#my brain is a coffee maker and canon is the grounds | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ritualmichael · 6 years

Text

Internship - Duncan Shepherd x Male Reader

based on this ask: “duncan hitting on a male intern? yes”

(yes,, thats all it took for me to write a whole fic on it kdkdj)

this is very canon divergent because i only watched duncan’s scenes in hoc so im changing things up a bit since i didn’t know what was happening half of the time. also sorry that this is hardly male focused,, i’ll do better next time oops.

warnings: none really?

“That’s not his order,” the blonde lady stated as she read the cup, shaking her head. You didn’t actually know her name, never properly introducing herself on your first day but instead already giving you tasks when you walked in.

“You’re the new boy? Okay, this way. You’ve got a lot of catching up to do. The last intern walked out without a word to anyone,” she said with an ironic laugh, leading you through the maze of cubicles and desks. You mentally noted to yourself to dress nicer the next day in order to blend in with everyone.

“What?” you asked, appalled that you had messed up something as easy as a coffee. On the way to the coffee shop, you had repeated the order over and over in your head and was sure you got it right.

“He’s never ordered this a day in his life,” she said, raising a well manicured brow at you. You could feel the ground trying to split open and swallow you whole. It had been a stressful day and now messing up Duncan Shepherd’s coffee order was just the icing on the terribly made cake.

“I’ll go get another one,” you said hurriedly, turning to head back to the elevator but she grabbed your arm gently, shaking her head.

“You’ve got better things to do. Don’t worry about it,” she said and you were unsure if it was her being generous or just tired of your mishaps.

“Why can’t he just use one of the twenty coffee makers in this huge building?” You asked, shrugging off your jacket as you both walked through the busy office.

“Because he has the money to drop and a lovely intern that happily gets it for him whenever he wants,” she said in a sarcastically sweet tone, making you groan.

“Just tell Mr. Shepherd I’m sorry,” you said, making your way to the small desk that was tucked into a cramped cubicle.

“You can call him Duncan,” she said, leaning against the partition wall, the dreadful coffee cup still in her hand.

“I don’t think we’re on first name basis quite yet, it’s only been two weeks,” you laughed nervously, scratching the back of your neck. Even the thought of him made you intimidated.

He wasn’t just your boss but he was everyone’s boss, even the blonde lady’s. You were just an unpaid intern, hoping he would sign off on all of the work you’d done at the end of your time there. Praying, really.

“Suit yourself,” she shrugged, walking off and leaving a trail of her expensive perfume behind.

You forced yourself to get over the embarrassing coffee situation and focus on the work you were assigned. It was a bunch of mindless filing and sorting, but it gave you something to do.

You often times found yourself pridefully walking out of the Shepherd Freedom Foundation building, knowing that any bystanders would assume you worked there - one of the most successful foundations in Washington. Little did they know, you were really making coffee runs and scans all day.

The day was nearly coming to an end, your brain swimming with names and numbers which you could hardly comprehend anymore. There was a knock on your cubicle, the blonde lady standing there and looking at you expectantly.

“Duncan has asked to see you,” she said cooly.

“Me? Are you sure?” You asked nervously, standing up and straightening out your shirt. You had only met Duncan twice, once on your first day and the other when you had caught the same elevator as him.

“You’re the new intern right?” He asked, making you do a double-take at the rest of the elevator, as if you were checking that he was actually talking to you.

“Yes, I started a few days ago,” you said, trying to stay composed and nonchalant. Duncan tried to guess your name, miserably failing which only caused you to laugh.

“Y/N, actually,” you said, smiling politely.

“Well, Y/N, congratulations on lasting this long,” he said, his voice smooth but humorous as he bid his farewell, stepping out of the elevator as it opened to his floor. A whole floor for his office. Your small cubicle suddenly felt the size of a airplane bathroom.

“Positive. Floor 26,” she said, directing you to his office before walking away again. You already knew the floor number, having memorized it after your interaction with Duncan on the elevator. It was mostly out of fear that you would press the wrong number one day and show up uninvited to his office.

Now, you actually were invited and pressing the “2” then the “6” made you cringe. You nervously ran your fingers through your hair, silently wishing you had spent more time styling it this morning.

The dreadful ding of the elevator filled the small space and the doors pulled open, revealing the spacious floor. Stepping out, you noticed the full wall of windows with an amazing view over the streets of D.C. The room had a sleek, dark mahogany table stretching out over the floorspace and nice luxuries scattered around. Everything looked expensive and you knew you were nowhere near the salary that was probably required to sit at the conference table. You actually had no salary, you bitterly reminded yourself.

“Impressive, right?” Duncan’s voice pulled you out of your daze, making you instantly straighten your posture. He stood in the doorway, a glass of dark liquor in his hand.

“Much better than the other floors,” you laughed, your eyes still skating around the room. You felt like you were a kid again, your parent’s voice in the back of your head reminding you to not touch anything, worried you would break something and they’d have to pay for it.

“There’s more,” he said, cocking his head in the direction of the other room and began to lead the way. You followed him, nearly stopping in your tracks when you saw his actual office.

Everything looked priceless, from the books lining the walls and the expansive desk down to the pens, “Shepherd Freedom Foundation” engraved into the steel. You suddenly felt very out of place.

“After my mother handed down the foundation to me, I did a little remodeling,” he said casually, taking a sip from his shallow glass and you couldn’t help your eyes from glancing at the way his stubbly jaw flexed as he swallowed.

“It’s amazing,” you said, cursing at yourself for your lack of sophisticated vocabulary. This was one of the richest men you had ever met, yet you still spoke as if you were with a casual friend.

Duncan caught you eyeing the leather chair, chuckling softly. “You can sit down,” he said, gesturing to the chair that neatly sat behind his desk.

“Really?”

“Go ahead, see what it feels like,” Duncan said, sipping the remaining liquor in his glass.

You didn’t want to reject his offer, that would be rude. Also, you just really wanted to sit at the desk and feel as luxurious as Duncan did everyday. So you did. Carefully sitting down, you pulled yourself up to the desk, your hands running over the smooth varnished wood.

Duncan walked over to his desk, seating himself on the corner and giving you a smile. You caught a glance of his pants tightening around his thighs and you swore you saw him briefly bit his bottom lip out of the corner of your eye.

“You could have something like this one day,” Duncan said.

“I’ve got a long time until that happens,” you scoffed, shaking your head and relaxing back into the chair.

“You’re not that much younger than me, let me remind you,” he chuckled. You flushed, not meaning to suggest he was old or anything. You were actually impressed that he could handle such a big business at such a young age.

“I’m sorry,” you laughed nervously, rubbing your red face. “I just mean, I’m an unpaid intern amongst hundreds of employees who could probably buy six of my apartments while I struggle to pay for one.”

“A lot of them started out like you,” he said, moving to sit even closer to you on his desk. It was a strange contrast, seeing him casually lounging on the desk when you were nearly scared to touch it. “Interns who were messing up coffee orders and jamming the printers,” he continued, making you laugh at his blatant reference to your coffee mishap earlier.

“Sorry about that, by the way,” you said.

“It happens to the best of us,” he shrugged, giving you another warm smile.

You were really surprised at how relaxed he was. It was a little laughable now how stoic you expected him to be. Some serious, uptight guy who would hardly cast much of a glance your way. Instead, he was having a casual conversation with you, sitting atop his desk like a kid in the lunchroom. The first few buttons of his shirt were popped open, revealing his warm skin and his leather jacket was draped over one of the chairs facing his desk. It definitely lessened your nerves.

“Can I ask why you called me up here?” You asked, the question gnawing at you.

“I just wanted to see how you’re adjusting. I hope I didn’t scare you,” he said, a playful smile still gracing his lips. “I know the boss calling for you can be a bit intimidating.”

“It was surprising to say the least,” you lied. “The blonde isn’t the warmest person to receive that news from anyway.”

“The blonde who wears too much perfume and wears short skirts everyday?” Duncan said, receiving a nod from you. “Of course she didn’t introduce herself. That’s Caroline.”

“Are you two together?” You asked, instantly regretting the question. Who were you to pry into Duncan’s private life?

He let out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement. “Absolutely not. Not my type,” he said.

“Ah,” you said simply. You didn’t know what to say, feeling too embarrassed from practically asking your boss who he sleeps with. Before, you were convinced they were because of all of the time she spent in his office.

“Let me make you a drink,” Duncan said, slipping off of his desk and walking leisurely to the small table across the room, bottles of expensive liquors and delicate glasses sitting on top. You watched as he poured two glasses and stood up to join him. He turned to you, handing you a glass with a slight smile just barely crossing his full lips.

“Is this a test? Drinking on the job…” you asked, taking the glasses from him, your eyes flicking down to his hand when his brushed against yours.

“Internship,” he corrected, taking a sip and giving you a shrug. “Don’t tell the boss… Oh wait,” he said, causing you to chuckle and take a sip from your own glass.

It tasted more expensive than anything else you had drank, even when you splurged on a $50 bottle of champagne when you turned 21. Duncan would probably laugh at your idea of expensive, you thought.

Duncan stepped over to the large window, his gaze fixed on the buildings beyond the thick panel of glass. You joined him at his side, your arm brushing against his accidentally but you didn’t do much to distance yourself from him. Glancing over at his hand that held his glass, you noticed the lack of a wedding ring on his finger.

“Everyone looks for that,” he mumbled, bring his glass to his lips. “They expect me to have some housewife with a kid at home, being passive and submissive like everyone else’s wives.”

“Why don’t you?” you asked. You figured you might as well indulge in hearing about the life of someone much successful than you while you had the opportunity.

“It’s boring,” he glanced at you, his eyes looking brighter in the natural light and up this close. “I’m already running this foundation on my own, I don’t need a trophy wife at my hip. My work should show my success, not an imprisoned woman like the other people here have.”

You nodded, letting your eyes linger on him a little longer than you probably should have. His nose was rounded perfectly at the end, his lips full and defined, wrapping around the brim of his glass with ease, his hair a mess of curls that somehow looked neat and sophisticated.

He turned to look at you, causing you to glance away from a moment and you could feel your face heating up. It was the alcohol, you told yourself. Definitely the alcohol and not your boss.

But then his eyes fell on your lips and you couldn’t stop yourself from dodging your tongue out to wet them. You knocked back the rest of the liquor in your glass, Duncan gently taking the empty glass from your hands and setting it down on the table.

“Think you can handle all of that?” He asked, laughing under his breath.

“I can handle a lot of things,” you lied, shrugging as you turning back to the window to avoid his gaze. You were a lightweight and you could already feel your skin warming up and legs getting weak.

“Is that so?” Duncan said, his voice airy and playful. “Well, hopefully you can handle your time here. I don’t want a boy like you getting too overwhelmed on the job.”

“What kind of ‘boy’ am I?” You quirked a brow at him.

“Hopefully one who comes to me if he’s having problems,” he said, emphasizing the last word.

You turned away from the window, facing him instead and crossing your arms over your chest, a smile tugging on your lips. “Are you typically this generous with your interns?”

“That’s assuming any interns have made it this far. Plus, there’s something about you,” he said, tipping his glass in your direction before taking a sip. “You’re modest. You didn’t come in here trying to brag about everything you’ve accomplished and show off to me. It’s refreshing and admirable.”

“I didn’t think you’d be interested,” you shrugged, willing yourself to not blush at his compliment.

“But I am now,” he said, stepping even closer to you, his chest brushing against your folded arms. He held out his glass to you and you took it from his grasp, sipping the rest from the same spot he had. It was extremely suggestive on both of your ends.

“What do you want to know?” You asked, all of the nerves completely dissolved from your body and replaced with a bit of confidence. Duncan was clearly coming on to you and you didn’t want it to stop, no matter how wrong it might be.

“What are your goals?” He asked, throwing you off with such a serious, blunt question.

“Um,” you stumbled over your words as you thought. “To be successful, maybe run my own business and-” you tried to finished but Duncan cut you off.

“None of that college essay bullshit,” he said, the curse word seeming strange coming from him but you kind of liked it. “What do you want? Be greedy for a second,” he said, shrugging.

“A nice office like this with the view of the Washington Monument,” you said, Duncan nodding as he entertained your ideas. “An apartment that has a concierge,” you laughed and Duncan planted one of his hands beside your head against the glass, a playful smirk on his face. “A vacation,” you said, it nearly coming out as a groan as you leaned your head against the glass. Duncan had leaned even closer, a smile on his lips.

“Where do you want to go?” He asked, it seeming like an offer more than a curious question. It made your heart race and you mindlessly reached up, fixing the collar of his shirt that didn’t actually need fixing, you just wanted an excuse to graze his neck with your fingertips.

“Somewhere with white sand and the ocean,” you said.

“I like a boy who is easy to please. There’s plenty of beaches to choose from,” he said, tilting his head at you.

“Maybe you could make the decision, I’m sure you’ve been to some great places.”

“We could go somewhere far, where it’s warm and there’s a resort that’ll give us endless drinks and the biggest suite they have,” he suggested, biting his lip as he smiled at you. He knew what he was doing and it was absolutely working. You legs were weak and your almost wanted to grab onto him for support.

“What would the tabloids have to say about you taking some boy across the world only to be seen getting couples massages?” You said, smirking as Duncan not-so-subtly leaned in closer to you.

“They’d be impressed that I scored such a catch,” he said, his voice dropped to a low mumble due to your close proximity and his eyes stayed trained on your lips.

“Yeah, right,” you blushed, Duncan reaching up and cupping your face before leaning and connecting your lips. You melted into his touch instantly, your hands going to his chest as he moved his lips against yours gently. His lips tasted of liquor and you knew that you own did too, only fueling you to kiss him even more eagerly. Your tongues met and you let out a content sigh when his teeth caught your bottom lip.

“You better start buying some summer clothes,” Duncan mumbled against your lips with a smirk, going back to kissing you even harder.

You were too lost in the man to think about how unprofessional or reckless this was, you fingers gripping the expensive material of his shirt and pulling yourself even closer to him. Duncan Shepherd might’ve been your boss but he was also an amazing kisser.

tags:@dudesorriso @silkyhoneybaby @avesatanaslangdon @lucifer-owns-this-pussy @sodanova @romanoffkittens @heelsamizayn @lovely-langdon @langdonpilots @cryptid-coalition @cherryberryann @omnipotentdemoness @marzipan-romanoff @featherpool-852 @langdonsdemon @slasherloversposts @lxngdonscoven @01-800-mary @mcenziehughes @kylolangdon @kinlovecody @sammythankyou @duncvn @fernshorrorstory @amytakesmanhattan @queencocoakimmie @yourkingcodyfern

#duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd x reader #duncan shepherd x male reader #hoc #duncan shepherd fanfic #i dont want to out unrelated tags so thats literally it yeehaw

203 notes · View notes

dyslexicsquirrel · 5 years

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), T’Challa Additional Tags: Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Infinity War and Engame didn’t happen, just go with me here, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts

Stony Bingo fill (square T3) Prompt: Just for once everyone lives

Tony woke up gasping, clutching at his chest. It felt tight and his skin was clammy. He sat up, gulping in air.

“You okay?” Hearing Steve’s voice and feeling the hand his husband pressed to his back helped ground him.

“Nightmare,” he said, voice hoarse like he’d been screaming. He couldn’t have been though, because Steve would have woken up as soon as he made a noise. The bed shifted and then Steve was wrapping his arms around him. Tony let his head fall against his shoulder.

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not—not right now.” Maybe never that had been… worse than any nightmare he’d ever had. Worse than the ones after Afghanistan, after the Chitauri, after Sokovia.

“Okay,” Steve said, voice low and soothing, one hand rubbing up and down his arm. That was the thing with Steve, he never pushed for more than Tony was capable of giving. He was patient, waiting for when or if Tony was ready to open up. That had been one of the worst parts of the nightmare—he and Steve weren’t together. The world, hell the damn universe, was in danger and they weren’t together. People—everyone it had felt like—had died and he couldn’t help that feeling of ‘If Steve and I were facing this together this wouldn’t be happening.’ That they would have won before… before lines had been crossed, people sacrificed.

But it hadn’t been real. He still clutched at Steve anyway, the remnants of watching the life he had crumble still clinging to his mind.

“You’re alright, Tony. I’ve got you.” Steve said the words and Tony believed them. They had faced so much and come out the other side. The Accords had almost destroyed them, but they came together in the end.

“What are you doing here?” Steve had asked Tony when he showed up after Peggy’s funeral.

“I knew her, you know. Peggy. I don’t know if I ever told you that. Her and my dad were friends, but I’m sure you knew that much.” Tony had looked away, to the front of the church, the silence seeming to echo. Finally he sighed, looked back at Steve who was frowning. “You asked what would happen if the panel wanted to send us somewhere we didn’t want to go or there was somewhere we needed to be that they wouldn’t let us?”

“Yeah?”

“Then we make them listen,” Tony told him fiercely in a quiet voice, gripping Steve’s arm. “I don’t think there’s anything we can’t accomplish together, but Steve… we have to be together.” He had hardly ever called him Steve then, he and Pepper had just broken up and there had always been something simmering between he and Steve; calling him anything other than Cap or some slightly insulting nickname had felt like too much. He swallowed and took a step back. “Just promise me you’ll think about it? We’ll help Barnes, we’ll do what we need to do, but think about it before you do anything that can’t be taken back.”

Steve had looked away and Tony had taken it as a dismissal. “Tony.” He looked back at Steve over his shoulder. The other man was standing straight, shoulders back in that proud stance Tony both hated and adored. “I’ll think about it...”

Steve had signed and with him Wanda, but the whole Barnes situation had almost blown up in their face, too. Zemo had almost gotten his way, but he and Natasha had convinced Steve to not try to do it alone and Steve had agreed as long as Bucky got to come along.

“The WSO agreed to not lock him up in a very deep prison with very thick walls now that we know he wasn’t responsible for the bombing, but there’s no way—”

Steve cut him off. “I almost didn’t bring him back in. But I thought about what you said. Together, right? Well, this is his fight, too, Tony. Not to mention no one knows that facility or the training those other soldiers got better than he does.”

Tony’s eyes cut to Barnes who was very quiet. Tony wanted nothing more than to bury Barnes in the ground after what Steve and Natasha had told him he’d done. “Do you even remember them?”

Barnes’ jaw clenched, that metal arm of his whiting mechanically when his hand did the same, but he didn’t look away, didn’t try to hide from Tony’s anger. “No. But I wish I did. So I could apologize and mean it.”

That more than anything had gotten through to him. “Suit up, we leave in five and we’ll deal with the fall out later,” he said harshly before leaving the room.

And it was a good thing he knew before they walked into that base. Zemo tried to use it against them, to tear them apart. The video had been hard to watch. When Tony raised his gauntlet, he honestly hadn’t been sure if he was going to try and shoot Barnes or not. He hadn’t, though, because ultimately his parents and Barnes were both victims of Hydra. He shot Zemo instead right before T’Challa walked in. Tony had punched Barnes when the man tried to thank him later on the jet, but he figured he was due that.

Things had been rocky for a few years after that. The Accords had done their job, but Steve had also been right. They’d had to fight on more than one occasion to go somewhere that had ultimately needed their help, but having Fury and T’Challa on their side? It had mostly worked out and even when it didn’t, they were still together.

“What time is it?”

Steve unwound one of his arms from around Tony to check his phone so he almost, almost, didn’t have time to miss it’s warmth. “Just after 5.” Tony made an unhappy noise at being awake so early and Steve chuckled. “You can go back to sleep for a few hours. Pepper’s doctor’s appointment isn’t until 8.”

“Don’t think I can,” Tony said, but he was grumpy about it.

“Let’s get you some coffee then,” Steve said, herding him out of bed and ignoring Tony’s grumbles. It was one of the rare days where Steve wasn’t on training rotation and there hadn’t been any news of a mission. Tony wanted to spend it in bed, but he also knew his husband and Steve would have been getting up to take his run with Sam soon anyway.

They got dressed, though that was a relative term since ‘dressed’ meant ‘pajamas’ in this case. Tony had gotten more lax about what he wore this last year since he hung up his armor. He wasn’t getting any younger and he’d prefer to spend his time in the workshop making things for other people to use. Plus now with Pepper having the baby, Tony wanted more freedom in his schedule since she split her time between LA and New York with Stark Industries.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this whole thing?” Tony turned to look at Steve as they made their way to the communal kitchen.

Steve pulled a face. “If I wasn’t okay with it, I wouldn’t have told you I was. Besides, it's a little late now seeing as she’s eight months along.”

“I know, I know. It’s just, I want to make sure. It’s kind of a big thing—your husband donating sperm to his ex so she can have a baby.”

“You and I both know Pepper is more than just your ex, Tony,” Steve said over his shoulder as he started to make the coffee.

Tony sat at the island. “That should make it harder to handle, not easier. Are you sure Erskine didn’t completely grow you in a lab? No one is this good.”

“She’s your family, Tony. And if she’s yours that means she’s mine. That's what this means.” He held up his left hand to show off his ring. “You help family, it’s what you do,” he said meaningfully and Tony had to look away because he knew Steve was talking about Barnes now. They weren’t good, the two of them. Tony didn’t think they ever would be, but he was Steve’s family and, yeah, he hadn’t put up a fuss when T’Challa had suggested Barnes going to Wakanda to try and fix what Hydra had done to his brain.

“How’s Barnes liking those goats anyway?” It was the only acknowledgment to the gratitude on Steve’s face Tony was going to make.

“There’s new babies.” Steve turned back to the coffee maker when it beeped. He took three mugs down from the cabinet and Tony frowned at that, but didn’t comment. He’s learned that sometimes it was better not to ask questions. “You know, if someone had told me back in Brooklyn that Bucky Barnes would be raising goats one day, I would have thought they were crazy.”

“I bet.” Steve might not see Bucky all that often, but knowing he was safe and whole and happy made Steve happy and whatever made Steve happy was good with Tony, despite his own conflicted feelings. Maybe he did understand where Steve was coming from with the Pepper/baby situation. “Did I tell you Pepper’s having a girl?”

“You did,” Steve said, carrying over the three mugs. He slid one towards Tony who took a grateful sip and held the other one out. It made sense a second later when Pietro slid into the kitchen.

“Is that for me?” He asked with a big smile. Steve nodded, relinquishing the mug to him before picking up his own and Tony rolled his eyes. Damn super soldier hearing.

“I will never get used to that,” he told Steve who shrugged.

“Him and Wanda have been doing well with their training. And, yes, you did tell me that you and Pepper were having a girl.” Tony smiled, chagrined, and shrugged. It was still hard sometimes to admit that out loud to Steve. Steve placed a hand over Tony’s where it lay against the countertop. “I’m fine, Tony, I promise. It’s not like we’re going to have biological kids of our own. I have enough on my hands with the ones we keep taking in, between the twins and Peter and Harley now that he’s going to NYU.”

“We got some good ones, don’t we?”

“And we’ll have another one when your daughter is born. I’m okay being a stepdad.”

Tony flipped his hand over to he could lace their fingers together and raised their interlocked hands together to place a kiss to the back of Steve’s. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Damned if I know.”

“Language, Captain,” Tony said, sounding scandalized, making his eyes go comically wide.

“You’re really never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope,” Tony replied happily, taking a sip of his coffee. Steve tugged his hand free so he could round the bar and slide onto a stool next to Tony. He looked serious, more serious than normal. “Uh-oh, are you asking for a divorce? I get Peter, you take the twins.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You wish you could get rid of me that easily, pal.”

Tony never wanted to get rid of him and the fear that Steve might change his mind was always there no matter how many years of them being together passed. “I know there’s something you want to tell me. Out with it.”

Steve took a deep breath. “I’m thinking about retiring.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “Captain America is allowed to do that?”

“They can’t exactly force me to fight and, well, I think I’ve more than earned a break. I’d still want to work here, train the recruits, but…”

Tony tilted his head, considering him. “Would you really be able to hang up the shield?”

“That wasn’t really what I had in mind. I was thinking more about handing it off to someone else.”

“Seriously?”

“Sam would need a new suit.”

“Wilson? Why him?” Not that he didn’t think Wilson could do it or that he didn’t like him, but… there were a lot of people Steve could ask, a whole compound full of recruits.

“I think he can do it justice,” Steve told him softly. Steve had been carrying that mantle for so many years, even while he’d been frozen in the ice, that Tony didn’t really think he could ever understand what giving it up would mean. If he thought Wilson could do it then Wilson probably could.

“Okay. If that’s what you want. I can give his wings a new paint job.”

“What about my wings?” Sam asked, walking into the kitchen, dressed for a run. Because who else in the house had wings.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Steve said, standing. He pressed a kiss to Tony’s temple. “I’ll be back in a second, Sam.”

When Steve had left the kitchen, Sam leaned back against the counter, a mug full of coffee cradled between his hands. He tipped his head in the direction Steve had gone. “He okay?”

“He will be.” Steve came back out a few minutes later, dressed in gym shorts and a tight t-shirt. Tony grabbed his hand when he walked passed to follow same out of the kitchen and outside. Steve raised his brows in question. “Have you ever thought about growing a beard?”

“A beard? Can’t say that I had, no.”

It was one of the things from his nightmare that hadn’t been completely awful. The other was his daughter. If his real kid was even half as amazing, he was going to be a lucky man. He also needed to suggest the name Morgan. Pepper had an uncle by that name if he remembered correctly so it wouldn’t be that weird. “Yeah,” he told Steve. “I mean if you’re retiring and all. Won’t have to worry about it throwing off the aesthetics of the suit.”

Steve huffed in amusement. “I’ll think about it,” he said then pressed a kiss to Tony’s lips and left. Tony rubbed at his chest absently and sipped his coffee. That damn dream was still lingering. He got up to find his phone. He needed to call Peter to hear his voice. It was early, but he might be up. Then maybe he could track Natasha down. He just needed to reassure himself that everyone was fine and then he could relax.

It had only been a nightmare.

#stonybingo #cap-ironman bingo fill #stonyfic #stevetony #not ca:cw compliant #IW and endgame didn’t happen

3 notes · View notes

rhellsuckssticks · 7 years

Text

Long Nights

Something super self-indulgent that would’ve died in my notebook if I didn’t have trash friends who encouraged this. (Thanks Kay) But yes, enjoy a super self-indulgent AU that isn’t canon but I still like. Also introduction to Leigh.

Three nights of no sleep, and Stix could feel an exhausted pain start to emanate from his chest. Three days, it was only three days but it felt like eons as he rested his head against his crossed arms, stooped over the edge of the bassinet like if he watched for long enough something would get better. Everyone kept saying it was only a fever, but the comforting words of others weren't usually enough to sway the ex-Stormtrooper; especially when such words were coming from people like Caez, or even Vinn. It wasn't that he didn't trust them - well, he didn't trust Caez, and wasn't planning on it anytime soon - but Vinn was a hybrid and that changed his experiences. And Caez... Well, needless to say Stix wouldn't trust them with an ice-cream cone, let alone with knowing what was best for his kid.

Tired gaze still lingering on the small bundle secured safely in her bassinet, Stix exhaled deeply and brought a hand down into the nest, calloused fingers tenderly nudging the baby's delicate little hand until she instinctively gripped his pointer finger, her eyes fluttering for a moment before she drifted back to sleep. Even when sleeping, even when sick and running a fever his kid never failed to disappoint him with the small, sweet things she did. Maybe she could sense her parent's anxiousness, maybe she was just a sweet little child - he never knew, and Rhell wasn't sure if Leigh was force sensitive yet - but either way Stix was acutely aware that children, babies especially, weren't as busy as Leigh seemed to be all the time.

When not sick and sleeping she was constantly touching, constantly patting things with her little hands and marvelling at everything with big, dark chocolate eyes. They were his eyes that always gazed up at him, and while he sort of wished that she had taken after Rhell - her eyes always seeming more expressive, more like a shock of sweet honey brown as opposed to his dark, almost pitch gaze - he couldn't help but feel the corner of his mouth twitch when he overheard the Inquisitor crooning at the infant, praising how beautiful and perfect their kid was, her even going so far as to hum sweet praises about how 'Leigh, sugar, you have such lovely dark eyes like Papa.' when Rhell thought Stix was too busy to listen in on her.

Rhell was... He knew she was too prideful to admit anything out loud just casually, but the fact that all barriers - all the armour she wore around her heart like a shield, like she needed to protect herself from being hurt all over again, like she was afraid that her hiding behind her walls would be the safer bet in the long run - seemed to melt away to nothing while she hummed and fawned over their kid had Stix at least relieved. Relieved that she wanted to be more open than her parents ever were, even if it was a challenge to get there. But he wasn't about to let her slip into the feeling that she needed to be her parents. Not when-

"... Do you want to move the bassinet into our room for the night?" A familiar and calm voice asked, Stix blinking and jolting as he realized he was starting to doze off, turning around on his stool and looking over at his partner as Rhell leaned in the doorway, her looking just as tired as Stix while repeating herself, "Well? We can move it and not wake her up if both of us take an end and be careful. If it makes you feel better we can even put it on your side of the-" Only to go silent as Stix bolted from his seat, his stool clattering loudly and making him spin and fumble for it so it didn't fall to the ground and make even more noise as Rhell covered her mouth to stifle laughter.

Snorting and rolling her eyes, the Inquisitor tiptoed into the nursery as Stix's face went bright red, her leaning up and kissing his nose gently before stepping back and making her way to the other end of the bassinet, her gripping the edges and waiting for Stix as he padded towards the other end, him picking up the head of the small crib and them both nodding at each other before very carefully lifting the nest. Rhell backing up out of the nursery with ease, they both kept silent as they made their way down the hall, Rhell proving the mundane usefulness of her own Froce Sensitivity as she made a shadow of herself put in the code for their own room.

Door opening with a familiar metallic pshhhhh, The Inquisitor continued to back up into the room until they got to Stix's side of the bed, both of them setting down the bassinet and peeking down at its contents - Leigh still being asleep, her little hands flexing and grasping at nothing while she dreamed - before quietly climbing into their bed, Stix huffing and taking off his shirt before laying down on his back, him glancing over at the crib before resting his wrist against the edge, hand dipped into the infant nest to ease his own worried mind as Rhell crawled up on his other side and laid down against his chest, Stix looking down at his partner as she whispered, "... Things will be fine, Trooperman. Kids get sick, you can't control everything that happens." Before leaning up slightly and pressing her mouth against his.

Despite everything, Rhell was still Rhell. She tasted like Rhell, she felt like Rhell. Her hair was shorter and she at times looked more tired than she ever used to, but she still... She still looked like Rhell. And the way she laid back against him, the way her body fit the shape of his side - how her leg always hooked over his thigh and hand rested against his chest so she could feel his heart beating beneath her fingertips - was just as familiar as anything else. It felt assuring, almost comforting by this point how Rhell just fit with Stix like it was habit, both acting codependent at times without realizing it and the both of them only getting worse as Leigh came along.

Exhaling deeply and closing his eyes as he relaxed, Stix felt too-tight muscles unwind throughout his body as he let his brain drift away while he remembered how unsure and - dare he admit - fearful he felt when being informed he was going to be a parent. Things being static - the same every time, a routine he could follow and expect the same from day to day - was what felt most natural, and now that was out the window as a .3% accident occurred. They both didn't skirt around it, Leigh was an absolute accident, but once it was said and done and Stix was asked if he wanted to hold his baby for the first time, he just nodded dumbly and opened his arms to the small bundle. Right then and there, while looking down at the squalling newborn who had barely been in the world for ten minutes, it dawned that things changing could be okay. Not everything was a life or death struggle, and not everything changed. Rhell? Unchanging. At least, in all the aspects that Stix liked best, she was unchanging.

Dozing off while thinking to himself, the gentle tug of something against his fingers had Stix grunting and wrinkling his nose unhappily as he was woken up a few hours later, the ex-Stormtrooper exhaling tiredly and blinking away sleep for a moment before realizing what was tugging at his fingers, Stix sitting up and Rhell whining as her source of heat moved away, him kicking his legs over the edge of the bed and looking down into the bassinet as eyes dark like coffee - his eyes - gazed up at him while small hands pulled on his digits in a demand for attention.

Leaning over and lifting the small baby out of her nest, Stix let relief wash over him as Leigh's fever seemed gone, her eyes bright and interested as she made grabby hands towards his face before looking over at Rhell and making grabby hands towards her instead. Huffing and rolling his eyes while Rhell sat up tiredly, the ex-Trooper muttered sardonically, "Yeah, you're definitely mine. Always choosing to go to where the food is before anything else." Before handing the infant off to Rhell as she unbuttoned the top of her nightdress and laughed at her husband.

Adjusting the infant in her arms and letting Leigh latch comfortably, Rhell snorted and gave Stix her usual shit-eating grin as she teased, "Yeah, sure, I bet you're real jealous of me. Sooooo jealous that I have to drop everything because someone created a perpetually hungry kid. Fuck, I'd like to see how happy you would be if you were the favourite just because you were the food source." She remarked with a laugh, Stix rolling his eyes and flopping back on the mattress as he pushed his hair from his face, Rhell still laughing until he turned over to face her and gave her a crooked look.

"... So you're admitting that you wouldn't be the favourite if you weren't the food maker? I'm shocked, considering you defended otherwise yesterday." He taunted back, Rhell sticking her tongue out at him in a juvenile way before turning her nose up and scooting away from her partner, Stix scowling at her before sitting up again and flopping his head against her open lap, demanding attention wordlessly while drawling out, "Oh don't be like that. You looooooooooooove me, remember? And now you're double-stuck with me for all eternity." He commented, snorting and lifting his hand to point at the thin silver band on his finger as Rhell chuffed and rolled her eyes derisively, fighting back a smile while muttering.

"Figures. I choose someone who thinks he's funny now that he's a dad."

#Rhell #Stix #Ch: Blue Roses #Ch: Guard Dog #OTP: Pleurosis #AU: Slug Eyebrows in the Gene Pool #My Writing #star wars #star wars oc

1 note · View note