#stevetony drabble

[carsonian]

avengers rock band au. not sure if i want to take this further. let me know if you're into it!

Content warnings: drug abuse, implied sexual content | Also, apparently 2024 is the year of pining!Steve....?

Steve stops at the foot of the bed, already done with the conversation set out before him. With a sigh, he says, "you can't run from this forever."

Tony's draped across the bed like he's an art installation, some avant-garde, postmodern posturing of an insouciant rockstar sniffing a line of coke. Because it's Tony, he does the line clean, and when his head finally slants to acknowledge Steve's presence, he doesn't look any lesser for having snorted a little plastic baggie of white powder.

He doesn't even have the grace to trip over his comeback. "I don't need forever." He turns over onto his back, stretching his arms above him with a slow inhale that carries on, and on. "That's nice."

"It can't possibly have hit your bloodstream already."

"I was talking about the stretch."

Steve feels his eyebrows knit tight and angry, and does his best to quell it as he walks over then sits down on the bed. "Tomorrow. That's the deadline. You said we'd look it over."

"God, since when is rock and roll about meeting deadlines?" Tony grouses.

"You're doing the Jagger routine? Really?" Leaning forward, Steve presses the flat of his thumb against Tony's pulse point until the man's wincing back. "Get up, come on."

"I'm incapacitated." Tony gestures to the plastic baggie.

"Your choice, isn't it?" It's a little sharper than he intends, than he promised himself he'd be. It is Tony's choice. Badgering him about it isn't going to help. "I've seen you give speeches with more a' that shit in you, cawm on. You ain't getting out of this."

"You're such a dick." Tony grumbles but it's the grumbling of a resigned man, and sure enough, in the moment after, the brunet sits up and shuffles close to him. Steve had brought his guitar with him, his trusty ol' Les Paul, and he puts it in his lap now. "I'm still figuring out the words," he warns Tony, and the man hums, eyes blinking shut the way they do any time he's listening to something for the first time.

Steve's not the singer of the group, no, that's the brown-eyed bugger himself, and his voice can't quite hit the high notes. Still, he's used to this, relaying lyrics to Tony, and there's no discomfort about him as he sings, soft and a little husky, about the twisted machinations of media politics and the displacement of the working class. The political songs are always trickier because wording matters so very much--and while he's good at punchlines, good at finding the lyrics that'll stick, he's not the greatest at stringing it together into perfect, lyrical harmony. Structure. Narrative. That's where Tony excels, pulling in the threads, rearranging things, knowing what to cut out, what to bring in.

Steve's sitting cross-legged with his guitar in his lap, and when he gets to the bridge, Tony shifts to rest his head atop Steve's knee. His eyes blink open, and the look in them is thoughtful.

He finishes the song, and keeps his fingers poised ready over the strings.

"You've got a thought," he murmurs. Tony fixes one eye on him, the other shut so it's like looking at a still-frame wink. It pulls at the barely there wrinkles around his eyes in an interesting way that Steve absolutely doesn't pay attention to.

"Lead up to the bridge isn't strong enough." Tony says, "for one."

"I reckon that'll be percussion. Haven't picked Clint's brains yet. Cooper's still got that nasty fever." He explains.

"Still? Thought they went to the doc's?" Tony asks.

"It's sticking around." Steve says, "I think Laura's keen for another visit, though I'm not sure how much that'll help."

"You and your distrust of hospitals." Tony turns his eyes heavenward, rolling off Steve's lap and onto the bed. "Instead of ending with, giving it all to the very few, why not lead with, giving it all to the very few, into nobody's seeing what it all comes to. And you repeat that thrice before the chorus. Extends the song, yeah, but it gives that first part of the bridge more heft."

Steve sings it, Tony joining in to demonstrate how each iteration gets more caterwaul-like, more desperate. It works with the isolation of the bridge and Steve smiles, private and quiet. "Works." He makes a note in his writing journal, flipping the blue slide down from his multi-pen.

He's got a system: black for writing drafts, green for chords, blue for amendments. In between lines and lines of black, blue and green--scrawled down whenever he gets a good line or chord in his head--are throwaway lyrics and beats in red, from times when Tony leans over and whispers something into his ear, whatever brainworm's gotten ahold of him. And sure, Tony could pen it down himself but he travels light, and Steve doesn't think Tony's actually gone into his notes app before, is practically familial with the virtual assistant for anything he needs done. So it all comes to Steve.

He doesn't mind; sometimes, Tony's ideas spiral into his own. Other times, it's just nice to write something in a different colour.

They pick through the song like this, Steve discarding some of Tony's ideas which of course prompts Tony to spitball more outlandish suggestions, shuffling up onto his elbows. It's fun, this. Tony getting riled up ranks high for entertainment value alone, but Tony riled up over music? It's a privilege. Even as Tony's fingers being to tap manically against the back of Steve's elbow and his teeth begin to grind from the cocaine, it's not enough to break the normal, honest, downright beautiful joy of songwriting.

After the third time Steve catches Tony's legs from folding around his neck in a pretzel-like headstand, he clicks his tongue and squeezes the man's ankle. "Alright. You're bouncing off the walls. Go shag a model or something." Steve pats his ankle, "go on. I hereby relieve you of your brain."

Tony's whoop is longwinded and obnoxious, but the grin he sets upon Steve is wild, all unholy danger. He points at Steve, and says, "I wanna explore every crack in the fucking universe," here, he licks his lips absentmindedly, "and I'm starting with that sound tech's."

"You're vile." Steve says, calling after Tony as he heads out of the room, "don't fuck Sandra, she talks shit about you when you're taking a piss break!"

"That's not a turn-off!" Tony sing-songs as he flicks the door shut behind him.

[frankthesnek]

♡ sharing a kiss before going in for work (but make it accidental first kiss due to sleep deprivation)

Normally, I only do each prompt once, but since this is so different from the other ask for this one I'll do it again! Thank you 😘

Coming in Hot

Rated G

Prompt: a kiss before going to work

900 words

Steve stood next to the toaster, tapping his fingers on the counter as he waited for his bagel to be done. It was early, and the tower was calm. He'd seen Clint and Natasha preparing for their sparring session an hour or so earlier, but otherwise, it was a ghost town. The toaster finally finished, the crisp pop and ding of it shutting off startling him in the quiet of the kitchen. He plopped his breakfast onto a plate and checked his watch.

It wouldn't be a ghost town much longer, he would bet. Pulling the cream cheese from the fridge, he settled at the breakfast bar and finished preparing his food as he waited.

“Watch it Cap, Stark's coming in hot,” Clint drawled with an amused tone as he entered the kitchen a moment later.

“You don't say?” Steve asked, unsurprised and dry sounding.

The archer just nodded, looking far too happy as he poured the last of the coffee into a mug. 

“Fuck I'm late!” Right on cue Tony entered the space, tie hanging undone around his neck as he fumbled with his cufflinks. “Why does she keep scheduling meetings so early? She knows I'm not a morning person.”

“This wouldn't happen to be the meeting Pepper already rescheduled twice because you keep missing it?” Steve asked, the casualness in his tone giving away that he already knew the answer. 

“Maybe,” Tony grumbled as he picked up the empty coffee pot and frowned. “Barton, I'm gonna kill you,” he promised, glaring at the other man's steaming cup of coffee.

In response, Clint deliberately took a slow drink, holding Tony's eye while he did. 

“Definitely gonna get you. I swear your next batch of arrows is gonna blow up right in your smug little face,” Tony cursed and made a grab for the nearly full mug.

“Extra coffee for you on the bar,” Steve said, pointing to a thermus he'd filled earlier. “Better hurry, if you don't leave now, you'll be late.”

“Thank you,” Tony nearly moaned and picked up the travel cup.

“Uh-huh,” Steve drawled and held up half of his bagel before Tony could try stealing it from his plate. 

“Thanks,” Tony repeated with a sigh, taking it gladly. “Why do you know my schedule better than me?”

“Tony, the hotdog vendor in Central Park knows your schedule better than you do,” Clint piped up with a snort of laughter.

Steve chuckled, and he watched Tony hold the bagel in his mouth as he quickly did his tie. Nimble fingers tugging it into a knot that had no right to be as neat as it was for how fast it had been made. 

“I refuse to acknowledge the truth of that,” Tony spoke around a mouth full and held the thermus up towards Steve. “Is it—”

“Cool enough to drink? Yes.” Steve supplied, taking a bite from his remaining half of the bagel.

“You're an angel,” Tony said blissfully. Then he leaned over the bar and pressed a fast but firm kiss to Steve's mouth before rushing out, already calling the elevator via Jarvis before he left the room. 

Steve's bagel fell from his lax fingers, plopping back to the plate cream cheese side down.

“Did he just?” Clint asked, looking over at Steve with wide eyes.

“Uh…yeah,” Steve muttered, dumbstruck, his lips tingling from the surprise contact.

“And you guys aren't?”

“Nope.” 

The two men stared at each other for a moment in confused silence. Steve felt his cheeks grow hot. Tony, his friend and long-term crush, had just kissed him. Lips warm, soft, and real against his mouth. Clint was giving him a knowing smirk but was thankfully holding his tongue. A moment later, the quiet was broken by the buzzing of Steve’s phone on the counter.

“It's Tony,” he said, looking down at the smiling picture of Tony in his purple sunglasses that was set as the man’s icon. The heat of flush skirted down his neck and settled in his chest.

“Speaker, put him on speaker,” Clint demanded, coming to stand next to his friend.

Swallowing Steve swiped the call open and tapped the speaker function. “Hello?”

“I can't believe I'm even going to ask this but I'm rushed, suffering from a caffeine deficiency, and am severely sleep deprived so the last fifteen minutes are a blur—did I just kiss you?”

“Um, yes?”

Tony said nothing, only the quiet shuffle of him still rushing to his car coming through the phone.

“Hey playboy, this is the part where you ask him out,” Clint supplied, flinching away before Steve could swat him. 

“Do you have me on speaker?” Tony questioned, his tight voice sounding more flustered than angry.

“Maybe?” Steve hedged.

“Oh for Christ—” and the line clicked off.

“Wow, if that's how smooth he normally is, I can't imagine how he used to snag all the ladies. Must be the money,” Clint chuckled, picking up his coffee and heading off. 

Sighing and shaking his head, Steve poked his sad upside down bagel. Just as he was starting to think it truly had been an accident and meant nothing, his phone buzzed with a text from Tony. Steve smiled as he read it. 

‘Free for a lunch date after my meeting?’

Steve started to type out that, yes, he was free when a new message popped up, turning his smile into a joyful grin.

‘And that does not count as our first kiss!!’

[riotwritesthings]

Pride month request!!!

Color: purple my beloved

Ship: stony

Word prompt(if you want): sunflowers

Love youuuuuuu 🥰🥰🥰

I love youuuuu and you've already read this but I guess everyone else can read it too lol

Royal Purple

Stony - T, 600 - Fluff, artist!Steve Rogers

Yes this is technically part of "a series of learning experiences" But that's not important to read it

-

“You know, when you asked to paint me, this is not what I had in mind.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Steve asks, lifting his brush as he looks up at him.

“No no, just making conversation,” Tony says quickly.

“And moving my canvas in the process.”

“Hey, you knew I was gonna talk the whole time,” Tony points out, “and if you didn’t, well, are you even my boyfriend?”

“I did, and I am,” Steve says happily, turning his attention back to the field of wildflowers he’s painting across Tony’s stomach. “So what did you think I meant?” He asks as he carefully adds flourishes of color among the shades of green.

Tony hums, letting his gaze drift up to the ceiling, and finally says, “I don’t want to say now.”

"Did it involve the phrase ‘French girls’?"

“Noo…” Tony says slowly, trying to fight down a laugh, and he feels the bed beneath them shaking as Steve chuckles fondly. He quickly gets bored of staring at the ceiling and cranes his head down again to watch the movement of the paintbrush as he says, “So, tell me about these flowers.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks distractedly.

“Well, like those purple ones, what are they called?”

"I don’t know any of the names," Steve says with a laugh, then lifts his brush and looks up when Tony makes surprised sputtering noises at him. “I just know what they look like, sort of!” He defends, “I’m working from memory here!”

“So you’re just making things up,” Tony says with an offended sniff, "and here I thought I was going to be your masterpiece."

“Hey now, I am putting thought into it here,” Steve pouts, flipping his paintbrush around to poke the end against one of the flowers near Tony’s hip. “This color is called royal purple, and I’ve been thinking that it would look perfect on you,” Steve explains, then shoots him a cheeky grin as he adds, “You know, because you’re my prince charming.”

“Boo, cheesy,” Tony says, but he can’t fight down his smile or the pleased flush rising in his cheeks.

“You love it,” Steve says confidently, grinning wider, and Tony can’t exactly argue that. Steve props himself up and then leans over to grab a different brush, his elbow digging into Tony’s thigh a little. “Here,” he says as he settles back down sprawled between Tony’s legs,“I’ll add a flower I do know the name of.”

“The suspense builds,” Tony says, dropping his head back against the pillow again.

He tries to figure out what Steve is painting from the ticklish drag of the brush, but he quickly loses track. So instead he lets his eyes fall closed and just tries not to squirm until Steve announces that he’s done.

“Alright, lets see the extent of your flower knowlege,” Tony says, lifting his head and looking down at himself. He finds a large, familiar yellow flower spread across his skin, the tips of its bright petals reaching from his ribs to his navel.

“Its a sunflower,” Steve says unnecessarily, smiling widely up at him and Tony can feel it coming as Steve adds, “because you’re my sunshine.”

"So cheesy," Tony accuses, but his voice comes out thick and he can’t resist reaching out. He gets his hand in Steve’s hair, on the curve of his shoulder, and then pulls him up into a kiss, heedless of the paint smearing between them.

“You love it,” Steve says again, smiling against his lips.

"I love you, Tony corrects, even though they both know its the same thing.

[soliloquent-stark]

Do u think when stevetony first get together there’s a fight for who gets which side of the bed? Because I think so 🤔

dear anon, i am SO glad you asked this. you have no idea what monster you've created with this question.

my short answer: yes.

my long answer:

stony ficlet: the left side of the bed

steve noticed it from the moment he started spending the night in tony's room, when their supposedly casual sex slowly started turning into more — tony always went for the left side of the bed, much to steve's dismay. as a result, he'd have restless nights full of tosses and turns, every single time. if only he could sleep on that same side...

the thing is, steve didn't have a preference just for the sake of it. between sharing a tiny bed with his mom as a child and being in a literal war, he could fall asleep anywhere. hell, tony's bed is too soft for him anyway, and sometimes the floor seemed more inviting.

so, this wasn't about him being fastidious. this was about safety: steve always had to be the closest person to the door, so he could be the first one in the line of fire, so he could protect the other person. and it just so happens that, the way the room is set up, the side near the exit was the left one.

he didn't want to bring it up and make it into a thing, so one day, a few weeks into their new and fragile relationship, he simply settled in that spot while tony was in the bathroom. he figured it was a minor enough gesture; surely he didn't need to ask?

to say it pissed tony off was an understatement.

he didn't even give a reason why this was so important to him — and steve had witnessed him sleeping diagonally on his workbench, and in a chair while slouched on the table during meetings, and even standing against a goddamn doorframe once.

"if i remember correctly, and i always do, you were leaning on the right side of it", steve had said. "but i dunno, maybe it was more comfortable than this perfectly fine right side of your bed?"

tony only got more upset.

"i dunno," he parroted, "was the ice more comfortable than this perfectly fine right side of the bed?"

it was a low blow, but steve didn't take the bait. he found no other option but to admit to tony the truth about his hang-up, which somehow escalated the situation further.

"for fuck's sake steve, you don't need to be a fucking human shield! you're off duty, and i'm no damsel in distress."

it's not that steve thought iron man needed his safeguarding. but that's how his brain was wired. he needed to protect — he'd already let down so many people in his life. he hadn't been able to get his mom medical help, he hadn't stopped bucky from falling, and he already had witnessed tony fly to his near-death once, as part of a team steve was the leader of. guarding became his default mode. but tony was so stubborn and he simply didn't get it.

steve just sighed, but tony must have sensed his discomfort, because the fight seemed to leave his body.

then, with a soft and tentative voice, tony admitted to steve that he preferred that side because it had always been how he slept, since childhood. he always left the other part of the bed empty, and his mother would often sit there as she tucked him in, with a kiss on his forehead and a caress on his cheek.

"that's an example of the gentle side of her parenting that howard wasn't allowed to see because he'd disapprove of coddling me," tony had said. "her affection happened mostly behind the closed doors of my room, and we weren't caught once, because he never came to say goodnight."

steve felt his heart ache as he wordlessly rolled to the other side of the bed, making space for tony in his designated spot, and opening his arms for a hug.

he should have realized that tony was just like him, and that the reasons behind his neuroses were often tied to the same worries and trepidations that also drove steve mad.

it's not going to be easy to sleep like this, he had thought as he was holding his boyfriend close to his chest, but it's okay. it's for tony.

however, the following evening, when he entered the bedroom and saw that tony had moved everything around so that the right side of the bed was facing the door, he laughed with relief.

"i find solutions for everything, don't i," tony joked. "not like it wasn't the obvious thing to do, anyways."

but steve was aware that by doing what he did, he had totally messed up his carefully designed layout; even steve could admit that the room looked a bit silly now. somehow, tony genuinely seemed unbothered by it, and was just pleased that this way, nobody had to compromise on the quality of their sleep.

steve fell a little bit in love, just then.

gif sources: due date (2010) and before we go (2014)

find longer fics on my ao3

[ishipallthings]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Additional Tags: Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Magic, Cuddle Pollen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Slash, Caretaking, Post-Avengers (2012), Triple Drabble Summary:

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Tony grumbles.

He feels more than hears Steve’s laugh. “Enjoying what? Cuddling you? Perish the thought.”

[sunnysideprincess]

*throws this at you and runs*

He spots the fae as soon as he breaches the clearing. Small and lithe, laughing and giggling as the tiny, pixie-mers surround him. His wild curls grow wilder the longer he plays in the water. And his eyes—Steven would write poetry if he could. For now, he only watches, sitting still with a hunter's grace, as the fae dives under water, then comes up gasping and heaving, chasing after the mers with a grace well known to their kind.

He would feel terrible for spying on the unsuspecting folk. But he is entranced. He has never seen a wingless fae. Or one with a star bust painted on his chest. He wants to trace those eyes and that smile, the mischief and the light. He wants to touch and glide his fingers down and down. Until he's got the fae blushing and squealing like a heated kettle.

A twig snaps when Valiant stomps impatiently and the mers scatter with a collective screech. The fae jerks. His eyes grow wide with fear when he spots them: an elf and his stead. An enemy and a beast of a horse.

"Stay away," he trills at them, stumbling blindly to get away from the intruder. "I am armed."

"Are you now?" Steven pointedly stares at his bare skin.

The fae blushes and splutters, before jutting his jaw defiantly. The star burst on his chest ignites a bright blue. And Steven thinks it's the most wonderful thing to witness. Until the earth begins to shake.

At first glance, what appears to be a boar clad in armor rises from behind the rocks. But upon closer inspection, it's boar built of metal and magic. An artifice. An automaton.

Valiant shudders under its soulless blue gaze yet holds her ground. And the fae, uncaring of his sodden pants or bare feet clambers on top of what Steven comes to conclude is his own creation.

The boar takes off running, leaving behind a curious elf, a sullen horse and a bunch of scared critters in the lake.

[becci-chan]

Shadow

Tony found Steve staring at the ceiling in the common area, clearly confused.

He followed Steve’s gaze and spotted a large shadow in the corner.

“Are you gonna do something about that spider?” Tony asked, amused.

“Don’t you think it’s a little… too big?”

“Since when are you arachnophobic?” Tony teased.

“I’m not. It’s just… odd.”

“Want me to remove it? I know a trick.”

“Trick?”

“If you come down now, you can stay for dinner and we’ll order Thai food!”

Suddenly Peter dropped from the ceiling, making Steve gasp.

Tony laughed, “The camouflage function almost works. Good job, Pete.”

~~~

For the @stevetonygames 2023 Team Past Square "Shadow"

[purpleicedteas]

Andante, Andante

by purpleicedteas

for @stonyauniverse Daily Drabbles & Doodles Challenge AU: Music Prompt: PTSD

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Rating: T Square: @allcapsbingo - O4: Nuzzling

Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply; Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Nightmares, Tony Stark Sings, Tony Stark Plays Piano, Fluff, Angst and Hurt/Comfort

Summary: When Steve is woken up in the middle of the night by yet another nightmare, he goes downstairs only to find Tony tinkering at the piano, ready to sing him back to sleep.

LINK

[gotlostonmywayhome]

The Only Time

The invitation for another Iron Man Memorial statue arrives in his inbox at 6 AM. Steve has been to more ceremonies honoring his friend in five years since his return than he cares to count, but he attends them all. And at each one, Steve takes a moment to think about the man. 

Not the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. 

Not Iron Man. 

Just Tony.

Steve thinks about the last night of Tony’s life, how it was the only time Steve told Tony, “I love you,” and how much Steve regrets that he never said it sooner or will ever again.

Moodboard and Drabble Created for: @stevetonygames​ - One Time Thing @cap-ironman​ Bingo - Free Space

Trigger warning (For those who know how to use the blocking system) - Canonical Character Death, Major Character Death, Endgame Compliant

[itsmaybitheway]

For @stevetonygames 2023 | Team Present | Square: Language of Flowers | Challenge: Time Runs Out

Blumen für Steve

“Er hat mir rote Kamelien gekauft? Warum?” Fragte Steve. Er war verwirrt darüber, warum. Er dachte, sie würden schon seit einiger Zeit Freunde werden, aber dann verschwand Tony. Er nahm weder an Filmabenden noch an Spieleabenden teil, er frühstückte nicht mehr mit ihnen. Und jetzt kaufte er Blumen für Steve?

“Darum, dass er in dich verliebt ist.” Sagte Nat, als sie ihren Kuchen aß. "Wusstest du es nicht? Alle anderen wissen es.”

“Sogar Clint? Sogar Clint wusste, dass Tony in mich verliebt war? ” Dann hörte Steve ein Geräusch hinter sich, Tony. Was konnte er tun, als ihn nicht zu küssen?

[persephonesfill]

That Tony finding out CW Steve was the one who ACTUALLY killed his Steve, when this Tony has been convinced he was the killing shot, but no that Steve got away only to encounter Civil Warrior who then came back to this world to check in on how he “fixed” things and found this Tony

😈

(And then they still bang?)

When he arrives to Earth-8350 it's already too late; the civil war is in full swing and the superhero community has torn itself apart.

He doesn't even think when he sees this universe's Steve Rogers hoist that god-forsaken shield above his head, ready to kill. But it's the look of animal terror in Tony's eyes that prods the warrior into acting.

He does only what he can do, the repulsor beam shooting forth from his hands like the vengeful arrow of some wronged god. Apollo striking Achilles in his heel. At the same time, Tony's hands fly up, readying himself for a killing blow that never comes.

He leaves when the screaming starts.

The sound of it still haunts him throughout the multiverse.

He's never visited an Earth again after making things right, nor does he plan to make a habit of it, but Earth-8350 continues to plague his mind. The dead, vacant look in his double's pure blue eyes, Tony's wail, and the scent of blackened flesh.

Earth-8350 calls and the warrior listens.

Tony lives And that's all that matters, he tells himself. He'd kill himself a hundred times before he saw Tony Stark die at his hands again.

"Steve?" a heart achingly familiar voice slurs and the warrior's mask melts, just a fraction. He hasn't been Steve, hasn't been a man, in a long, long time.

"Is that you? Please...please tell me it's you."

It is and it isn't. He is Steve but not this Tony's Steve and that makes all the difference.

This Earth's Tony reaches out to him with bloodshot eyes and whiskey on his breath. "M'not...not dreaming again. You're here. You're real."

Drunken hands scramble at his armor. "Lemme see you. Need to touch you."

The warrior wants to be touched. He wants to be touched with love and tenderness and forgiveness and wants to give it back tenfold.

So he does.

He removes his helmet and kisses the shocked gasp out of Tony before it can fully leave his lips.

He kisses Tony until he can taste the honeyed liquor on his lips, until he feels like he's drunk on it by proxy. Tony kisses him back just as hard, just as desperate, their teeth clacking against each other like the other is going to disappear if they don't consume them whole. It's an ugly kiss, not at all like the sweet things he had fantasized about a lifetime ago, but it's still good, still scratches that itch in the back of his brain that is thoroughly occupied by Tony Stark, regardless of universe.

Later on, with his come dripping down Tony's thighs he confesses. To everything. He tells this Tony of his Earth, and his Tony and how he lost it all in one fell swoop. How he eradicated this Earth's Steve before he could make the same mistake.

"You understand?" the warrior says, grip tightening around Tony's hips. "You understand why I did it? It was for you. It will always be for you."

Tony says nothing. He kisses Steve like he wants to draw blood.

[veethesnake]

Tick tock

Tick tock. Tony’s eyes wandered back and forth between the clock and the door. Three minutes left. Three minutes, and his entire life could change beyond anything he’d believed possible. Tick tock. Two minutes, and he could be a better man than he was before. He could fix his mistakes. All it took was a sprint down the hallway. Tick tock. Steve had to be at the front door now. Getting his suitcase ready to give to the taxi driver. Tick tock. One minute. What had Rhodey said? Get off your ass and tell him, Tony. He ran.

My second ever drabble!!!

For the @stevetonygames, Team Past and square clock

[frankthesnek]

Hello can I get soft kiss 7 for Stony?

Okay, okay so all the other kiss prompt fills have been soft and fluffy and cute. This one gave me angst vibes. I hope thats okay 💕

Come Home Again

Rated G

Prompt: sharing a kiss after not seeing eachother for an extended period of time

750 words

The room was dark when Tony opened his eyes, a dull depthless darkness that was a far cry different from the mystical and star spotted blackness he'd been surrounded by in space.

Right… he was back.

Thinking was normally an easy task for Tony, but recalling the events that led him here was difficult and physically taxing. He remembered landing, remembered clinging to Nebula and limping down the ramp, remembered—

“Steve?” The word was horse and croaking as it left his lips. Steve's hands on his arm and shoulder, too tight and almost painful on his depleted worn out body, the solid heat at his side as Steve had helped him inside—that he remembered, but in a too good to be true dreamy way he wasn't sure he should believe.

“Tony?"

The sound of his name was startling, and Tony flinched harshly before sluggishly turning his head to find Steve sitting off to the side of his bed. His face was shadowed, the plains and angles of it illuminated gently by the subtle glow of the nano tech arc. Why did Steve have it?

“I'm sorry for pushing you like that,” Steve's words were hollow, his eyes downcast to the reactor.

Oh.

Tony closed his eyes against the returning memory. Steve’s questions, his own lunatic ramblings as he fell apart. They had ended on fighting so long ago and wound up the same way this time around. The cold of Siberia seemed better than the chemical fresh chill of the medical bay. He had been left alone and cold and broken hearted back then, but at least his spirit had still been intact. It felt like now he'd lost even that.

“It's fine,” Tony mumbled back softly, opening his eyes to find Steve now looking at him. The reactor's light was obscured by Steve's large palm curling around it, the duller lighting making his face look dark and sad.

“It was selfish,” the other man countered. “I shouldn't have—”

“No. No, no, nonono,” the word tumbled out of Tony in a weak and droning mantra, forcing Steve into silence. Tony went quiet too. Breathing and collecting his thoughts, chasing them like scared animals hiding in the fog of his brain. So much had happened, so much had gone wrong. He didn't want this with Steve. Couldn't handle it—not now. Later, later, there would be time for talking and healing and explanations. All the things they had destroyed and that had been lost between them—it wouldn't, couldn't be forgotten but right now, none of it mattered.

“I don't want to argue. I don't want to fight. I'm done fighting. We lost. We lost so much,” the words were fucking bitter—sharp and painful in his too tight dry throat.

“Tony,” Steve stood and moved to the edge of the bed, placing the reactor on the sheets. Its calming blue a bright contrast to the bland white of them.

“I don't care right now about all of our fuck ups—not yours, not mine. Steve, I just wanna come home.” Tony didn't realize the words had brought him to tears until Steve's palm settled over his cheek. Cupping gently like so many times in the past. Tony turned his face into the contact. “I wanna go home,” softer this time, the words spoken into the battle calloused skin of Steve's palm.

“You are home, honey,” Steve said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’re home.”

When Steve leaned down over him, the moment felt too long and drawn out. The few seconds it took for Steve's lips to meet his a back breaking straw on top of all the time they had been apart—all the touches they had robbed themselves of.

Tony pressed back simply, not having the energy for more than the firm contact of a couple grounding pecks. Steve lingered, like he always did. His soft mouth brushed tenderly along Tony's jaw, and he felt his stubble catch against the supple softness of the other man's lips.

“You're home now. Get some rest,” Steve whispered into his cheek.

Tony closed his eyes again, barely registering the dip and shift in the bed, already fading back into exhausted sleep. It was only when he heard the steady thump under his ear that he realized Steve had laid down with him; had shifted them so Tony was curled atop him, head pillowed on Steve's powerful chest.

He was home. It was a broken home—cracked picture frames, and unmade beds, and cobweb filled closets—but the foundation was still there. Strong and sturdy, and everything he needed.

[marvelobsessions]

god I miss stevetony

[soliloquent-stark]

stony ficlet: steve vs. tony's sleep deprivation

it's 3am when steve can't take it anymore. he waits for tony to be distracted (which is, realistically, a more common occurance than him paying any attention to steve, when he's hyper-focused) and proceedes to break the lab coffee machine "by accident". he just wants tony to stop drinking coffee and finally come to bed after two consecutive all-nighters.

he is prepared for all of tony's backup plans, so, one by one, he takes care of it: he hides the french press in the laundry room, takes the drip to sam's quarters, buries all the capsules in the protein powder jar that tony wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. because he's scared tony is neurotic enough to straight-up snort some coffee, he makes sure to also remove the blade from the bean grinder.

what he didn't account for, however, is that there is one thing that will make tony more alert, more focused, and more awake than his favorite brew: the puzzling mystery of a faulty appliance and the buzz that comes from fixing it.

steve goes to sleep alone.

find longer fics on my ao3

[ishipallthings]

Seasons of Drabbles (Summer 2023) - Fic Roundup!

I wrote two Steve/Tony drabbles for this round's Seasons of Drabbles (which also filled the 'drabble' and Movie Night Squares on my @cap-ironman Bingo Round 1 card) and had a lot of fun! Thank you to @thahiree for the cheer-reading :D

♡ kind of hooked on you - 600 words, drabble sequence, rated Teen.

Tags: Fluff, pining Steve, oblivious Tony, 5+1 things, post-The Avengers, UST, Getting Together

Summary:

Five times Steve sees Tony in various stages of undress, and one time he sees Tony wearing absolutely nothing.

♡ Brighter Than The Sun - 300 words, rated General Audiences.

Tags: College AU, No-Powers AU, Fake Relationship, Mutual Pining, Day At the Beach, Getting Together

Summary:

Tony lets out a happy noise. “You are the best fake boyfriend.”