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stevetonyweekly · 2 years ago

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SteveTony Weekly - December 2nd

Hey, y’all! Here’s what I read over the past two weeks. Enjoy and be sure to give your author a comment & kudos!

immutable as gravity by Areiton

There’s something about flying that he can’t explain.

There’s a freedom to it that he’s never felt, anywhere else, doing anything else.

It’s like inventing and the best first kiss of his life, like anything is possible, as he hovers between earth and space, and only the strength of his bird around him.

There’s other things in his life that have been better--but he can count them on one hand and still have fingers leftover.

it might just have been you by Areiton

"You have the whole world in front of you, Tony," Steve says, slowly. "When you get off this boat, there's nothing to stop you from living the life you want. If that's as a mechanic with a nice Alpha--you can have that. Just because what you grew up with is trash, doesn't mean that all alphas are. You can still have exactly what you want."

Tony laughs, and it feels brittle, sharp, cutting at his throat as it spills between them. "There aren't nice Alphas, Captain. No one is nice enough to walk away from a billion dollar fortune for someone like me."

"I would," Steve says, and it feels like a confession, like something he doesn't mean to share, and all the more precious for it.

It Takes a Village (or a team of superheroes) by aven_garde

Three months after the Chitauri attack, Tony received a phone call that changed his life. (Or, the one in which a group of remarkable people come together and balance battling villains and raising a child).

Harrowed Beginnings to a Familial Pack by Arminius461

Steve is the sweetest, gentlest alpha in existence, completely in control of his instincts. After a mission goes south, he's suddenly affected by an unknown substance, making his instincts rage. He needs to be with his omega and pup. The only problem is that Tony is out at Peter’s science fair, and Steve and Tony don’t have a pup of their own…

Baby, Just Say Yes by betheflame

In a world where Tony's life looks a lot like Taylor Swift's, Steve realizes there always more to omegas than meets the eye.

a fool for you by earliebirb

“I keep telling you, you should tell him how you feel.”

“Stop talking nonsense. It’s against protocol,” Steve says, eyes once again staring longingly at Stark, who is listening attentively to whatever Potts is saying.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “As if Stark ever cared about that.”

Just when Bucky thinks that the conversation is dead, just like the million other times Steve has shut Bucky down whenever he attempts to talk some sense into his best friend, Steve says in a quiet voice:

“Besides… they’re engaged.”

rearrange my heart (to fit your smile) by starklystar

"You dare," Howard's chair makes an ugly noise as it scrapes against the stone floors, the chatter of the room shifting into hushed whispers and stolen glances. "I am your father and your King!"

"My King is my husband," Tony tips his chin up, defiant. "And I refuse to hear you suggest that my husband has been anything other than good to me."

Next to him, he feels Steve's shoulders stiffen in surprise.

Howard's fist slams loud on the table. "Your husband does not even love you!"

Tony jerks back, burned. He knows that. Knows that Steve did not marry him for love – does not need any reminder of the cold truth, of what he desperately yearns for and can't even hope to have – but the harshness of Howard's words was scalding, and Tony can't afford for this to go any further.

Humbugs and Heart by MountainRose

Tony's hurt, and there's only one place Jarvis knows he'll be safe. At least they have met the man, or this would be exceedingly awkward.

(It's not awkward, Steve would never make this awkward.)

For AngeNoir as part of the 2015 Captain America/Iron Man Holiday Exchange. I hope you like it, ;)

There's A History Between Us (and people think it's mine) by IamShadow21

A moment is all it takes to open up the box and confirm his suspicion.

“I think you're right, Cap,” Tony says. “This isn't my area.”

don't dream it's over by robertdowneyjjr

Steve thought they were happy. That their relationship was going strong, and they had forever ahead of them.

But apparently Tony thought otherwise.

There he was, like double cherry pie by Wolfsheart

Five times Tony comes into the bakery to flirt with Steve, and the one time Steve goes to the garage to flirt with Tony.

love can do some damage by parkrstark

Steve knew he was different since he was a little boy growing up with Bucky, and girls didn't make him feel the same way they made Bucky feel. There were only two people who ever knew: Bucky and his ma. And he planned to keep it that way. "They'll throw us in jail. If we're lucky."

Steve had heard horror stories of castration, life in jail, and even death.

"They won't throw me in jail for murdering thousands, but they'll throw us in jail for kissing? Seems kinda backwards." Tony leaned in for another kiss, and God did Steve want it. "'Sides. I know the Sheriff. He wouldn't throw us in jail."

Last Stop Before Malibu by justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday)

Steve stands under the hot sun, hoping that the next trucker to roll in will bring him enough money to eat tonight, enough to save a little, to get out of this place and go somewhere new.

What he doesn't expect, is to meet a man who changes everything.

When Tony leaves, Steve follows and finds a place in his home, his bed, and maybe, his heart.

Nobody Panic, Everything's Fine by itsallAvengers

Steve doesn't get jealous. He doesn't. Honestly.

It's just...well- Tony's been spending an awful lot of time with a new employee. Who's smarter than him. And funnier. And more interesting and generally a better match for Tony than he ever would be.

But he's not jealous. Honestly.

Drawn to You by jellybeanforest

In a world where what one writes on one’s own skin appears on their soulmate’s body in exactly the same place until it’s washed off or fades, no one has ever responded to Steve’s questions written in pen.

Who are you?

Where are you?

And once, out of sheer desperation: Wer bist du?

He has tried writing up and down both arms then across his stomach in pictograms when he reckons that perhaps his soulmate is a double amputee and illiterate, but nothing. No response. He is uncertain why he is so surprised. Everything else about Steve is broken, so why not his soul?

But when he points the Valkyrie downwards to crash into the deep, knowing he is about to die, he spares a few precious seconds to scribble one last message to his possibly-nonexistent, potentially-blind soulmate.

Twenty-five years later, Tony Stark is born with a single phrase on his left forearm written in messy old-fashioned script. And as he grows up, the words never change:

“I love you”

It is both a blessing and a curse.

Remix of “the words written on our skin” by Cathalinaheart. For the 2020 Cap-IronMan Remix Madness.

Operation Spank Bank by fohatic

Tony really shouldn't be hacking into classified SHIELD files behind Steve's back. Steve is a SHIELD agent, now—as well as Tony's captain—and this sort of thing reflects badly on him. So why is there a locked file titled "Operation Spank Bank" on Tony's private OS? And why hasn't Steve been briefed about any such operation?

The file is password protected, but Steve has an eidetic memory and has seen Tony enter it, before -- it would serve Tony right if Steve were to 'hack the hacker' and learn for himself what "Operation Spank Bank" is all about...

There's an App for That by Annie D (scaramouche)

Thanks to the modern gig economy, Steve is the successful owner of a break-up service, i.e. people pay him to break up with their partners for them. One day, he gets the first break-up request for Tony Stark.

(what is hate) but jilted love by LemonGrenade

After a messy mission, Tony winds up injured and unfit for duty. To keep the press and anyone else overly interested in the current post-Accords Avengers unaware, Tony elects to hide from the public eye at his cabin in the Canadian wilderness. His plan is simple: lay low and work on his projects until he's recovered enough to make it back.

And then Steve shows up.

with a decent happiness by torigates

Tony Stark is Iron Man. Steve Rogers isn't, and never was Captain America.

Or, the one where everything is the same except Steve is a kindergarten teacher.

Star-joined Lovers by Ellster

Decades apart two boys are born with identical stars on their chests. As they find each other, their marks come into color.

In Our Arms by tinystark616

Having a threesome with Mark 42 was Tony's idea. Of course, he enjoys watching Steve with the suit more than he thought he would.

your heart breaks in my chest by deathsweetqueen

Steve Rogers was never more happy the day that his soulmark came in, but it led to nothing but disappointment and shame when his soulmate ignored everything he scribbled across his arm; as the years went by, the reason became unmistakable: why would his soulmate want a weak, wretched little thing like him?

Tony Stark was born bitter cold, like he was made of hailstone, and when his soulmark carved itself across his pulse point, he realised why; so, what is his life worth, what could it ever be worth, when his soulmate is dead and he would never have been worthy of him had he been alive anyway?

Patriarch by spqr

Steve ducks into the hall and comes back with a warm, freshly-laundered towel, which feels so good when he wraps it around Tony’s shoulders that he almost lets out a moan. “There we go,” Steve says. “Don’t want you to catch cold.”

“Thanks, daddy,” Tony quips, because he’s an idiot.

Except Steve’s close enough, his hands wrapped around Tony’s biceps through the towel, that Tony can feel his full-body shudder.

#tony stark #steve rogers #stony #stevetony weekly #stevetony #iron man #captain america #stevetony fic #stony fic #fic rec

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areiton · 5 days ago

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have you ever watched or read the handmaid's tale? if so, thoughts on a stevetony omegaverse au take on it? i feel like it could be a fun read.

Hey Nonnie! So first--thanks for the ask!! I love things like this, even though I'm about to ramble in the wrong direction for a bit. Please send me more thoughts and ideas you'd like me to expand upon--like the space stevetony!! In this case--it's giving me an excuse to talk about a thing I've spent the past few months thinking about.

Second--yes! I read The Handmaid's Tale years and years ago--right after I finished reading the first two Hunger Games books, while waiting for the release of Mockingjay. It was when I was still a bit of a baby--deeply closeted, married, mom of two very small children, and shaking off the very conservative upbringing that I had.

Then I read The Handmaid's Tale. And when I say it changed my life--I mean it. I can track back to exactly when I started questioning the patriarchal bullshit that is the United States society to the week after I finished it for the first time.

It devastated me and woke me up in a way that was extremely liberating and also painful.

The show does not have as deeply emotional ties as the book does, but I have watched it--I finished the final season a few weeks ago, actually and I'm making my way (slowly because it's so very heavy) through a reread of the book.

And I won't write an au of it.

I spent a lot of time thinking about this while watching the show, because if you know me at all--if I spend more than a few hours in a piece of media, I'm usually chattering at @returnofbogmoth and @meidui about a Stevetony version (Stevetony dino fic! Stevetony Space fic! Stevetony historical romance!). Even with The Hunger Games, I did a Stevetony AU. But I think the reality of THT and Gilead juxtaposed over where the US and reproductive rights are makes it a little too real and terrifying to be something I can fictionalize.

Also, I can't picture either Steve or Tony as someone from Gilead and trying to makes my heart hurt.

I do love the idea of a dystopian AU--I'm just a little too weary with the world to write one, and if I do, I'd want it to be a little bit more our boys on the right side of history.

A trend I've noticed in dystopian media like THG and THT that has a broad TV or movie audience is that sometimes the message gets watered down by the mass appeal and exhibition of it all. The readers who clamor for a book about every single Hunger Games--do they realize they sound like the Capitol? The TV fans who think that Nick was a good guy and June's endgame--do they realize that was never every the point? I know I'm just as guilty of it--I adore both pieces of media, I've written a THG au, and if Suzanne Collins gives us another dozen books, I'll read them all. But I think too, it's important to remember that both--especially THT--are political and social commentary that has a relevance to today that is actually terrifying. And that makes it difficult for me to write it as fic.

#arei answers #hey nonnie #stevetony fic ideas #the handmaid's tale #the hunger games

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earliebirb · 4 years ago

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Steve not noticing that he goes into Tony kisses withdrawals when Tony’s away, but the rest of the team do. Like a first if Tony is out for a day or two and Steve doesn’t get his morning kiss he’s grumpy until after lunch, so the team introduces secret “Tony is away” brunch protocols, to get it over faster. After 4 days he’s moping unless he’s training or out with friends so it’s bootcamp/friend fieldtrips time.

2 weeks where he’s not on a mission and Tony’s out of the country and so busy he can barely video chat? The rest of the team sequesters him to the couch with ice cream and tv shows that Steve would like but aren’t on the “only watch first with Tony” list.

(The list includes all Star Wars’ and Treks, LoTR, Ghibli movies, and Die Hards. Steve can watch Mike Schur shows and Game of Thrones. While Disney movies and Romcoms are allowed by Tony without him, they are banned by the team cuz Steve starts crying during them at this point in the withdrawal process)

Eventually the team just kidnaps and throws him into a Quinjet and has him surprise Tony in his hotel after 3 weeks of no Tony and no mission calls. He is intolerably whiny, has grown his depression beard, and keeps calling the president, Fury, and other country’s heads of state to see if there’s aliens attacking.

LOOK LISTEN THE FIRST TIME I RECEIVED THIS ASK I WAS LIKE WOW ARE WE THE SAME PERSON??? Because Steve-suffering-from-Tony-withdrawal is also a personal headcanon of mine that I've carried in my head for years. It's my Favorite. This ask is very fun and made me laugh a lot and I love it very, very much. Keep your brilliant ideas coming, Anon. I really love them. (I am very sorry for taking a century to go through all of them 😔) Also, since it's Steve's birthday (shhh I'm not late, what are you talking about, shhhhh), I decided to develop this lovely idea and turn it into a birthday fic! I hope you like it! 🤍

let the heart grow fonder

steve/tony, birthday fluff, established relationship, 1174 words

“Was the flight really worth it? A few more days and I would’ve been home anyway.”

“Yeah.” Steve noses the back of his ear and Tony shivers. “But I would’ve been all alone on my birthday.”

“You would hardly be alone. There’s the whole team, and besides— The entire country would practically be celebrating your birthday. Fireworks, barbecues, the whole nine yards.”

“Not the same,” Steve insists stubbornly. Tony sees Steve cupping his hands to gather some water from in front of Tony’s chest before dumping it on Tony’s head. Closing his eyes, Tony lets the warm water seep into his hair and trickle down his face, neck, and back.

He opens his eyes when he feels Steve’s fingers sweeping his hair away from his forehead. “I would trade all of it for a day of doing nothing with my fella.”

“Sweet talker.” Tony huffs.

“‘S true.” Steve punctuates his statement with a kiss on Tony’s shoulder.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“‘S all your fault. You’re the one who was gone for a ridiculously long time.”

“Honey, trust me, if I had the choice I would much rather stay at home with you.”

Steve sighs, the sound echoing in the bathroom. “I know.”

This time, Tony cups his hands together, gathering a mountain of soapsuds. He blows on it, sending suds and bubbles flying.

“Nat told me all about it, you know.”

“About what?” Steve asks, his luscious beard tickling Tony’s temple.

“About the depression beard. All your sulking and moping. And whining.”

“I did no such things. The beard is me… trying out a new look.”

Tony snorts. “And crying.”

“Natasha’s a lying liar,” Steve grumbles, hiding his face in Tony’s hair.

“Come on, which movie was it?”

Steve stays silent. With his movements hidden by the soapy water, Tony pokes Steve’s side stealthily.

“Ah!” Steve yelps.

“Which movie was it, baby?”

Steve huffs, resting his forehead against the back of Tony’s skull.

And then, finally:

“Dumbo,” Steve mumbles in defeat. Tony snickers.

“Oh, honey. You’re such a softie.” Tony sighs fondly as he leans back, letting more of his weight rest against Steve’s body. He lets out a delighted hum when Steve welcomes the extra weight by snaking an arm around his waist.

“No judging,” Steve whines, and Tony grins when he can hear the pout in his voice. “You’d been gone for two weeks by then and I really missed you. Besides, you have no room to talk. Remember The Fox and the Hound?”

“Please. That’s totally different.” Tony rolls his eyes. “Anyone who doesn’t cry at The Fox and the Hound is a monster.”

Submerged up to his shoulders in warm water and pressed up against his naked husband, Tony feels well-rested and content in a way he hadn’t been for the past few weeks.

Still, they only have a few days left before they have to leave for New York, so they should probably make good use of what little time they have left in Milan.

“I wanna take you to this really beautiful restaurant for your birthday dinner. Super romantic. We could get a private table. You’d love it.”

“Yeah?” Tony feels Steve’s hand stroking up and down his stomach.

“Mm-hm. We should probably get out soon. Get dressed. Look presentable,” Tony says, resting his head back on one of Steve’s shoulders and looking up at him.

Steve looks down at him, his unfairly long lashes wet and clumped together. For a moment, he simply stares back at Tony silently.

“What?” Tony eventually says, unable to withstand the silent scrutiny. He breaks eye contact and lifts one of his feet up and out of the water just because he can, just for something to do.

Tony watches his own foot hover above the surface of the water for a few seconds before another hairy leg breaks the surface of the water. The bigger foot settles on top of Tony’s hovering one until his leg buckles under the weight, sending the two left feet plunging back into the water.

“Rude,” Tony remarks with a frown, turning back to stare up at Steve again.

Steve is already looking at him, almost as if he never looked away in the first place.

“What?”

“Would you be mad at me,” Steve begins, one of his hands reaching up to bury itself in Tony’s damp hair, fingers lightly scratching his scalp, “if I said I’d much prefer it if we stayed in tonight and ordered room service?”

Tony leans back, incredulous. “Room service?”

Steve nods.

“For your birthday dinner?”

He nods again.

“Why?”

Steve shrugs, disturbing the water slightly with the movement. “I mean, I didn’t exactly fly all the way to Italy for the food.”

Tony softens and tries in vain to hold back his smile.

“Yeah?”

An answering smile blooms on Steve’s face. He leans in to nudge Tony’s nose affectionately with his own. “Uh-huh.”

“What did you come here for then?” Tony asks, voice dangerously low and eyes never leaving Steve’s.

“Oh.” Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Keep looking at me like that and I may just skip the room service and go straight for dessert.”

Tony smirks devilishly. “What’s stopping you?”

Blinking rapidly, Steve swallows. “Yeah?”

“I mean, you are the birthday boy.” Tony strokes the line of Steve’s throat with the back of his fingertips and watches in glee as the man shivers.

Eyes wide and cheeks flushed, Steve leans in close and—

“Actually, it’s me. I’m stopping you. I’m really craving some lasagna right now.”

Initially headed for Tony’s lips, Steve changes course and buries his face in Tony’s neck with a guttural groan.

“Sweetheart. You’re not making things easy for me.”

Tony chuckles. “Nothing about me is easy, honey. I’m a challenge.”

“But it’s my birthday,” Steve complains, voice muffled.

“You got off an eight-hour flight, got to the hotel, and immediately napped for four hours. You haven’t had a proper meal.”

“I ate on the plane.”

“No, we need to get you some proper Italian food. Hearty, heartwarming, fulfilling.”

“Food is just food. I just wanna have you.”

“Um, excuse me? That is deeply insulting. Authentic Italian food is not just food, it’s an experience.”

“I wanna have the Tony experience.”

“You’ll get the Tony experience after you have a proper meal. Look, we can order room service, but we can’t skip dinner.”

“Fine,” Steve grumbles, face finally emerging from its hiding place. “But can we stay like this for another fifteen minutes?”

Tony settles back against Steve’s chest and lets Steve pull him close. “Of course, birthday boy.”

Steve hums contentedly, resting his chin on the crown of Tony’s head. “You make me really happy, sweetheart. I love you.”

Tony feels Steve’s fingers interlocking on top of his stomach. He looks down, spotting the wedding ring worn on Steve’s ring finger, one that he knows is engraved with his own handwriting.

The image of the ring is distorted by the water, but still, it glints golden. Tony smiles to himself.

“I love you, too, honey. Happy birthday.”

#stevetony #stevetony fic #stony #stony fic #superhusbands #steve/tony #steve x tony #mine #earl wrote something #happy birthday steve #earl answers #anonymous #stevetony chatter

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sevenyeargap · 5 years ago

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Mamma Mia... here we go again... my my... how can I resist u...

#ITS STEVETONY TIME BABEY #🦔 : chatters

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arabellamonkey · 3 years ago

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The proposal challenge

stevetony | steve and tony decide they want to propose to the other at the same time, only to find out about the other's plans. from then on, it's not a matter of whether they'll end up marrying... it's a matter of who'll come up with the best proposal plan

also on ao3

Friday night dates had been a tradition between the two of them for the past four years they had been together. Once the honeymoon phase —in which almost everything had been perfect and what wasn’t had been deftly overlooked— had passed, both Steve and Tony had realized, that with lives as agitated as theirs, they needed to establish a set of rules and routines if they wanted to keep their relationship safe from the chaos they were engulfed in.

That’s where the Friday night dates had come from, and so far they had worked like a charm.

After difficult weeks where they barely got to see each other, the certainty that Friday would come had been a life jacket for their relationship more than once. And well, after weeks in which they had indeed seen each other a lot, Friday dates were just another chance to do so.

Usually, their dates were filled with chatter. Be it about their chaotic weeks or about whatever they felt like talking about. It didn’t matter: those dates were always synonyms of chatter and laughter in their memories.

Except for that one, that is.

They hadn’t fought —that happened less and less as time passed— but to a stranger, it might have seemed like it.

That night, Tony had ordered food from their favorite Italian, and they were eating it slowly in their penthouse, immersed in such a deep silence the only sounds that were heard were the ones of metal against the plates.

In contrast with the outside silence though, Tony's mind was running wild with many thoughts, all of them devoted to the man in front of him.

How the hell have we ended up at this point? he asked himself, frustrated.

Everything had started that Monday, when Tony had finally decided for certain that he wanted to ask Steve to marry him. Reaching that point hadn’t been difficult in itself; he had known for a while that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Steve, and the fact that they had talked about it once or twice didn’t hurt. He knew he wanted to ask him and he was almost certain Steve would say yes, which was a comforting thought.

No, things had gotten complicated after he had made the decision, because then that had left him with a question that was just as important: how to do it?

Tony’s first instinct had been to do something extravagant, as he was. Something memorable, something that they would look back to with a smile and happiness. But then he had thought twice about it, and well, proposing was something important, and he wanted that moment to belong to the two of them. So, doing something extravagant had been ruled out when he had realized who he had been going to propose to. He knew Steve —and he prided himself on being second on the list of people who knew him most in the world, and that was just because he knew Barnes still had some anecdotes about their childhood that Steve hadn’t allowed him to disclose— so he had known instantly that a big gesture would be appreciated, yes.

But Steve was always saying how much he loved their most simple moments, the intimacy they had achieved over time. So that’s what Tony had decided to go for: something intimate and personal. He would propose to Steve with his mother’s ring in a small, intimate dinner. He had planned to order a cake and somehow hide the ring inside it, because it wouldn’t have been his proposal without some kind of surprise involved, right?

That had sounded like the perfect plan at the time.

But then, Tuesday came and he had heard something he was sure he hadn’t been supposed to hear.

It had been Steve, sparring with Barnes in the gym and saying, between deep breaths. “I need it to be special, Bucky. The greatest thing I can picture wouldn’t measure up to Tony.”

“Man, it’s just a proposal,” Buck had snorted, crouching to avoid a punch and sending Steve to the ground with a leg move. “Just give him your Ma's ring, ask him if he wants to marry you and it’ll be a done deal.”

“No,” Steve had answered, voice so full of conviction it had surprised even Tony, who had been listening behind the almost-closed door. “It has to be perfect, and it has to be great .”

Hadn’t Tony decided that he wanted to propose to Steve the day before, hearing that conversation would have made him really happy. But at that moment? No, at that moment the only thing he had been able to feel had been indignation.

Steve wanted to propose to him with something big?

Well, he was certain he could make it bigger.

But to make sure he would succeed, he had realized he needed to know about Steve’s moves before he made them, or else he risked being proposed to without expecting it and therefore, losing the competition to make the best proposal.

That’s when he had asked Rhodey to find out for him. And sure, his friend might have told him something similar to what Barnes had told Steve that day in the gym, but he had chosen to ignore him until he had returned a few hours later.

“He plans to take you hiking, spend the whole day together and ask you to marry him on a cliff? Something related to the day he confessed to you?” Rhodey had said, frowning deeply. “There might have been an aerostatic globe involved, I think.”

Well, that hadn’t been that hard to find out. And it hadn’t taken more than a couple of hours for Tony to find something greater to plan for their proposal: he would reserve Times Square, where they had kissed for the first time on their first date, have dinner and ask Steve to marry him. Plus, he would arrange to have illumination in a building nearby spelling the question in big, blue letters.

He had already made most of the reservations by Wednesday, when Rhodey had approached him, frowning. “He has changed plans. Now he’s preparing stuff to fly you both to Paris and ask you at the top of the Eiffel Tower. Something about how you’ve always had a knack for clichès? Not that he’s wrong.”

Tony had just sighed, nodded, and started rescheduling everything.

Having to cancel all his plans had been a bummer, but still. Fly him to Paris? Times Square wouldn’t do. He needed something bigger. After giving it some thought, he had found a new plan, a greater one.

“Japan?” Rhodey had asked when he had told him. “But why ?”

“He’ll like it,” Tony had said, sure of himself. They had been to Japan twice in their relationship, both in Avengers business, but Steve had mentioned once or twice how beautiful the rural zones seemed, and how peaceful everything was. Beautiful and peaceful? In Tony’s mind, that had equaled to a perfect recipe for a proposal. Plus, it was Japan, which in his mind had obviously been better than France. He hadn’t told Rhodey why.

So when Thursday had arrived, he had been pretty happy, humming while he worked on his most recent project. He had already made all the reservations and knew that everything would be perfect. But then Rhodey had called him.

“I don’t know why I keep doing this,” had been the first thing Rhodey had muttered on the phone.

“Just spit it out, honeybear.”

Rhodey had sighed.

“I was getting out of a meeting in the Triskelion when I overheard Rogers and Barnes fucking whispering about another change of plans.”

“Another?” Tony had asked, surprised and annoyed. “What is it this time?”

“Man, this is getting crazier and crazier,” Rhodey had whispered under his breath. “He was telling Barnes about some kind of reservation in a cruiser to Greenland? Something about how you got him out of the ice physically but also emotionally? Fuck, kill me now, Tony. This is corny as fuck.”

And well, that had been something Tony hadn’t been able to deny. It was corny, but the kind of corny that had made him smile a lot, taking advantage of the fact that Rhodey hadn’t been able to see him.

After that, he had spent most of Thursday planning a plan D but coming up with nothing. Then Friday had arrived, and in the morning he had managed to come up with the ultimate plan, an infallible one. He would take Steve to a game of the Los Angeles Dodgers; he would make Steve think it was all a joke on his part, but he intended to have the players play with the Brooklyn Dodgers. He knew how much it would mean to Steve to feel somehow closer to a part of his past, and well, it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it.

After the game finished, he would get down on one knee and propose. Because if Steve was something, it was classic.

There had been no way in hell Steve would be able to top that.

But just half an hour before their Friday dinner, Tony had gotten a text from Rhodey.

Honeybear Today 21:30 PM No idea how I got this info But. He has changed plans AGAIN wtf HOW? I don’t know, man But Barnes was telling Nat something about a fucking trip to Wakanda? Didn’t manage to get the details tho

Tony: Fuck.

So there he was now, having dinner with the love of his life and hopefully soon-to-be-fiance and trying to understand how the hell they had reached that point. Judging by Steve’s tense expression, it seemed like he wasn’t the only one that was a bit annoyed by the situation.

Usually, Tony used these Friday dates to decompress. Steve was an amazing listener, and he always had the right expressions, reactions and words to Tony’s stories about everything that had been annoying him during the week.

But how the hell was he supposed to decompress now that the person that had been annoying him lately was the only one that could calm him down?

And then, Tony had an idea.

It was brilliant, really. The more he thought about it, the more he liked it.

He wanted to marry Steve, but he didn’t want to do so because of their trips, or the surprises they gave to each other. He wanted to marry him exactly for moments like this: for all the nights they spent together, for the laughs they shared on their dates, and how Steve made Tony feel understood. For the warmth that spread across his chest every single time Steve smiled at him.

At that moment, Steve’s expression was tense. And Tony couldn’t have come up with a better way to solve it.

So, biting his lip, he fished his mother’s ring from his pocket, where he had been carrying it the whole week hoping to get inspired by it, and put it tentatively on the table. He did so while watching Steve’s expression, which went from tense, to confused to honestly surprised. His eyes opened wide in that way that always made Tony laugh, and his mouth drew in “O” in lack of any words.

“Look,” Tony said, clearing his voice. “I don’t know how we’ve reached this point, but I’m pretty tired after a crazy week at work, and planning all these crazy proposition plans has only exhausted me more. And being with you it’s usually the opposite of exhausting, so instead of trying to keep up… Whatever this is, I figured I’d just ask: will you marry me?”

He was aware that his speech lacked all the pomposity he had been intending his proposition to have, but there was something about being honest while asking the love of his life to marry him that seemed to fit the situation just perfectly.

He watched in silence as Steve blinked quickly and whispered with a hoarse voice. “Only with one condition.”

Tony lifted an eyebrow at that, honestly confused, as he watched Steve get up and return with a big bouquet of roses. Tony lifted an eyebrow as Steve showed him the bouquet in a way that made it obvious how he had hidden a small box in the center.

“Only if you say yes too,” Steve said with a shy smile.

The way both of them laughed before saying yes sounded just like their usual Friday date, and that was what reassured Tony that he had made the right call.

***

A few hours later, while they lay in their bed, Steve was resting while hugging Tony as he sneezed for the thousandth time. “Sorry, didn’t know you were allergic to them. Guess I should have just gone for the Paris trip, huh?” Steve muttered.

Tony snorted, shaking his head, and asked with his eyes closed, “how did you find out I was planning to propose to you?”

“I saw the ring in the dressing room,” Steve confessed while drawing figures on Tony’s skin with his fingers. “You always stored it in the safe, so it was just a matter of putting two and two together. And you?”

“I heard Barnes and you talk about it while sparring,” Tony confessed. “After that, I just asked Rhodey to find out about your plans.”

After a couple of seconds, Steve confessed, “I asked Buck to do the same.”

Once again, they laughed, interlacing their fingers, now with the rings on them.

#stevetony #stony #my fic #superhusbands #tony stark #steve rogers #idiots in love

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iam93percentstardust · 5 years ago

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AU-gust Day 19: 19th Century

Requested by @maguna-stxrk for a Stevetony AU! (I almost forgot about this because it’s my mom’s birthday and I spent most of the morning on the phone with her, oops)

Also on ao3 here

“All I’m saying,” Bucky says in that irritatingly placating tone that makes Steve want to pick a fight, “is that if you don’t find a spouse soon, your mother is going to find one for you and I think we both know who she’s going to pick.”

As one, they both turn and look at Sharon, happily chatting with her friends on the other side of the room. There’s nothing wrong with Sharon, of course, except that she’s the love of Sam’s life and Steve is dumb much of the time but he knows better than to go after Sam’s future wife…even if he hasn’t proposed yet.

“And what I’m saying,” Steve counters, “is that I don’t know why I can’t just be a bachelor forever.”

He very carefully doesn’t look in Tony’s direction, Tony who is a confirmed bachelor and has no idea that Steve thinks they would be great being confirmed bachelors together. Tony is several stations above Steve in life. He’d be lucky if Tony even knows Steve exists, let alone that Steve thinks they could be great…friends.

“Because your mother wants grandchildren.”

“But I don’t want children.”

Bucky gives him an unamused look. “That doesn’t matter to mothers.”

That’s easy for him to say. Bucky married his wife three years ago. Natasha is already pregnant with their second child and Bucky couldn’t be happier. He’s been glowing since their first child was announced and hasn’t stopped since.

He glances in Tony’s direction again, only to realize that Tony isn’t there anymore—or indeed, still at the party at all. But he catches sight of him again, slipping out the door that leads into the gardens so it looks like he hasn’t left yet.

“I’m just going to—” Steve says vaguely, hooking a thumb in the direction of the garden. “Get some air.”

Bucky frowns but Steve is already moving away. He doesn’t know why he’s following Tony except that somehow Tony managed to become a bachelor even though he’s the only child of a lord and Steve wants to know how he did it. And maybe he feels like he’s running out of time to figure out something else and—

“Are you following me?”

Tony’s tone is curious, not accusing, his posture casual as he leans against the balcony. Even so, it stops Steve in his tracks. He’s heard Tony speak before at these little country dances but he’s never spoken to him. It’s a nice voice, the kind of voice that Steve could hear everyday for the rest of his life.

“No,” he says. “I—just—air!”

Tony glances back at the party through the windows. “Me too,” he says ruefully. “Rhodey thinks it’s good for me to get out of the workshop and interact with people but it can be a little much sometimes.”

“…Workshop?”

Apparently, it’s the right thing to say because Tony’s eyes light up and he says, “I’m working on a new fertilizer that will grow crops twice as fast but use up less soil so that we don’t have to stop using our fields after a few years.”

“That sounds interesting,” Steve says slowly, not entirely certain what Tony’s talking about. It sounds like something that’ll help the farmers who don’t have enough land to have multiple fields and rotate through their crops but he’s not certain how a fertilizer could help with that.

“It is!” Tony exclaims. “It’s—oh but it’s better if I could show you.” He looks again at the party, biting the corner of his lip. “I don’t suppose you’d maybe want to…leave and see it?”

Well, it’s not like Steve really likes parties to begin with. He’s a dreadful dancer and this does sound more interesting and even if Tony doesn’t know his name, he at least knows who Steve is now and—

“It’s Steven, right?” Tony asks.

He stops. “You know my name?”

Tony smiles shyly at him. “You’re hard to miss and I thought, maybe, so then I had Pepper found out who you are and—it is Steven, yes?”

“Steve,” he says. “My friends call me Steve.”

“Are we friends, Steve?”

He bows over Tony’s hand, brushing a kiss against the back. “I hope so,” he says fervently. It’s hard to tell in the low light but he thinks Tony might be blushing. “I’d love to see what you’re working on. Do you have a carriage?”

Tony’s eyes light up again. “I have something better than a carriage.” He leads them down the stairs, into the garden, and around the side of the house, eagerly chattering about something having to do with an engine and replacing horses and—Steve doesn’t know what the expression is on his face but he bets it’s hopelessly besotted.

#stevetony #alle writes #august2020 #if you like please consider reblogging

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nethandrake · 4 years ago

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i don't do fake love (but i'll take some from you tonight).

stevetony. marvel’s avengers. rated t. pre-canon + fake dating. 4.7k words.

for @bigturtl

also on ao3.

*****

The gala is in full swing when Tony steps into the room. Immediately, he’s overwhelmed by the cacophony of sounds and sights around him - the clinking of wine glasses, the soft chatter, the blinding lights, the people dressed to the nights.

It should feel at home. Tony’s grown up to the glitz and glam, even basks in it from time to time.

Tonight though, all he wants to do is trade it all in for the bombast of Black Sabbath blasting through his workshop speakers as he works in grease, the bustle during team dinners, or the comfortable silence he shares with Steve whenever they spend time together.

Oh, how he longs for those quiet moments. The thought of laying his head on Steve’s lap as Steve reads and Tony works sounds like heaven right now.

Yet here he is at the annual gala for the Maria Stark Foundation, getting ready to play a role he loathes.

Tonight, he isn’t Iron Man or a member of the Avengers. Neither is he Tony Stark the inventor, the genius, the friend.

Tonight, he is Tony Stark – billionaire and philanthropist. And he has people to schmooze for the good of charity. Tonight’s not about him.

So with that thought in mind, he fixes his tie, squares his shoulder, takes a deep breath, holds his head high, and—

“Tony!”

—and yup, he’s going to die tonight.

It shouldn’t be surprising that Justin Hammer would be here considering every single freaking billionaire in the city was invited (thanks a lot, Pepper). But still, that man shouldn't be here at all, no matter what Pepper says.

“Tony? Is that you?”

Sucking in a breath, Tony braces himself, counts to ten, and spins on his heel.

Hammer’s smarmy smirk widens. “There he is!” he crows and oh god, are those finger guns pointed at Tony?

Tony hasn’t even spoken a single word to him yet and he’s already ready to die of embarrassment. Once again, the urge to drink is strong. Which is bad considering he’s going to be two months sober next Thursday.

Not that Hammer knows that. Hell, only Tony’s close friends do. Still, it doesn't change how it feels.

“How’s my bestie doing?”

“Peachy,” Tony replies dryly. “Until you showed up.”

Hammer barks out a laugh, waving a hand around. “Oh, Tony! Such a comedian!” His eyes roam, taking Tony in with barely concealed want. Tony fights off the urge to squirm. “I should’ve said it right off the bat but wow. You're a knockout, Tony. Absolutely stunning.”

“I always look stunning,” Tony deflects, moving to sidestep. “Now if you’d excuse me—”

“C’mon, Tony,” Hammer urges, draping an arm around Tony’s shoulder, and fuck, he wants that slimy thing off him right now. “Stay. Let’s chat. Grab a drink.”

Tony freezes in place.

Yup, this is bad. So very bad. He can’t afford to be tempted. Not now. Not when Hammer’s slimy arm is on him. Not when Hammer’s pungent breath is harsh on his cheek. Not when all Tony wants to do is forget.

“Thanks,” Tony says, shoving Hammer’s arm off him, “but no thanks. Now if you’re done—”

“Come on, Tony. Just one little—”

“There you are!”

Tony almost slumps in relief at the familiar voice behind him. The voice he’s been seeking out, been hoping to hear. He turns around, a quip ready on his lips—

—and all the words on his tongue die.

Steve looks absolutely breathtaking with hair slicked back and dressed in white, from his blazer down to his dress shoes. Other people would’ve looked like a Backstreet Boy reject. Steve looks like an angel, untouchable and beautiful.

“Anthony.”

Tony snaps out of his reverie, breaking into a smile of his own. “Steven.”

“Still fashionably late, I see?”

“Still a stick in the mud, huh?”

Steve’s eyes twinkle in mirth.

Hammer doesn’t seem as happy about the turn of events though, his smile thinning. “Captain Rogers! What a pleasant surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here, considering you’re always absent.”

As much as Tony hates to admit, Hammer’s not wrong about that. Whenever there’s a black-tie event or gala, Steve tries his best to worm his way out of going. Even when he does end up going, he always tries his best to blend in with the walls, which Tony finds highly amusing.

This time, however, Steve volunteered willingly to accompany Tony, much to his surprise and puzzlement. Steve had been tight-lipped about his reasons, like the asshole he is.

Then again knowing him, Steve probably felt bad about leaving Tony alone since the rest of the Avengers aren’t around to go with him this time, with Natasha away SHIELD mission, Thor in Asgard, and Bruce on a date with Monica.

“Well, I figured it’d be rude of me to forego going this year,” Steve replies ruefully. “I’d be a terrible boyfriend if I didn’t go.”

read the rest on ao3.

#stevetony #stony #superhusbands #steve rogers #tony stark #*fic

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misskatebishop · 4 years ago

Text

I posted 11.054 times in 2021

1179 posts created (11%)

9875 posts reblogged (89%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 8.4 posts.

I added 8.593 tags in 2021

#something for queue - 1420 posts

#bucky barnes - 1084 posts

#stevetony - 1022 posts

#stony - 991 posts

#tfatws - 915 posts

#stony fanart - 907 posts

#steve rogers - 652 posts

#random - 604 posts

#thaleia talks - 532 posts

#sam wilson - 466 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#then she said: if it's lack of time i can give you one more week i know this is the hardest part the rest of your thesis will be easier to

My Top Posts in 2021

I want you on top of me like cherry

Word count: 1719

Pairing: Carol Danvers/Fem!Reader

Warning: +18, smut, vaginal fingering, strap on, oral sex.

Summary: Reader makes up for not being there for Carol's birthday party.

A/N: I wrote this instead of sleeping. Title inspired by FLETCHER ft. Hayley Kiyoko's song: Cherry.

P.S.: I found the gif on Google Images.

You thought you wouldn’t make it. You told Carol that you probably wouldn’t get back in time for her birthday party since your flight was three hours delayed. Carol said it was fine, but it upsets you the same way, you don’t like to miss important dates, and your girlfriend’s birthday is surely one of those.

Well, what you didn’t expect was that Carol would throw a party until after midnight. So you were a bit surprised when you got home and found led lights blinking inside the house accompanied by Dua Lipa’s song playing low in the background in order to not disturb the neighbors. You shouldn’t be so surprised, you know much Carol likes to party, that’s how you met her, after all.

You had a date with a girl you were talking to on Tinder in a karaoke downtown, a nice place, you have to admit. Except for the fact that your date ghosted you, and never texted you back. So you stayed there, drinking alone at your table until Carol came by and started flirting with you. So, your unfortunate date turned out to be something better because you had fun the rest of the night with a cutie blonde woman.

You open the front door, pulling your suitcase behind you, and you first notice the smell of cigarettes in the house. You see Thor chattering with some of the other Carol’s friends, explaining something about a beer only made in his birth country, Steve and Sam nodding while listening to him. Outside in the garden, you spot Natasha in a swimsuit sitting on the edge of the pull while Maria Hill talks to her. You find the source of the cigarette smell when you see Sergeant Barnes lit one up.

“Hey, where’s Carol?” You ask out loud for no one in particular.

“She was making one of those Skrull cocktails of hers,” Natasha replies.

You nod in thanks, going back in. You hear Carol’s laugh from the kitchen and you see that your girlfriend just spilled a bottle of liquor on the kitchen island and it’s dripping on the floor, even though Maria’s and Carol’s hands are full of paper towels attempting to dry it. Wait, are they drunk?

Maria pokes Carol’s on the ribs and the blonde turns to the door. She immediately lets go of the towel, drying her hands on her Gun n’ Roses shirt and walking towards you.

“You’re here! You made it!” She says excitedly.

You tilt your head, smiling.

“Yep, not on time, though. It’s past midnight, so I guess that’s a late happy birthday,” you grimace.

Carol leans to kiss you, you smell the alcohol in her breath when she wraps a hand around your waist and pulls you closer. There’s a desperate want in her kiss as if she couldn’t stand another minute away from you, her hand is firm on your waist, clinging to your body, then she slides her hand down and squeezes your butt. Her lips tugged in the corner in a malicious smirk that you know really well. It’s you who breaks the kiss to catch your breath.

“You’re drunk. You’re really drunk,” you say, resting a hand on her breast and smiling teasingly.

“I’m not. I’m far from being drunk. I’m happy because you’re here,” Carol tucks your hair behind your ear.

You lift a brow, cocking your head as if you were saying ‘seriously?’ without actually pronouncing the words. Carol leans again, dropping a kiss with an amusing smile when you pout. Carol slaps your butt, making you jump and you look exasperated at her.

“Girls, get a room,” You look over Carol’s shoulders, seeing Maria shake her head, amused.

Carol didn’t reply. Instead, she holds your hand and pulls you.

“Wait, Carol!” You shout, reaching for your suitcase before she’s pulling you upstairs to the room you both share.

The door is still open when she kisses you again, running her hands under your shirt and pressing you to the door, shutting it but not locking it. She kisses your neck, and you moan when her hand squeezes your breast, her thumb circling your nipple. You tilt your head, exposing more of your neck for her to suck, which she gladly does while your hand travels up her breast. Carol puts her knee between your legs, keeping them apart and you can’t help but frot on her thigh before you remember that the house is full.

“We have guests downstairs,” you gasp, unable to resist her touch.

“So what?” She mumbles against your skin, pulling out your shirt.

“What if they listen to us?” You whisper as if the chance of being caught on the act was somehow thrilling for you.

“Let them listen to how good I can make my girlfriend feel,” Carol throws you on the bed. “I just got my girl back. She deserves a treat.” Carol walks to the dresser, opening a drawer and you know what’s coming before she crawls up the bed.

“Okay,” you nod excitedly, watching her take off her shirt. Her blonde hair is a mess, and it somehow makes her look sexier. “Show me how much you missed me, then.”

Carol smirks, then she holds your ankles before pulling down your pants and throwing them somewhere. Your panties are soaked by now. Carol runs a hand up your thigh and you pull her close to a kiss, taking the moment to unzip your girlfriend’s pants and pull them down. You cup her buttcheeks, grinding your hips together.

Carol, however, is not up for a fair game because she pulls your panties aside, running a finger through your folds and circling your clit. You shiver, speeding up your breath, you raise your hips craving for her touch, and soon your panties are out of the way, likely somewhere on the floor, but you don’t care.

You couldn’t care less about pieces of clothes when Carol dives a finger inside you and her tongue is around your nipple. She moves in and out, her thumb making slow movements on your clit. You need more and all Carol gives to you is add another finger, the squelch of her fingers moving inside you combining with your moans creates a perfect symphony in the room. You can barely hear the song playing downstairs.

“More,” you mumble.

You tug at her hair, she looks at you, eyes fixed on your lips, seeing how desperate you are. You whine when her fingers leave your body and your grip on her thigh to stop her from moving away, but it’s useless. Carol reaches for a pack of lube, she rips it open with her teeth, fixing the strap tightly on her hips, she coats the dildo in it. She watches your reaction, enjoying it.

“Carol, please,” you plead, moving your hand between your legs and rubbing your clit. You spread your legs wide.

Carol lines up, teasing your folds with the tip of the dildo.

“You asked for it,” she says cockily before pressing inside.

She pushes excruciatingly slowly inside of you until her hips meet yours. You arch your back, getting some leverage, you whine desiring some more friction. Then, Carol pulls out, letting only the tip rest inside of you before she slams in again. You both gasp loud. You grip at the sheets as Carol rams in and out of you.

You can’t help but widen your legs when Carol pulls out completely, letting your pussy squeeze at the emptiness. You raise your hips, squirming underneath her. Carol thrusts in again, hitting that sweet spot inside of you as she rubs your clit slowly.

“Faster,” you say, moaning.

“What? I didn’t listen to you, darling. The song is too loud,” Carol shouts. You know that’s not true, she can listen to you perfectly, but all she wants is you screaming her name.

“Faster,” you gasp, moving your hips along with hers, meeting her thrust halfway there. “Fuck.” You can feel the coil in the bottom of your belly, all you need is for her to speed up her thrusts and the movements on your clit. “Carol! Faster, please!” You yell, beg, whining. You’re a mess.

Thankfully, Carol listens to your pleas. She thrusts in and out, rubbing your clit as she keeps slamming inside of you, your back arched and the orgasm builds up. You feel your thighs clenching, and you breathe hard, wanting it to last. Carol pulls out and rams inside of you again, and that’s enough. You feel your walls clenching around the straps, and you pull the sheets as your orgasm snaps in, throwing your head back and your mouth half-opened.

You keep your eyes closed as you come down from your high, you feel Carol slips out, gripping on your thighs. You run a hand through your hair, a blissful smile stamped on your face. Carol smiles in front of your legs, and when you attempt to close to take a good look at her, the blonde holds them open.

“No, no, miss. There’s a feast before me,” Carol smiles amusingly, and before you get the chance of saying anything she goes down on you.

Carol runs her tongue through your folds, pressing it in your opening, rubbing her lips on your clit. You run a hand through her silky hair. She wasn’t kidding when she said she would feast on you, and due to the overstimulation, it doesn’t take long for you to climax again, grinding your pussy against her face.

“Wow,” you exhale, breathless and speechless.

“Yeah,” Carol presses a kiss on your chin, and you can see your girlfriend’s face glistening with your slick. You smile at her.

“Your birthday gift is still in the suitcase,” you remember. You didn’t get the chance of unpacking anything because Carol was too eager to have her hands on you.

“Oh, wait. You weren’t my gift?” Carol chuckles. “You were wrapped so nicely.”

You laugh, looking at her on your side. You tangle your legs together, and in a move, you invert your position and you are sitting on her stomach.

“Well, then, let me give it to you properly,” you kiss her.

After all, who cares about the guests downstairs when there’s a private party in your room?

231 notes • Posted 2021-11-17 07:36:21 GMT

Yelena explains what asexuality is

Word count: 1507

Pairing: Yelena Belova/Fem!Reader

Warning: none.

Summary: Reader can't understand why Yelena doesn't have sex with her.

A/N: This was meant to be educational due to Asexual Awareness Week.

Most of the time, You have to admit that you don’t understand what your relationship status is with Yelena. Some days she would come, lay by your side and we cuddle and kiss. She would giggle while you played with the earring and piercings in her ear. We would walk holding hands and chatting excitedly as we ate ice cream and played with Fanny. You would go out as a couple, shop as a couple, buy your groceries as a couple, act like a couple everywhere. Anyone could clearly see that you both had something, but you and Yelena never got there. To be clearer, you and Yelena never shared any sort of intimacy. You and Yelena never had sex.

This’s been happening for two months and maybe you were rushing things, but… You don’t know how else to describe it, except that Yelena was... oblivious, you daresay, when it comes to your relationship. Some days she would act as if she was in the mood, dirty talking and giggling, but other times it was like that sparkle just wasn’t there. You really thought that the problem could be you, maybe, you were doing something to make her feel uncomfortable, and that’s why you decided to ask her, even though you were choking and blushing as you rehearsed your speech in front of the mirror.

You sigh, tilting your head, your shoulders slumped. You didn’t know what to say, how to ask, you are not really good at speaking the words out. You fidget, running your fingers through your hair as you attempt to ease your breathing. You close your eyes for five seconds, straighten your posture and let your arms on your sides, though you keep fidgeting your fingers. Just when you gather enough courage to go into the living room and face Yelena, the door of the bedroom opens and the blonde comes in, looking distractedly with a magazine in her hands. She’s been reading a lot of these lately.

“Oh, you’re here,” Yelena cocks her head, throwing the magazine on the bed and coming over. Yelena wraps her arms around your neck, kissing you in the corner of your lips. You frown, flinching and taking her arms off of your neck. “What’s wrong?” Yelena frowns at your visible rejection.

All the speeches you had rehearsed non-stop these past days served for nothing now. You sit on the bed, taking a deep breath. Even though you want to cross your arms and close inside this invisible shell you created, you force yourself to let your arms rest on your sides and to look up. To look at Yelena

“Sometimes, I don’t understand you,” you start. “I-I don’t know, you--Damn,” you rub your nose with the back of your hand. A gesture that Yelena knew you did when you were feeling embarrassed to voice your opinion.

Yelena comes to sit next to you, holding your cold, sweaty hand in hers.

“Okay, you can talk to me,” Yelena shrugs. “I can see in your face that there’s something wrong.”

You nod, tucking a strand of Yelena’s blonde hair behind her ear.

“Okay. You’re right. I’m bad at talking, but I can do it,” you breathe in, then out slowly. You look at your intertwined hands.“Sometimes you are really lovely to me. We kiss, we cuddle, we do… things that a couple does, except��” You gestured, expecting that your face would be enough, but Yelena blinked and frowned, confusion spread on her face. “You know, we…”

“No, I don’t,” Yelena shakes her head.

Yep, you thought there wasn’t another way to say it to her.

“Alright. I mean, we’ve been dating for two months now, and we… never got intimate,” you shrug it off.

“Oh,” Yelena nods before she turns her head to you again. “What’s intimacy for you, then?”

The question makes you blink because now that Yelena asked you, you weren’t sure what intimacy means for you. It couldn’t just be sex, right? But people usually get intimate through sex, so that’s all you know.

“Hm, sex?” You tried, lifting a brow, though it was clear by the tone of your voice that you weren’t sure.

“Okay, sex,” Yelena rests both her hands on her lap. “So you want to tell me about the showers we took together, the nights we lied in bed and cuddled, the midnight talks, the breakfast we shared every morning… You want to tell me that this isn’t intimacy.”

“No, I--”

“And as we didn’t have sex, we are not intimate or anything,” Yelena concludes.

“That’s not what I mean,” you say. “I just never understood why you never, uh, you know, you never even showed interest.”

“Yep.”

“Is it me? Or is there someone else? Is it because I’m a woman?” you ask. “I thought you liked women, I thought you were a lesbian. I’m sorry I got it wrong, I--” you stand up, feeling the tears prickling in your eyes, a knot building in your throat.

The sadness must probably be visible on your face. You’re feeling a little rejected here, you always tend to think that there is something wrong with you when a person isn’t acting how they were supposed to next to their significant other. Yelena stands up, holding your arms before you have the chance to storm out of the room. Yelena knew you too well to know that’s what you are most likely to do when you get in any sort of argument. You run away.

“Hey, hey, no. I-I’m not anything,” Yelena takes a deep breath. “I--someone told me that’s called asexuality. That’s it. That’s what I am. I am asexual.”

You tilt your head. You’ve heard that term before. Somewhere. On the Internet? You aren’t sure, but you know you’ve heard it. You can’t recall what it means either, or its concept. Asexual. What is it? What is an asexual person? You almost feel ashamed to not recognize the term that your girlfriend was using to describe herself.

“So… Does it mean that asexual people don’t have sex? I’m sorry, Yelena. I--What does it mean?” you ask.

Yelena guides your back to the bed, you both sit together as she gets ready to explain it to you.

“No, that’s not it. Some asexual people still have sex while others don’t,” Yelena says. “Saying that asexuals don’t have sex is a misconception. It reduces the whole community to one thing. Every person experiences their asexuality differently.”

“Okay,” a crease forms between your brows. “But, I think I still don’t get it, what’s asexuality?”

“Being asexual means that I don’t feel sexually attracted to anyone. It’s about attraction,” Yelena explains. “So I don’t look at people and think ‘oh I wanna have sex with that person’ or ‘I wanna do sexual stuff with this person.’”

“Okay, but you still can have sex,” you lift a brow, waiting for her confirmation.

“Yep. Attraction doesn’t equal action. I’m still a human being, I have needs. I can still engage in sex for a lot of reasons. Because it feels good, it gives me pleasure, or because I want to have a family.”

You snort, feeling relieved now that you know what’s going on.

“You don’t feel sexual attraction to people,” you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

“Nope. Not even a tiny bit of it. It’s weird to think people feel it. I mean,” Yelena shrugs, gesturing. “You just look at someone and want to do it? That’s weird.”

You nod, even though you can’t understand her because the truth is you are head over heels for Yelena.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Yelena reaches for your hand. “You’re gorgeous, sweetie. It’s just that attraction isn’t there. For anyone.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I understand now why you looked so… indifferent whenever I attempted something,” you say. “I’m sorry.”

Yelena shakes her head.

“No. It’s okay. There are a bunch of terms about the sexual spectrum. I had a hard time understanding myself and learning all of these, but now I feel more confident to talk openly about it,” Yelena admits. “I love you,” Yelena reaches for your lips, kissing you.

You break the kiss.

“Uh, I, hm, have a question,” you blush. Yelena nods encouragingly. “Do you think we could do it someday? I don’t know. I understand if you don’t--” You don’t get to finish because Yelena kisses you again.

“Yep. Why not? It feels good,” Yelena replies after the kiss. “Just be aware that I don’t miss it. Sex, I mean. I don’t mind having it and I don’t mind not having it. I’m indifferent. But we are going to need to talk. A lot. You need to tell me when you feel up to it.” You nod affirmatively.

You could get used to talking. Communication is essential for a relationship, no matter if your partner is an asexual or an allosexual person. Communication is always the key to these matters.

“I will, I promise,” you seal your lips together in a warming kiss.

241 notes • Posted 2021-10-31 01:28:02 GMT

Having some fun

Word count: 1191

Pairing: Sylvie/Fem!Reader

Warning: smut, vaginal fingering, +18

Summary: A customer flirts with Reader and things escalate quickly.

A/N: It's in first person because I wanted to try something. Also, this is literally my first character/reader fic. Anyway, enjoy it!

It was almost time to close when she got here, and since she puts her feet into here I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She came to the counter and asked for a Margarita. I looked at the clock on the wall as some of the customers started to leave. 15 minutes until I had to close, so I walked to the door and turned around the signal that said ‘closed’. Then, I walked back to start preparing her drink.

When I’m done, I slide it to her over the counter, her blue-green eyes glued to the soccer game on TV and she rests her chin on her hand. By the corner of my eyes, I see when another customer pays for his drink and leaves.

The blonde short-haired woman mutters a ‘thank you’ when she sips. Wow, she’s so pretty, I think, unable to hold the sighing that escapes my lips.

“Hey, Y/N. You can handle it?” Fred, the cashier asks me, nodding at the pretty woman in front of me.

I run a hand through my ponytail.

“Sure. You’re free to go, if you want to,” I wave a hand in his direction, shrugging. I get a cloth to clean the counter because I have to leave everything clean for Saturday night. I’m only starting because I still have to clean the floor and the tables.

I sigh sadly when I think about everything I still have to clean.

“Tough night?” I look back at the blonde, bringing the straw to her pink lips. She looks at the badge on my shirt. “Y/N?”

I stare at her until I realize that I actually have to give her an answer, though I couldn’t find the words. I feel my cheeks get warm.

“Uh, Friday night,” I say, attempting to smile. “It’s generally crowded here,” she sips her drink. “What about you?”

She frowns, her nose twitching beautifully in a funny face.

“Boring day. Not worth telling,” she tsked. “Why don’t you serve yourself something?” I blink at the unexpected invitation. “It’s on me.”

I nod as I prepare two Margaritae.

“What’s your name?” I blurt out, feeling her eyes on my back when I turned around.

“Sylvie.”

“Sylvie,” I repeat. “What brought you here tonight?” The blonde gives me a lopsided smirk.

“I just wanted a drink, but I think I got more than I expected,” she winces.

I slid another Margarita at her.

“Yeah?” I hum. “It seems you have a thing for Margarita,” I snorted.

“I have a thing for pretty girls making Margarita.”

“Oh,” I fluster, taking a sip for my drink.

Sylvie watches me, her pink lips sipping from the straw. I wonder what she might be thinking about me if she thinks I’m cute or anything. I certainly should not be hitting on a customer at this hour. I should be cleaning the rest of the tables and going home before I miss the train. But Sylvie… The sight of her awakes something in me.

“So, what are your plans for tonight?” I ask warily.

“Same as yours,” she raises a brow, a sign for me to continue.

“Really? Cuz mine is to clean this place and head home,” I chuckle.

“D’you live really nearby?”

“I sure don’t,” I reply while taking her empty glass to place in the sink. Sylvie scowls.

“No fun?” I raise my head to look at her.

Then, Sylvie is leaning over the counter, fisting my button-up shirt and pulling me close to her face. I stutter when she gets so close to me, Sylvie tilts her head, her blue-green eyes fix on my lips and I couldn’t help but seal our lips together.

Everything seems to happen quickly, and when Sylvie breaks the kiss, she comes around the counter, pressing her body against mine, kissing me again, and unbuttoning my shirt. She rests a hand on my boob, squeezing and stroking it, which made me moan. Well, at least, we are alone here, I think.

My hands grip Sylvie’s waist firmly, keeping our bodies together as she naughtily peppers kisses on my neck. I tilt my head in order to expose more and feel those soft lips on my skin. I lean on to bite her earlobe gently and I feel her hand rub on my tummy, and have her fingers unbuckling my belt.

I gasp when her cold hand touches my clit, but when she starts to play with it and rub her fingers down my folds, it feels so fucking good. I arch against her touch. Sylvie giggles.

“Oh, you like it,” I’m not sure if it’s a question or not, I just nod my head in agreement to whatever she’s saying.

“Please, don’t stop,” I mutter. She slips a finger down my folds, nudging at my entrance. “Fuck, Sylvie,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut, eager for some friction, but my impatience only serves to amuse her.

“You’re so wet, sweetie. C’mon here,” she pressed her thigh between my legs, spreading me open and helpless. “I’ll give ya a treat.”

I can’t help the grasp on her waist when she pushes in a finger inside my wet pussy, nor I can’t help the moans and groans that leave my lips when she thrusts in and out at a slow pace. Almost punishable, as if she wants me to beg her before she adds another finger, sliding in and out of my pussy easily due to the wetness. I pulled her into another kiss, panting at the feeling of her fingers curling inside of me.

She chuckles.

“Oh God, Sylvie, more!” I somehow manage to get the words out, though I’m lost at the pleasure. Completely at her mercy.

Another gush of slick comes dripping from me, and the obscene wet sounds of her fingers pounding in my pussy can be heard. I shove my tongue inside her mouth, tasting the Margaritas in it, and biting her lower lip. My hips stutter when her fingers slam straightforwardly in my sweet spot. I roll my eyes when she flicks her thumb over my clit.

It’s overwhelming. I shiver under her touch at the over sensation. The heat spreads at the bottom of my tummy, and my thighs squeeze her leg as the orgasm hits me.

My legs tremble, and Sylvie pulls her fingers out of me. I didn’t even realize I placed my hands on her shoulders, I blinked several times as reality came to focus. Sylvie’s lopsided smile is too adorable. I feel lightheaded as if all the tension on my shoulders had gone away, a smirk tugs the corner of my lips.

“Having fun?” she asks, raising a brow. She brings her slick fingers into her mouth.

“Very much, but I should--” I started to say, but a camera catches my attention, and fuck. I forgot. “Holy shit, the cameras!” Sylvie follows my gaze.

“I deal with it,” she says. “Tech is my thing.” She leans down the counter, doing something I can’t quite--

She turns around and sticks a napkin in my bra before gently tapping on it.

“Call me,” she winks.

291 notes • Posted 2021-07-08 15:35:50 GMT

This is the end.

Word count: 1530 Pairing: Druig x Eternal!Reader Warning: Angst. Eternals' Spoilers. Summary: Druig finds out Y/N has been hiding something from him.

Request: Can I request what would Druig’s reaction be to having a secret love child with a fellow eternal? Angst, please. A/N: I love writing angsty fics. It's intense.

A family reunion means seeing the others who you haven’t talked to in centuries.

It means watching awkward conversations between Sersi and Ikaris after their separation. It means checking on Thena and Gilgamesh, who you haven’t listened about since they moved to a remote area in Australia. It means Kingo bragging about his movies, even though you haven’t watched any of them. It means Makkari and her collection of lost items in the history of humanity. It means Phastos’ daily struggle about the things he created in the past to help humankind. It means dealing with Sprite’s recklessness.

And Ajak… well, you wished she was here to offer you some piece of advice, not that she hasn’t given you any during these ten years. She was always the first one to remind you that honesty is the best for everyone involved in a situation.

And what a hell of a situation you have...

A family reunion means seeing Druig again after ten years. You surely didn’t want to let him learn about your secret. You kept it a secret for a reason. After all, you and Druig didn’t break up on good terms, and later when you found out you were expecting… Of course, you ran away. You disappeared, made sure he couldn’t find you if he wanted to take back his decision.

But Druig is stubborn, you know it too well, and so you never see him again. You never even heard of him again, not even Ajak had news of him.

You had an idea where he could be. In his sacred exile deep into the forests where he protected a group of humans for generations. The thing is, you wanted a life outside of that. The world was wide and there was so much to explore. You tried to understand Druig’s point. He was a pacifist and that’s why he never felt he had a place between the other Eternals. Druig wasn’t willing to let conflicts happen when he could end it all and put the world at a permanent state of peace. He pondered that when he left, to control mankind. He told you that in one of your rare encounters that were becoming rarer each time.

The weight of years, of centuries, was tearing you apart from each other. There was nothing to be done about it. Not when no one gave in.

You called him selfish, even though you knew he wasn’t. He never was, otherwise he would never look after other humans. A specie he grew to love. It was your jealousy of this love that made you go in separate ways. You were the selfish one, demanding him to give up on his beliefs.

You have always been this mess. Consequently, you pushed everyone away, but Ajak. She’s been the glue to keep all the Eternals together for centuries, and she said you could go and see the world to share this knowledge with her later… Well, that was when the glue melted, sticking you all together through fragile lines.

So here you were with Sersi, Ikaris and Druig. Odd. Because Druig couldn’t stand Ikaris. Sersi excused their unexpected visit, and she explained that she and Ikaris faced a Deviant a couple of days ago, and that they were reuniting everyone. Apparently, Druig joined them while Thena, Gilgamesh and Sprite went after Phastos and Makkari. You were the hardest to find, according to Ikaris.

No wonder why, you thought as you glanced at the clock on the wall, silently praying to Arishem that they were gone before your kid is back from school.

“I’m sorry. Ajak is dead, Y/N,” Ikaris stated.

That’s what you feared when you saw them outside of the house. On your last visit to your leader, you saw the worry and fatigue in Ajak’s features, no matter how much she tried to dismiss it, affirming that she was doing a lot of voluntary work in the communities nearby her house. You couldn’t believe it… Ajak, dead. It didn’t seem right.

“We’re trying to stop the emergence,” Sersi explains. “A new celestial was designed to emerge on this planet, and it will kill everybody here if we don’t attempt to stop it.”

That seems like an obvious choice when you have a kid that lives here.

“How will you stop the emergence of a Celestial, Sersi? That’s not possible,” you raise your head to speak.

“That’s what Druig’s here is for,” Ikaris pats the other man’s shoulder, and Druig pushes his hand away. That’s the first time you’re staring directly at him since they arrived.

His gaze, though, was fixed on you. You couldn’t read his expression, but you could say that he wasn’t feeling comfortable here.

“Druig will put it to sleep,” Sersi says.

“I said I’ll try to do it, not that I can do it,” Druig replies.

It’s a plan. You don’t doubt Druig’s skills, but it seemed too much weight on the back of only one Eternal. You glance at the clock again, narrowing your lips.

“I need to think about it before I make a decision,” you say. You’d rather spend the few days you may have left with your kid than trying to stop something that could not be stopped.

Ikaris doesn’t seem to like your answer, but Sersi, now your new leader, only nods comprehensively. She’s allowing you the free will to decide. Ikaris stands up, straightening his shirt, as Sersi stands, too.

“Don’t take too much time. We’ll wait in the Domo,” Ikaris says, and it sounds a little bit threatening to your ears. Well, not only for yours because Druig throws the fighter a cold glance.

Sersi and Ikaris walk out of the room, letting you alone with Druig. You grit your teeth, another glance at the clock and you know that time’s too close. He’ll know. Actually, he would have known it a long time if he had looked inside your head. He made a promise, though, when you two were still together, he promised he wouldn’t look into your thoughts. You’re glad he kept it until now.

“What’s keeping you from coming with us, Y/N?” He asks politely, a tone of nonchalance hidden in his voice.

“I have my reasons,” you reply. “I have someone to look after.”

Druig looks around, clearly searching for any sign that might indicate if there was someone else in the scene.

He hums, standing up and wandering into the room.

“I thought a lot of you,” he admits, playing with wool yarn he finds in one of the furnitures. His voice softened.

“Druig…” you sigh.

He turns around, looking right at you as he throws the wool yarn to the other hand. You stare at each other until a horn sounds outside, and you turn to know that the kid is running to the front door. You curse under your breath. That’s not how you wanted him to discover. You’ve been a coward for hiding the truth for all these years.

You hear the sounds of footsteps in the hallway before the kid storms into the room, wrapping his arms around your waist in a hug.

“Mom! You won’t believe it. Zoey took her ferret to class today. It was awesome,” the kid tells you excitedly, not even noticing the guest in the room.

You pet his head.

“That’s great. Why don’t you put your things in your room and go get some peas in the yard?” You suggest. “Mom needs to talk to our guest.” The kid turned around, noticing the other presence in the room. He backs away shyly against your legs.

“Hi.”

The resemblance couldn’t be hidden. The little boy is a perfect young copy of the Druig in front of you. Same dark hair and light blue eyes. And you can see that Druig is connecting the dots. His jaw tightens. You tap at your son’s back indicating that he should go and the kid runs up the stairs.

“How old is he?” Druig doesn’t take his eyes off of you. The anger is burning wild behind those globes. The last time you saw so much anger in his gaze was in Tenochtitlan when no one spoke up when Druig blamed the Eternals for all the conflicts.

“Ten,” you mumble.

Druig close his hand into a fist, letting the wool yarn fall on the ground. His eyes glow before he looks into your mind. The last ten years of your life passes through a flash before your eyes, then it’s over. You gasp when you blink and you are back into your living. His wrath is everything that you feel around you.

“How could you’ve kept it from me?” He grits his teeth.

“You’ve always had your beloved humans. I only have him!” You speak louder than usual.

“You took something from me, Y/N,” he shakes his head, disappointed.

It hurts to acknowledge his disappointment in you. It’s clear that he’s not letting it go anytime soon. He’s stubborn, you’ve always known that. He will come back. For the kid.

He starts walking, but stops, breathing hard and without glancing back at you, he finally says the words you dreaded to hear.

“I believe we’re done”

347 notes • Posted 2021-12-02 06:05:08 GMT

Say You Won't Let Go

Word count: 833 Pairing: Druig x Eternal!Reader Warnings: Just fluff. Summary: On the cold days, he brings warmth to Y/N. A/N: I tried really hard not to turn this into angst. Anyway, If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please, send me an ask.

Request: ok but reader and druig in a hades/persephone type of relationship where like everyone misunderstands him but she's the only one to see who he truly is and she loves him for that, and they're always soft for each other even after thousands of years and it's just very fluffy?? aaaaaah, makes my heart go fuzzy.

Druig looks at Tenochtitlan burning below him with his hands clenched into fists as he watches another war and destruction take place. A Pandemonium. Hell above the ground.

He begged to end this, but the others were against him. You, on the other side, are tired of a world evolving through violence. You had to agree when Druig yelled at Ajak if they were really turning the world into a better place through this chaos.

The answer is simple in your eyes: No.

Nothing good could come up from violence, murder and blood smeared on the ground as humankind kills each other in order to achieve power. The others were wrong about it. A pity, you thought, they were too blind by their faith in Arishem.

So when Druig turns his back and walks away, you don’t hesitate to follow him.

“Druig,” you call when you finally reach him. He turns around to face you, a shadow covering his features. “Hey,” you reach his wrist. “You’re right about it.”

Druig sighs, letting his guard down for you. He’s always had a soft spot for you, even though you used to act nonchalantly toward him. It took you a long time to become fond of him. You thought he was wrong, and you even thought he was the villain for a while for questioning a Celestial’s orders. You understand him now.

The world wouldn’t become a better place and humankind wouldn’t become wise through violence. You fell hard for him when you realized that he was right, and Druig… Well, he welcomed this new fondness toward him. Then, you two officialized your relationship to the other Eternals, but it wasn’t nearly cherished as Sersi and Ikaris were.

Druig was different from the others. The fact that you were together made you different beneath the rest of the Eternals’ eyes. There was only one place for you on Earth, and that was by Druig’s side.

Druig wraps a hand around your waist, pulling you close. He places a kiss on your forehead, letting his lips linger there as you sync your breath with his.

“You’re the only one that gets it,” Druig whispers, pressing your foreheads together. He strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“I’ll always be on your side,” you smile, poking his rib and making him laugh.

“What about the others?” He asks.

You care about others. You usually care too much and that’s why the idea of them seeing you different because of your relationship with Druig bothers you. They were your family, too. They’ve been your family for a thousand years. They are all you know. Ajak’s idea of exploring the world is appealing at the same time terrifying knowing that the chaos is spread out there.

“You should take in Ajak’s offer and explore your world. You and Sprite will make a good duo,” Druig says.

You chuckle.

“I want to stay with you.”

“I know, but you’re free to come and go whenever you want. It’s your choice,” Druig reassures you. “You’ll always find your back, my love.”

You nod before intertwining your fingers. Druig decides to leave and you go willingly with him.

He’s kind. He’s compassionate. You wish the others could see who Druig truly is. You wish they saw what he built and how protective and caring he is. He could’ve controlled the entire planet when he left the Eternals, however, freedom is not something that he could take away. Everybody makes their own choices, and it’s through every experience that humankind can evolve.

So he allows you to go when you want to because he knows that in the end, you will find your way back to him. You’re connected to each other. A strong bond that could never be broken. This type of love is not one that it’s affected by time. No matter how many seasons pass by.

He’s the one who can truly see you. He’s the one that knows how to manage your darkness when you can’t do it by yourself. He’s the one that doesn’t run away from your chaos.

You step into that forest as you do every year. You close your eyes when the strong wind blows on your face, inhaling deeply when the smell of jasmines hits your nostrils. It’s almost as if you can feel nature embracing your existence, touching its delicate fingers against your cold skin and wrapping you in a tight embrace.

You smile when you feel Druig’s arms around your waist, nuzzling your neck and peppering soft kisses on your shoulder to show how much he missed you in the last six months.

“You came,” Druig mumbles against your skin.

You turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. You feel the tug in the corner of his lips. It’s refreshing. A new beginning.

“Well, the rest of the world is freezing,” you whisper, breaking the kiss. “And you’re the only one who can warm my heart.”

453 notes • Posted 2021-12-05 04:38:43 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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unreasonablestarkstan · 6 years ago

Text

whumptober - stevetony

The wind whipped through Tony’s hair as he trudged through the deep snow. Of all the things that could go wrong on a mission, he never thought that an avalanche would be one of them. They had fought aliens, monsters, supervillains, and even nazis, but it was nothing but an act of nature that got them this time. If he wasn’t so terrified and so fucking cold, Tony would have laughed at the irony. This was one of the very few things that they weren’t prepared for. They were ready to fight anything that might turn up at the abandoned Hydra base on the top of a German mountain, but they couldn’t fight the snow, no matter how hard they tried.

He just had to stay focused, though that was getting harder as he got colder. Most of his suit had fallen off in his long tumble down the mountain, so his body was mostly exposed. His jeans were soaked through from the snow and his t-shirt wasn’t doing much to keep him warm. He knew he wouldn’t last long like this. His feet and hands were already numb and it was just a matter of time before he wouldn’t be able to move his legs anymore.

Cap will find me. It’ll be fine. Maybe he was just telling himself that to make him feel better, but deep down he truly believed it. They had been on countless missions together and Steve had never let him down before. It was one of the reasons Tony had fallen in love with him, though he didn’t think he’d ever have the courage to admit it. There was really no reason to admit it, anyway. As far as he knew, Steve barely tolerated him, and if it wasn’t for the Avengers there would be no reason for them to spend time together. It would just make things incredibly awkward for the whole team, and Tony didn’t want to be responsible for that. Dumbass. About to freeze to death and you’re still pining after your teammate.

Read on AO3 as part of my Whumptober 2019 series or

He was just so cold. His teeth were chattering so hard he could feel the vibrations in his skull, and his fingers were turning a nasty shade of blue. It was probably for the best that he couldn’t feel them anymore. He took another step forward and his legs finally gave out. He collapsed into the snow and tried desperately to get back up, but there was no way. Even if his body wasn’t frozen solid, the snow was so deep and heavy it would have been a challenge to get out no matter what. There was nothing he could do now except wait for Cap to find him. He probably looked so pathetic, laying here in the snow hoping to be saved.

He hoped Steve was okay. They had split up at the top of the mountain, Steve going in the front entrance of the base while Tony made his way to the back. The avalanche hit before Tony made it inside, but Steve was already behind the heavy steel door. He was safe from the snow, but anyone and anything could have been behind that door. Tony had no way of knowing if he was okay since his comms device had fallen out of his ear on the way down the mountain. He made a mental note to make the comms more secure if he ever made it out of here.

Tony let his head fall back into the snow, his neck finally giving out. His teeth had stopped chattering, which was probably a bad sign. He knew he was running out of time. Dying in an avalanche in Germany was never part of the plan. He always thought he would go out in a more impressive fashion, ideally in a battle with a more fearsome enemy than freaking snow. Whatever. He was too cold to care anymore.

Just as he started to let his eyes fall closed, he heard a voice calling his name. It sounded far away, but maybe that was just because it was being muffled by the snow. With all the strength he had left, he lifted an arm into the air, hoping it would be high enough to be seen over the snow. His frozen joints screamed in protest at the movement, but it was his only hope.

“TONY!” Louder now. Closer. And unless he was going crazy, he thought he could hear footsteps, too. He tried to call back but he couldn’t make his voice work. But the footsteps sounded like they were getting closer, and that was all the hope Tony needed.

“Oh God.” Tony forced his eyes open, and there was Steve. He looked more worried than Tony had ever seen him. “You’re gonna be okay, Tony.”

All of a sudden, Tony was being lifted into Steve’s arms. He had fantasized about this more times than he’d like to admit, but it never involved his body being so cold that he couldn’t even feel anything. His head fell against Steve’s chest, but he didn’t have the energy to be embarrassed. I knew he’d find me, he thought before the world faded to black.

XxxxxxxX

When Tony woke up, the first thing he noticed was that his entire body was trembling uncontrollably. The second thing he noticed was that he was sitting in Steve’s lap, wrapped tightly in his arms. He blinked twice, trying to figure out whether or not he was hallucinating. Could a hallucination be this warm? Figuring he might as well make the most of this, hallucination or not, he snuggled closer to Steve, eagerly soaking up more of his body heat.

“Hey,” Steve said, his voice surprisingly gentle, “I thought you might never wake up. You can move if you want, I just thought --”

“No, it’s fine,” Tony said, cutting him off. He might never get to be this close to Steve again, and he wasn’t wasting his chance, no matter how awkward it might be. “You’re warm.”

“And you’re freezing,” Steve replied, adjusting his arms, “I’m glad I found you when I did.”

“I must have looked so pathetic,” Tony said, managing a tiny laugh.

“Pathetic? No way. If anything I was impressed by how long you lasted in nothing but a t-shirt and jeans. But your face was so blue...I thought you might not make it back to the quinjet.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easy, Rogers.”

Steve was quiet for a long moment. “Tony…” he started, “I know you like to joke about these things, but I was really terrified that I might lose you.”

Tony stared at him. He never thought Steve cared about him as anything more than a teammate, but the way he was talking...maybe Tony wasn’t crazy for falling in love with him after all. He had a sudden urge to tell him how he felt. If there was ever a perfect time for it, it was now. But he chickened out at the last second.

“I - I’m sorry I scared you,” was all he managed.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry it took me so long to find you. You must have thought I was never coming.”

“No,” Tony said honestly, “I always knew you would find me. You’ve never let me down before.”

Steve smiled and held him a little closer. Even though he was still freezing cold, Tony wanted to pause this moment and live in it forever. Maybe it can be like this one day, he thought to himself. It was impossible, and he knew it. But the thought warmed him up a little from the inside out. Can’t blame myself for dreaming.

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anthonyed · 6 years ago

Text

2) Nose kisses (stevetony au)

“What are we doing here again?” Tony shivers, rubbing at the tip of his nose with a frown. His teeth chatter through his words and Steve has half a mind to pity him if not for him being the very reason they’re stranded outside in the first place.

“I don’t know, Tony. Why don’t you remind me again how you forgot your keys and phone and everything necessary!” Steve snarls at him, keeping his legs close together so they would stop shaking. His hands feel numb and his forehead too - if that is even possible.

He’s one cold breath away from a full fledged asthma attack and Tony looks like he’d swallowed a bad grape. He tugs at Steve so they’re huddled closer together. Then he gives up and simply hugs him when Steve doesn’t stop shivering.

“Where’s Bucky when we need him.” He grumbles into Steve’s scarf.

Steve scoffs but it comes out as a cough. “We don’t need Bucky. We need the keys.” He glares at Tony as much as he possibly can from being tucked under Tony’s chin.

“Yeah, well. Bucky took the spare home last time he was over, honey. You remember that.” Tony’s breath blows deliciously hot over Steve’s frozen ears and Steve melts into him with a relieved groan.

Tony seems to get the message after that. Rubbing his cheeks over Steve’s and blowing hot breaths all over his exposed skin until Steve’s giggling from all the tickles. “S-Stop that.” He pokes lightly at Tony’s side.

“Neverrrr.” Tony rumbles playfully, kissing over his eyebrows all the way down his nose bridge and pecks at its tip. Steve scrunches his nose in distaste, which only prompts Tony to give it a wet smack.

“Urgh, you morons.” Bucky interrupts them like an angel sent from heaven.

“Oh thank God.” Steve shoves his way out from Tony’s hold. “Tony tried to kill me.” He shuffles over to Bucky’s side, sticking pink tongue out at Tony’s betrayed face.

“No Stevie. I think the both of you are trying to kill me with your disgusting PDA.” Bucky flicks at his ear. “Get a room.”

“Sure we’ll get one if you’ll just fucking open the door already bugs bunny.” Tony yanks Steve back into and under him. “Don’t be salty at us because you’re too wimpy to get with Sam.”

The key clicks soundly as the door unlocks. Bucky throws the bunch of them at Tony’s face. “Shut your face, Tony.”

writing exercise - types of kisses 2/?

#this is exceptionally short #it was nose kisses anyways #who kisses nose?#ik someone who wants to kiss cevans's sharp nose #anyway #stevetony #stony #types of kisses #squint and there's sambucky there

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earliebirb · 3 years ago

Note

Hugs for the birb.

Also, please imagine Tony in a pet store, holding the roundest bird and giggling to Steve to “behold the borb” and eventually cry laughing, and Steve just besottedly staring at Tony’s giggling face and (cruelly!) ignoring the very good borb (the monster!!)

thank you!!! this particular birb does accept hugs!!!! *hugs* also that concept is sooooo adorable. i imagine the borb to be a small, adorable, yet chonky birb... perhaps like a european robin.

i can almost hear tony's adorable wheezing giggles in my ear and imagine steve just gazing at him with the Softest Expression on his face. warm blue eyes just tracking tony's face as he doubles over and laughs, the softest smile on his face... birb? what birb? steve head empty no thoughts just love tony. tony: steve, steve! *wheezes* look, look. *giggles* behold, the borb!! steve: *staring at a giggling tony, who is holding a chonky birb gently in his cupped hands and doesn't even notice that there are two more birds perching on him, one making itself comfortable in his brown curls and the other doing tiny hoppity hops on his shoulder* oh my god, i'm in love with a disney princess. tony: what? steve: n-nothing.

#earl answers #anonymous #thank you for this mental image #it is very soft and it brought a smile to my face #stevetony chatter

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miobambiino · 8 years ago

Text

Ritual

Amazing prompt from @snoozingcat! I hope you enjoy <3

"if you wanted to write a little stevetony something where an injured tony has to rescue a totally-out-of-it steve, that would be rad. bonus points for strategically torn clothing and/or emergency mouth-to-mouth :P"

(I didn't get the strategically torn clothing in, but I'll weave it in somewhere in another fic)

"C'mon Cap!"

The battle had been going on for six hours. Six goddamn hours, and Tony was ready to call it quits.

They'd been called out to Bucharest after reports of Doombots terrorising the town centre. Doom, in all his bravado, seemed to have learnt a thing or two since his last encounter with the Avengers, and this time had chosen not to invade the city where the team actually lived. What is it and super villains and New York?

The team had faced Doombots before, but not like this. They were far more advanced than their last encounter; made of reinforced vibranium, Doom's robotic lackeys became just that much more difficult to take out.

Thor and the Hulk were currently drawing in the most attention from Doombots. The heavy-hitters were being rained down upon my an onslaught of bots, swarming on them like locusts. They'd manage, though, they always did. Like always, the pair seemed to be enjoying the fight more than was sane.

Sam and Nat were on evac - Bucky defending their backs - retrieving civilians from buildings which were amidst their latest battle, and directing them toward the barricade set up by S.H.I.E.L.D and local authorities. Cap had given strict instructions to his team that the underground train stations should be off limits. The last thing they needed was the ground collapsing in on innocent civilians.

Clint had spent the majority of the mission perched on top of rooftops, giving the rest of the eyes over the entire scene, picking out bots with explosive arrows which strayed too far from the centre of the battle.

Tony and Steve were on the ground (well, air in Tony's case most the time) battling off Doombots while trying to get close enough to Doom - who was controlling the entire fleet from the safety of a bank. He'd set up a perimeter of bots defending the building, and hostages behind them as a safety net, the bastard. Doom was tucked away in a reinforced vault, using remote monitors to oversee his attack.

Six hours was a long time to be fighting, but it wasn't unusual in their line of work. But this one was taking its toll. The usual chatter on the communal comm was now filled with sharp updates and commands, the occasional brisk response, and mostly of grunts and yells for their teammates.

Plus the occasional laugh from Thor, though even those were now somewhat empty, not filled with their usual mirth.

Tony had turned away from Steve for just a moment, a moment, and things went to shit. He heard a spectacular whine from behind him, turning just in time to see an immense electrical pulse slam into Steve's skull. The stubborn jackass only stood back up shakily, fists raised - as if he were a skinny kid from Brooklyn all over again, standing up to the latest bully in the back-alley of a movie theatre. The Doombot swung a heavy metal fist in an uppercut, which Steve only just managed to block. The impact left him dazed though, and he was oblivious to another bot approaching behind, bringing down it's fist with a sickening crack over Steve's head.

Steve collapsed like a rag-doll, as if the strings holding him up had been slashed, he dropped to the floor and made no motion of getting up.

Tony stared, open mouthed and silenced for a moment before his face contorted with rage, and he let out a yell any Asgardian warrior would be proud of. Tony was ready to give everything and anything to finish this right now. He transferred all power into his chest beam, gauging a deep, burning crevice into seven bots surrounding him, and sped towards Steve's limp form, delivering another devastating shot from his chest, taking out the two considerably larger bots who were crowded around his Steve.

Throwing his battered helmet to the ground, Tony skidded to a stop next to Steve, who was was dangerously pale and had a trail of blood coating one side of his face, matting his beautiful blonde locks his forehead. His lips were blue, and Tony felt dread corse through him like ice in his veins.

"I honestly expected more of a challenge out of your Glorious Leader, Mister Stark." Tony blinked back the tears he had felt brimming in his eyes, seething at the sound of the muffled snipe from Doom, twisted disgustingly into a dull mechanical tone.

"Anthony! Wait for support before engaging!" came Thor's voice over the comm - Tony kept an earpiece on separate to the armour, so he wouldn't be out the loop if he ended some air against his head. Thor's voice was strained and curt, no doubt busy with another wave of bots keeping him occupied.

He wouldn't get here in time.

Tony saw red, firing up the repulsers on his boots and lunged at Doom, swinging at his metal-coated face, then tightening a lethal grip around Doom's neck. Doom scrambled at the armour, trying to maintain a grip out of desperation, Tony thought maliciously. This coward had put his team, his family, through hell and back more than enough times, and now had almost taken his Captain from him. Because although Steve wasn't technically his per say, Tony felt it like a throb in his heart that Steve was his.

Doom's breathing had become strained and rapid, and Tony only tightened his grip. He wanted Doom to suffer, to die slowly-

A burning hot sensation filled his rib cage, and Tony let out a huff of air, releasing Doom from his grip involuntarily. Looking down, Tony saw a deep crimson gush from a newly-made gash in his armour. He looked up to Doom's face, whose eyes narrowed in what must have been a smile, as he chuckled menacingly.

The blade, made from vibranium and now coated in Tony's blood, was retracted from Tony's torso with a sickening slick noise.

"Now now, Tony, don't look so hurt," Doom crouched down next to Tony - when had he fallen to his knees? "Consider us fair, now. You destroy three-quarters of my fleet, chase me away from my home in New York, force me into hiding like a sewer-rat, and paint me as a terrorist. So," he mused casually, "I kill your Captain and- well, you, I'm afraid. Are you actually so naive? That you could what? Just suffocate me and I'd call myself defeated?" Doom grabbed Tony's face in one hand, forcing his eyes to meet his own, "You've gone soft, Mister S-"

Tony unleashed the last remnants of the suit's energy into his gauntlets, which he’d quietly aimed towards Doom's gut while he was monologuing. Seriously, he considered, a super villain's greatest down-fall.

Doom screamed in either agony or fury - hopefully both - clawing at the fatal wound to his gut, charred black around the edges. The smell of burning flesh filled Tony's senses, and he felt a wave of nausea roll over him. Doom stumbled backwards, waving a command with the gesture of his hand, and one of his lackeys gathered his vulnerable form in it's arms, and retreated, firing up its own, more primitive repulser technology.

"Detonate the others" Doom seethed through gritted teeth. Tony watched as Doom gave him one last murderous look, before the bot took off in flight, far away from the current battleground.

"All remaining Doombots will detonate in less than 10 seconds, Sir." Came FRIDAY's voice through the comms, no doubt had the A.I altered the rest of the team too.

Panic swelled in Tony's chest, and he scrambled towards Steve's body, hauling the larger man into his arms as the downed bots began to beep expectantly. Tony dragged Steve's body, occasionally using the last drops of energy in his suit to push them forward - towards the abandoned office building opposite them, carrying him deep into the building. They collapsed in an ungrateful heap, and Tony turned back in time to see the small red lights on the bots flash angrily for a second before the beeping came to a halt, and the bots blew up spectacularly in the streets. But Tony wasn't filled with the usual relief that came at the end of a battle, as debris rained down from the outside of the building, collapsing in on the entrance, trapping the pair inside.

Tony shook off the remains of his armour and the dust settled around them, ignoring the steady drip of blood down his own body, and leant over Steve's unconscious form. Propping the man's legs upwards, Tony then cradled Steve's blanched face in the palms of his hands.

Pressing his ear over Steve's lips, Tony heard no sign of breathing. Forcing back the will to just break down and sob at Steve's side, Tony willed the strength to start making compressions on Steve's chest.

Ah, ah, ah, ah, Stayin' Alive, Stayin' Alive, Ah, ah, ah, ah, Stayin' Alive, Stayin' Alive,

He grinned despite himself at the silliness of it, singing a song in his head to will Captain America into breathing again, but it worked damnit, sue him.

He maintained a steady rhythm of beats, before taking in a huge gulp of air - which was heavy with smoke and dust - and brought his lips to Steve's. They were cold and lifeless, but Tony beat on, filling Steve's airways, until bringing his attention back to maintaining compressions on Steve's chest.

What was it he had thought before? His mind was sluggish and he could barely process what was going on. Compressing Steve's chest felt like instinct, it came so naturally when nothing else did. The blood loss, part of his mind quietly supplied to him. Ah, he remembered why he felt to shit now. He'd been ... singing ... before? Oh.

Ah, ah, ah, ah, Stayin' Alive, Stayin' Alive

"Stayin' alive, stay- alive," the words escaped his lips in a whisper, barely forming in his mouth.

God, he needed to sleep - just for a second, he thought, tilting to the side and weakening the compressions he made over Steve's star-spangled chest. No, he shook his head, as if trying to shake off the cloud of exhaustion, and pushed on.

Tony lost track of how long he was doing this, performing it like a ritual, like it was his religion, before he took in a final mouthful of oxygen. Tony himself was beginning to feel lightheaded, the space they occupied becoming scarcer of oxygen and filling with ash and debris. Nonetheless, Tony persisted and breathed for Steve again and again until-

Steve released a shaky breath, barely audible, but there no doubt. Tony collapsed with relief, feeling Steve's pulse grow stronger, the serum finally kicking in and booting Steve back up like a machine.

Tony's world suddenly turned sideways - he'd collapsed, he realised distantly - and he struggled to maintain a steady flow of oxygen himself. He felt the warm trickle of blood oozing from his side, and pressed a hand against the wound absently, eliciting a strangled cry of pain from his mouth, which tasted like copper.

That wasn't good news.

Tony watched the steady rise and fall of Steve's chest, vaguely aware of a grumble outside, the crack of rock and cement being hauled to the ground, before he closed his burning eyes, feeling fait relief before his mind swum backwards impossibly far, and abandoned him in nothingness.

Natasha had heard the commotion over the comms after Thor warned Tony to hold back before he got there. She then heard a crack of thunder and Thor launching into the air, but looking up he wasn't landing down on the avenue Tony and Steve had been fighting on; the Thunder God had intercepted a Doombot mid-air.

"Thor's got Doom," came Clint's voice over the comms, "Not heard from Cap or the tin-can for a while though - Nat?"

Natasha didn't consider herself leader material, but she was exceptional at planning strategy, maybe even more so than Steve. With radio silence from their two leaders, the responsible fell onto Natasha's shoulders. She was already jogging to Tony's last location while she barked out come orders.

"Clint, get back to ground level and meet Sam, you two help with recon, I need your eyes down here for an civilians who might need medical attention - check under collapsed buildings and debris," Nat surged round a corner, skidding on the ball of her foot - noticing Barnes on her tail, "Thor and Hulk are detailing Doom, once you're done, help get him into confinement for interrogation later - James and I are closing in on Cap and Tony."

"Sir and Captain Rogers and trapped in the building to your 3 o'clock, Miss Romanoff."

"Can you get 'em on the line, FRIDAY?"

"I'm afraid not, Sargent Barnes, I appear to have lost contact through the debris."

Natasha slid to a stop in front of a charred mass of dismembered Doombots, noting motor oil staining the street, and on top of it, Tony's helmet. She relayed as much to Bucky, who scooped it up, giving it a once over before scrunching up his nose and turning to look at Nat.

"This ain't motor oil," he grunted solemnly, holding out the helmet for Natasha to see more clearly in the light. The substance on it was scarlett in colour, and not as viscous as any oil.

Pursing her lips, Natasha raised her gauntlets and did a scan of the debris in front of her - they beeped back at her.

"They're in there - Thor, Hulk, we could use a hand here." Nat said as Bucky already began tearing through the debris, casting it aside as if it weigh nothing. Sam ran up beside them then, Natasha raising an eyebrow at him in return, he looked momentarily sheepish at that, but shrugged and said

"Heard there was a situation, I ain't got guns like Thor but I got ones better than his." he added playfully nodding at Bucky - who snorted in response, though the effect was dampened by how tired he sounded. Sam began digging alongside Nat, noting her discomfort

"Hey, Red," he tried, "they'll be here any minute."

Hulk made easy work of the debris, taking less than a few minutes to get through. He would've made even faster work of it if the others hadn't made him promise not to smash through, something about not letting the building collapse on their leaders.

Bucky vaulted into the building the second the gap was big enough, followed closely by Nat. The others stayed outside prepping medical supplies just in case, Clint taking a business call with S.H.I.E.L.D who were on clean-up.

Buck shone a torch through the building, casting it over metal girders, beams, blocks of cement, and then two bodies, one slumping over the other. Nat noticed too, and they quickly covered the distance, coming to a stop by the two bodies.

Steve's eyes were flickering open and shut.

"Steve- Stevie, can you look at me? Hey hey focus, punk, how many fingers am I holding up?"

Steve took a rattling breath in, before signing and closing his eyes. Bucky leant forward, momentarily concerned, when Steve spoke up.

"One. S'always one, you jerk. I'm con-concussed, stop flipin' the bird a'me" the blonde slurred, earning an amused huff from Bucky.

Bucky smile cut short when he saw the concern etched into Natasha's delicate features, looking at Tony who hadn't responded once. The gap made by the hulk was big enough for the medics to get a pair of gurney's in. Steve was hoisted onto one, his head rolling side to side as he furrowed his brow, muttering something about being fine, while Natasha rolled Tony over.

"It was Tony's blood," was all she said before her and Bucky hoisted his limp form in their arms, making their way over the the gurney. Gently placing the man down, they hastily jogged with him out the building as medics swarmed around them, fitting Tony with an oxygen mask while others were giving him a once-over, yelling commands in Romanian for the prep team in the jet.

In the light of dusk, Tony's face was nearing a dangerously blue-grey tone, waxen and covered in ash which matted his sweaty hair to his skull. Brushing the hair out of his eyes, Natasha set her features determinedly, getting the two injured men to the quinjet where they'd be taken to the Helicarrier's medical wing.

She wasn't about to lose two of her boys in her watch.

Tony woke to the steady sound of beeping and a smell of disinfectant. God, he thought, what did we do this time? Without opening his eyes, he rolled to one side, noting a pulling sensation on his arm.

"My friend, t'would be unwise to move so hastily at this moment," came the deep comforting voice of their resident Demi-God from beside him.

Tony loved Thor. Thor was so wise, and happy, and kind, and his laughter rumbled in his chest like thunder- was that part of being a thunder-er?

Thor's hearty chuckles were heard from beside his head, and Tony peeled open the eye that wasn't currently pressed into a pillow.

Blinking a few times and twisting his face funnily, Tony looked around the room, settling on Thor who was sitting in a chair much to small for someone of his stature. It creaked weakly as Thor leant forward, gently ruffling Tony's hair and smiling sadly.

"We feared we'd lost you, Anthony," Thor said, "your heart was weak and you lost a great deal of blood, I'm afraid. I am, I'm so sorry, my friend, I didn't get to you sooner. Had I been faster, perhaps Doom wouldn't have been able to inflict such a grievous wound upon you."

Noting the guilty look flashing across Tony's face, Thor quickly changed the subject, and was leaning down to pick something up of the floor.

"This," he said grinning, "was the blade that struck you - you were most lucky that it merely passed under your lungs, nothing vital was clipped - your liver was slightly, but your physicians were remarkable at their role!" He beamed down at Tony, hair messily pulled back into a bun. His t-shirt was far too small for his chest, which had Black Widow's doing written all over it. Coincidentally, it literally did have her name in graphic print over the front, Tony noted frowning curiously.

Tony stared dumb-stuck at the long blade Thor was presenting to him, when a voice sounded from his doorway.

"I tried to tell the surgeons not to bother with it - your liver that is - hardly valuable, damaged beyond repair. Definitely wouldn't be worth the trouble. They neglected to listen to me."

"Oh Natashalie, you wound me," Tony slurred melodramatically, wincing when he turned his head too fast trying to look at her, his vision doubling, tripling, and quadrupling a few times before adjusting again.

"No, that wounds you," she said, gesturing to the blade with a nod of her head, all while perching on the end of the medical bed by his feet, "You're an idiot, by the way, Stark. Strangling Doom? Not your best plan of action."

"Excuse me, but isn't that your signature move? Strangulation by thighs - they have action figures of you doing it now!" He protested weakly, wincing again at the movement of his chest. Natasha gently pushed him back down by his chest onto his pillow with one steady foot.

"Yes, because I'm excellent at it. You on the other hand, well-" she he turned playfully to his current state.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, a S.H.I.E.L.D nurse poked his head through the door.

"Director Fury wants to have a word with the Avengers briefly, ma'am."

Natasha nodded and made her way to the door. Thor got up to do the same when Tony tried to get up again, until his friend gave him a stern look that made him settle back down.

"I'm an Avenger too, fatal injury or no fatal injury!" Tony called out to Thor's retreating form, who turned mid walk, grinning at him,

"Yes, but Steven is staying put in his room, I suggest you do the same, Tony." With a wink, Thor strolled down the corridor and jogged to catch up with Nat until they disappeared from view.

Steve.

Oh shit, how did he forget Steve.

Tony craned his neck to get a better view out of the door, deciding the coast was clear and he pried himself off his bed. Looking down, he was relived they'd put him in scrubs, not the usual medical gown. After the ordeal with Clint, who protested profusely at the medical staff for baring his ass to everyone without his knowing, S.H.I.E.L.D medical had been reluctant to have a repeat of the incident.

Tearing out his IV (his internal Grey's Anatomy fan was screaming at him for doing so), Tony skunk out into the corridor, medical mask and all, and began searching the corridor for Steve. The Helicarrier's medical wing wasn't too extensive, so it didn't take long. Though they were certainly used to Avengers getting out of bed long before what was medically recommended, so the mask hid Tony's identity somewhat - hopefully long enough that he wouldn't be caught.

C'mon, c'mon, Steve where are you- ah!

Steve lay in a large medical bed - larger than his he noted irritably, favouritism, much - looking more peaceful than he usually did nowadays. Hobbling over to Steve's side, Tony nudged the door closed behind him with the heel of his bare foot.

Ignoring the way his stitches burned at the motion, Tony sat down on the edge of the chair next to Steve, propping his chin on the mattress. Closing his eyes, Tony's mind wandered back to the battle.

Watching Steve fall to the ground, blood gushing from his head, looking as lifeless as he did in Tony's visions. God, this was his fault, not fast enough, the body armour didn't protect him enough, not good enough for Steve. He wasn't good enough for Steve. The shock of being stabbed, dragging Steve through the rubble as fast as he could, the bombs inside the bots flickering too close together now, the explosion, the debris, Steve wasn't breathing, breathe for Steve, beat Steve's heart, Steve still wasn't breathing-

"-Tony?"

Tony's head shot up so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. Steve was awake, and smiling at him. Why, why was he smiling? Tony wasn't fast enough, he could have gotten Steve killed-

"I'm sorry, Steve, I'm so, so sorry you wouldn't believe - that rhymed, sorry, I'm not trying to be clever of whatever - shit, again, with the rhyming, I didn't mean to, this is very serious and I'm so sorry pleasedon'thateme-"

"Jesus fuck, Tony, do you ever shut your goddamn mouth?" Steve said hopelessly, eyes swimming with mirth.

Tony let out a deep sigh, and tried again.

"Are you- I don't know- okay? Angry? Sad- are you sad, I don't know how to deal with Sad Steve. And watch your language"

Steve eyed him, bewildered by everything coming out of Tony's mouth.

"You're crazy, you know that- wait, are you on morphine?" Steve chose that moment to glance down at Tony, at his current attire and his bare feet, before groaning.

"Tony, you should be in bed right now, God why are you here?!"

Tony looked momentarily hurt, before Steve signed and lifted his own covers.

"Lie down." He ordered, looking at Tony expectantly. When Tony stood up, Steve's eyes widened at the growing patch of blood emerging from Tony's abdomen.

"Oh for the love of- Tony, are you walking around after just having stitches." The statement wasn't really a question, Steve had already lifted up the other man's scrubs to reveal that yes, in fact there were recently sewn stitches and yes Tony had pulled them enough to bleed considerably.

Tony slid into the bed next to Steve, feeling a sense of comfort at the warms radiating from his chest. Steve sighed in frustration and pressed the assistance button next to his head.

"You're going to be the death of me, Tony Stark," there was anxiety in his tone, but he seemed comfortable enough that Tony could stay. They were in a hospital room after all, just not Tony's.

The morphine had begun to wear off the moment Tony ripped out his IV, which he kind of deserved for doing so, and he clenched his teeth impossibly tight trying to suppress a groan from the wound, with was now leaning less toward 'uncomfortable' and more towards 'really fucking annoying'. Steve noticed, pulling Tony closer to his body and brushing a hand through his hair - it was getting long now, he noted, flopping over his eyes half the time.

Tony was drifting off to sleep by the time a doctor waltzed in, clearly not imagining Steve would be in any urgent assistance, and her eyes widened then squinted as she pulled her face into a frown.

"Mr Stark! You were under strict bed-rest until further notice-"

"Well I am in a bed-"

"You shouldn't have moved beds at all!" She sighed, frustrated but compliantly, as she moved around the side of the bed Tony was on, only to sigh again when she noticed his stitches.

"For this, forget about me using morphine this time round" she drawled without much heat, when Natasha came bursting into the room, followed by the rest of the team.

"Ty sukin syn, Tony, you were stabbed - through and through - and you're more worried about Steve?" Natasha hissed, pointedly glaring at him again when she noticed the stitches.

Natasha asked the doctor if she could do it instead, staring Tony down, eliciting a nervous twitch from Tony. The doctor merely snorted and carried on - Nat hadn't been serious anyway, but the threat carried through.

Turning his attention away from Natasha, Tony felt Steve's eyes burrowing into the back of his head. Waving his hands around in leu of a remark in his defence, Tony met Steve's eyes and regretted it upon seeing the hurt in them.

"It didn't even hit anything important, don't start getting worked up about it-"

"It hit you. You're important, Tony," Steve bit out, actually leaving Tony temporarily speechless - a rare occurrence in itself.

Bruce watched the exchange and motioned for the other to give them some privacy, Sam obliged, rolling his eyes when Nat, Bucky, Thor, and Clint all hesitated, clearly more than interested in the exchange.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, the doctor finished redoing the stitches Tony pulled, then applying a fresh gauze over them, secured with a bandage wrapped tightly round his torso. She took off her gloves, balling them up to throw away into the biohazard bin, and said casually without looking up once, "If you touch those again I'll kick you out and leave you to bleed on on the curb. You're not making a mess in my medical suite again, Avenger or not."

With that, she was gone.

"Why did you engage with Doom without backup?" Steve asked in a disturbingly calm voice, as if holding back from exploding in a fit of anger, avoiding eye-contact all together. Steve had fished the StarkPad off his bedside table - Sam must've left it for him - and was skimming over the mission report.

"I was unconscious and your armour was compromised, Thor said he was on his way, so why didn't you just wait-!"

"It would have been too long!" Tony interrupted, feeling his own anger boiling in his gut, "Thor and Hulk were being bombarded by Doombots, you needed to get somewhere safe yesterday, and I was not gonna let that asshole just get away!"

Steve chewed the inside of his mouth, thinking of what counter argument to say next, so Tony took the opportunity to carry on.

"If I hadn't have stepped in, Thor would never have reached Doom in time and he wouldn't be sealed in interrelation, ready to be held trial for what he's done. Civilians died, Steve, you could've-"

"Alright." Wait, what? Tony said as much to Steve. "You're right, he shouldn't have gotten away, but your attack on him was thoughtless, Stark, I thought you were over this who goddamn lone-ranger recklessness on the field! You're on a team! You only had to hold him off 'til backup arrived, what the hell were you thinking?!"

Steve's voice had risen beyond a stern to full out yelling, earning a few concerned stares through the door from passers-by. The door mysteriously closed, and Steve sighed. One of the team must of closed it, meaning all of them were listening in. Fantastic.

"If I see a single one of you listening in outside this goddamn door in the surveillance tape later I will personally have you put on paperwork duty for the next fortnight," Steve said plainly. The sound of shuffling stirred up and eventually faded out down the corridor.

Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, before continuing.

"Star- Tony, earlier - on the jet, I was conscious enough to see what happened, what happened to you, and I-" Steve seemed to think carefully about his next words, swallowing the lump in his throat and licking his bottom lip, avoiding Tony's gaze. Not that Tony was looking at Steve either. Boys.

"You were so pale and there was just blood everywhere- it was, brutal, seeing you like that. You looked so small, Tony."

"Steve-"

"The thought of losing you because you were saving me that kills me, Tony. Why didn't you think of-?"

"I wasn't thinking!" Tony burst out louder than expecting, "Christ, Steve, with you I don't think, it's one of the only times I don't think and calculate all the variables to the T, with you its, it's like, like ritual." Tony finished, heart racing but feeling a lot calmer than a few moments ago

Steve bobbed his mouth open and shut, at a loss of what to say. Tony smiled softly, took pity on the man and gently lifted his hand, closing Steve’s gaping mouth, tilting it closed by his chin. Steve gradually leaned into Tony's touch, closing his eyes and sighing contently. Tony let his hand linger over Steve's cheek, then settling softly cradling his jaw.

Steve met his eyes, and Tony carried on talking.

"It's like, I don't need to think, I just do, and I just reacted. It's what I know, it's just there and- I'm kinda going off and a tangent here with this analogy so please feel free and step in so I stop talking-"

Steve tilted his head and kissed the palm of Tony's hand, clasping his own hand over Tony's. Tony wet his lips and started to shuffle, adjusting the way he was led. Steve flushed a soft pink, stomach lifting into his chest as the ends of his fingers began to tingle with anticipation.

Tony closed the gap between them on one swift movement, bringing their lips together tenderly. Steve got with the programme quickly, and kissed back, bringing an arm round Tony's waist, drawing him closer. Tony deepened the kiss and Steve moaned softly into his mouth, letting his mind drift upwards. He'd wanted this for so long, it ached in his chest and throbbed around his body. He tilted Tony's head backwards gently, kissing Tony deeper and leaning over his body slightly, letting Tony lay back as Steve gently climbed over him, careful of his stitches.

They kissed for what felt like hours, touching each other intimately, stroking hands through each other's hair. Tony ran his hands over Steve's biceps and his chest, Steve gingerly placed a hand over the scars left by the arc reactor, feeling the curves of his waist, pulling their hips together.

"That's bad for the stitches."

Steve dropped his head onto Tony's chest with a sigh, closing his eyes as if to say why me, why now. Tony snorted gently and dipped his head forward pecking Steve's forehead. Steve sat up and turned to look at the voice coming from the door, eyes already rolling back good-naturedly.

The team stood in the doorway, poking their heads through at different angles comically, grinning at the pair.

"Alright thanks for stopping by, you can go now"

"Aw, Cap c'mon, it's visiting hours! We all wanna see how our leaders are doing," Clint said with a smirk on his face, already strolling into the room and plonking himself into an armchair my the bed.

Steve sat up, gently helping Tony into a sitting position, smiling at him sweetly.

"Ugh, please stop doing that"

"Doing what, Buck?"

"That- thing where you look at each other nicely. Disgusting" Bucky mock-grumbled as he sauntered in, dropping himself on windowsill, followed by the others pizza boxes in hand. Steve just tossed a pillow at the guy’s head.

The others filed into the room, taking up respective places, perched on windowsills, plastic chairs, and at the foot of the bed. As the others joked around, throwing pizza crusts at Steve when he got doe-eyed, Tony settled back against Steve's chest, and smiled.

#avengers fanfiction #tony stark #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes #clint barton #thor odinson #sam wilson #bruce banner #stevetony #writing prompt #ritual fic

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