” he says.
“Oh, sure,” you fumble with the clasp and put apart the ends.
You reach behind your neck and try to hook it. The claps slips closed and you tut. Tony gets up and nears. You try not to wince away.
“Here,” he goes around you and takes the ends from you. He hooks it in place swiftly. “There ya go.”
He drags a finger across your skin before he lets go. You shiver but ignore the odd friction. You toy with the gem and smile.
“Thanks,” you breathe.
“No problem,” he sits down and grabs his phone as the screen lights up. “It’ll get the old man off my back.”
“Old man?”
“Oh yeah. The one-armed wonder called me a thief.” He scoffs. “Real friendly guy.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t-- I told him you were fixing it--”
“Yeah, well, good luck to you. He’s not the best at listening,” he shakes his head and slips his phone into his jacket. “Speaking of, I got a meeting with those two blockheads.” He stands and blows a raspberry. “Wish me luck.”
💎
“Come here often?” The familiar voice startles you and you nearly swing your racket at Tony as you face him.
You gape at him in surprise. “Just when I can. You?”
He smirks. “Someone told me I needed to get a hobby.”
“That was a joke,” you rub your neck.
“Well, those usually are born of truth,” he shrugs. “So, you got an opponent? How’s the old man’s back swing?”
You nod and cluck. “To be honest, I was packing up. He can’t make it. He was supposed to fill in for Nat. Everyone’s busy but me.”
“And me,” he winks. “You gotta promise to take it easy on me though.” He puts his bag on the bench next to yours. “I’m a rookie. More of a golfer.”
“Ah, well, I’m not very good. It’s just for fun.”
“Never.” He unzips his bag. “Everything’s a competition.”
💎
“Coffee’s on me.” Tony reaches past you to flip his card out between his fingers. “I’ll have an iced americano.”
You turn and suppress a gasp. Lately, you just can’t seem to escape your boss. You spend enough time with him in the lab, you feel like you’re starting to go crazy.
“Hey,” your voice wobbles.
“Was just on my way out of Manhattan,” he says. “Need a boost before I deal with James.”
“Bucky?”
“Rhodey,” he corrects you. “No, I’m afraid you’re stuck with that one.”
You nod and subtly check your watch. You have a message from the very man. Somehow, you already know he’s bailing.
“Sure,” you drop your wrist and catch him checking his own phone. “Don’t let me keep you.”
He taps his card as the barista slides over the iced drinks. You take your cold brew and he takes his espresso. You raise the cup. “Thanks.”
“Oh, I’m just a nice guy,” he winks. “Anyway, I gotta scram. You know how soldiers can be about time.”
He salutes with his card and spins on his heel. He struts off. You peer around and go hide at a table in the corner. You sit and stare at your drink.
The days are growing eerie. You see less of Bucky, more of Tony. You’re not sure if you’re paranoid, insecure, or bored. It’s just tweaking something in your mind.
💎
Tony slides his phone into his jacket. It’s an oddly familiar sight. Almost every time you see him, he’s doing it.
That’s not that unusual. Most people are glued to one screen or another. But Tony only ever really played with his tablet or his gadgets in the lab. It’s the one thing that reminds you of Bucky. They love tech but they’re not so keen on the modern dependency on it.
He yawns and points. You follow the gesture to a tray of coffee. It’s the same cafe you saw him in a few times in the last week. You never really ran into him there before but the coffee is good enough that you can’t blame him for the habit.
“For me?” You ask.
“Hidden gem, isn’t it?”
“It was.” You kid as you take the cold brew labeled with your name.
“Gonna need that caffeine hit,” he drags a stool up. “We gotta get the prototype done today. I got the army breathing down my neck and now the navy’s in on it.”
“Sure,” you sip. It’s exactly how you like. No sugar with a squirt of the cinnamon roll syrup. How did he know?
“I got faith in you,” he says. “Myself, however... that’s always a question mark.”
He takes off his jacket and lays it on the table near the empty cardboard tray. He swipes up and a floating holographic screen appears. You tuck your bag into a locker behind you and turn back.
You put on your protective glasses and gloves. Tony tends to ignore any sort of precautions. He taps his fingers in the air as the middle of the table opens and the prototype rises out from within. The glowing blue tubes and steel are emblazoned into your vision.
“I think you should finish off the circuitry,” you lean in as you settle on your stool. “I’ve been fighting it for days.”
Your wrist vibrates. He spins the prototype as you peel back your glove to check the screen. It’s Bucky. ‘We need to talk’. You hate that sentence.
You flick your wrist and the screen goes black. You let your glove cover it and refocus. Or try to. Tony’s staring at you.
“You good?”
“Yep. It can wait,” you assure him.
“Right.” He opens up the panel and you shake your head. “Why don’t you test the connectors and I’ll figure out the motherboard.”
You go to work. The silence is that forged of ritual. You’ve done this so many times that words aren’t needed.
As your neck starts to ache, signalling the passage of time, you sit up and rub it. Tony grunts and his cheek pinches. His lip curls as he lets out a gutteral growl.
“Bit of advice, don’t get old,” he reaches for what’s left of his melted iced drink. He eyes it in disappointment. “Time never makes things better, does it?”
You give a tight-lipped smile. You’re too dazed to answer. You rest your elbows on the tablet and rub your temple.
“Let me go hunt down an intern to get us more,” he stands. There’s a definitive crack. He chuckles. “Yep, that’s the knee.”
He turns and limps away, stopping at the door to bend and extend his leg. You cradle your head and bring your wrist up. The message flashes again. ‘We need to talk.’
You stand up and something vibrates. You turn around. It didn’t sound like it was in the locker. You ignore it and pace around. You hear it again.
You make a few circles and a flash of light catches your eye. You stare at Tony’s jacket as his phone dims in the pocket. You go up to table and it buzzes consistently.
You shouldn’t.
You back up. It softens. You get closer, it gets more intense.
Your stomach flips. You glance at the door. You touch his jacket and softly slip the phone from the pocket. You turn it over.
‘Movement initiated’. You scroll through several notifications. ‘Elevated heartbeat’, ‘at rest’, ‘within vicinity’... You stare at the screen. It can’t be. How would he have that? And why? Why on earth would Tony Stark, your boss, be tracking you?
You shove the phone back in his pocket. You go around the table and open your locker. You take out your phone. You flip past Bucky’s messages and go into the backend coding. You don’t see anything. Nothing that would suggest a tracker. It has to be there though.
It’s just too bad the only person could figure it out is the one who put it there.
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ah not tony going for bucky's gf, he just needs any couple to show the slighest of distance for him to try and steal the girl away
Tony probably sees it as not as bad as he should do considering what Bucky did to his parents...
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Not sure who would give us that pretty necklace, but it's not Tony for sure. His necklace would be filled with diamonds and have a tracker incrusted.
Where You Are, Is Where I Want To Be
I went off.... I was only going to do a drabble...
Warnings: this fic will include dark content stalking, power imbalance, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your work life starts to infringe on your personal time.
Characters: Tony Stark, reader is Bucky's gf.
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“Oh no,” you pull your hand away from your neck. You frown as you hold up the loose gem.
“What’s up?” Tony asks casually as he looks up above his glasses, a tablet in hand, lips downturned in concentration.
“My necklace,” you hold up the amethyst. “It broke...”
“Hmm,” he sets the tablet down and comes around counter between you. “Let me see.”
You stiffen as he approaches, not used to him being so close. He holds out his hand and you set the teardrop gem in his palms. He squints at it and pushes his glasses up his nose. His cheek dimples.
You flinch as he pinches the chain around your neck and lines up the gem.
“Claws are bent,” he brushes his thumb over the silver. “Easy fix.”
“Yeah?” You look down at his hand, your chin almost touching the knuckle of his thumb.
“Sure,” he says. “Leave it with me.”
“Oh... well...”
“It’s important?” He asks.
“Um...” you reach back and unclasp it, letting it slack in his grasp. “Bucky gave it to me.”
He nods and examines it thoughtfully. “I’ll get it back, good as new.”
You’re not entirely sure. It’s no secret your boss isn’t much of a fan of your boyfriend. It’s complicated, but the few times you offered to quit, neither of them entertained the thought.
“Alright, thanks. I could always take it to a jeweler.”
“Pshht, don’t waste the money,” he rescinds his reach as he looks at the chain. “It’s no problem.”
“Well, thanks. I appreciate that.”
“You know me. Always tinkering with something,” he walks back around the table and leans on the stool he formerly perched on. You watch him until his dark eyes flick up. “What?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head. “Just, you know, never know when you’re in a good mood.”
“I’m not,” he grumbles and lowers his gaze as he tucks the necklace in his chest pocket. He takes the tablet and exhales. “You can thank Stephen for that.”
💎
You drag your finger around the screen, turning the schematics as your brows nearly meet in the middle. Tony’s notes are never easy to decipher. He writes in a language all the own and expects you to understand what all those little exclamation marks mean.
“Dinner’s here,” Bucky interrupts you before you can hunch any further. You look up and sit straight, rubbing the muscles beside your neck.
“Thanks,” you say. “Sorry, I got... lost.”
“Yep,” he brings the paper bag over and sets it behind your laptop, propped open on the kitchen island. “We agreed about working in the kitchen.”
“Oh, yeah...” you cringe. “I... sorry. I meant to move to the office.”
“I get it. You don’t want me taking my arm apart in here,” he shrugs. “Fair enough.”
“No, no, we agreed.” You close your laptop. “Won’t happen again.”
He opens the paper bag and takes out the first container. Honey garlic wings dripping in sauce. You asked for a salad...
“Smells good,” you say, waiting for him to hand you your greens.
He unpacks. Another container of wings, those one buffalo, and a container of french fries. You hide your disappointment. Who are you to complain? He bought dinner while you whittled away your own time working on Tony’s mess.
“I’m gonna need a bib,” you snort as he hands you a plate.
“Why? I’ll lick up the mess,” he winks. You smirk and tilt your head. It has been a while.
You pluck one wing from each container and a handful of fries. You sense him watching you. You glance up.
“That’s it?” He asks.
“You have a bigger appetite,” you shrug. “Really, it’s a lot of grease.”
He rolls his eyes. “What’s this thing you’re on about salads?”
“Nothing. I just... I’m trying to be more conscious.”
“Uh huh,” he tuts. “You know, you don’t need to worry about that.”
“I’m not worried about... that. It’s not about my body.”
“Coulda fooled me. You won’t even take off your shirt when--” he stops himself. “I miss you.”
“I know, I miss you too,” you pick at a wing. “It’s not you. I’m stressed. That's all.”
“Tell me about it,” he mutters as he eats right out of the container. “Is stress why you’re not wearing your necklace?”
You flinch and touch your throat. You look at him.
“Tony.”
“What?” He narrows his eyes.
“Tony has it.”
“Tony has it?” He sneers.
“Fixing it. The gem fell out,” you say. “I almost forgot.”
“Huh. Well, I coulda fixed that.”
“I... he offered. I didn’t want to lose the stone,” you frown.
He chews. You peek up. You see the agitation in his cheek.
“We can... tonight. I’m sorry--”
“Don’t make it like I’m twisting your arm,” he growls. A glop of sauce lands on his white tee shirt. He huffs. “Shit.”
“I want to.” You insist. It’s not a lie. You’re just so tired.
💎
You rush into Tony’s office without knocking. You’ve only done that a few times. You grip your phone tight, heart racing. He looks up at you casually as he swivels in his chair.
“Hey,” he grimaces in surprise.
“I--” You stop sharply on your heels. “I-- You said there’s an emergency.”
He snickers and leans forward, rolling closer to his desk. “False alarm.” He reaches to his pen cup and hooks his finger under the silver chain hanging from one of the pens. “All fixed.”
Your necklace dangles from his finger. You heave and drag your feet forward. You put your phone in your pocket and take the chain. You bring it up to examine.
“You cleaned it?” You mutter.
“Sure did,” he sits back.
“Thanks, Tony,” you smile. “Oh, it’s so sparkly!”
You hold it up to the light. You hadn’t realised before how tarnished it was.
“Put it on,” he says.
“Oh, sure,” you fumble with the clasp and put apart the ends.
You reach behind your neck and try to hook it. The claps slips closed and you tut. Tony gets up and nears. You try not to wince away.
“Here,” he goes around you and takes the ends from you. He hooks it in place swiftly. “There ya go.”
He drags a finger across your skin before he lets go. You shiver but ignore the odd friction. You toy with the gem and smile.
“Thanks,” you breathe.
“No problem,” he sits down and grabs his phone as the screen lights up. “It’ll get the old man off my back.”
“Old man?”
“Oh yeah. The one-armed wonder called me a thief.” He scoffs. “Real friendly guy.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t-- I told him you were fixing it--”
“Yeah, well, good luck to you. He’s not the best at listening,” he shakes his head and slips his phone into his jacket. “Speaking of, I got a meeting with those two blockheads.” He stands and blows a raspberry. “Wish me luck.”
💎
“Come here often?” The familiar voice startles you and you nearly swing your racket at Tony as you face him.
You gape at him in surprise. “Just when I can. You?”
He smirks. “Someone told me I needed to get a hobby.”
“That was a joke,” you rub your neck.
“Well, those usually are born of truth,” he shrugs. “So, you got an opponent? How’s the old man’s back swing?”
You nod and cluck. “To be honest, I was packing up. He can’t make it. He was supposed to fill in for Nat. Everyone’s busy but me.”
“And me,” he winks. “You gotta promise to take it easy on me though.” He puts his bag on the bench next to yours. “I’m a rookie. More of a golfer.”
“Ah, well, I’m not very good. It’s just for fun.”
“Never.” He unzips his bag. “Everything’s a competition.”
💎
“Coffee’s on me.” Tony reaches past you to flip his card out between his fingers. “I’ll have an iced americano.”
You turn and suppress a gasp. Lately, you just can’t seem to escape your boss. You spend enough time with him in the lab, you feel like you’re starting to go crazy.
“Hey,” your voice wobbles.
“Was just on my way out of Manhattan,” he says. “Need a boost before I deal with James.”
“Bucky?”
“Rhodey,” he corrects you. “No, I’m afraid you’re stuck with that one.”
You nod and subtly check your watch. You have a message from the very man. Somehow, you already know he’s bailing.
“Sure,” you drop your wrist and catch him checking his own phone. “Don’t let me keep you.”
He taps his card as the barista slides over the iced drinks. You take your cold brew and he takes his espresso. You raise the cup. “Thanks.”
“Oh, I’m just a nice guy,” he winks. “Anyway, I gotta scram. You know how soldiers can be about time.”
He salutes with his card and spins on his heel. He struts off. You peer around and go hide at a table in the corner. You sit and stare at your drink.
The days are growing eerie. You see less of Bucky, more of Tony. You’re not sure if you’re paranoid, insecure, or bored. It’s just tweaking something in your mind.
💎
Tony slides his phone into his jacket. It’s an oddly familiar sight. Almost every time you see him, he’s doing it.
That’s not that unusual. Most people are glued to one screen or another. But Tony only ever really played with his tablet or his gadgets in the lab. It’s the one thing that reminds you of Bucky. They love tech but they’re not so keen on the modern dependency on it.
He yawns and points. You follow the gesture to a tray of coffee. It’s the same cafe you saw him in a few times in the last week. You never really ran into him there before but the coffee is good enough that you can’t blame him for the habit.
“For me?” You ask.
“Hidden gem, isn’t it?”
“It was.” You kid as you take the cold brew labeled with your name.
“Gonna need that caffeine hit,” he drags a stool up. “We gotta get the prototype done today. I got the army breathing down my neck and now the navy’s in on it.”
“Sure,” you sip. It’s exactly how you like. No sugar with a squirt of the cinnamon roll syrup. How did he know?
“I got faith in you,” he says. “Myself, however... that’s always a question mark.”
He takes off his jacket and lays it on the table near the empty cardboard tray. He swipes up and a floating holographic screen appears. You tuck your bag into a locker behind you and turn back.
You put on your protective glasses and gloves. Tony tends to ignore any sort of precautions. He taps his fingers in the air as the middle of the table opens and the prototype rises out from within. The glowing blue tubes and steel are emblazoned into your vision.
“I think you should finish off the circuitry,” you lean in as you settle on your stool. “I’ve been fighting it for days.”
Your wrist vibrates. He spins the prototype as you peel back your glove to check the screen. It’s Bucky. ‘We need to talk’. You hate that sentence.
You flick your wrist and the screen goes black. You let your glove cover it and refocus. Or try to. Tony’s staring at you.
“You good?”
“Yep. It can wait,” you assure him.
“Right.” He opens up the panel and you shake your head. “Why don’t you test the connectors and I’ll figure out the motherboard.”
You go to work. The silence is that forged of ritual. You’ve done this so many times that words aren’t needed.
As your neck starts to ache, signalling the passage of time, you sit up and rub it. Tony grunts and his cheek pinches. His lip curls as he lets out a gutteral growl.
“Bit of advice, don’t get old,” he reaches for what’s left of his melted iced drink. He eyes it in disappointment. “Time never makes things better, does it?”
You give a tight-lipped smile. You’re too dazed to answer. You rest your elbows on the tablet and rub your temple.
“Let me go hunt down an intern to get us more,” he stands. There’s a definitive crack. He chuckles. “Yep, that’s the knee.”
He turns and limps away, stopping at the door to bend and extend his leg. You cradle your head and bring your wrist up. The message flashes again. ‘We need to talk.’
You stand up and something vibrates. You turn around. It didn’t sound like it was in the locker. You ignore it and pace around. You hear it again.
You make a few circles and a flash of light catches your eye. You stare at Tony’s jacket as his phone dims in the pocket. You go up to table and it buzzes consistently.
You shouldn’t.
You back up. It softens. You get closer, it gets more intense.
Your stomach flips. You glance at the door. You touch his jacket and softly slip the phone from the pocket. You turn it over.
‘Movement initiated’. You scroll through several notifications. ‘Elevated heartbeat’, ‘at rest’, ‘within vicinity’... You stare at the screen. It can’t be. How would he have that? And why? Why on earth would Tony Stark, your boss, be tracking you?
You shove the phone back in his pocket. You go around the table and open your locker. You take out your phone. You flip past Bucky’s messages and go into the backend coding. You don’t see anything. Nothing that would suggest a tracker. It has to be there though.
It’s just too bad the only person could figure it out is the one who put it there.
#tony stark#bucky barnes#dark!tony stark#dark tony stark#tony stark x reader#bucky barnes x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#avengers#iron man#winter soldier#captain america#mcu#marvel
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Mom is surely I liability ... I can see us getting into big trouble here.
I always chuckle

This is how my husband takes pictures and they're always blurry
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