#obsession verse

I find myself walking this weird line with Obsession ‘Verse Stephen, because he’s still a doctor, and he’s still got that respect for life in him, so when he goes scary on people it needs to be in… other ways. Fortunately, “getting rid of” can also mean doing something to someone that is not killing them, and which would still make people side-eye him. 😀 

I actually borrowed this particular solution from a panel I saw from the comics. There’s a chance it was out of context, but I don’t think so…

-

Steve stares down at the man who is kneeling, sobbing disconsolately into his hands, for a long time. Eventually, he looks up at Doctor Strange, who is fussing over Tony while Tony rolls his eyes and swears up and down that he’s fine.

Clearing his throat, Steve suppresses a flinch when Strange turns to meet his gaze. Steve waves at the sobbing man. “What did you do to him?”

“You could call it psychic surgery,” Strange says, lips quirking like there’s anything amusing about this. “He didn’t have a conscience, so grafted one onto him.”

“And who donated their conscience?” Steve asks.

“Okay, so it’s not a perfect metaphor,” Strange says. “I copied bits of it from here and there. Regardless, he won’t be masterminding any more murder plots.” Steve glances at the man uneasily. Strange raises his eyebrows. “Would you rather I’d killed him?”

The words come automatically. “Of course not. I just…” Steve waves at the man. “He isn’t the same person anymore, is he?” The words Is that really any different? go unspoken.

“Think of it this way,” Strange says. “I just helped him realize the error of his ways.” Strange turns back to Tony, though he seems to have transitioned from fussing to reassuring himself, if the kiss is any indication.

Steve looks back at the sobbing former mastermind. 

Obsession verse from @synonemous but a different time period

I really wanted to draw this little family again but I wasn't able to come up with anything other than this..

+bonus: I posted a poll on my personal ig if they should be like individual portraits or a family one and it ended up being 50/50 so here are both

I have so many little series going now that I almost forgot about Obsession ‘Verse! 

This is the romantic side of Obsession ‘Verse. Of course, it has to be a little over the top. 😀

-

Stephen hadn’t originally intended to make Tony wait for so long. The delay had originally been more about Stephen’s willingness to risk anyone else seeing Tony… disheveled. It doesn’t matter what people have seen in the past, Tony is his now and that means some things are reserved for Stephen.

So no, the wait wasn’t planned, but the way Tony looked at him as the waiting went on was intoxicating. The anticipation. The eagerness. The impatience. Tony’s gaze found Stephen the moment he entered the room, as if Stephen was the center of Tony’s world. Just that look left Stephen on the brink of arousal at some truly inappropriate moments. 

Stephen would continue drawing things out, except that a hint of uncertainty has crept into Tony’s gaze lately, and Stephen can’t stand the idea that Tony might ever question his devotion.

He plans the moment meticulously. Tony is fond of grand gestures, but he’s received very few himself. He’s less fond of magic, but Stephen wants to show off. He thinks Tony will permit it.

Stephen sets everything in motion late at night, after a Stark Industries event that Pepper has insisted Tony attend. Tony will be tired and irritable after a long night chatting up people who hardly even see him as a person, but when Stephen asks FRIDAY if Tony can meet him on the observation deck of the tower, there’s only a moment’s delay before she reports his agreement.

Tony is dressed in a tuxedo, as expected, though he’s undone the collar and discarded his tie. Stephen is also in a tux, his still crisply appointed. “You’re all dressed up,” Tony says, approaching Stephen where he stands at the railing. “I didn’t think you had an event tonight.”

“I didn’t,” Stephens says. He gestures to himself. “This is for you.”

A hint of heat enters Tony’s eyes. “I don’t need all the bells and whistles.”

“But you deserve a few.” Stephen holds Tony’s gaze. “May I show you something?” He turns a hand palm up and lets magic flicker over his palm to clarify.

“On me?” Tony asks.

Stephen smiles. “On the city.”

Tony’s eyebrows go up and the interest in his gaze deepens. “Okay.”

Stephen forces himself to focus as he weaves the spell, despite the fact that he can feel Tony’s attention like a physical touch. This spell is meant for a small area, just a few people, but there’s no reason it can’t be cast at larger scales, if the sorcerer is strong enough.

When Stephen flings out his hands and feels the spell settle over New York, triumph sings through his veins. He turns and grins at Tony before gesturing out over the balcony.

The city is blanketed in the steady glow of millions of points of light in every color of the rainbow and a few there might not be proper words for. Tony lays both hands on the railing and stares out at them for a moment. “It’s beautiful,” he says. “What are they?”

“Souls,” Stephen says, and Tony jerks around to stare at him. “Those are visual representations of every soul in New York.”

Tony turns back to the view. “Jesus, Stephen,” he breathes. His breath catches and Stephen knows he’s spotted the hospital, where the combination of deaths and births almost seems to make it twinkle. 

Stephen steps up behind Tony and rests his hands lightly on Tony’s hips. He leans in so that he can murmur in Tony’s ear. “I’ve seen millions of souls, Tony. Perhaps hundreds of millions. And none of them approach yours.” Tony goes still under his hands. Stephen steps closer, almost pressing them together. “You are remarkable. Stunning. Unique. You captivate me. I want you to be mine.”

Tony turns to face him. Stephen doesn’t give him a chance to speak, just leans in and catches Tony’s mouth with his own. Tony moans softly, almost silently, and then kisses back, his arms sliding around Stephen and pulling them tight together. Stephen lifts his hands to cup Tony’s face, holding him steady as he deepens the kiss. 

It’s perfect, Tony is perfect, so warm and eager in his arms, so hungry and full of need. Stephen wants to fulfill every desire he has. For now he settles for kissing Tony breathless. He tangles their tongues together and sucks softly and feels his pulse pound through his whole body when Tony moans again, louder this time. 

When they finally part, they’re both panting, more from arousal than lack of air. “You’re unhinged, you know that, right?” Tony says, laughter lurking under the words, his arms still around Stephen. 

“You like it,” Stephen says, leaning in for another kiss.

“I do,” Tony murmurs against his mouth. “I do like it.”

It's Obsession verse (because I love it so so much): Someone carelessly insults one of them —it can be Stephen or Tony, whichever you prefer— and has to deal with the consequences of said action

Hope you're doing well, have a nice day n.n ✨🪐

I’m so sorry it took me so long to answer this one! For other people’s context, this person sent a prompt that was a little too long and I invited them to send a new one; I had intended to jump it over the queue since the original prompt was in queue, but… life happened. *wry* 

I hope this feels sufficiently like Obsession 'Verse! It's a little different in that it takes place outside of the context of their relationship still developing, but it is intended to be those versions of the characters.

Notice to folks who might be new: Obsession 'Verse is a darker version of IronStrange in which the two are (by a normal person's estimation) dangerously obsessed with each other. But it works for them.

-

The model—a man, someone Tony vaguely recognizes from his pre-Iron Man days—looks Stephen up and down and sniffs. “Don’t let him,” Tony, the man means, “fool you into thinking there’s something special about you. Everyone had a piece of him back in the day.” The model cuts his gaze over to Tony and sneers. “It wasn’t even a particularly good piece.”

Stephen stares at the man, his expression so icy that Tony slips an arm around him, as if that  could ever be enough to hold Stephen back. Tony doesn’t care about this asshole, but they are in public: if Stephen smites him the PR is going to be a nightmare. And, well, no one deserves to die for a mean comment.

Suddenly, Stephen smiles, though it doesn’t warm his expression one bit. He raises a hand and a mandala blooms. With a flick, it sails toward the model and strikes him right in the chest, where it glows for a moment before sinking into him. “That’ll last until you learn to be kinder to your lovers,” Stephen says coolly.  

Tony quickly steers them away before the situation can escalate. “Do I want to know what you did to him?” he hisses.

Stephen smirks. “Let’s just say that tonight he’s going to find something rather different in his pants than he expects. And again tomorrow. And again, until he’s learned his lesson.” 

The trend of these just getting longer continues. Almost 600 words this time. *facepalm*

-

Every six months or so, the City of New York holds a gala benefiting the “Superhuman Defense Fund.” There is some debate about whether the title refers to the superhumans doing the defense or those being defended against, but it doesn’t actually matter: the truth, tactfully unspoken, is that the fund is for addressing the damage (physical and otherwise) done by their battles. 

Strictly speaking, none of the city’s heroes are required to attend the gala and play dancing monkey for the wealthy benefactors, but those who make at least occasional appearances find dealing with the city, the press, and even the general public much more pleasant. The Avengers take turns. Stephen, as the only public representative of the Masters of the Mystic Arts, goes to all of them. The only bright spot in this particular duty is that Tony, as the most PR-savvy of all the Avengers, also goes to all of them.

From the moment he arrived, a part of Stephen has been tracking Tony through the room. Even now, in the middle of a conversation, Stephen is discreetly watching Tony. His smile is bright (and practiced), his charm slick (but not effortless). He weaves his way through the crowd, slipping skillfully from one attendee to the next. They trail after him like scavengers, the timid ones picking up the scraps of himself he leaves behind, while the aggressive ones pick at him with saccharine smiles and hands that pluck, uninvited, at his sleep or his shoulder or his waist, looking for a piece they can pull away. 

Stephen hates it. 

The entitlement. The way they don’t even see Tony as a person. The tightness it brings to Tony’s shoulders and the dimming of his bright spirit. Stephen has always hated it, but it’s worse, tonight, because he and Tony have become so much closer lately. And then Tony catches his eye, each of them looking over the shoulders of a stranger, and it’s not irritation or fatigue in Tony’s gaze, it’s resignation. 

Some barrier in Stephen gives way.

“Excuse me,” he murmurs, handing his drink to whoever it is he’s been speaking to and brushing past them. He crosses the room in long strides. Tony watches Stephen come, and the light is brightening in his eyes again. “Tony,” Stephen says, arriving at his side. He’s interrupting the conversation. He doesn’t care, just holds out his hand. “Dance with me.”

There are maybe a half dozen other couples dancing—that’s not why people come to these things—but Tony takes his hand without hesitation. Stephen leads him onto the dance floor and Tony settles into his arms easily, bodies intimately close. Closer than friends should hold each other, but Tony makes no move to pull away as Stephen leads him around the floor.

“Kind of poetic,” Tony says after a moment.

“Oh?” Stephen raises his eyebrows.

Tony smiles. “Putting an end to the dancing around by dancing,” he explains.

Stephen suppresses a shiver. “Is that what we’re doing?”

“You tell me,” Tony says, holding Stephen’s gaze. “You’re the one who descended like a knight in shining armor and swept me away.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” Stephen murmurs, but his grip tightens. 

Tony leans in close, his lips brushing Stephen’s ear. “Just because you’re leading doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Stephen catches his breath, a flush of heat rushing through him, skin tingling. Tony pulls back, meeting Stephen’s gaze, eye dark and intent. 

Apparently these are just going to keep getting longer. *facepalm*

Important note: This is a relationship dynamic I find fun to play with in fic. IRL, it is super unhealthy.

-

It’s only been a month or so since Tony started poking at Stephen’s reported obsession, but he has to admit he’s getting impatient. There have been hints—the light in Stephen’s eyes when he soaks up the minutia Tony’s been sharing about his life, his willingness to delay anything short of a life threatening emergency in Tony’s favor—but nothing really over the line.

Until the next time Tony ends up in medical.

It’s a precautionary scan. The armor had taken the blows just the way it was meant to, and FRIDAY’s sensors said he was fine. But since he’d been dizzy briefly, the team insisted that he have an actual medical scan interpreted by an actual medical doctor, and when he relents, it’s Stephen that’s waiting for him. 

Stephen’s not supposed to be there. He’s not technically an Avenger, and the compound has their own doctors, but Tony makes no objection, just strips to his underwear—the scanner can work through clothes, but it’s more accurate if it doesn’t have to—and hops onto the scanning bed. 

Stephen is coolly professional all through the scan and his examination of the results. Tony sees his shoulders relax and knows the scan has come up clear. When Stephen turns back to him, a distinctly unprofessional intensity has entered his eyes. He sweeps his gaze over Tony. “You’re fine,” Stephen says aloud. “No new scars for your collection.”

It’s an odd comment. Tony had no reason to worry about scarring. “That’s good,” he comments. “God knows I have enough. I don’t even remember where some of them come from. Like this one.” He taps a burn on his thigh. It’s a lie: he remembers it perfectly.

“Atom Smasher, 2014,” Stephen says. Then he stills. 

There’s no reason for him to know that.

Tony waits until Stephen looks at him and captures his gaze. “And this one?” he asks, tapping his arm. It’s an old scar. Faded almost to invisibility.

Stephen licks his lips nervously. “You were 10. A gash from something uneven. I don’t know what.”

Because that’s not in Tony’s records. Tony doesn’t look away. “I was trimming metal. A piece snapped off unexpectedly.” Stephen nods, and Tony knows he’s filing that away. “Do you know them all?”

“All the ones there are records for,” Stephen says. His voice is low, confidential, but it's not a confession. 

Tony’s heart is pounding, but he keeps his cool. Just nods. “Are you always going to be here when I need a doctor?”

“Yes,” Stephen says fiercely, and oh, there’s the possessive edge Tony has been looking for. Then his expression turns pained. “As much as I can,” he amends, because they both know there will be times when he’s not available. 

“How about I make you my primary care doctor on my paperwork, then?” Tony says. “So you’re always in the loop.”

Stephen looks at Tony long enough that he thinks Stephen might ask him if he’s sure. If this is a good idea. But when he finally speaks, he says, “Yes. Do that.”

This is a bit of an experiment. I have an idea that I think would work well as a series of drabbles—probably more like triple drabbles. People will be welcome to prompt in this universe, but I have to get it set up first. I’ll be sprinkling these in between the prompted drabbles, so if it isn’t your cup of tea, no worries, regular drabbles will also be around.

Important note: This is a relationship dynamic I find fun to play with in fic. IRL, it is super unhealthy. 

-

Tony isn’t sure what to expect when Stephen’s friend Christine asks him to coffee. He and Stephen have been getting friendly, but they aren’t at the “meet your other friends” stage, and it obviously wasn’t a date.

Fortunately, she doesn’t make him wade through small talk to find out. They’ve been seated for maybe five seconds when she blurts out, “You and Stephen have been getting pretty close lately.”

“We’re friends,” Tony agrees, “but ‘pretty close’ might be an exaggeration.” For some reason, she winces. Tony sips his coffee and waits.

“Stephen and I dated on and off for a couple of years,” Christine says. “Has he mentioned that?”

Tony shakes his head. “No.”

Christine doesn’t smile. “He wouldn’t. Stephen in a relationship is… focused.” She pauses, turning her coffee cup in circles. “I shouldn’t sugarcoat it. Stephen in a relationship is possessive. Clingy in a way that can get scary. He’s the kind of partner that wants to know where you are at all times and every tiny detail about you. He wants to do everything together. He’s… not big on privacy, either.”

“Christine,” Tony says carefully, “Stephen and I are just friends.”

“I know,” she says, “but the way he talks about you… It’s worse than he was with me. More intense. He’s obsessed. It sounds like he’s controlled himself around you, but I’m not sure if that’ll last. I’ve never seen him like this before.”

The frisson of interest that goes through Tony is entirely inappropriate. “I appreciate the heads up,” he says aloud. Christine looks relieved. Tony almost feels guilty about the way he’s turning ‘obsessed’ over in his mind. 

People are interested in Tony’s money, or his inventions, or his influence. They’re rarely interested in him.

The idea that someone could be obsessed is… 

This one is behind a read more because, while there isn't anything explicit in it, there is reference to sexual themes. Also, this went over my self-imposed 300 word limit, because I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it and 300 words wasn’t enough. Oh well.

Important note: This is a relationship dynamic I find fun to play with in fic. IRL, it is super unhealthy.