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(un)armed

Summary:

the rogues dont understand that tony is not their sugar daddy

team iron man- you know the rules

Notes:

theres not a lot of stephen in this one, sorry :(

its a lot of tony standing up for himself, which is pretty good, especially in the face of those he let walk over him in the past

i also wrote it in like 20 mins so dont judge me too harsh

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Tony was sitting on the couch, tapping away at schematics for a new version of the armor, when Romanoff practically threw a gun at him. He startled, armor immediately encasing his hand in a gauntlet, which he pointed at her.

 

“Calm down,” she said, rolling her eyes. “My gun keeps jamming. I need you to fix it.”

 

Tony tossed the gun onto the table in front of him. “So?” he asked. “Call the UN, they provide your weapons.”

 

“They did a shitty job last time,” Romanoff practically growled. “So fix it. I can’t go on the field with malfunctioning tech.”

 

“Okay,” Tony said amiably. “For the consult alone, you’ll owe me a couple thousand. The cost of the parts is really negligible compared to that, so I’ll waive it. The actual fixing, well, it’ll be expensive. I can have Pepper draw you up an estimate and a contract, if you’d like?”

 

“Stop being petty,” she spat. “You don’t need the money, you just won’t let go of your ego and realize that maintenance is what you’re good for.”

 

Tony stared at her. “So, should I pencil you into the schedule?”

 

Romanoff shot him a death glare and stormed off.

 

“Hey!” he called after her. “You forgot your gun!”

 

---

 

Tony was alone, Stephen having left earlier in the day to deal with magic stuff. He was sitting in his office working on papers for Pepper when a knock at the door startled him.

 

“Come in!” he called.

 

“Stark,” Wilson greeted, dropping his Falcon wings on Tony’s desk. “Something’s off with them, I need you to fix them.”

 

“No can do,” Tony said, not even looking up from where he was working. “I don’t do upgrades for you guys.”

 

“Damn, Stark,” Wilson gave him a disappointed look. “I mean, how petty can you get? Its about our safety on the field, our lives . What the hell, man?”

 

Tony just shrugged. “There are some perfectly competent engineers that work for the UN, Wilson. Call one of them.”

 

“Yeah, but they’re not you. You’re leagues above them, why won’t you just fix my wings?” Wilson groaned dramatically.

 

Leagues above them ? Flattery will get you nowhere,” Tony said dryly. “I run a multi-billion dollar company in addition to my work as part of the Avengers. I simply have no time to fix your equipment. Call the UN.” With that, Tony stood up and walked away, Wilson fuming behind him.

 

---

 

After a mission, Tony usually had a cup (or ten) of coffee before going to the lab for repairs. With Stephen around, sometimes Tony stayed for a meal, but normally he went to the lab. Tony was in the kitchen making coffee when Barton angrily walked in.

“These new arrows are shit, Stark,” Barton announced, tossing a quiver at Tony, who neatly sidestepped.

 

“And you’re telling me this why?” Tony replied, pouring himself a mug of coffee.

 

“So you can do better,” Barton sneered. “Don’t you like constructive criticism?”

 

“One, nothing you say can be construed as constructive,” Tony said dryly. “Two, I didn’t make those arrows, so your criticism is misplaced.”

 

Barton gaped in shock. “You’re the reason my arrows don't work right?” he demanded.

 

“Just because I spoiled you with custom arrows, designed with your specifications in mind, at one point doesn’t mean the standard ones don’t work right,” Tony deadpanned. “Besides, its insulting to every engineer who consulted on your project, of which I am not one, to say that your perfectly functional arrows don’t work right.”

 

“This is a new level of petty,” Clint cursed.

 

Tony raised an eyebrow and took a long sip of his coffee. Barton sent him one more long curse before stomping out.

 

“Language!” Tony called cheerfully.

 

---

 

This time, Tony was just in the hallway, walking to the training rooms. He had made some upgrades to the suit and wanted to test them, but Maximoff stopped him.

“Make me new body armor,” Wanda said, using her powers to throw a damaged garment at Tony.

 

“No,” Tony replied, staring her down.

 

Red gathered at her fingertips like she was going to attack. “Why not?” she said, sounding like a child throwing a tantrum (if the child was armed with a dangerous weapon and was slightly sadistic, that it).

 

“Not my job,” Tony replied curtly. Even though he knew she couldn’t hurt him, not through Stephen’s wards, the red magic triggered painful flashbacks. He tried to leave, but she blocked him.

 

“It’s the least you can do,” she spat at him. “You killed my family and tore apart the Avengers.”

 

“And giving you body armor would fix that?” Tony quipped. “Wow, it’s almost like you think I’m stupid. I said no, Maximoff. Now, back off.”

 

“Or what?” Wanda grinned evilly.

 

“We’ll see how good that body armor is against repulsors,” Tony replied casually. His eyes hardened, showing that he was absolutely ready and able to blast her.

 

She moved only when he powered up his gauntlet, muttering something about murderers and buying a conscience . (Tony didn’t particularly care what she said, as long as she said it twenty feet away from him).

 

---

 

“Tony, the team needs their equipment fixed,” Rogers said, crossing his arms. “This has gone on long enough. You’ve made your point.”

 

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tony said, breezing past the larger man. Stephen was waiting for him by the elevators; it was date night, and the pair had reservations at the Italian place down the road. “I don’t do repairs. The UN couldn’t afford me, they asked.”

 

“You’ve always done our repairs,” Rogers said stubbornly. “You’ve never asked for payment before.”

 

Tony shrugged. “It’s dangerous to have a private citizen providing weapons to a group like the Avengers free of charge.” He could see Stephen now (and the scrunchy face the man adopted when Rogers was near. It was ridiculously endearing). “Now, if you’ll excuse me-”

 

“No,” Rogers said lowly, grabbing Tony’s arm. “We aren’t finished.”

 

Stephen’s face hardened. “Yes, you are,” he said, and a flare of orange burned Rogers’s palm where he gripped Tony. “Back off.”

 

“This is a private conversation, Strange,” Rogers sneered, and Tony rolled his eyes.

 

“Private in that it occurred in a common area in full earshot of, well, everyone?” Stephen asked faux-innocently.

 

“Tony,” Rogers turned to Tony, electing to ignore Stephen entirely. “We need you to do this. Your stuff is the best, everyone knows that. Besides, its a great way to go about making an apology-”

 

Stephen cut him off. “You’re suggesting bribery, for one thing, which isn’t an actual apology. Not that you’d know an actual apology if it murdered you and danced on your grave, but that’s a problem for another day,” he said angrily. “What you need to understand is that Tony is in no way responsible for your gear and he has no obligation to be so. You can’t force him to do it, and if you try, if you in any way attempt to coerce or compel him do do it, well, you won’t like the consequences.” Stephen smiled, more a baring of teeth than anything else.

 

Rogers gulped, “Whatever,” he spat. “Come see me when you’re ready to be a team,” he said to Tony. Tony just flipped him off and turned to his boyfriend.

 

“Thanks, babe,” Tony said to Stephen, pulling him into a long kiss. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

 

“That’s what I’m here for,” Stephen said dryly. “Verbal takedowns of people you don’t like.”

 

“And portals!” Tony chimed in.

 

“And portals.”



Notes:

how was it?

prompts/suggestions welcome!

comments and kudos make me write more

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