#bamf nat

Chapter One: Trouble is Cooking

by celestial-irondad 

1, 225 words 

1/?

based on @funkylittlebidiot’s chat post about ironstrange

edit: click on the chapter title to read it on ao3!!!

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There are two sides to Dr Stephen Vincent Strange. On one hand, he can be holed up in the Sanctum Sanctorum for weeks on end, just reading book after book after book. He’ll have a bitter cup of tea, no sugar, right beside him as he reads in his rocking chair, with the polluted air of New York City penetrating into his living quarters. 

On the other hand, sometimes all he wants to do is to bring chaos to the lovely New York City. He usually has a plan ready whenever these episodes happen, something to spice up the petty lives of the Avengers. For example, Stephen’s currently in the Avengers’ quinjet, tied up like some rope bunny, on his way to the Avengers’ Compound. It may not seem like it, but everything is falling into place. Stephen’s capture was planned, his trip to the Compound was planned. He’s going to destroy the Compound from the inside and these measly superheroes won’t even see it coming. 

Of course, Stephen made it slightly difficult for the Avengers to capture him. He’s not a complete idiot. He fought with whoever was present for about an hour, only showing off the simple spells he had learnt. Nothing more was needed with these superheroes. He could have gone on, too, if it weren’t for the fact that he had a time schedule to keep. 

The moment the Compound comes into view, Stephen is momentarily winded from the sheer beauty of it. The architecture is breathtaking and whoever designed it deserves a golden, gleaming medal. But before he can make a comment on it, he’s carried into the building by one very strong Captain America, who doesn’t seem to break a sweat. 

‘Did I not gain weight?’ Stephen questions himself internally. ‘All I had been doing this past month was eat, sleep and shit. Surely, I had gained some weight?’

He doesn’t dwell much on it because he’s forced out of his thoughts when he’s unceremoniously dumped into a very hard wooden chair. He groans at the ache growing at his rear end, cursing at the existence of magic binding ropes. He sighs soon after, his mood quickly turning sour. This was supposed to be a fun little excursion, a break from being cooped up in the Sanctum Sanctorum for the past two months. Why did the Avengers have to ruin everything? What kind of sick joy did they obtain from this? All Stephen wanted, was a little explosion, a small firework celebration as the Compound burned.

“Is the interrogation part going to begin?” The sorcerer drawls, looking utterly disinterested, even yawning to prove his point. The Black Widow steps forward threateningly, with her knives gleaming in the light before she’s promptly stopped by Captain America. 

The doctor smirks. Is it this easy to rile these heroes up? 

The Black Widow stabs her knife into the armrest of Stephen’s wooden chair, looking dangerous. “Here’s how it’s going to go. We’re going to ask some questions and you’re going to answer them.”

Stephen raises his eyebrows and closes his eyes as he nods. These superheroes are cute if they think he’ll spill all his secrets just because they asked him to.

“What are the sorcerer’s plans?” Captain America asks arms crossed over his chest, trying to look more intimidating, obviously to no avail. Stephen just looks even more unimpressed, if possible. 

“Oh, mine?” He asks back, looking around as if deep in thought. “Hmm… I don’t really know. I was planning to make myself a nice cup of tea after this, but I think that may have to be postponed.”

The Black Widow drags her knife along the length of the armrest. The doctor glances at the action, not bothered in the slightest. It would take much, much more to successfully instil fear into him. Her little tricks may work on the normal people she usually interrogates, but not Stephen. Really, is this the best she could do? Stephen is the Sorcerer Supreme and he feels slightly offended that the Black Widow thinks she can scare him by just using mere knives. 

Please, he’s seen scarier in his dreams.

“What is the—” before Captain America can finish repeating the same question, the door to the interrogation room slides open. And the sorcerer finds himself out of breath for the second time that day. 

Stephen is absolutely sure that the man who walked into the room is not of this world. He’s wearing the tightest black shirt that clings to his body in the most delicious of ways, complementing his muscles beautifully. His sweats are too loose for Stephen’s liking, but well, he can’t win everything, now can he? The man has an oil stain on his perfectly sculpted face, smudged right below his eye, right on his cheekbone, highlighting it. His lips are quirked into a stunning smile, his hair a lovely shade of brown. Stephen isn’t quite close enough to see the colour of his eyes, but he’s sure they are also as enchanting as the rest of him. 

“Hey,” the ethereal man says, pausing at the sight of Stephen tied up. He pauses a little too long, eyeing the villain up and down, clearly liking what he sees. “Oh, hello to you, too. Anyway, stop by the lab if you want your suit patched up, Nat. I have some upgrades in mind, too.”

Oh, his voice. Such an angelic sound. The sorcerer thinks he can listen to it forever. Forget being cooped up in the Sanctum Sanctorum reading his ancient books, Stephen wants to be cooped up in this man’s room. 

The doctor kicks Captain America in the shin, uncaring that he doesn’t get a dramatic reaction. “Wait, what? This is your boss?”

The man in red, white and blue frowns, unfolding his arms. “What? No? Tony’s not our—”

Right at this moment, a golden portal appears, blazing as Wong steps through it. The assistant falters at the sight of the people gathered, but quickly casts a spell that shields him from the rest and casually starts to untie Stephen. The Avengers are in a state of shock, but before they can move, Wong seizes the opportunity to momentarily paralyse them. Their faces are varying degrees of shock and fury when they realise what happened, but before they can shout, Stephen speaks.

“Why have we been wasting our time with these idiots,” Stephen cries, pointing to everyone in the room, besides his angel, “when this being has been roaming around the halls of this building? Oh, Vishanti! This has been a colossal waste of my time!”

Wong mumbles an incoherent reply, before speaking up. “So… I’m guessing we won’t be blowing the building up today?”

Stephen looks at Wong incredulously, rubbing his sore arms before using a little spell to knock the occupants in the room unconscious. He catches Tony right before he hits the ground, cradling the body close to his chest as if Tony was a delicate piece of china. The rest of the Avengers drop to the floor like sacks of potatoes, creating ‘thunking’ sounds that make Stephen smile.

“Of course not, Wong,” Stephen rolls his eyes, hoisting Tony into his arms, carrying him bridal style. “Let’s go back to the Sanctum. We’ll blow this place up another time. I have important things to do, now.”

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hello! i hope you enjoyed this little fic! maybe i’ll write a second part to this, who knows? anyway, please reblog if you liked it, give me some comments? 

*this is my first time writing ironstrange and i dont usually write romantic ish relationships (im hermit crab irondad, not hermit crab ironeveryone), but i hope its good enough..?