Jul 10, 2025
Day 5 [7/10]: Learning About Their Area of Expertise | Touch Starved
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Day 5 [7/10]: Learning About Their Area of Expertise | Touch Starved
@ironstrangehaven <3
IronStrange Week 2025
Sup y’all !!! It’s that time of the year again! That time where we do the announcing stuff for IronStrange Week. This year IronStrange Week will be from July 6 to July 12, 2025.
Another eventful week, just for two sarcastic people intent on lovingly snarking at each other! This year the prompts are all over the place from fluff to hurt to any way you interpret them. We hope you take those prompts and interpret them any way you want. You can go SFW or NSFW it is up to you. (Just tag your work appropriately) If you aren't able to create a piece of fanwork every day of the week, that's okay! You can create any number of fanwork that you can.
{Prompts}
We have provided two prompts per day (separated by |) and you can choose one or the other or even both prompts. We will leave the artistic interpretations of the prompts up to you!
Day 1 [7/6]: Chronic Pain | Time Loop
Day 2 [7/7]: Hate at First Sight (and then Love) | Death
Day 3 [7/8]: Nobility | Crime
Day 4 [7/9]: Parenting | Courting
Day 5 [7/10]: Learning About Their Area of Expertise | Touch Starved
Day 6 [7/11]: What Could Have Been | Witty
Day 7 [7/12]: Meeting Their Multiverse Selves | Pick Your Own Prompt
{Rules}
All forms of fanwork are accepted, including but not limited to digital art, traditional art, fanfiction, poetry/prose, Photoshop, videos/gifs/related multimedia, cosplay, edits, music playlists, etc.
To be added to the blog and featured on the IronStrange Discord server, please (1) tag #ironstrangeweek2025 in one of the first five tags of the post and (2) add @ironstrangehhaven or @ironstrangeh on Twitter in your description so we can find you!
Any NSFW content must be tagged appropriately and under a “Read More” link ( for those on Twitter, the tweet should list any warnings or any other appropriate information), or it will not be featured on the blog/discord server.
Please submit fanworks to the IronStrange Week Archive of our Own Collection if possible. (The link to the collection will be shared in the next post as we get closer to the event.)
Mind your tags, and tag gore, violence, and other significant tags.
Our Tumblr (@ us or reply to the post on twitter) ask box is open, so don't hesitate to contact us if you have any questions!
IF YOU DON'T HAVE TIME DURING IRONSTRANGE WEEK, YOU CAN STILL POST YOUR WORK AFTER THE WEEK. JUST MENTION US OR USE THE TAG #IRONSTRANGEWEEK2025 SO WE CAN FIND YOUR WORK.
Hidden Pain
IronStrange Week - Day 1
Summary: You never know someone's pain until you walk in their shoes. Unfortunately, due to a magic mishap, Tony and Stephen take that saying quite literally.
Tags: Chronic Pain, Body Swap, Hurt/Comfort, established friendship, bonding over shared trauma, Tony Stark needs a hug, Stephen Strange needs a hug, whump Tony, whump Stephen
Author's note: It's the first day of IRONSTRANGE WEEK over at @ironstrangehaven. The prompt: Chronic Pain. Beta by @kvjjjjjj <3
Ko-fi | Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Word count: 5.5k
Hidden Pain
Tony groaned as he regained consciousness. The attack had hit him pretty hard, shooting him right out of the air. Sounds of fighting still echoed around him, so he couldn't have been out for long. The chaos of battle echoed in the distance, punctuated by the crackle of energy and the thud of impacts.
“What's the status, Jarvis?” he called out, his voice hoarse and strained, but he was met with an unsettling silence.
Worried, he sat up and finally opened his eyes, immediately fighting a wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. Everything was a bit blurry – he had probably hit his head, and his hands hurt as well; like a lot. But a lot more concerning was the fact that he wasn't wearing his armor anymore. The absence of the familiar weight and protection sent a jolt of panic through him, making his heart race.
Panic flared up, making him choke for a second. “Jarvis? Anyone?” he shouted, desperation creeping into his voice.
“Tony!”
The voice was familiar, but Tony couldn't place it.
Someone was approaching him fast, the steps a heavy thud, thud, almost as if... Tony turned and knew he must have hit his head way harder than he thought. Because he saw the Iron Man armor approaching. The faceplate was open and he was staring at his own face.
“Tony,” the other him said, and Tony realized that he was hearing his own voice.
“Shit, I must have a concussion,” he mumbled, and at the same time he thought that his actual voice sounded strange, echoing with an unfamiliar timbre that made him question his own identity.
The armor's hand grabbed Tony's shoulder a little too tight, causing him to wince. His hands still hurt. Why did they hurt so much?
“Tony, it's me, Stephen. We were hit by a spell and swapped bodies.” The urgency in the other Tony's voice was palpable, and it cut through the haze of confusion that enveloped him.
Tony stared at his face, one that looked out of breath and irritated. Then his eyes wandered down to the body he was actually in: blue robes, a speck of red, and shaking hands that lay useless in his lap.
The panic was back in full swing.
“I think I have to throw up.”
__________
Since the fight in the city was under control, it gave Stephen and Tony the opportunity to leave. Stephen – in Tony's body – stepped out of the armor, and took the slingring from the body that looked like his own but was currently inhabited by Tony.
Stephen's fingers trembled slightly for a different reason than usual when he clasped the ring, feeling the familiar texture of the metal under his fingertips. Opening a portal with the sling ring was an act he’d done many times before, still relief flooded over him when – thankfully – the glowing portal shimmered into existence, creating a stable, glowing gateway to the Sanctum. The ease of opening the portal was a big reassurance.
Seeing himself using magic caused Tony a headache, and he stopped thinking too hard about that. Instead, he sent the armor – operated by Jarvis now – home and stepped through the glowing ring, following Stephen as he moved swiftly down the hallways of the Sanctum.
"Wong!" Stephen called out loudly as he strode down the corridor, his voice echoing with an edge of urgency. His tone was sharp enough that Wong, who was nearby, quickly appeared at the top of the staircase, surprised to see him so suddenly. Wong’s expression shifted from confusion to concern as he looked at the figure that seemed to be Tony – or what looked like Tony’s body.
“Stark?” Wong's eyes flicked from the younger sorcerer’s body to Stephen’s face, sensing that something was off. “What happened?”
Because something must have happened, even though both of them looked fine, apart from a few minor scratches.
“We got hit with a spell and now we are both in the wrong body,” Stephen explained.
Wong frowned, inspecting them a little bit closer. Tony wondered what he saw; if there were little tells that gave them away, like mismatching gestures, awkward posture, wrong facial expressions...
“Why is it when something bad happens, it's always you two?” Wong finally asked, not really surprised.
“Believe me, I've been asking myself the same question,” Tony replied, his voice tinged with exasperation. It was no secret that trouble had a way of finding him, and ever since he’d discovered the wizards, the chaos had only intensified. Together with the weirdness of magic and the unpredictability of their lives - this was bound to happen eventually. “Now can we speed this up and reverse this?” he urged.
“You know well enough that this isn't that eas-” Wong started but Tony's voice – carrying Stephen's thoughts – interrupted him.
“Wong, that's Tony.”
Wong's eyes flitted between the two of them, because – right – wrong bodies. “This is going to be annoying,” he muttered.
“I know what?” Stephen's voice asked loudly, demanding an answer.
“We need to find out what kind of spell hit us,” actual-Stephen replied, his voice calm and composed. He knew Tony was still skittish around magic. “Wong is going to scan us, and then we are going to go from there.”
Tony sighed. That sounded reasonable. “Okay.”
They moved to the library, and Tony slumped into an armchair. As he buried his head in his hands, a sudden wave of hot pain shot up from his fingers to his wrists, and he couldn’t contain a cry of agony that escaped his lips. Cradling his hands to his chest, he blinked back tears, the pain sharp and relentless.
“Tony?” Stephen rushed to his side, his brow knitted with concern as he assessed the situation. “What’s going on?”
“They hurt,” Tony managed to grit out, his voice strained. “They hurt so much.” It felt like every nerve ending was on fire.
“I know,” Stephen sighed, feeling a swell of sympathy. He grabbed a pillow and placed it gently on Tony's lap, hoping to provide some relief. He reached out cautiously, but Tony winced, instinctively jerking back from the touch. Stephen paused, respecting the boundary, but his resolve to help his friend only grew stronger.
“Tony, please,” he said softly, a note of urgency creeping into his voice. “Trust me.”
After what felt like an eternity of hesitation, Tony finally relented, placing his scarred hands into Stephen's, who carefully maneuvered Tony's hands onto the pillow, positioning them so that there was no additional pressure.
“I’'ll be right back,” Stephen announced, his tone reassuring.
Tony leaned back, exhaling. The pain was still throbbing in his wrists and the little part of his brain that could think through the pain wondered if this was a constant in Stephen's life.
“I'm going to run a diagnostic spell on you now,” Wong informed him.
Tony simply nodded. He appreciated the warning but still closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the magic hit him. He felt it anyway; it was as if the energy coursed through him, wrapping around him like a warm blanket, but surprisingly, not eliciting a sense of discomfort. Maybe Stephen's body was more attuned to it.
Stephen was back quickly, putting a heat pack on Tony's pillow. The familiar scent of herbs wafted from it, grounding him momentarily in the present. Tony touched it with his fingers on a trial basis, gauging the warmth radiating from it. It wasn't too hot, but just the right temperature, soothing against the coolness of the room. He placed the back of his hands on it and sighed as the edge was taken off, the heat seeping into his skin and loosening the tension that had coiled in his muscles.
“You okay?” Stephen asked him.
“Yeah, it's just...”
“A lot?” Stephen offered helpfully when Tony didn't find the right words.
“Yeah.”
Sympathetically, Stephen squeezed his shoulders, grounding him further in the moment, and then turned his attention back to Wong to get scanned as well.
The sorcerers talked back and forth for a while, their voices weaving a tapestry of arcane terminology that Tony found difficult to follow. He had closed his eyes again, trying to get attuned to this body that felt disconcertingly foreign.
He only noticed the conversation had stopped when Stephen stepped back to his side, breaking the spell of concentration that had enveloped him. Tony opened one eye and looked up at his own face, his features mirroring a mix of concern and determination.
“The good news is- it looks like we can fix this with a ritual that is neither dangerous nor complex.”
“That kind of sentence is often followed by 'bad news, '” Tony mused.
Stephen tilted his head. “It might take a few days to collect the necessary components for the spell. Plus, I'm going to re-check a few books. I am not taking any chances with this. Any small error could cause the ritual to fail or, worse, lead to unintended consequences.”
Tony chose to ignore that last part for his own peace of mind. “A few days?” he asked instead. He knew that Stephen sometimes had a different sense of time.
“A week tops,” the sorcerer clarified.
That was way longer than Tony felt comfortable staying in a body that wasn’t his own right now. Yet he swallowed that thought. Stephen would do his best to resolve this as fast as possible.
“I can do a few days,” he said instead. “Do you... ah, need me for any step of this process? I mean your body.”
Stephen shook his head. “I can still access magic, even though it feels a little bit clouded. We are good on that front. But we need to install a few security measures. I prefer to keep this incident quiet. There are... beings out there who would jump at an opportunity like this. I don't want to expose you to this danger, and frankly, neither myself.”
“Same,” Tony agreed and Stephen looked relieved. “The press would have a feast with this story. We don't need that. I need to tell Pepper though. And probably Happy and Rhodey.”
“That's a given.” Stephen looked at Wong. “I would prefer if you took over my classes in Kamar-Taj while I am dealing with this.”
Wong rolled his eyes. “Of course you would prefer that.” The gesture hinted that Stephen might have even been hoping for a break from teaching in the long run. Still, Wong didn't object.
“I hope you don't mind me seeing you naked,” Tony spoke up again, changing the topic. “Because I'm in dire need of a shower.”
Stephen sputtered, clearly taken by surprise. And would you look at that: Tony's face wore a blush beautifully. Good to know.
___________
It was weird to operate a different body. It felt like wearing a shirt that didn't quite fit. Tony's arms and legs were now longer than he was used to, and he constantly hit his elbows and knees on counters, doors, tables... the list was long.
The thing that bothered him most was that the reassuring weight of his arc reactor was missing. Even though it was easier to breathe; that didn't help him when he was hyperventilating during a panic attack.
He had a minor one when he realized that none of his armors fitted him anymore. They were adjustable to a certain degree and Stephen's body was just outside of that range.
After he had calmed down, he immediately started to work on an armor for the wizard.
___________
Pepper recommended putting most of his meetings on hold for now until the body-swap problem was sorted out. And while Tony usually jumped at any opportunity to avoid this part of his job, this time he declined. If he withdrew from the public eye completely and canceled all his appointments, the press would take notice and investigate. Instead, he joined via phone conference, and Jarvis helped him modulatet Stephen's voice into one that resembled Tony's. Tony had the tech in his hands, so why not use it?
It must be worse for Stephen, Tony figured. There were less opportunities for wizards to work remotely from home. Wong had gone off-world to collect whatever it was that they needed for the ritual. Stephen had told him sheepishly that he could do it faster himself, but he didn't want to endanger Tony's body. And while Tony trusted Stephen's skills, he appreciated that.
That left Stephen stuck at the Sanctum, doing research. He comes to see Tony once a day. Maybe because he is already bored. Maybe he wants to keep a close eye on his body. Who knows...
Tony was glad for the distraction anyway. He was right-out relieved glad that Jarvis was voice-controlled, as even typing on a holo-keyboard was painful after a short time. This also means that building a new armor was taking frustratingly longer than usual.
Tony turned his head when he heard the, by now, familiar noise of a portal forming, and watched himself – his body – stepping through it with casual effortlessness.
Stephen plumps down in what had become his usual seat.
“When was the last time you saw a doctor?”
The question alarmed Tony. “Why?” he replied, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. Was there something wrong with his body that Jarvis' monitoring hadn't caught?
“Besides how alarmingly difficult it is to breathe, I think there is something wrong with your shoulder.” Stephen rolled his left arm and Tony relaxed.
“Yeah, once I was hit by a tank shell and crash landed on my left shoulder. And later, I was attacked by a whiplash that set that arm on fire. After that I kinda gave up and accepted that it's fucked up permanently.”
Stephen frowned, his expression shifting to one of disapproval. He clearly had an opinion on that; an opinion he deemed superior to Tony's because he backed it up with being a doctor. But Tony wasn't in the mood for arguing; he had grown weary of the endless debates about his health and well-being. Instead, he deftly changed the topic, seeking a distraction from the uncomfortable conversation.
“Have you noticed that things tasted different? I suddenly like red beet.”
“Red beet is good for you. It contains high levels of vitamins A, K, C and E, which contribute to good bone health.”
“It's mediocre at best. But apparently in your body, it isn't half as bad.”
“Huh.” Stephen thought about the possibilities of that implication. “I did notice some differences. But then again, everything feels different in this body.”
Tony hummed in agreement.
___________
Tony woke up in a sweat from a nightmare. He had trouble breathing, and his hand automatically wandered to his chest – only to find his arc reactor missing. The panic flared, a familiar sensation that clawed at the edges of his mind.
“Sir, you are currently in your penthouse in New York. It is 5:37 in the morning. The sun will rise in approximately twenty-eight minutes. You are still in the body of Doctor Stephen Strange.”
Right. Wrong body. That was the reason there was no arc reactor. Stephen didn't need it.
Repeating this mantra in his head over and over again, he eventually got his breathing under control. His hands still hurt – that was a constant so far. Even more so because he had clutched the blanket too tightly in his sleep. He stretched and relaxed them in an attempt to soothe the ache, willing the tension to dissipate.
After a while, he turned and put his feet on the floor, the coolness of the hardwood grounding him further in reality. The penthouse was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city waking up outside.
“Start the coffee machine, J.” There was no way he was going back to sleep. Might as well get up and get some work done.
“Already done, Sir.”
___________
By day five, Tony was sure he was going insane. He had barely slept since that last nightmare. He tried to distract his mind by tinkering, a familiar refuge that had always provided solace in times of distress. But these hands – unfamiliar, uncooperative hands – would barely let him hold a screwdriver, let alone create anything of value.
How was Stephen able to live like this?
Tony was used to chronic pain, to the constant ache in his chest and the never-leaving metallic taste at the back of his throat. But this... this was so much worse. The discomfort radiated through his fingers, a sharp reminder of his current predicament. He was trapped in a body that was not his own, one that betrayed him at every turn.
With a sigh, he dropped the screwdriver, the metallic clink echoing in the otherwise quiet workshop. He unclenched his trembling fingers, which felt as if they were made of lead. He had discarded the armor for Stephen and started a project on medical braces for his hands, hoping to find a way to alleviate the pain. But this was useless. The frustration bubbled up inside him, a storm of emotions that threatened to spill over.
Annoyed, he picked up his coffee – now most likely cold, but he didn’t care. The warmth of the cup had long since faded, much like his patience. Just as he took a sip, a cramp hit him, sharp and sudden, causing him to drop the cup. It shattered on the floor, spilling liquid everywhere.
Tony let out a long and very frustrated noise from deep in his chest, a sound that was part growl, part plea. He couldn't do this anymore. How much longer did he have to bear this body? It just felt wrong. Everything felt wrong.
DUM-E came over, beeping a question before he turned to get a rug.
“Sir?” Jarvis asked, no less concerned. He had accepted that Tony looked different for the time being and had different vitals showing up on his feed. But the behavior pattern was similar enough to what Jarvis was used to. This, however, was new territory, and Jarvis wasn’t sure how he could help.
“Call Stephen,” Tony said, his voice strained. He needed to talk to him, possibly begging him to undo this as soon as possible. Or maybe simply put Tony into a coma until they had the ritual ready. The idea was both desperate and oddly appealing, a way to escape the torment of his current reality.
Then Tony remembered that it was the middle of the night.
“Wait, what time is-”
“Tony?” Stephen's concerned voice sounded over the speaker. Probably due to the time Tony was calling. And tired, as if the call had forcefully pulled him from his sleep.
Tony bit his lip, but ultimately didn't hold back the words. “Does the pain ever stop?” He hated the desperation clinging to his voice. But he was too exhausted to mask it.
The next thing Tony knew, a portal opened in his lab and Stephen stepped through. The sleeves of his Columbia sweater were a bit long on Tony's body, but he filled out the shoulders nicely. The cloak clung to him and seemed to have adjusted its length, as it still ended just above the ground.
Stephen took in the disheveled state Tony was in, the broken mug on the floor, and DUM-E, who returned at that moment and threw what looked like a discarded T-shirt onto the puddle on the floor.
The sorcerer's eyes softened, a flicker of empathy shining through the concern etched on his face. “Come.”
Yet, he did not answer Tony's question, and in that silence, Tony understood the unspoken truth—it was a resounding no.
With gentle insistence, Stephen guided Tony to the couch in the Sanctum's living room, draping the cloak around his shoulders as if to shield him from the world’s harshness. The warmth of the fabric enveloped him, while Stephen briefly left.
When Stephen returned, he carried with him a heat pack, a small jar of salve, and a cup of tea adorned with a tiny straw. With a practiced routine, he took care of Tony's - his own – hands.
“I'm sorry you have to go through this,” Stephen murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he didn't want to disrupt the eerie silence that came with nighttime. “You shouldn't have to endure this.”
“Neither should you,” Tony murmured, mirroring the somber tone that hung in the air. The cloak squeezed his shoulders in sympathy.
“I'm used to it.”
“You shouldn't be,” Tony insisted, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone.
Stephen fell silent. Some things were simply the way they were, and no amount of magic or willpower could change that. Stephen had tried. By god, he had.
The salve was soothing against Tony's skin, a balm for both his physical and emotional state. Using a straw for his tea felt oddly humiliating, yet he was grateful for the small mercy of not having to lift a cup to his lips. The thought of being fed by Stephen was one he quickly dismissed; he wanted to maintain some semblance of independence, even in this vulnerable state.
But the frustration and exhaustion of the past few days bubbled up within him, threatening to overflow. “How can you bear it?” he asked, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “I can't work, I can't think. I'm stuck with all these ideas in my head, but no way to get them out. I can't even pick up a mug and drink coffee.” Tony couldn't help the tears sliding down his cheek, yet they felt like a release.“This is a nightmare.”
In response, Stephen cupped Tony's face gently, his own expression a mirror of pain and empathy. He knew all too well the agony Tony was in, and the knowledge that he was the cause of the engineer's suffering only deepened his remorse. “I'm so sorry, Tony,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against Tony's in a gesture of solidarity and understanding.
He wasn't usually someone to reach out like this. Stephen kept his emotions closely guarded. But he knew the pain on a personal level. And seeing himself – his body – crumble like this from an outside perspective, made him want to comfort Tony.
“We are... I'm doing everything to reverse it.”
“I know,” Tony replied, his heart heavy with the weight of the knowledge that the path to freeing himself from this pain came at the cost of Stephen experiencing it. The thought gnawed at him.
With a deep breath, Tony rooted himself into the contact of his company. He could bear this a little longer. For Stephen. He didn't need to worry the sorcerer while he was working on the solution. He had enough on his plate already.
“Does magic help?” he heard himself ask.
“Not with the pain, but it makes tasks easier,” Stephen replied. “There are a few painkillers that ease the discomfort, but I don't want to take them too often.”
He left unsaid why he felt that way, the reasons hanging heavy in the air between them. Tony understood though; he was all too familiar with the dark shadows that addiction cast over a person’s life. He had faced those demons himself, clawing his way back; he was determined not to slip back into that abyss.
A moment of silence settled in as Stephen seemed to contemplate his thoughts. Being reminded of something, he paused, his brow furrowing slightly. “Did you take something?” he asked, concern etching his features.
Tony shook his head firmly. “No,” he replied, his voice low but resolute.
Stephen would not have held it against him if he had sought solace in a pill or two; he understood the struggle far too well. Nevertheless, Tony observed the flicker of relief that danced in Stephen's eyes. The sorcerer clearly tried to hide it, but Tony knew his own face like the back of his hand, and thus he saw it anyway.
There was no impulse to pull away. Comforted by the familiarity of their own bodies in front of them, it felt natural to stay close to each other.
“Can I... stay?” Tony suddenly asked, the words tumbling out with a hint of desperation. He didn’t want to be alone, to retreat to the confines of his lab where the silence would echo all too loudly.
“Of course,” Stephen reassured him quickly, his voice warm and inviting. “Do you wanna watch something?”
Tony shrugged, his indifference masking the whirlwind of emotions beneath the surface. He didn’t particularly care about what was on, as long as he wasn’t alone. Stephen turned on the TV anyway, and soon they watched some reruns of old shows.
They settled in, huddled together under the Cloak of Levitation as their makeshift blanket. The fabric, imbued with magic, felt both warm and protective, shielding them from the harsh realities outside.
___________
Tony only noticed he had fallen asleep when he woke up. His shoulders were stiff, and his hands still ached, but he felt a bit better. Stephen was still fast asleep next to him, leaning against his shoulders, causing Tony to smile. The warmth radiating from Stephen was comforting, a stark contrast to the frigid air that had seeped into the room during the night. The faint morning light filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the floor, and for a moment, Tony allowed himself to relish in the peacefulness of the scene.
Then he noticed a movement and froze for a second.
Wong was standing in the doorway, watching them. His expression was unreadable, but it was clear he had been observing the two of them for a while.
When he got Tony's attention, he told him, “We gathered all components for the ritual.”
Tony was wide awake in a flash. “We can reverse this?”
Wong nodded. “The masters assisting will be here shortly.”
He left as Tony turned back to Stephen to gently shake him until he stirred.
“Hm?” Stephen mumbled, his voice thick with sleep, as he blinked against the light.
“Wake up. Wong said we have everything for the ritual.”
“Great. Let’s go.” Not fully awake but still ready to function, Stephen tried to get up but got stuck in their blanket and fell ungracefully off the couch. Tony caught him just in time before he hit the floor, steadying him with a firm grip.
“Maybe we should get some coffee first,” he mused.
Stephen rubbed his eyes, clearly not ready to engage with the world just yet. “Coffee sounds like a plan,” he agreed, his voice still laced with remnants of sleep.
___________
An hour later, they met with Wong and two other sorcerers in a mostly barren room. Wong would be the one casting the spell, and apparently they needed one additional sorcerer for each soul, just in case.
Tony didn't ask what those cases looked like. If everything went according to plan, he would never need to know.
Tony and Stephen sat facing each other on the floor in the middle of the room, their knees brushing. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows that played across their faces, highlighting the tension etched into their features.
“Close your eyes,” Wong instructed them, his voice steady, and Tony did.
He listened intently as Wong began to recite the incantation, his words flowing like a river of ancient magic - an arcane chant in a language that meant nothing to Tony, yet resonated deep within his soul. Each syllable vibrated through the air, wrapping around them like a warm embrace, but beneath that warmth, there was an underlying chill that set Tony’s nerves on edge.
Suddenly, he felt a pull from within his body, a force that was both foreign and familiar, and then everything around him began to spin uncontrollably. Nausea hit him like a sledgehammer, crashing over him with an intensity much worse than the first time. For a fleeting moment, he thought he had blacked out.
A short yelp escaped his lips, and he fell sideways onto his arms, the coolness of the wooden floor grounding him amid the chaos. As he lay there, he noticed that – perhaps for the first time in days – his hands didn’t hurt. The familiar ache that had plagued him was absent, replaced instead by a constant pressure in his chest that made each breath feel like a monumental task. He had forgotten how much effort it took for his own body to take a deep breath, as if the very act of inhaling was a luxury he had long since taken for granted.
Tentatively, Tony opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was Stephen still grappling with the effects of the body swap, his face a mask of concentration and discomfort.
Wong watched both of them intensely, his keen eyes assessing the subtle shifts in their expressions and body language.
“It worked,” Tony informed him, the relief evident in his voice. Finally, his voice sounded familiar again, even as he felt the words taste metallic in the back of his throat, a reminder of his own past battles.
“Naturally,” Wong said confidently, yet he seemed relieved as well. He dismissed the two other masters who left the room, while Tony turned his head back to Stephen who still hadn't moved besides cradling his hands to his chest.
“You okay?” he asked quietly, only for him to hear.
Stephen made a noise, a half-hearted agreement that was laced with pain. “Need a minute,” he added, his voice strained, as if the act of speaking itself was a monumental effort.
And Tony understood. He squeezed the wizard's shoulder and let his hand linger there, a gesture of solidarity and comfort.
Wong, knowing Stephen all too well, noticed there was some kind of issue. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing,” Stephen muttered. “I'm back in my own body.”
Wong was unconvinced. “Stephen, if you experience any kind-” he started, his tone shifting to one of urgency, but Tony interjected before he could finish.
“He just needs a minute to adjust. Going from zero to a hundred on the pain scale is a lot.”
Wong closed his mouth, the concern etched on his face softening as he understood the gravity of their situation but remained no less concerned for the sorcerer’s well-being.
“I got this handled,” Tony added in what he hoped was a reassuring tone.
Finally, Wong nodded, accepting there was nothing he could do at the moment except give them space. “Come see me later,” he told Stephen before he left as well.
As the door clicked shut softly behind Wong, Tony pulled Stephen close, wrapping his arms around his torso, careful not to touch his hands or wrists. “Breathe with me.”
They were still sitting on the floor, but neither cared. Slowly, Stephen relaxed. He let out a hollow laugh, a sound that echoed in the silence of the room, tinged with a mixture of relief and lingering pain.
“Does it make me a bad friend that I enjoyed the break?” he asked bitterly, his voice almost cracking under the weight of his words.
Tony was quick to reassure him. “No.” His tone was firm.
Stephen sighed. “I should be used to it by now. I should-”
“Nobody should have to endure this. Including you,” Tony reminded him.
Stephen took a deep breath and sat up straighter. Tony's arm fell from his body but stayed close, a silent promise of support, and Stephen was thankful for that.
His eyes were wet, some of the tears probably smeared into Tony's shirt. Ashamed, Stephen didn't meet his eyes, afraid of what he would see reflected back at him.
Before he could open his mouth and start apologizing again, Tony asked “How does a heatpack and a few more episodes of Friends sound?”
Stephen hesitated, the internal struggle evident in the furrow of his brow. It would be easy to refuse, to retreat into his shell, to withdraw, to close up like a clam, and to suffer in silence. The familiar urge to isolate himself clawed at him, whispering that he should just endure this alone, as he had done so many times before.
But if anyone knew how he felt, it was Tony. Tony understood, even if he had learned it involuntarily.
“That sounds good,” Stephen finally said, the words escaping him like a breath he had been holding for far too long.
IronStrange Week 2025 Day 4 - Parenting | Courting
Title: If you wanna go, then I’ll be so lonely (if you’re leaving, baby, let me down slowly)
song: Let Me Down Slowly by Alec Benjamin
~
Tony keeps trying (and failing) to ask his boyfriend to marry him. Stephen thinks that Tony is cheating on him and trying to break up with him. Chaos ensues, but at least Stephen's family manages to help Tony set things right.
~
3,347 w. | under cut for length
Stephen finished his pasta carbonara and nervously wiped his mouth with his napkin. Tony briefly met his gaze from across the table, then looked away just as quickly and took a long gulp of his wine.
“Stephen, I–” Tony started, still not fully meeting his gaze. Stephen set his napkin down. Tony stuttered, “I… you look… Handsome tonight,” he settled on. Stephen blinked.
“Thank you?” Stephen’s brow furrowed. Tony had been acting nervous the entire night, shifting restlessly at the art gala he had surprised Stephen with, his hands clammy when he led Stephen into a very fancy restaurant an hour prior.
“Of course.”
“Was that all you wanted to tell me?” Stephen asked.
Tony tensed up, then nodded defeatedly. “Yeah, I just wanted to let you know how gorgeous you are. I love you,”
‘I... love you, too,” Stephen said slowly, measuring his words. Tony seemed to relax some before Stephen suggested dessert, if only to get away from whatever was going on with his boyfriend. Tony grinned, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
Later that night, with Tony curled up in Stephen’s arms for once, Stephen couldn’t help but think.
A skittish Tony, a smile that seemed a little too fake, a fancy restaurant out of their usual date nights consisting of cheap takeout and movies huddled under a shared blanket or sharing a homemade lunch at a park and talking about anything and everything while Peter played with friends he met there but would forget within a day after convincing Tony to collect the other parents’ contact information.
A lot of their dates consisted of days out with Peter. Stephen didn’t mind at all, he even enjoyed being a part of Peter’s life while he could.
While he could.
Stephen blinked in the darkness of his and Tony’s room. Well, Tony’s room, but Stephen stayed over more nights than not. He even had his own bathrobe in Tony’s closet. His hand froze in its gentle threading through Tony’s hair.
Was Tony trying to break up with him?
Tony muttered something in his sleep, smacking his lips and snuggling closer to Stephen’s bare chest. Stephen felt his heart skip a beat, half from love and half from fear.
Tony couldn’t break up with him. Why would he be here, half sprawled across Stephen in their bed if he was dumping him? Wouldn’t Stephen have noticed the signs? Withdrawals?
And yet it made perfect sense. Tony’s behavior at dinner, how he had simply felt off the past week. Meetings on their shared calendar that made no sense, how Tony was vague about them. The way that he smiled at Stephen like he was his whole world, then lay awake at night staring at his phone, hiding his screens from Stephen when he looked.
Classic signs of cheating. Just like everyone he had dated before Christine.
Stephen let out a long breath. He pulled Tony closer.
If Tony was cheating and planning on breaking things off with Stephen, then Stephen would take as much time as he could to relish his life as a part of Tony's family while he still could.
~~~
Three days later, Stephen had never been so stressed in his life. Even during his residency, he felt secure in his position. It wasn’t like now. Now, he was convinced that the other shoe would drop at any moment, that Tony would break the entire relationship off, take Peter away, take everything that Stephen loved away , and leave him in the dust.
Stephen was constantly on edge. Every moment spent with Peter felt like his last. Every brush of limbs in their bed, every soft morning smile, every time their eyes met, felt like a lifeline.
It was torture.
Eventually, Stephen found himself turning to online spaces for answers after Wong decided to be frustratingly vague with his half-hearted relationship advice.
One site talked about the signs of cheating. Another advised to start keeping records of everything going on to start building credibility in a divorce court. An internet rabbit hole led Stephen to a shady website that anonymously hosted people who had killed their spouses for a… variety of reasons and were sharing tips on how to do it without getting caught.
Stephen had immediately backed out of that one. He had taken an oath when he became a doctor, and he would live by it. He also genuinely loved Tony, and no matter what was going on with his boyfriend, surely it wasn’t enough to kill him over it.
Then, a few weeks later, Tony took Stephen out for lunch. In a secluded area of Central Park, for a very romantic picnic complete with home made sandwiches, chilled wine, and even a charcuterie board with crackers.
Despite how gorgeous and lovely everything was, Stephen couldn’t help but feel the weight of anticipation drop in his stomach. He barely touched anything, only half responding to Tony’s sudden affections.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Stephen remembered some far off detail from his research. Love bombing. Was Tony being overly affectionate in order to... Trick Stephen? To keep him in a relationship? Love bombing typically happened in the beginning of a relationship as a manipulation tactic, but what was stopping Tony from using it at the end of a relationship?
“Stephen Vincent Strange,” Tony began randomly, halfway through his second sandwich.
Stephen set a piece of Parmesan cheese back on his plate. “Yes?” He asked hesitantly.
“I-” Tony seemed to freeze, “I.. you.. God , I can’t do this,” He whispered.
“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me since my ex-wife died. Keep doing you.” Tony forced out quickly, finishing his impromptu little speech with a thumbs up and an awkward smile.
“O…kay.” Stephen responded eloquently, unsure of how to react. Was this a love confession before he was dumped? Some kind of pre-dumping spiel to make Stephen feel better about himself? Where was the ‘but I’ve found someone new’ conversation?
Stephen watched as Tony turned away from Stephen and finished his sandwich in a few, hurried bites.
“So,” Tony said again after a while. Stephen was still picking at his cheese.
“So…?”
“Marriage,” Tony blurted out. Stephen froze.
“ What ?”
Tony nodded, then shook his head. “I mean.. What are your thoughts on marriage? Like how I think that anyone should be allowed to marry anyone they want, and that it's both a wonderful and terrifying commitment, yeah?”
Stephen swallowed. “I enjoy the idea of marriage and its fundamental values. I think it’s a wonderful thing. I also think that anyone should be allowed to marry anyone. And, if you think about it, everything takes some kind of commitment and whether one is ready for the type of commitment that marriage brings or not is fully dependent on the people getting married. Marriage is beautiful, but it’s not for everyone and that’s okay. Why?”
“Well,” Tony huffed after a few seconds of twirling grass in his callused hands, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” Tony looked up and met Stephen’s gaze, his brown eyes soft and his lips curling into a smile, “and I think I’m ready.”
Stephen stared at him, his heart pounding in his chest. Tony was showing every damn sign of cheating in the relationship handbook, and he was talking about marriage? Did he want to get married to someone else and was asking Stephen, his boyfriend of three years, for advice ?
It was almost too much to process, so Stephen did the sensible thing that anyone would do in this situation. He bolted.
Stephen ended up at a coffee shop a mile away with three missed calls and nine unread texts from Tony.
Where are you?
Stephen, please don’t run away
I’m sorry for whatever I said??
Was it about marriage? Are you not ready?
I can wait, I love you
Please tell me where you are
Or at least that you’re safe
I love you
I’m sorry
Stephen sighed. ‘Are you not ready’, his ass. He’d always secretly wanted a wedding with someone he could love, who loved him, and he had hoped it could have been with Tony, but that dream was slowly fading. He wasn’t ready to get his heart broken like some teenage girl. He wasn’t ready to marry someone who was so unfaithful. He wasn’t ready to trap himself in an unhappy relationship with someone who only cared about him for a few sparse moments before moving on.
With another sigh, Stephen took a sip from his coffee, hot after ordering it only a few minutes prior, and turned off his phone. Part of him felt bad, but another part of him felt a little vindicated that Tony could suffer just a little of what Stephen had been going through. That didn’t make it right, though, and Stephen’s conscience knew that. Somehow, his self-pitying coffee had turned into a debate between heart and mind.
It would have been a better debate if Tony were there, offering himself as a sounding board then shooting back his own ideas and opinions, countering Stephen’s train of thought and making him truly think about the issue at hand.
Eventually, his heart won and Stephen enjoyed his vindictive coffee while frantically texting Wong and trying not to cry. He never responded to Tony.
~
Tony groaned, dropping his face in his hands.
“I know we talked about it, maybe tying the knot sometime in the future,” Tony explained, “But now it seems like he doesn’t want to get married!”
“Oh, he wants to get married,” Christine, sitting across from Tony at the coffee shop, said. “But maybe he’s not ready? Have you talked to him about it?”
“I tried, but he keeps avoiding it whenever I’ve brought it up at home recently or running away, literally. He actually ran away from our picnic date.” Tony laughed dryly, “I just.. Don’t know what to do anymore,”
“What you do,” Yao announced as she placed a large mug of coffee in front of Tony, “is drink this and let us help you. I have known Stephen longer than both of you. Maybe I have a solution.”
Tony laughed, this time with more emotion. “Thanks, Yao.”
“I love Stephen just as much as you do, Tony. I want you two to be happy.” Yao smiled as she sat down, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Besides, you two are my only hope for grandchildren.”
Christine laughed next. “You’ve practically adopted me, Yao, and I’m already married and Charlie wants kids,”
“Charlie also wants to focus on his career right now, like you told me last month, and your cat recently had kittens – you already have your hands full,” Yao pointed out.
“Well then, you’re already a grandmother. Fur babies count.”
Yao stared at Christine then shook her head. She opened her mouth to respond, but Tony cut her off. “There’s also Peter, and what about Wong?”
“Wong’s asexual and aromatic.”
“Aro mantic ,” Christine corrected with a wince.
Yao glanced at her, then continued, “ Aromantic . He never wanted kids and he still doesn’t want kids. I respect that. You and Stephen, however…”
Tony smiled. “Peter adores him. It’s really sweet, actually, how much Pete looks up to him. Calls him ‘kangaroo’ and all.”
Both Yao and Christine ‘awed’. Stephen was adopted by Yao when he was ten years old after his parents had died in a plane crash and he was left to fend for himself until Yao took him in.
A few years before she had found Stephen, she had taken in a small Chinese boy left stranded in her town. His parents had taken him on a trip to the US and abandoned him in the middle of New York, changing their minds about having kids 7 years too late. Yao couldn’t have children of her own and her wife had died decades before, so adoption was one way she coped with the grief. When Stephen had brought Christine home for the first time, Yao had emotionally adopted her and they stayed close, even after their mutual breakup. Now with Charlie, Tony, and Peter in the mix, Yao’s family had grown, and Tony couldn’t be more grateful for their support. Especially with the current problem at hand.
“But there might not even be a kangaroo for Peter to look up to if Stephen keeps running away.” Tony circled back to the original reason he reached out to Stephen’s mom and his best friend. “I don’t know how to get through to him.”
Christine paused mid sip, “How are you planning to propose to him? Just a thought.”
“I..” Tony paused, “I don’t know. I want to be romantic, but I don’t want to be over the top, but I don’t want it to be too anticlimactic? When I married Peter’s mom, it was anticlimactic for her because she had picked the ring and the restaurant, everything. I want to surprise him. I know he wanted to get married, and we have talked about marriage before, when we first started getting serious, but this… this is new.”
Yao froze. She set her cup of tea down on the table with a resounding ring. “Surprise him.. How?” she asked.
Tony raised a brow. “He knows I want to marry him, he just doesn’t know when I’ll propose, I guess? I found him a ring that he’ll love, I just need to work up the courage to–”
“Stephen has a history of being cheated on,” Yao said suddenly. Tony looked at her. “He was always an amazing student, he earned his associate’s degree in high school, then threw himself into college and medical school before he got his PhD and MD at the same time. It left little time for others, even when he tried to make time for people he loved. Most of his relationships ended with his partners cheating on him.”
Christine nodded, not looking up from her mug. “I was the first. Who didn’t cheat, I mean. We met in med school, hit it off. I understood the commitments he made. I ended things when residency got to be too much and neither Stephen nor I could properly commit to a relationship, let alone deal with the stress of dating on top of our residencies. We agreed that being friends was better than dating and it was the right decision,” Christine sighed, “But Stephen has always been clingy. He doesn’t show it, but he has a fear of abandonment. Just like… just like you.”
Tony huffed. “But that’s from my dad being an asshole, not from being–” he froze, suddenly realizing the issue between him and Stephen. The planning behind his back, the hiding - “Oh god, Stephen thinks I’m cheating on him.”
Yao nodded, sipping from her tea while Tony continued to ramble. “I would never, ever cheat on him! Shit . I need to fix this, I–” Tony froze. Outside the coffee shop, standing on the street directly across from Tony’s table, was Stephen. Arms weighed down with bags of groceries – because Stephen had offered to get groceries while Tony was at lunch – and he looked devastated. Tony could almost see the gears turning in his head, the wrong assumptions forming around Tony’s meetings, the idea taking root in his mind that maybe Tony was cheating on him with his ex-girlfriend, his best friend in the world, the woman he called his sister.
His eyes widened when his gaze met Tony’s and for a fraction of a second, everything went silent. It was just the two of them, staring at each other through too much space and not enough words. Then Stephen schooled his expression, looked away, and pointedly walked off.
Tony nearly spilled his coffee, then knocked his stool to the ground in his haste to get up.
Stephen’s name was halfway past Tony’s lips before he even left the building.
~
Tony caught up with Stephen on a street corner a block away, waiting for the light to change so he could safely cross. Stephen had always waited for the light, even when others crossed randomly when the street was clear.
“I’m not cheating on you,” was the first thing that Tony said when Stephen turned around.
“Hello to you too,” Stephen greeted, his face unreadable. “And I never said that you were cheating on me.”
“I know, I know–” Tony gasped. God, he was really out of shape if running half a block had him this winded, “But that’s what you thought, right? That I was?”
“I–”
“Yao told me. That you had a history of being cheated on, that you’re just like me, that you’re scared of abandonment. And I’m so, so sorry if I made you feel like I’m leaving you because I never–”
Stephen stopped him. He turned fully, standing in front of Tony with his back to the crosswalk. “It’s all there. All the signs. And I... I can’t lose you. I can’t lose Peter.”
Tony felt himself deflate. He had no intention of hurting Stephen in any way, and if he had known… “You’re not going to lose Peter, Stephen. He adores you. I adore you. You’re the only one for me, Stephen. After my Mary died, I was lost. And you made it better and you made me better. I love you, Stephen Strange,” Tony brushed a lock of hair from Stephen’s forehead, rubbing a thumb along his cheek, “And I’m so sorry that I made you feel abandoned. I never meant to and I’m sorry. I really am and I don’t know how to say it any other way.”
Stephen was silent for a long moment. “All of the hiding, all of the secrets and the sneaking around, why did you do it? I just… want to know.”
“Because, Stephen,” Tony sighed, meeting Stephen’s gaze, “I wanted to surprise you. We’ve talked about marriage and.. I want to. I want to marry you and I want you permanently in my life, and I thought that it would be nice to take you out somewhere and surprise you, but I now realize that that wasn’t the best plan.”
“No, no it wasn’t,” Stephen looked so relieved that he was shaking, tears bubbling out with gasps halfway between crying and laughing. “And I want to marry you, too. I just... God , I thought you were sick of me.”
“Never,” Tony choked out, his own tears falling, “I could never be sick of you.”
Stephen nodded, then practically dropped his groceries to wrap his arms around Tony, crying into his shoulder.
“And if you don’t believe me, you can go through my phone, I can show you everything. I have the perfect ring for you, and I wanted to go out and be fancy, then I wanted it to just be you and me and I kept getting scared and chickening out and now here we are–”
“I don’t need anything, Tony, I just need you,” Stephen whispered. “Now ask me again, properly.”
Tony grinned. He extracted himself from Stephen’s embrace and knelt to the ground. He didn’t care that the streets of New York were disgusting, or that he was in the middle of the lunch rush, or that the sun was in Tony’s eyes and the light was green and someone was staring and someone else was recording. All that mattered was that Stephen was there and they were together.
He pulled out the dark blue velvet box that he had kept in his pocket for months, trying to find the perfect moment. The ring glistened in the afternoon sun, a thick silver band with black speckles, and three tiny, glimmering aventurine quartz crystals in the center that matched Stephen’s eyes.
“Stephen Vincent Strange, will you marry me?”
Stephen’s tears finally fell. He pulled Tony off the ground and kissed him, deeply.
“Yes,” he breathed when they parted, “yes, I’ll marry you. But promise me—no more secrets. Please.”
Tony nodded, kissing Stephen again. Once, then twice, until he was peppering Stephen’s face with brief kisses. “No more secrets. I promise.”
@ironstrangehaven | Ao3
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Ironstrange Week 2025, Day 4 - Courting
My contribution to Ironstrange Week 2025, Day 4. Thank you, @ironstrangehaven!
Read it here or on AO3. Please feel free to tell me your thoughts :)!
Summary:
Tony thought he’d seen it all—until Stephen Strange started leaving him bizarre presents. Is it a prank? A magical flex? Or something much stranger (and more romantic) than Tony expected?
---
A Strange Lid for a Special Pot
"Boss? Doctor Strange left a box for you in the common area."
Tony sighed at FRIDAY’s words. He guzzled down his smoothie and placed the bottle in the small dishwasher he kept in the ‘keep the inventor alive’ corner of his workshop. He’d made some promises about taking care of himself—among other things—when he and Pepper had parted for good. He may have nudged her toward Rhodey, too, so it wasn’t like Pepper was the only one trying to exert a little (undue but beneficial) influence over her ex’s and now-friend’s life.
"Does it sparkle?"
"It doesn’t emit any radiation above background levels, Boss."
Tony was a little curious what Strange would want to give him. The wizard had been acting even more mysterious lately, spouting wise-sounding gibberish in the Avengers' meetings, making Fury’s face harden, Steve nod along sagely and Tony swallow back his snickering, with the others in various combinations of baffled and exasperated. Strange was pretty committed to the bit, apparently—a pity that the bit could be summed up as being the voice actor for a really obnoxious fortune cookie, with heavy lines such as "The answers lie within" or "If the Avenger saves all those, and those only, who do not save themselves, who saves the Avenger?"
Not that the guy didn’t bring other, more magical things to the table. During recent team missions, namely, he was being also an even bigger show-off than Tony had initially taken him for. If Strange winked at Tony just a few more times, he might have to toss an eye guard at his head, to ward off all the imaginary dust that explained the blinking. Or some eye-drops. The showboating was also potentially distracting—fortunately, Tony was a pro at rolling his eyes without impairing his visual control over the battlefield, and also at knowing when to disregard provocation.
All said, with Strange’s recent habits, the box left for him could be either something to crank up the dubious mystery a few notches, or to rub some magical wonder under Tony’s nose.
Tony jogged to the elevator, stretching his stiff back a bit as it took him to the floor with the common room. He made it there in minutes. He didn’t even have to look around much: in the middle of the breakfast counter sat a small, garish yellow box, with a note stuck to it on thick, handmade-looking paper.
To: Tony Stark It reminded me of you. Dr. Stephen Strange
Tony heaved a sigh again, prepared for whatever strangeness awaited him, and opened the box. Wrapped in delicate tissue paper, a fist-sized, smooth orb sat in the middle.
It was a caterpillar. Preserved in a transparent stone.
Admittedly, a cool caterpillar. Nice colors, bright gold and crimson, with shiny blue accents on its tiny legs. But still a caterpillar.
Tony shook his head slowly, pondering. He prodded the stone with a finger. Nothing happened. So: a caterpillar. Rather plump. In Tony's colors. Was Strange trying to allude to something unflattering? He would definitely get that eye guard for the wizard now. And aim it just right for full impact.
---
From then on, Strange left something fitting his name every other week, scheduled before the Avengers’ meetings, addressed to Tony. He made himself scarce for the day he dropped the thing off, but afterwards, the next day at the team meeting, he would gravitate to Tony with an eager gleam in his eyes and a barely suppressed smile. Tony decided not to give him the satisfaction and pretended like nothing happened. Strange tried to initiate conversation by being irritating, but at Tony’s less than enthusiastic answers, he quickly backed down, and after the third occasion, he wouldn’t try to provoke a reaction from Tony anymore. He would just sit in his usual corner and give Tony the side-eye. Whenever he caught Tony looking—mostly just after having said something cryptic or witty to an item on the agenda (Tony was going out of his way not to look, after all)—he would preen a bit and let his Cloak flutter.
Tony wasn’t sure what the hell Strange was doing. If this was some kind of extended practical joke, or if all the magical dust from his raggedy books messed with Strange’s head and he thought this was some one-sided one-upmanship between them, magic against engineering… The objects he left for Tony weren’t active magically, as far as he could tell. He didn’t really want to play into Strange’s hand though, so he refused to spend any extended time studying them. It was bad enough that he had dedicated a whole shelf in the workshop to the wizard’s dumb joke. So, a few hours per object. Two to three days at most.
Try as he might, he just couldn’t find the punchline.
After some tinkering with a new jet engine configuration, waiting for the results from a quality check by FRIDAY, Tony drifted over to the shelf. If he thought about it, it wasn’t like he didn’t have time for a little mystery—on the contrary, he was having plenty of time to himself lately, with no partner or friends or perky interns lurking beyond the workshop door. The kid was living it up at MIT, his best friends had little free time on suspiciously coinciding intervals… As for work, Pepper was still crushing it as the CEO of Stark Industries, and aside from the Avengers' meetings Tony was showing up to as moral support, he considered himself semi-retired. All right, he still went out to fight the bigger threats. He still did plenty of technical support and inventing as well, but he was surprised by how much time he’d freed up by… well, stepping back from Avenger issues and complicated interpersonal dynamics. He just didn’t trust that the wizard presented him with something worth his time.
Looking over the gifts, Tony let his genius brain go over everything once more.
The caterpillar. Still cool, still a caterpillar. Tony let the orb roll around a bit in his palm, its surface pleasantly smooth, then sat it back in its box.
Glittery, metallic blue mites milling around in a glass box, giving off a faint hum. The note for those had said, "Reminded me of you too. No feeding necessary." Was that somehow a dig at his eating habits? Or the artificial arm and ribcage making him android-like, not needing food? Which he did, by the way. And he fed himself just fine. Okay, so with the mites, there was a parallel to nanomites and therefore his nanites, to be sure. But for what end?
Next was a pretty rock with veins from an extraterrestrial ore. The note had simply said, "For experiments." Tony explored the very limits of his best spectrometer with that one. He still had no clue what magical or scientific significance the rock had, besides glittering nicely. It wasn’t anything they had on Earth, sure, but he couldn’t find any use for it either. Yet.
After that, Strange had the temerity to leave one of Tony’s early research papers, published soon after his MIT days, bound with a red bow. It was corrected and annotated with magical explanations to the quantum effects it discussed. Or rather, extensions, because the scientific part was still top-notch, after all this time. There were a lot of new findings since then, yes, but they didn’t refute Tony’s hypotheses, which were well-founded anyway. There seemed to be some parallels to the mystical hodgepodge Strange dealt with, but they didn’t provide a better explanation or a more useful viewpoint at all. Again, it may be meant to poke at Tony’s scientific sensibilities and his pride, but it wasn’t full-scale or outrageous enough to be called a score for Strange in this game. At. All.
A glowing flower. It looked like it was made from the same light Strange’s magic often had, amber and warm, with no smell or sound. That was intriguing at least. No matter how fine Tony attuned them, his sensors couldn’t pick up any heat emissions or measurable radiation whatsoever. Light without those? Not even a minimal energy transfer? This would challenge the principles of energy conservation and electromagnetic theory as currently understood. Apparently challenged by magic. As if. Clarke’s law still applied: ‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’ Tony was not one to back down from advanced technology.
And the last token: chocolate from Nepal. Simple, common, earthbound chocolate, in a simple, common packaging. Good quality, as far as Tony could tell, but still. What had this to do with taunting Tony?
Wait.
Flowers and chocolate? That doofus. So, needling Tony with his scientific curiosity didn’t produce the outraged reaction the wizard had wanted, and now he tried to make it a personal sort of challenge, like playing gay chicken or something? Just you wait, Strange.
"FRIDAY, is the stage magician somewhere in the building right now?"
"If you mean Doctor Strange, Boss, he’s just concluded a meeting with Agent Hill and is still in conference room B4, working."
"Good. Have an eye on the analysis, FRIDAY. I’ve some wizard taunting to do."
---
"Strange!"
Strange had been sitting lopsidedly in one of the armchairs in the back of the smallest conference room, surrounded by scattered after-action reports and budget evaluations, if Tony guessed right. He knew those forms in his sleep, mostly from his nightmares. The wizard had been absentmindedly tugging at his hair, while his Cloak had tried to ruffle it even more. At Tony’s exclamation, Strange winced, looked up with wide eyes, then made some hasty gestures to gather his papers. He gave up, waved his hand in a wide sweep, and straightened up with a jaunty little smile. The reports vanished, replaced by a few hefty leather-bound books levitating around him, slowly descending into a neat stack on the floor. He tugged his robes back into place, and with a flourish, tossed one side of his Cloak over his shoulder. His display of self-satisfied confidence was only marred by the tufts of hair standing on end atop his head.
"Tony Stark! What a surprise!" he purred. Was that some magical glitter the Cloak was trying to subtly fan around? That better not clog up the vacuum bots.
"I live here," Tony said dryly. "It’s not that surprising to see me here. You darken my doorstep and leave your discarded stuff for me to find often enough."
Strange blinked a few times, smile wavering. Then he grinned.
"So, you were looking for me, Tony? Did you want to discuss something?" His tone was oddly hopeful.
"Oh, I sure did, Stephen."
Time to ramp it up. Tony had been uncharacteristically passive long enough, and Strange… oh no, sorry, Stephen deserved the challenge to be turned on him. Tony moved to the still-sitting wizard and bent forward enough that the man wouldn’t be able to stand up without bumping into him. He put his hands on the wide shoulders—they were nice and solid, so Tony made sure to squeeze.
"Were you trying to send me a message all this time?"
The wizard was looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights with those clear blue eyes, neck bent back, so his swallowing was extra pronounced.
"Did it…" his voice cracked, so he cleared his throat and proceeded to speak, "did the message land, finally? I was beginning to lose hope."
Tony’s long-brewing frustration spiked. Wow, the wizard was bold to imply that Tony was slow on the uptake... Though he had been a bit slow to catch on… Never mind, he wouldn’t be the first to crack now that he knew what the dare was.
If Strange wanted to play chicken, Tony was more than his match. Nobody out-brazened Tony.
With barely a flash of a thought and a decisive push forward, he sat down on the wizard’s lap, straddling his legs. He immediately regretted it. Not only were the wizard’s knees bony, and the physical closeness immensely uncomfortable, but this move was also a little too bold—even for Tony.
Well, nothing to do now but move forward.
Strange leaned back with an "Eep." He scrambled for a place for his hands, ultimately leaving them hovering awkwardly at his sides.
"So, Stephen. Is this what you wanted?" Tony asked in an exaggerated sultry voice.
After some nervous spluttering, the wizard managed to get a grip. With a little fumbling and a lot of clumsy positioning, he managed to grab one of Tony’s hands and, turning sideways, he pulled it up so he could reach it with a slight bow to press a kiss on it. He glanced up at Tony while doing it, barely seeing Tony's face from the corner of his eye, probably. Tony got a nice visual of the man’s right cheek getting redder and redder.
"Yes. Something like this. Or rather…" Strange muttered, cleared his throat again, and turned his head back to look Tony in the eye. He was attempting a winning smile, Tony supposed. It looked a bit strained from this close up though. "I’m glad my courting convinced you to… give it a try with me?" The last part came out like a question. A hopeful one.
All right then. New data. A slight course correction may be in order.
Tony hopped from the wizard’s lap, but didn’t tug his hand away from the light grasp. Instead, he gripped back carefully. Either the man was the best actor Tony had ever known, or his nutty behavior wasn’t just a challenge. Or a jest. It was serious.
Courting.
Utterly dumb and terribly executed, but serious. Tony was… feeling feelings.
Ugh.
He was confused, but also flattered, of all things. Fact was, Stephen wasn’t the worst person to try something with, he could admit that. It would have some entertainment value at least. If Tony went for this, he could have some fun with a fun if odd guy, fill up his empty social calendar a bit, and… they would see.
"We can give it a try," he didn’t wait for Stephen’s reaction, though there was definitely something happening around his eyes, and quickly added, "But your courting wasn’t exactly flawless. I have conditions for this. The showing off stops. Effective immediately."
The wizard nodded a few times. His face settled into looking relieved, but also unrepentant. "I wanted to impress you, show what I have going for me. Like being good at my job. Very good." His smile turned into a smug smirk. Seeing that a tuft of his hair was still sticking up, Tony was willing to overlook the smugness. He maybe even found it endearing. Yuck. He was getting soft. Must be the excess vitamins in the smoothies.
"You can keep up your shtick in meetings though, if you have to."
The smugness retreated. Instead, there was a distinct mischievousness in the crinkle of Stephen’s eye now.
"It made you laugh, didn’t it?"
Tony liked the mischievous grin a lot more than the smarmy one.
"So, you did it on purpose? Driving the team crazy just to amuse me?"
Stephen didn’t answer, just shrugged one shoulder with a noncommittal little hum, looking off somewhere to one side. His faux innocent look was as good as saying ‘Of course.’ Time for the next condition then.
"You don’t just drop off your little presents and hightail it. You stick around for the consequences."
The wizard grimaced and followed it up with some more serious nodding. There was a distinct reddish color creeping up his throat. It wasn’t as strong as before though. Only a little bit embarrassed then, huh?
Tony mused for a moment. His gaze fell onto the Cloak.
"No more glitter," he added.
"No glitter," Stephen said solemnly. His eyes glinted with hidden laughter. The reprobate. He wasn’t as innocent or unaware of the strangeness of his courting as he pretended. More than that, he had probably planned the whole thing to be as unhinged as possible. Now Tony was really feeling flattered. Stephen must think him worth quite some trouble if he was going for the craziest possible way to intrigue him. Time to acknowledge his success. Tony was a generous partner after all.
"Otherwise, keep up the good work."
He couldn’t wait to let Stephen have a taste of courting in the Tony Stark style.
Notes:
Stephen’s longer line at the Avengers’ meeting is a play on the barber paradox—an applied version of Russell’s paradox: “If the barber shaves all those, and those only, who do not shave themselves, who shaves the barber?” He’s being that extra just to make Tony laugh, yes :D.
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange Characters: Tony Stark, Stephen Strange Additional Tags: Originally Posted on Tumblr, Ficlet, Time Loop, Pre-Relationship Series: Part 1 of IronStrange Week 2025 Summary:
Stephen decides to get Tony's input on an ethical quandary.
Day 1 – July 6 – Chronic Pain | Time Loop.
You Can't Blame Gravity for Falling in Love
This fic is part of my CardCaptor Tony Stark au and it's based on the episode: Sakura, Syaoran, and the Elevator.
IronStrange Week Day 2
Prompt: Death
Tags: Alternate Universe, Stephen Strange Centric, Stephen Thinks Tony Fell to His Death
Read it on AO3 or here on tumblr.
@ironstrangehaven
Syaoran: (sitting on the park bench) I finally understand that I...like her.
~ Cardcaptor Sakura, Season 3 Episode 57, Sakura, Syaoran, and the Elevator
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two figures were sitting on the floor in a space too small to be a store in the mall. In the darkness, the features only recognizable to them were the buttons and their numbers, and the words close and open. The two teens were trapped in the elevator. No amount of yelling that they had done minutes before seemed to work, as though their shouts were being absorbed by the metal walls that had surrounded them.
The two teens had gone to the movies at the mall with their other friends when they had been separated from the others. Stephen and Tony didn’t plan on separating from their friends, but it was inevitable when the two young sorcerers sensed a magic so old and yet so familiar to them. The two boys made flimsy excuses to separate from their friends, Pepper and Happy taking charge of the lie and strengthening as the two ran towards the source of the magic that they had sensed.
And now here they were stuck in the elevator, the magic of Clow Reed that they had sensed leading the two here, and the magic keeping them trapped with no way out. Even Tony’s cards did nothing to dispel the darkness and the trap that they were in. Tony and Stephen had been trapped for so long that they began to feel the cold that the darkness around had brought.
Stephen, quick as lightning, reached his hand out as he attempted to grab Tony’s hand, as he watched the other teen suddenly fall back as the flooring below him disintegrated below Tony. It felt as though time had slowed down, and despite the speed at which Stephen moved, his hand barely grazed Tony’s fingers.
Stephen watched in horror as his eyes focused on Tony as he slowly fell into the deep darkness, the shadows within the dark gradually enveloped Tony in their harsh embrace. A pain so heavy and sharp pierced Stephen’s heart, the pain radiating throughout his body, the only thing that seemed to distract him from the emptiness that slowly appeared as Tony continued to fall. As he stood there in the deep, unnatural darkness created by a presence nearby, Stephen’s body stood frozen, as his mind drowned in the horror and shock as Tony continued to disappear from him, Tony’s chocolate brown eyes the last thing that Stephen saw.
“To…Ton…TONY!” Stephen roared, his voice gruff and full of unspoken emotions for Tony.
“TONY!”
“TONY!”
Stephen continued to screech, his body moving as he finally gained control of his body. His blue eyes were wide with fear and desolation as Stephen processed what had happened.
Stephen roared a heartbreaking scream again, as he fell towards the ground on all fours, tears beginning to well up in his dark blue eyes. He never told Tony how he’d felt; he’d been wanting to tell Tony, but now he was gone, having fallen to his death. Stephen had always felt too much like a chicken to tell Tony that he loved him. Every time Stephen had been close to confessing, his feelings for Tony always began to overwhelm him. It felt like his lungs were both being filled with oxygen and deflating from oxygen deprivation when he stared into Tony’s soulful, chocolate brown eyes as he attempted to profess his feelings.
As Stephen wept, he brought his face closer to the ground, his forehead touching the surface as the tears he wept landed near his fisted hands. The sorrow he felt slowly turned to anger as he pounded a fist against the floor, his forehead still against the ground, and his magic sparking around him like electrical charges of lightning.
Stephen should have just told Tony his feelings for him. He was such an idiot. He thought they had more time. He could do nothing for his magic was somehow useless against his ancestor’s magic. Stephen continued to weep for his lost love.
As Stephen wept, a soft red and gold glow from within the deep, dark void below began to fill his vision.
He watched as the glow gradually grew bigger and brighter. That red and gold glow was familiar, so familiar that it steadied the arm that reached for Stephen’s weapon. Hope was beginning to fill Stephen up again.
Stephen kept watch as the glow became stronger, and from within that glow was Tony. Tony, who was kneeling on a floating bubble.
Time seemed to freeze for a moment before Stepehn pounced towards Tony and pulled him into a rib-breaking hug.
“I thought I lost you,” Stephen whispered into Tony’s ear, “I thought you died.”
As Stephen whispered into Tony’s ear, he felt Tony’s arms wrapped around his waist.
“Me too, but then I remembered I had the float card,” whispered Tony, his breath tickling Stephen’s ear.
Stephen kept hugging Tony; he wouldn’t lose him again, but Tony slightly pushed away from him. Stephen stared into Tony’s honey brown eyes, and he could see the sparkle that meant that Tony had something to tease him about.
“Did you know that that was the first time you called me by my name instead of Stark?” said Tony, a smile gracing his face.
Stephen stepped back from Tony and blushed, his face turning bright red.
“Sh…shh…shut up, Stark,” bit back Stephen.
“N taksie backsie!” crowed Tony as he cancelled his magic once his feet were back on land and the elevator returned to normal.
Clow Reed’s presence disappeared from their senses. The two teens relaxed for now, as they waited for the next time that Clow Reed’s magic flared again.
IRONSTRANGE WEEK BEGINS THIS SUNDAY!!
From July 6 to July 12, you can post your works for each day. If you don’t have time during the week you can still post after event. During the week for each day, just post your work for that day once you’re ready to share them. Don’t forget to mention us @ironstrangehaven .
Prompts:
Day 1 [7/6]: Chronic Pain | Time Loop
Day 2 [7/7]: Hate at First Sight (and then Love) | Death
Day 3 [7/8]: Nobility | Crime
Day 4 [7/9]: Parenting | Courting
Day 5 [7/10]: Learning About Their Area of Expertise | Touch Starved
Day 6 [7/11]: What Could Have Been | Witty
Day 7 [7/12]: Meeting Their Multiverse Selves | Pick Your Own Prompt
Reminders:
Tag your works on AO3/Tumblr appropriately, if it’s a NSFW, please place it under a ~Read More~
All types of fanwork are accepted, again just tag appropriately
If you have an AO3 account you can also add your works to the event collection
Instead of making a new collection, I’ve decided to make the first collection from when we first started IronStrange Week as the main master collection. If you want to you can add your IronStrange week fics from the previous years into the main collection page.
IRONSTRANGE WEEK MASTER COLLECTION
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works