Avengers Imagines (Part One)

Stephen Strange X Stark!Reader - Take me or Leave me.

A/N- This imagine is based on the song 'Take me or Leave me' from the musical RENT. The reader in this story is Tony Stark's younger sister. It's a little short and ended up a lot angrier and fightier than intended. I hope you all enjoy it.

You had been in the spotlight for as long as you could remember. Constantly being surveyed by the not-always-so-loving public. Your brother had attempted to keep you sheltered from it when you were younger, but soon enough even he couldn't keep the preying cameras from prying into your private life.  

It had started out when you were in high school. A photo taken by some sneaky paparazzi when you were taking a drag from your first ever cigarette. And then a few months later when you were caught drinking wine from the bottle with your friends. The front pages of the celebrity gossip magazines had attempted to lecture you, but you had always been aware of their intention to keep you as the problem child of the Stark household.  

You had become rather good at spotting the camera's after that, avoiding any more controversy and replacing it with the sweet, good girl image that you had clung to throughout your young adult life.  

In all honesty, you quite enjoyed the attention, when the stories being spun remained positive. 'Y/N Stark turns heads at New York Fashion Week in stunning Gucci gown.' 'Cleaning up her brother's act: Y/N Stark seen cleaning up the streets after Manhattan mayhem.'  You had to admit that it was flattering to hear people celebrating you.

When you had first started dating Stephen the front pages had gone wild, attempting to identify the handsome man on your arm. And as much as he protested, you could tell he enjoyed the attention too.

"Look at this rubbish." Stephen had been agitated all morning, refusing to tell you what was bothering him, until now. He slid his phone across the coffee table to you, and you chuckled as you read the headline. 'Y/N's Mr Mystery: Cute or Cooky?'

"That one isn't even clever," you chuckled, shaking your head as you slid the phone back to him. "Is that what's got you all-" you gestured at him slightly, "-stressed out, baby?"

"I'm not stressed out," he bit back, "but they write about me like they think I don't know how to read."

Your smile fell from your lips as you stared at him. "Hey," you started, attempting to keep you voice soft and comforting, "don't get mad at me... I didn't write it."

"No, but you-"

"Finish that sentence, I dare you." You ran your tongue over your teeth, sitting up from your position on the sofa and staring him in the eyes.

"You like it when they talk about you. I don't."

You scoffed as you got to your feet. "Don't lie to yourself, you love it too," you paused for a moment, "you just can't handle it when they stop being nice about you."

"Do you not realise how fucked up it is that you think it's weird to be upset by someone saying mean shit about you?" 

"You're being a dick," you stated simply, shaking your head and moving quickly into the kitchen.

Stephen snorted with laughter. "I thought you could handle people being mean to you." You sent him a quick glare, watching as he smiled at you. 

"Quit being such a fucking child."

Stephen laughed. "Me? a child?" He shook his head. "Fucking rich coming from you. You can't even make a decision without worrying about what all these fucking strangers think of you."

"Get out." You spat it so suddenly that Stephen looked taken about. "You heard me, get out of my fucking house."  When he didn't move, you shoved his shoulder, forcing him out of the kitchen and into the living room. 

"Y/N," all sense of fight was gone from Stephen's voice when he spoke again.

"No," you paused for a moment, "don't you dare." 

"Baby, please."

You shook your head, "don't fucking 'baby' me. You don't get to do that right now." You both stood silently for a moment, your eyes flitting everywhere but towards Stephen, who still looked hurt. "I'm sorry that you can't handle my life, but I'm not going to stand here and be belittled for it every time someone hurts your feelings." 

"I didn't mean-" Stephen trailed off. "I love you, and the stuff that comes with you is just something I need to get used to."

Stephen took a step towards you, lifting his hand to run his fingertips over the bare skin of your arm. "You can't keep taking this shit out on me."

"I won't." Stephen's voice was thick with tears. "I promise you, I'll figure it out." He leaned in, as if to kiss you, and you quickly dodged him, feeling his lips come into contact with your cheek. 

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