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strawwritesfic · 1 year

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Tony Stark x Female!Childhood Friend!Reader: Brightest [Ch. 17]

Summary: [F Name] [L Name]: Tony’s Stark’s “invisible friend.” She’s invisible in all the wrong ways–at least until Tony spots her years after telling her to get out of his life. With Yinsen’s words in mind, Tony decides to pursue their lost relationship, only to find that [Name] might not be as willing as before. What Tony doesn’t know, however, is that the confusion of her life might end up the best of his.

Ratings/Warnings/Tags: M (love triangles; friends with benefits; sexual situations; non-consensual sex with a significant other (note: I will mark this specific chapter accordingly); cheating on significant other portrayed in a positive light; verbal abuse from parents and significant others; toxic relationships of several kinds; rumors of an inappropriate relationship between an older man and his son’s teenage friend; set in between Iron Man 2 and Avengers (2012); references to characters not yet established in the MCU as of time of writing)

Pairings: Tony Stark/Reader; Justin Hammer/Reader; Tony Stark/Reader/Justin Hammer; Pepper Potts/Happy Hogan; past!Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Tag List: @imaginesfire; @frostay; @downeyreads; @angelcakes12332; @sleep-i-ness; @jkknoxvilles

Master List

Chapter 17: The Prettiest Girls

Your reflection in the mirror the following morning startled you. Back and forth you paraded in front of the glass for the hour and a half or so that it had taken you to get ready to spend the rest of your day taking photographs for your gallery. You hadn't done anything major, just showered and applied makeup and put on regular clothes as usual.

Okay, so maybe you'd dressed up a little, knowing that Tony would see you briefly in this getup. Putting on your "photography costume" while still inside your parents' home was out of the question. Still, anyone who knew you—the real you, the you not gearing up for a magazine shoot for your father or prepped for another interview that would inevitably turn to questions about your sordid relationship with an older man—wouldn't call this "dressed up." You hadn't exactly donned a ball gown for the occasion; you'd simply forgone your usual no-one-important-is-seeing-me-today standard of sweatpants and a tank top.

But it wasn't your clothes or your face or your hair that startled you about the woman staring at you from the mirror. What was it? Leaning in, you examined yourself from every angle. Nothing seemed different. Your skin had the same blemishes and your forehead the same wrinkles. You even had a zit in a familiar place. On the other hand, your shoulders looked a little straighter. Something in your eyes sparkled. You weren't huddling in on yourself like you usually did before you strode out of your room to discover just what you'd done wrong with yourself this time.

What was it that your mother had accused you of yesterday? Being so happy that someone was bound to notice? Could that be it? Could the significant change in your appearance be chalked up to a sudden influx of happiness?

The blaring tone of your text alert put an end to any further musings on this subject. You leaped as though the noise were a gunshot, all thoughts of happier girls being prettier girls flying far afield. Who could be texting you so early in the morning? A quick mental run-through of the short list of people who bothered texting you at all only made you worry more. Your mother never got out of bed before eleven if she could help it. Your father wouldn't bother resuming speaking relations without being there in person to yell at you. Rhodey wasn't a texter.

You didn't need to be the genius your father wished you were to know just what you would find on that screen once you picked up the phone. Tony wanted to cancel. Of course he did. Why on earth would he want to spend time doing anything with you that didn't involve lackluster sex? Photography was your hobby, and a lousy one at that. He had better things to do with his time than help a mediocre photographer with her work. You should never have pestered him with an invitation. If he hadn't desperately wanted a shower with you, he never would have agreed to join you on today's expedition in the first place.

The dread built up higher and higher in your chest the longer you stood there staring at your phone. You forced yourself to scoop it off the table before the text alert could chime again, but you could go no further. You couldn't look. You had to. You couldn't. You would. Showing up and waiting for him for hours when he had no intention of showing up would only look more pathetic. One gulp seemed to squish your anxiety down just the notch you needed. Only after that did you peek at the screen.

Good morning, Sleeping Beauty, read the message punctuated by a sparkling heart.

Since when had Tony started calling you by the name of specific princesses? As you frowned at this text, another came in:

[Name]? Hellooooo? It's about time to get out of bed, don't you think?

Why was Tony so concerned you wouldn't make it to your prearranged meeting spot on time? You'd never been late to anything having to do with him before.

Are you sleeping? Or are you just too busy to bother talking to me again?

That was when the name above the messages finally caught your eye. Justin was the one giving you a wake-up call. You really needed to pay more attention to the little details, preferably before failing to do so gave you a heart attack. But for once, seeing your boyfriend's attempt to contact you flooded you with relief. Tony wasn't canceling on you after all!

You unlocked your phone to reply, but Justin didn't give you the time to formulate an answer.

What is it that's got you so busy these days anyway? I know your dad kicked you off the project. It's not like you've got anything important going on. Would it kill you to check in with me every once in a while? I haven't heard anything in over a week!

Had it really been that long since you called Justin? Your thumbs froze mere millimeters above the keypad as your mind whirred. No matter how hard you racked your brain—or how far down you scrolled through your recent calls list—you could find nothing to prove him wrong. So caught up in your real project (and finding new places to have sex with Tony) had you been that you'd simply stopped trying to get ahold of your actual boyfriend.

A surge of guilt washed over you from head to toe. Could there be a worse girlfriend anywhere? Sure, you were sleeping around behind Justin's back with his worst enemy, so you really didn’t have a leg to stand on to begin with—but, as your mother had pointed out, that was only a temporary dalliance! The least you could do while this was going on was to make sure your real boyfriend was doing all right from time to time!

Justin, you started to type. You're absolutely—

Hey, do you mind if we get together about an hour early?

This new text did come from Tony. It did not immediately quell your fear that he, too, found your interests too silly to indulge any longer. Your unsent apology to Justin forgotten, you quickly responded to Tony instead:

Why? Do you have something else to do? You don't have to come if you don't want to.

Nice try. You're not getting rid of me that easily, he answered, then followed up with, I just had a great idea is all.

What kind of great idea?

A great surprise idea.

I'm not sure I'm up for one of your “surprises” this early in the morning.

[Name], it's past nine. It's not that early. And anyway, it's not THAT kind of surprise this time around.

You make plans regarding other stuff?

Occasionally. Otherwise, the government would have a completely different reason to want to get their greasy paws on my armor.

Hello??? [Name]???? Justin fired off several rapid texts in succession. Are you ignoring me????

Oh, right! You'd been trying to make amends with Justin before Tony distracted you. Justin must have seen that you had read his text and wondered why you weren't rushing to explain yourself to him.

My surprise has to do with our work. If I can pick you up early, we can start exactly when you wanted to, Tony said.

Honestly, I don't understand what's gotten into you lately. It's like you've turned into someone else. What happened to my sweet little [Name]?

What had happened to Justin's sweet little [Name], you wondered. Your reflection in the mirror certainly seemed to say you'd turned into someone else. You thought you'd only made improvements, but would Justin still love you when he came back from Queens? And how could you tell him how those changes came to be made?

So are you in or are you out? Tony asked.

Your thumbs hovered in place once more. This hesitation only lasted for half a second, though, before you swapped back to your conversation with Tony and quickly typed back: I'm in.

******

JARVIS didn't need to alert Tony to your reply. Tony still grasped his phone in his hand when your answer to his suggestion came shooting back. You were in. A breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding escaped from his chest the moment he saw that. Every day the same scene played out as he waited for you realize what a bad choice he was—but today was not that day. Today you still wanted to speak to him.

"Sir—"

"Yeah, I see it, JARVIS. Thanks. Hey, Pepper."

Tony slipped back inside his lab to find it completely unchanged from when he stepped out to text you minutes before. Over by the largest table in the room stood one of his closest friends, her hand on her chin as she observed the enormous holographic tower blueprint hovering mere inches from her face. Pepper looked up, however, when she heard him speak her name.

"Yes?" she asked.

Tony held up his cell phone. "Heard back from [Name]. She's agreed to meet me a little earlier than we planned this morning, so..."

"So let me guess: You want to me to fetch myself a clean toothbrush and make myself scarce before she gets here."

"Exactly. Minus the toothbrush. I think I've gone through the bulk supply you got me."

Pepper cocked her head to one side and regarded him in that way that only she could. Tony felt as though he were being x-rayed for any inappropriate motivations for skipping out on a business meeting. Then:

"All right," she said, picked up her purse off the floor, and swung it over her shoulder.

"Thanks." Tony opened the door for her before her acceptance hit him. "Wait. That's it?"

"What's it?"

"No argument? No snide remark about my behavior around women? No reminder that the board of directors is out for blood and no amount of garlic will keep them away from me?"

"Tony, you're a grown adult. You don't need me to remind you to do your homework, or wash behind your ears, or to not mix colors when you do the laundry."

"Actually, a reminder for the last one every so often probably wouldn't go amiss."

"Besides," Pepper went on, without acknowledging she'd probably seen his handful of newly-pink dress shirts waiting for ironing on her way to the lab, "we've done enough work this morning that I can let you play hooky the rest of the day. And I like [Name]. I think it's good that you're spending time with her."

"You do?"

"Well, not if my saying so makes you want to spend less time with her. What?" she added when Tony snorted.

"Nothing. She thinks I'll do whatever you say to make you happy. You think I only do the opposite of what you say to drive you crazy. I just can't please anybody, can I?"

"Why does [Name] think you always do what I tell you?"

"Probably something to do with you being so desperate for some peace and quiet that you're willing to send me all the way across the country."

"Is that what you told her? Tony, you know very well that I want you on the clean energy project in Manhattan because you're the best man for the job."

Tony shot her a knowing look.

"And it would be nice to not worry so much about what you're doing in your retirement," she allowed.

"Well, whatever the reason, [Name]'s not crazy about me moving to New York just because you think it's a good idea."

"And her opinion matters to you?"

"Of course it does. I mean," Tony did not like the little smile on Pepper's face, "not as much as how much of a hassle it's going to be to move all my armor up there without anyone noticing. [Name] and I aren't anything serious. Once we're done with our project, she'll be glad to see the back of me, and I'll be ready to sing Sinatra whenever you say the word."

"Really." She didn't allow him to get a single word out to retort. "Be that as it may, I think it's sweet that you're helping her put together a photo gallery."

"Yes, real—who told you about the photo gallery?" Tony asked.

"Rhodey told me."

"Of course he did. Guess you got all my friends in the divorce," he grumbled.

Pepper's smile widened before she leaned in and kissed Tony once on the cheek, much to his surprise. "I'm just glad you're happy, Tony."

"Me, too. I'm glad you're happy, too. You are happy. Aren't you?"

"Yes, Tony. I'm very happy." She stepped into the hallway leading to the stairs at last. "And now I'm going to leave before [Name] shows up. Maybe I'll pick up some coffee for Happy on the way to work, since I have a little extra time."

"He'd like that. Goodbye, Pepper."

"Talk to you soon, Tony."

She vanished quickly up the steps. Tony listened as the sound of her heels faded to the floor level of the house, then disappeared entirely when she exited through the front door. Pepper was gone. For the first time in what felt like ages, he didn't feel bad about her going either. But he didn't have long to think about what might be behind this change in attitude. He had a few things to put together before you arrived.

******

Something was wrong. You couldn't put your finger on what exactly, but nothing around you felt real. Maybe you'd fallen asleep after you got to Tony's house, and everything since had been a dream. Perhaps you'd never arrived at your destination to begin with. Could it be you'd got knocked on the head by someone suspicious of your activities before you'd even left your own home? What were the chances that you'd simply died and somehow earned a happy afterlife?

You could not have asked for a more exceptional morning. The sun shone so brightly that your surroundings disappeared into a haze on the edges. Cool but not cold, you could smell the sea salt on the breeze without its scent overpowering that of the boxes upon boxes upon boxes of sugary doughnuts sitting in the back of Tony's pickup truck stationed in the lot of your favorite photography-taking park.

(Yes, Tony's pickup truck. A modest one, too. "What?" he had asked at your obvious shock at seeing something a normal person would drive pulled from his garage. "It's my getting-out-of-town-unseen car. Rhodey went camping last week, so I asked him to take the truck and not bother cleaning it when he gave it back.")

Around this plethora of breakfast treats gathered a crowd of people. Some wore exercise gear in pristine, eye-searing colors. Plenty others wore casual outdoorsy clothes. Most, however, wore a patchwork in varying colors of fading, gray, or dirt. All of them had been coming and going since you and Tony had set up camp—a few people more than once.

"Hey."

Caught daydreaming instead of paying attention once more, you looked up, hot-faced, to see one such gentleman standing in front of your table. He had on multiple layers of old clothing. The moment your eyes met his, he went on without waiting for you to acknowledge him:

"You saying I have to sign one of these before I can have another doughnut?" He pointed to a stack of permission forms resting on the table next to your elbow.

"Oh, no, sir!" You couldn't scramble out of your fold-out chair fast enough. "Please, take a doughnut! If there's a picture of you here and you don't want it to be used in my art gallery, then don't sign anything. You can just point it out to me, and I'll destroy all my copies of it as soon as I get home."

The man narrowed his gray eyes at the line of photographs on your table. You held your breath. He would not be the first person to yell at you that day, nor would he likely be the last. But you would keep your word and get rid of anything he told you to, whether the subject of the picture looked like him or not. After a few seconds, he snorted and rejoined the throng around the back of Tony's truck.

"Do you even have a picture of that guy?" you heard someone behind you ask. When you looked over your shoulder, you found Tony standing there. "That's about the sixth time he's come over here to ask...and the fifteenth doughnut he's left with," Tony added as the man headed off toward the public restrooms.

"Maybe he's not sure if he wants to give me permission yet. And it's not like you didn't bring enough food for everyone, plus some."

"I don't care how much food he leaves with. It's more about his tone. You're trying to help him out, but he clearly thinks you're up to something."

"I really don't mind. He has every right to be suspicious."

"Yeah, you really look like you're into something nefarious. Money laundering via doughnuts is a crime on the rise in this city, I hear."

"He doesn't know me from Eve," you said. "He might not even know that I took his picture, if I did."

"He could still quit accusing you of bribery."

You let out an incredulous laugh. "Tony, this was all your idea."

"Which just goes to show you that even I come with duds once in a blue moon."

"Well, I think it was brilliant. We need permission to feature the photographs, and now no one goes home hungry. It doesn't matter to me if no one else agrees to let me use their image. A small gallery is better than no gallery at all."

"You only think I'm brilliant. I've blinded you with my good looks and charm."

"I don't think that's it," you said with some feeling. "This really means a lot to me. Thank you, Tony."

"Anything to make you smile, Princess."

Something about Tony's mouth looked different when he used his nickname for you that day. This you could put a finger on: It wasn't his usual sardonic smile. He just grinned, causing your heart to jump straight into your throat. You swallowed it back down at once. What were you thinking? Of course it was still sardonic! If you waited around much longer, he'd probably follow it up with a suggestion to try out car sex in a pickup. Worse still, he might figure out how easily his smile made you weak at the knees. Then he'd pack up, drive away, and ruin an otherwise perfect day.

Before any of that could happen, you moved to put the plastic table between the two of you.

"Could you man the permission slips for a few minutes?" God, you hoped your voice didn't sound as high-pitched to him as it did to you. "I need to go talk to someone really quick."

You didn't wait to hear his reply, though you thought you heard a note of confused acquiescence from his general direction as you stumbled away from the horde jostling around his vehicle.

Away from all the people and noise, you could breathe a little easier. Strange how it took longer for you to get to that point nowadays—and how much more quickly you could come down from it. You slowed from a trot to a walk as you took several deep breaths in and out. Even the air smelled wonderful that day. Above your head, the sun didn't look like it had moved a single inch since your and Tony's arrival. At least another hour of joy lay ahead of you—and more literally ahead of you along the sidewalk you stood on lay the only person other than Tony that you wanted to see.

Gladys sat on a peeling park bench and didn't look up at your approach. A flock of scraggly brown birds hopped around her feet, peeping for and pecking at the remains of the doughnut she held in one gnarled hand. She threw another handful of crumbs without bothering to look up at you. This went on for a couple of minutes before you summoned up the courage to politely clear your throat.

"Hey," you said, a little awkwardly.

"Finally remembered I exist, have you?" was Gladys's reply.

"I never forgot you." You plunked yourself down on the bench next to her. When she didn't protest, you took that as permission to stick around. "I've been running the permission table. Thanks for spreading the word, by the way. I've got about twenty signatures thanks to you."

"Uh-huh."

Another few minutes passed in silence while Gladys fed the birds. You didn't speak up. Having someone to be with that didn't want to verbally spar all the time felt good...although you couldn't help sneaking looks over at Tony every handful of seconds. This your friend noticed. When you looked back at her for the sixth or so time, she had finished with the doughnut and now stared straight at you.

"What?" you asked.

"Guess I can't blame you for being distracted," she said. "That boyfriend of yours is pretty hot."

So were your cheeks after that comment. "He is not my boyfriend."

"Sure he's not. I may not be the smartest person you know, but I've seen a lot of children in love in my day."

"We are definitely not in love."

You must have said that in a convincing enough tone, because Gladys broke out into a loud laugh. "Just sex, then? I wouldn't have known you had it in you!"

"You and me both," you muttered, but this didn't put a dent in her smile.

"Good for you, [Name]. Good for you. He looks like Tony Stark, so he has to be pretty good in bed!"

"He—what?"

"You know, I wonder if he is Tony Stark. Sure looks like him. But you'd tell me if you were dating Tony Stark. Wouldn't you?"

"I can assure you she is not dating Tony Stark."

Once more, then man in question seemed to materialize out of thin air right in front of you. Even Gladys jumped at the suddenness of his appearance.

"Not that I'm offended by the comparison. He's a handsome man." Tony caught your eye, grinned, and added, "Would Tony Stark really be slumming around handing out free doughnuts with his side piece on his day off? I think his women are usually a little higher class than that. Sonny Frisco. Good to meet you," he added as he offered Gladys his hand.

"I suppose you have a point," Gladys said, eyeing the hand suspiciously.

Tony didn't press the point. Instead, he just handed her a small stack of doughnuts he had carried over. "Saw you were low on bird food over here, so I brought you some more. [Name] tells me that's your favorite activity."

"She does?"

"Yeah. She talks about you all the time. It's a real honor to finally meet you."

Gladys looked a little confused, but her suspicion was clearly evaporating rapidly. You could only assume that Tony had the same effect on most people, even when they didn't know who they were talking to. She took the doughnuts from him as she threw an incredulous look at you. Good grief. Alias or no, he couldn't suppress his charm. If you didn't act now, someone would figure out who Sonny Frisco really was.

"You've done a lot for me, Gladys," you said. "Are you sure you won't come to the gallery opening?"

But she had already gotten up to pack her extra doughnuts into her shopping cart. That was answer enough. "I'd just cramp your style. See you around, [Name]. And you," she barked at Tony, who straightened at once. "Even if it is just sex, you hurt this girl, you won't be welcome around here anymore. I don't care how good-looking you are. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal, ma'am," he answered.

"Good. Thanks for the bird food."

Gladys bid you her normal farewell of a brisk nod before setting off down the path. You stood to watch her go. Though you hadn't expected Gladys to accept your invitation—she'd feel out of place, and any offer on your part to dress her up for the occasion would only offend her—you couldn't help but feel a little disappointed as you watched her go. Any aspect of your gallery that Tony hadn't provided, she had. It only seemed right for her to be there, too.

Did Tony sense your mood? He wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled you closer. "She's really something, isn't she?"

"Yeah," you said. "She is."

It did not take long for Gladys to disappear from your field of vision. At least the weather would be good for her that night. After a moment or two of looking at the point at which she'd vanished, Tony kissed the side of your head and let you go.

"Ready to get back to work, Princess?" he asked.

You replied by breaking out of his grip and running back toward the table. A short respite had been all you needed. The more work you did, the better for Gladys—and the better for you. You had Tony all to yourself until your gallery was over and done with. While the day was beautiful, while he'd kiss you at random, and while you felt like you were lighting up from the inside, you wanted to keep going for as long as possible. Happiest girls were the prettiest girls, after all, and you had never felt more beautiful.

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