I just put out a SoulMate au Prompt!
On your birthday, as soon as you hit a certain age, you get to see a glimpse of your soulmate and possible clue as to who they are. And it repeats every year on ur birthday.
Maybe for the first several years Tony never saw anyone. So maybe his soulmate wasn't 18 yet. But then 5 years turn into 10, 15, 20 ( how many u wanna age him up to) so he thinks he doesn't have one.
Tony is getting ready with his friends and tailor, and he goes to check himself out, and he doesn't see himself. He sees Peter.
Now could know him already or not. Peter could be Spiderman or not!
I think it would be a fun idea!
- WinterSpiderPurrs
I know it's been almost two full years but here it is! Thank you for the prompt :)
also on ao3
Tony sighed, running his hands over the burgundy suit he was trying on. It didn’t sit right on him—too stiff, too impersonal—but he could imagine someone else wearing it. Someone standing beside him, fingers laced with his, accompanying him to his birthday party.
Someone he still didn’t have a face for.
Every year, his birthday arrived with the same disappointment. No vision. No glimpse. No confirmation that there was someone out there meant for him. At first, he had told himself his soulmate just wasn’t old enough yet. But as five years turned into ten, then fifteen, then twenty, the hope had faded.
Now, he wasn’t sure he had a soulmate at all.
Loud laughter from the waiting area pulled him from his thoughts. Tony’s shoulders slumped. He didn’t want Rhodey or Happy catching on to the turmoil written all over his face. Forcing himself to turn away from the noise, he faced the full-length mirror instead.
The suit looked just as wrong as it felt.
With a huff, Tony started to turn away, only for a flicker of movement in the glass to freeze him in place.
His breath caught.
His reflection was gone.
Instead, staring back at him was someone else.
Unruly curls, wild and windswept. Pale wrists wrapped in what looked like homemade gadgets, their design so unfamiliar that even Tony’s mind struggled to piece them together.
He leaned in, heart hammering, trying to get a better look—
And just like that, the image vanished.
The mirror once again reflected nothing but his own dissatisfied expression and the burgundy suit he suddenly wanted to set on fire.
Tony blinked.
Once. Twice.
“Holy shit,” he breathed.
He had a soulmate.
For the first time in years, something warm and unfamiliar bloomed in his chest, pushing aside the loneliness he’d grown used to carrying.
He didn’t say anything to Rhodey or Happy, who were still waiting for him to pick a suit. This was his, and his alone, to process.
But suddenly, picking out a suit felt meaningless. What did it matter? There was someone out there for him. Destined for him.
And Tony was going to find them.
Tearing off the suit, he pulled his own clothes back on, leaving the discarded fabric crumpled on the floor. He didn’t bother fixing it before striding out to his friends.
“I’m calling off the party,” he announced, cutting off their conversation.
Rhodey blinked. “All the guests have RSVP’d.”
Happy frowned. “And you love parties. Especially your own.”
Tony shrugged, impatience flickering in his eyes. “I’m a reformed man. I’ll take you two to dinner instead.”
Dinner would take less time. He had more important things to do now.
Rhodey and Happy exchanged a weird look, but Rhodey just sighed. “Whatever you want, Tones. It’s your day.”
Tony threw an arm around each of them, steering them toward the exit. They were halfway down the street when the first scream rang out.
They stopped cold.
Panic rippled through the air, the distant sound of chaos surging closer.
Tony’s hand hovered over his watch, instincts taking over.
Something was happening.
And for the first time, his gut told him it might be more important than any fight he’d been in before.
Across the street, a crowd scattered in all directions, their screams echoing off the towering buildings. Something—or someone—had sent them into a panic. Rhodey and Happy instinctively flanked Tony, scanning for the threat.
A car alarm blared as a sedan was flung sideways, skidding across the pavement before slamming into a fire hydrant. A geyser of water erupted, drenching the road. Through the chaos, Tony caught sight of the culprit—a metallic-armed thug in a makeshift exo-suit, stomping forward with all the grace of a wrecking ball.
“Great,” Tony muttered. “Guess it’s work mode now.”
Before he could activate his nanotech, a blur of red and blue shot down from above.
Spider-Man.
Tony barely had time to register the hero’s arrival before the kid launched himself straight at the armored thug, webbing his wrist and yanking hard. The thug snarled, trying to shake him off, but Spider-Man was already flipping over his head, landing a precise kick to the back of his skull.
Rhodey let out a low whistle. “Gotta hand it to the kid. He knows how to make an entrance.”
Tony grunted, eyes narrowing. He’d seen Spidey in action plenty of times before, but something about this moment held him captive. The way the kid moved—fluid, confident, impossibly fast—it felt... familiar.
Then he saw them.
The wrist-mounted devices.
Tony’s stomach dropped.
No way. It couldn’t be.
His mind reeled back to the vision in the mirror—pale wrists, odd gadgets strapped to them. They were different from his own tech, but unmistakably homemade. He had brushed it off at the time, too consumed by the shock of finally seeing his soulmate at all. But now, standing in the middle of a crumbling city street, watching Spider-Man weave between blows, it hit him like a freight train.
His soulmate might be standing right in front of him.
He had no proof, no way to know for sure. But the possibility lodged itself in his chest, refusing to be ignored.
“Tony,” Rhodey barked, snapping him out of it.
The thug had finally shaken off Spider-Man and was now barreling toward them, arms raised.
Tony’s hesitation shattered. Whatever this was, whoever his soulmate turned out to be, he’d deal with that later. Right now, he had a fight to finish.
He pressed his watch. The suit deployed around him in an instant.
“Let’s dance,” he muttered, launching into the fray.
The thug roared, slamming his exo-enhanced fists into the pavement, sending a shockwave rippling through the street. Cars bounced, windows shattered, and the force sent bystanders scrambling for cover.
Tony barely had time to react before Spider-Man shot out a web, yanking him backward just as a streetlight came crashing down where he had stood.
“Seriously, dude? Watch your step!” Spidey quipped, twisting midair before planting both feet against the thug’s chest. The force of the impact sent the villain stumbling, but he dug his mechanical fingers into the asphalt, stopping his fall with brute strength.
“Appreciate the assist, Webs,” Tony called, sending a repulsor blast at the thug’s exposed side. The villain barely flinched.
“Yeah, no problem!” Spider-Man shot a line of webbing to the thug’s wrist, yanking hard to throw him off balance. “But maybe next time, let’s not fight guys built like refrigerators?”
The thug growled and swung wildly. Spidey ducked, flipping over the attack, but the villain anticipated it this time. With terrifying speed, he reached up and caught Spider-Man mid-air, gripping him by the torso with a crushing force.
Spider-Man yelped.
Tony’s heart clenched.
“Gotcha now, bug,” the thug sneered, squeezing tighter. Spider-Man struggled, arms pinned to his sides, legs kicking.
Tony didn’t hesitate—he fired up his thrusters and shot forward.
But before he could reach them, the villain’s other hand gripped the edge of Spider-Man’s mask. In one brutal motion, he ripped it clean off.
The world seemed to slow as Tony took in the face now exposed to the open air.
Brown eyes wide with alarm. A mess of curls he instantly recognized.
Tony’s breath caught.
It was him. The same face he had seen in the mirror. His soulmate.
Something in Tony shifted, like a key turning in a lock he hadn’t known was there. A fierce protectiveness surged through him, drowning out everything else.
His soulmate was in danger.
And Tony Stark did not let the people he loved get hurt.
Before the thug could tighten his grip, Tony fired a concentrated repulsor blast straight at his wrist. The exo-enhanced metal cracked under the impact, sending a jolt through the villain’s arm. His grip faltered just enough.
The kid took advantage.
Despite the pain, he jerked his legs up, planting both feet against the thug’s chest and pushing off with every ounce of strength he had. The force ripped him free from the villain’s grasp, sending him tumbling through the air.
Tony was there in a second.
He caught the kid before he could hit the ground, arms wrapping securely around him as they hovered above the street. The kid gasped, chest rising and falling rapidly, dazed from the lack of oxygen.
Tony tightened his hold.
“Gotcha, kid.”
The boy blinked up at him, eyes wide and unfocused. Tony could see the moment the realization hit—his face flushed slightly, but he didn’t say anything.
Tony didn’t either. His mind was racing too fast.
This was his soulmate. But he had no idea who he was.
And that was something he was going to change.