#stony prompt

[sayahs-corner]

Come join our podbid for the wonderful @iam93percentstardust ! Romance, Regency, and Ruts, what’s not to love?

Contact Ruquas on discord to join, and let’s make this prompt a reality!

((Disclaimer: I don’t know what flavor of omegaverse this fic will be or if it will actually have ruts. The alliteration was too good for me to pass up. Forgive me))

#marvel trumps hate #mth 2023 #podbid #stony prompt #ship: stony #fanfiction #stony omegaverse #steve rogers/tony stark

[therollingstonys]

Stony prompt #2!!

Video inspiration (warning, it’s porn!!)

Tony is Dr Cum Control and Steve is a veteran who can’t get off no matter how hard he tries. When his best buddy Bucky finds out, he recommends Steve see a professional and sends him the info for Dr Cum Control. Steve is hesitant, he’s straight and doesn’t know if he’d enjoy being touched by another man like that, but he has to admit that after watching some of the videos online, he’s intrigued. He makes an appointment and meets Tony, gets edged until he’s on the verge of tears and begging to come, and then gets three orgasms in a row. Wrung out and floating, he confesses to Tony that he likes Tony touching him, that Tony is pretty and he’s glad Bucky made him come. Tony cleans him up, gets him snacks and water, and once Steve is clear headed he’s embarrassed by what he said and more than a little conflicted over his sexuality. He leaves and tries to convince himself he’s still straight, but then spends a weekend watching all of Tony’s videos and edging himself (he doesn’t come because somewhere in the back of his mind he wants Tony to be the one to make him come). When he wakes up on Monday morning he knows, he’s not straight and he needs to see Tony again. When he contacts Tony, he doesn’t ask for another session, he asks for a date, and to his surprise, Tony says yes. When they move in together Steve sends Bucky a thank you card and lives happily ever after getting his brains fucked out and loving the man of his dreams.

#stony #stevetony #superhusbands #stony prompt #mod Stella’s prompts

[duchessonfire]

[Image ID: A moodboard consisting of five pictures against a light gray background. The edges of the pictures are as if torn from a page. There are three pictures on the left side and two pictures on the right side. The top picture on the left is of Tony Stark, wearing glasses, visibly thin and sick. The picture in the middle left side is of Steve Rogers, looking straight ahead without smiling. The bottom left picture is the tattooed hands of a man holding a cane with a white handle. On the top right side is a picture of Steve Rogers, looking down, visibly unhappy. The picture below is of Tony Stark, wearing a glove with the Infinity Stones, about to snap his fingers. On the bottom right corner of the image, a text in black reads “I don’t know how to tell you that you’re not broken to me.” /.End ID]

Moodboard and prompt by yours truly for:

@marveldisabilitycelebration

@cabottombingo square B3 "Never meant to hurt you"

@steverogersbingo square A4 "Scars"

I don't know how to tell you that you're not broken to me: a 300-word, mature-rated Stony prompt featuring talks of physical and sexual disability, Dom/Sub relationship, and two people trying to navigate the new disabilities in their lives.

NSFW prompt under the cut. If anyone wants to take a crack at it, that would be so lovely.

After Tony survives the Snap, he and Steve decide to put the past five years behind them and to give their relationship another go. But using the Stones took its toll on Tony and their previous Dom/Sub dynamics are now in shambles.

Unable to move without a chair or a cane, left deeply scarred, and with his heart too weak to put on the Iron Man suit again, Tony spirals, feeling useless now that he can’t be the hero the world needs.

Steve passed on the shield to Sam to stay and care for Tony, but it soon appears clear that Tony perceives his help as charity and Steve is left in a bind when every single display of love or affection from him is misinterpreted as pity by Tony. How can he tell his Dom that his help is a product of love and that he doesn’t mean to hurt his pride by staying with him?

Worst of all, they both struggle with the place of sex and kink in their new relationship. While Steve insists that he wants them to be together romantically more than physically, Tony still can’t accept that his sex life will never be the same and that he’s now unable to care for Steve and top him in bed the way he used to. Being a Dom and Top to Captain America used to be a challenge he relished, but now, knowing that his body can’t follow his sexual desire for Steve leaves him frustrated, and Steve’s insistence on them not having sex if Tony can’t get hard even more so.

How can he explain to Steve that he doesn’t need to be hard for them to enjoy sex again? How can he give his Sub what they both know Steve needs when Tony doesn’t believe in himself anymore?

And more importantly: will they both be able to move on from the emotional and physical scars left by Thanos and the hurt they’re now causing each other?

#stony #steve rogers #tony stark #post endgame #tony stark lives #tmdc2022 #steve rogers bingo 2022 #cabottom bingo #dom tony stark #sub steve rogers #disability representation #stony prompt #stony moodboard #duchess writes #the marvel disability celebration

[holistic-alcoholic]

This post had more than zero notes so!

Sad unhappy ending stony prompt number 1 (with some potential of fixing things after).

It’s your usual mcu canon up until cw, only Iron Man’s identity is secret from everyone. Tony’s around as team’s benefactor and tech support. Some time before cw, Steve & Tony start sleeping together. They’re not too close, it’s more of fwb situation (minus the actual friendship), but they talk about it, and decide to be exclusive mostly for the convenience. Then cw happens. And Steve, really, he wanted to talk to Tony about his parents, but he was never sure — Zola lied a lot, and there was nothing in the files — and it’s better Tony doesn’t know. He’s not actually in the situation — any kind of real superhero situation — so he wouldn’t find out by accident, and if it confirms, Steve will tell him. But better to shield him for now.

Then, Iron Man is with them in the bunker, and somehow Zemo thinks Iron Man is going to flip, and then Iron Man does go mad, and Steve doesn’t know why, but he needs to protect Bucky.

He returns to the compound, a couple of days later, on the run, and goes to Tony for help. It’s midnight, he’s wounded and tired, and alone, and he decides to tell Tony in the morning. He can’t, now, he’s done. So when Tony opens his door — and he looks horrible, like he has the worst hangover, and what happened in those couple of days they haven’t seen each other — and asks Steve, standing on the doorstep, just explained that he needs to lay low, is it everything you want to say to me?, Steve says yes. For now, just for a few hours, yes.

Tony smiles a weird smile and says: no, I don’t think I can invite you in. I have some girls over — a party, you know how it goes — it won’t be a good idea for them to see a wanted criminal.

Cut to two years later. Avengers are reunited, and Tony is mostly scarce, but Steve & Tony are still incredibly tense. They don’t talk about. Until there’s some plot, and Steve & Tony get into some situation they can barely escape, and they need a bomb to get away. Only they don’t have a power source, but Tony says: I have one. Promise me, though, that you count to 30 and then put it back to its place.

Steve’s confused, but Tony says he would be busy to do it himself, and makes him promise.

Then he takes off his shirt — for the first time in all Steve’s known him — takes off the fucking artificial skin, and then the next 30 seconds Steve tries really, really hard not to have a panic attack right there, while Tony slowly pales on the floor.

That’s a very, very bad timing for all the realizations he’s having right now.

#stony #prompt #stony prompt #yes this should be written in Steve's pov completely with the suspense about iron man's identity #cacw #angst #sad prompt #unhappy ending

[mischievous-thunder]

#loki season 2 #loki #mobius m mobius #kang the conqueror #lokius #ineffable husbands #blackbonnet ofmd #stucky #destiel #hannigram #johnlock #thorki #wolfstar and drarry #stony #spideypool #imagine your otp #otp prompts #writing promt #tom hiddleston #owen wilson

[ravenlostsnippets]

Where the Howling Commandos and Peggy come to the future. Steve is grateful to see them but thoroughly surprised that they all seem to know - and protect - Tony Stark. Turns out the genius has a pretty big secret

#stony #stony prompt #fic idea #prompt #time travel

[winterspiderpurrs]

Okay but Tony never told the team that Peter was an Omega.

And after Peter moved into the tower/compound, he didn't realize that the team didn't know. He wore scent covering patches. He was happy they treated him like an equal and no one ever brought it up.

Maybe he should of questioned it as the team would joke around and sometimes ask him if he was seeing an Omega when they would get faint whiffs of Omega slick.[Not realizing it was Peter himself]

Maybe after getting back from patrol, he was complaining about his back hurting. Maybe he stretches and pops/cracks his back and let's out a typical chirp that omegas do.

The team in the kitchen freezes and stares at Peter. And once Peter goes to his room. They call Tony up from the lab.

" Peter is an Omega?"

Tony freezes. Stares at them and thinks back. He knew in the beginning he kept it quite but surely it had come out. Peter has been living with them for almost a year now.

Now the team is questioning all the little "quirky" moments they had while interacting with Peter. They should of realized.

#writing prompt #alpha beta omega #omega peter parker #omega peter #alpha tony #alpha tony stark #alpha steve rogers #alpha bucky barnes #alpha steve #abo #winterspider #peter parker x bucky barnes #spidershield #shieldspider #starker #stucky plus peter #stony plus peter #winterspiderpurrs #peter parker x anyone really #peter parker x everyone

[ishipallthings]

I'm thinking of writing a bunch of fluffy stevetony codas for my favorite AA episodes, I've been rewatching the show this weekend and have all the AA stevetony feelings - just wondering if this would be of interest to anyone, or if it's a completely self-indulgent idea :D

I'm also in a post A1 stevetony mood so I'm opening my askbox for prompts for a little while! 💜

#stevetony #stony #superhusbands #avengers assemble #post-avengers #my writing #I have AA stevetony on the brain!! #also shout out to meidui and carsonian's amazing fics that have me falling back in love with stevetony after some time away <3 #prompts #I'm up for prompts though I can't make any promises about filling them!

[robertdowneyjjr]

Happy birthday!!! 🥳 Also, I absolutely love your writing~♡ (your stony soulmate au and vampire tony au are my favorite!!!)

For the prompt: Tony being dragged to a weapon's demonstration by Howard, decides to absolutely piss him off by wearing booty shorts and tank tops—distracting Howard's favorite soldiers: Steve and Bucky

hello ily sorry this has taken so long 🥲

———

As long as Stark Industries continues to make weapons, Tony has zero interest in “doing his part” for the company at these military shindigs. Sure, he’s glad that his dad is at least letting him head the efforts for defensive and medical tech, but until the day the weapons department is completely shut down, Tony will not give those power hungry generals the time of day.

So when Howard all but forces Tony into joining him for a five-day trip to Afghanistan for a weapons demonstration, Tony retaliates the best way he knows how. By shamelessly embarrassing his dad.

He takes his sweet time on the plane, lazing casually in his band t-shirt and jeans as they make their descent. He knows he’ll be expected to change into a more “appropriate” outfit once they land because that’s protocol, and he’s looking forward to watching Howard’s head explode later.

That’ll teach him to force Tony into doing anything weapons-related.

By the time the company jet lands, Howard has already changed into his perfectly pressed suit so he can greet the soldiers who have been sent to meet them.

“Hurry up and get changed, Tony. The general has sent his most elite squad to come get us,” Howard says. “Steve and Bucky are the best of the best. Let’s show them some respect and not keep them waiting.”

He turns towards the stairs to disembark.

“What the hell kind of a name is Bucky…” Tony mutters as he heads towards the back of the plane to change his clothes.

Five minutes later, he’s going down the plane stairs like a pageant queen, never mind the fact that he’s dressed like the polar opposite. The chatter between Howard and the two beefcakes facing him abruptly stops when the blonde one spots Tony and immediately blushes a bright red.

When Howard turns to see what the problem is, he goes red too, albeit much uglier and angrier.

“Tony, what in the world are you wearing? Do you really think this is appropriate for a trip of this nature?” Howard seethes.

As he joins the group, Tony looks down at his clothes. His jean shorts cut off six inches above his knees, and his tank bearing his favorite band’s logo is only marginally long enough to not be considered a crop top. He looks damn good, and he knows it.

“I do in fact think these clothes are appropriate, actually. I dressed for the weather.” He pastes on a shit-eating grin and turns towards the soldiers. “Hi, I’m Tony.”

Before either of them could introduce themselves, Howard cuts in.

“Get back in there and change into a proper suit, Tony. This isn’t funny.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. All I’ve packed are shorts and tank tops and t-shirts.”

As Howard splutters, one of the soldiers — the blonde one who had been staring — takes Tony’s hand and shakes it.

“I’m Steve. I, uh, I think you look great. Um, you’ve got nice legs,” he says, his ears turning pink. Tony has a feeling it’s not because of the blazing sun.

The brunette standing next to Steve gently shoves him aside and takes his place in front of Tony.

“Heya, I’m Bucky.” He boldly steps closer and places his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “And if you really do need something else to wear, I’d be happy to lend ya somethin’. I’m sure you’d look incredible in my clothes, doll.” He winks.

Tony glances between the two soldiers, both of whom have not even spared Howard or anyone else a second of their attention since Tony sauntered up to them in his booty shorts and tank top.

He smiles.

Looks like this trip might not be a bad idea after all.

#tony loves blushy steve and flirty bucky in equal measure #stuckony #stevetony #stony #buckytony #winteriron #tony stark #stevebuckytony #kay writes things #bday prompts #sunnysideprincess #ask

[stevetonyisendgame]

A Second Chance: The Steve/Tony Endgame Prompt Fest

Whether you took part in the exchange and miss SteveTony already or missed out last time and wish you joined in, this prompt fest is a second chance <3

The prompt fest will run from July 7 to December 31, 2023. There are no minimum work requirements, and sign-ups are not required: you can submit prompts and fill prompts as you please! 😊

Here’s how it works:

To submit a prompt, send it through our prompt form and it’ll appear in the Prompt Collection sheet for others to see (the form and sheet will be opened on July 7). You can only submit one prompt each time, but you can submit as many forms as your heart desires. If you aren’t sure what your prompt should look like, take a look at the sheet for examples or ask us for help!

To fill a prompt, just post it to the AO3 collection when it’s complete! There is no formal claiming process; just make sure to include the prompt number and/or quote the prompt you filled in your author’s note or summary.

Both the prompt form and the AO3 collection will be open for the entire duration of the event (July 7 to December 31). During this time, you can send in prompts, view prompts in the Prompt Collection, and post fills to the AO3 collection.

Rules & Guidelines

There is no minimum work requirement, and any work type goes!

When you post your work, please include the prompt number and/or quote the prompt you filled in your author’s note or summary.

All prompts and fills must be Endgame-adjacent. Canon divergence and post-canon are welcome!

All prompts and fills must center on Steve and Tony's relationship, whether romantic or platonic. Since this is a Steve/Tony event, we ask that you do not prompt or fill poly relationships involving them and others, and Steve/Tony cannot be a side ship.

You must be at least 18 years old to participate, as some prompts may contain mature themes.

The foremost rule of our exchange applies to the prompt fest as well: This is a Steve and Tony friendly event! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ We will not accept any character bashing or painting either character in a negative light. Any prompts or fills that do not respect this rule will be removed from the collection. Remember this is supposed to be a fun event celebrating their love!

FAQ

Multiple people can collaborate on one fill.

Gifting your fill to the prompter is encouraged but not required.

Combining multiple prompts into one fill is allowed, just remember to specify which ones.

You can submit and fill as many prompts as you want—there is no limit.

You do not need to fill a prompt in order to submit one, and vice versa.

Crossposts with other events are allowed as long as the rules of that event permit it too.

The collection will be unmoderated, so mods cannot guarantee real-time fill status updates in the Prompt Collection, but we’ll do our best!!

As always, if you have any questions or concerns, don’t hesitate to DM us, drop us an ask, or email us at [email protected]!

Love,

A Second Chance Mods

#stevetony #stony #steve x tony #superhusbands #steve rogers x tony stark #endgame prompt fest #announcement

[sayahs-corner]

For @captain-stark-rogars (hope you don't hate it! :P)

Prompt: Stony on the verge of Divorce but end up stranded ((snow storm?)) and they realize there is a ember burning…they end up wanting to work it out …((maybe sexy time ?))

Rating: E

Tony trudged wearily through thigh deep snow, his face contorted into a grimace as the biting wind lashed viciously at his stinging face. He had long ago lost feeling in his toes that were covered by snow soaked shoes. He walked with his back bowed against the bite of the wind, his fingers tucked under his armpits to try to steal what little warmth he could. He was sure his skin was reddened and chapped at this point, the skin of his face unprotected from the bitter winds and fat snowflakes falling at a staggering rate. 

What was supposed to be a quick trip out to their cabin in Maine had turned into an absolute cluster fuck. 

The rental truck had broken down about three miles back, buried nose deep in a snowbank off the side of the road. There was no fixing it in this storm, visibility was shit poor and Tony could barely see three feet in front of him. Cell phone was out. And for some reason Stark Network was down. Tony couldn’t get a single call out or in, his phone sitting like a chilly, useless, brick in his pocket. Even his suit wasn’t responding. It was as if he was truly in a dead zone.

Which was new… for him. For goodness sake, he had literally sent satellites to space so that this exact situation would not be possible. Millions of dollars spent, only to be defeated by a snow storm. Blizzard. Whatever.

So, Tony had left the relative safety of the truck's cab, and headed up the snow covered road that led to the cabin. Their cabin. 

He swallowed. 

Steve had always loved it up here, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. He liked hiking in these woods and fishing in the streams and ponds. He’d bring a pair of binoculars along (mostly for Tony because of that whole superior vision thing) to point out all of the different birds that lived in the woods in these parts. An avid bird watcher, his Steve was, and Tony had simply enjoyed the way those blue eyes would spark with excitement whenever he found a new bird from his national Audubon Society field guide. That book had been handled so often that the spine was barely holding together. Pages had been dog eared, notes in Steve’s neatly legible scrawl filled the margins.Tony could remember the barely contained exhilaration in his whisper as he’d point towards a duck lazing across the blue green waters of the pond. ‘Look, Tones, it’s a harlequin duck!”

It had always been a struggle to tear his eyes away from Steve in those moments to look at what had made his lover's face light up like that. Tony had loved looking at Steve. 

Once upon a time, Steve had loved looking back at him. 

The countless lazy mornings they had spent together in this quiet cabin, sheets tangled about their legs and bodies twisted around each other were too many to count. And too precious. A sharp pang of longing stabbed into his heart.

Once upon a time the world had been a simpler place. Their love, so new and pure and bright, had been the thing that had kept Tony going. He remembered that love, fingers entwined, the soft press of Steve’s lips against his own, the way those broad calloused fingertips felt as they traced over the curves and edges of his body. He knew the rasp of Steve’s stubble, the dark salty taste of his skin. He knew every scar, every divot and curve, of his super soldier's body.

Hmm. Not his super soldier anymore. 

Not his anything.

Tony had left the Avengers tower six months ago and hadn’t looked back. What had been bright and beautifully had long since lost its shine. 

Their love, which once sat full and pure in his chest, had withered away to something dark and sour. Laced with bitterness and regret.

He couldn’t make Steve happy. 

Damnit, he had tried. 

He had tried so fucking hard at this, the one most important thing in his life, had tried to make it work. Nothing he did was ever enough. Nothing he did was right. He was the sole financial supporter of the Avengers Initiative at this point. He worked tirelessly to keep America’s hero’s funded. 

Sometimes that meant long work trips, being away from the tower at strange times of the day and night. The harder he tried to please Steve, the colder his lover had gotten. There had been a distance there, and Tony had watched in horrified fascination as it grew day after day. He had once felt pulled into Steve’s orbit, warmed by his smile and the strength of his love. Over time those smiles had faded until all that was left for him was creased brows and glacier cold eyes that did little to hide their disappointment.

They hadn’t been to the cabin in years. And okay, maybe that was partially his fault. Between work and superheroing, Tony hadn’t had much time for much else. After every mission Steve would huddle around with the rest of the team for the post mission recap. Always, always, Tony’s tech seemed to come up short.

‘We could have used you in the air there, Tony.’

‘Some surveillance before we moved in on the warehouse would have helped save time.’

‘If we could have gotten through that wall, we could have saved those people. They’re gone because our weapons weren’t enough. We weren’t enough.’

As time went on the criticism became more sharp, more directed at Tony. It wasn't just Tony’s tech that had failed them. It was Tony himself. 

Steve seemed to chafe and glower whenever Tony came around. Towards the end… Steve couldn’t even look him in the eye. Which, in and of itself was a blessing, because when he did his eyes had sparked with a banked rage. Disgust. 

So Tony…well, he stopped coming around. He worked more. He moved out of the Tower. He stopped going on missions unless his presence was specifically requested, and then he didn't stay for the post mission recap. He couldn't stand to look Steve in the eyes. Every time he did it felt like someone was carving up his chest with a blunt spoon, digging deeper and deeper into his flesh. 

It felt like Obie ripping the arc reactor from his chest. It felt like Pepper’s spare key laying on the counter, her ‘goodbye Tony’ written in her nest scrawl on the back of a business card. It felt like his parents going on that weekend trip and never coming back. It was grief and regret and betrayal and longing all wrapped up into a painful package that was Steven Grant Rogers.

So Steve didn’t love him anymore. Big deal, right? Tony was used to people loving him and walking away.

He was inherently flawed.  Broken. So many good people, and not one of them could love him. What did that mean? 

What did that make Tony?

He shook his head, refusing to think about it anymore. Refusing to think about anything except for the cabin.

He wasn't sure why he had come here in the first place. Natasha said it was necessary, though. It was about Steve. 

Steve.

He had been tempted not to come. But he couldn't stop himself. She had sounded so sad and serious on the phone. Resigned almost. There was something that he needed to know about his former lover, something that was terribly wrong, and she wouldn't tell him over the phone. It had to be a face to face. She was in Maine at the moment, doing some research for an upcoming mission. Did he want to meet her at his cabin?

It had been on the tip of his tongue to say no. He wasn't going to meet her at the cabin. 

It wasn't his cabin. It was their cabin. And they didn't exist anymore. 

There was just Tony. 

And just Steve. 

There was no they. 

How could he go back to a place that lived in the quiet recesses of his heart? 

How could he go back to a happier time? When he dreamt at night, when he actually slept, his mind took him back to that cabin in the woods. Back to the birds and the ponds. Back to running through the woods together, slapping branches out of the way and leaping over logs.  Of being caught up in Steve’s arms before they collapsed into the leaf litter on the forest floor, lost in each others eyes. Cooking breakfast together, Steve’s lips pressed against the column of his throat as he flipped the pancakes, the sharp press of Steve’s teeth to the lobe of his ear. Back to a time where he could lay his head down on Steve’s chest and feel the warm and steady beat of his heart. 

How could he go back to that place that only existed in memory? When the present was so fucking hard and so bleak without the glow of Steve in it.

But he had swallowed down his protests. Had bit his tongue until a flood of copper burst across his taste buds. 

It…was just a cabin.

He looked up, eyes stinging and tears leaking from the corners, to see the warm glow of the cabin up ahead.

He stopped. He closed his eyes, ignoring the bite of the wind and snow. Ignoring the numbness in his fingers or the way the wind and wet had snuck past every layer he had on. He had long lost the ability to feel his toes. He stood there, out in the cold and snow, welcoming the raw feeling that was tearing apart his chest from the inside. It hurt so goddamn much. All of the time. He was fucking tired of feeling like this. He missed Steve. He missed being loved and loving someone in return. The pain of it had not lessened in the six months since he’d moved out of the tower. It just grew sharper, more jagged and cutting, every day. 

He drew in a deep breath, feeling the cold air bite deep into his lungs, before shaking off his moroseness. 

Nat was there. 

At the cabin. 

Waiting for him. 

And here he was, standing outside in a fucking blizzard, like some kind of love sick idiot. Sure he was here about Steve. And he was already mentally bracing himself for whatever Nat had to say. He had done his due diligence and tried to find out, beforehand, what Nat was about to spring on him. Tony didn't like surprises.

Was Steve sick? Was he hurt? But after their last mission together two weeks ago Steve had dropped off the face of the earth. Not even Jarvis could find him, and that was rather impressive in and of itself. 

Which was why he was out here in the deep woods of Maine, in a blizzard, bracing himself for what lay beyond that cabin door. Because despite the time and distance, the angry words and the vicious fights, Tony still cared about Steve. Very much so.

Pressing his lips together in a determined line Tony forced himself to march forward. He made his way through the snow, teeth clenched together to stop their chattering, and marched up the wood steps of the cabin. Nat was inside, the fire burning in the hearth, the warm amber glow of light shining through the curtained windows. Tony cleared his throat and swallowed down the abject misery that was swimming in his guts. He couldn't let her see how much this hurt. 

Stomping his feet on the mat, kicking off the excess snow which was an exercise in futility, Tony wrapped his hand around the cold metal of the door knob. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and resisted the urge to knock. Because it felt like he didn't belong here. Like this place belonged to a different Tony. A different version of himself who was happier. Coming in here, like he was, seemed sacrilegious. 

Fuck it. 

He opened the door, the warm gust of heat of the cabin's interior slapping him in the face. Quickly he closed the door behind him, not willing to let the heat out. His eyes drifted over the interior of the cabin. The scent of pine and woodsmoke and the unmistakable scent of Steve still lingered in the air like a ghost. Haunting and bitter and sweet.

Tony tried to suck in another breath of air, but his teeth began to chatter, the warmth just as biting as the cold. He had to get changed, to get out of these clothes. He had to-

And then all the air was punched out of him.

Because there, on the couch in front of the fire with a book resting facedown in his lap, was Steve. 

In their cabin. 

Those blue eyes were trained on him, watching his every move, widened slightly with shock.

Fucking double crossing Russian Spy. You really couldn't trust anyone these days. He bet she didn't even speak latin.

Tony sucked in a pained breath, leaning heavily against the wall. The urge to run, to get away from what would inevitably be a really painful conversation was strong. He couldn't bear to watch those eyes darken with hate. With disgust. 

He stumbled toward the door, fingers reaching for the handle.

“Tony?”

He froze at the tentative sound of Steve’s voice. At the raspy, rough, sounding quality it usually took on after a rather vigorous bout of…

Oh God. 

Oh god. 

Had Steve…was Steve here with someone? 

If Tony had thought he had experienced pain before, it was nothing compared to the feeling that sliced him to his marrow then. This place. This sacred place…had Steve been using it as a love shack? Had he erased every memory they had shared here together and replaced it with someone else? 

Hot, acidic, bile burned the back of his throat even as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. It was stupid. Stupid to feel this level of betrayal. 

Tony’s hand wrapped around the door knob. He couldn't, wouldn't stay here, not for another second. Not for anything. If this was what Nat had been trying to tell him she had chosen a really fucking shitty way to go about it.

He jerked the door open, heart thundering raw in his chest, only to have it slam shut in his face a moment later. He felt the hot press of Steve behind him. Looked up to see Steve’s broad palm pressing the door closed. Blocking the exit. 

Tony turned around, hurt and confused and betrayed and…fucking furious.

“What the fuck, Steve?” 

He watched those blue eyes narrow, watched the sneer twist across his lips. Ah yes. Though it hurt, it was, atleast, familiar. 

This was how Steve looked at him now.

“Running away again, Stark?” The growl was low and mean. Steve leaned in, so that they were practically pressed chest to chest, pinning him against the door. “Because you’re so good at that these days. All you do is run away. Why should this time be any different?”

Tony threw his hands up and to the side, anger burning a caustic clear path inside of him. 

“Oh! I’m sorry,” he sneered back, his voice rising only to dip low in sarcasm. “Why don't you bring him out here? Or is it her? Does it matter? Go ahead. Introduce me to the person you are fucking in our cabin. In our place. Sorry, no, you know what? This cabin belongs to me. So you and your fuck toy can get the hell out of it.”

Tony watched as Steve reeled backwards, eyes rounded with shock, before narrowing with anger.

“Is that what you think, Tony? That I brought someone here to fuck in our bed? Sorry,” he sneered. “Your bed? God, you are such an honest piece of work.” Steve's hands slammed onto his hips before he pivoted away. Away from the door and away from Tony.

“I can’t believe… is that why you left? Is that why you abandoned us? Because you thought I was fucking someone else? That I was cheating on you?”

“No, I left because nothing I ever did was good enough for you.” The words left his lips like heat seeking arrows arching toward their intended target. “No matter what I did, no matter how hard I worked, nothing I gave you was ever enough! You were bleeding me dry! My tech wasn't good enough for you. My work wasn’t good enough. It was always somehow my fault whenever something went wrong on mission even though you’re the goddamn mission leader. Captain America. The man with the plan. Unless the plan fails and then it's suddenly Tony Stark’s fault!”

“Well if that isn't the first honest thing I’ve heard come out of your mouth in months! I never wanted your tech! I never wanted the tower! All I ever wanted was you! You, you giant, arrogant, asshole! And you were always gone. Always too busy to take my calls or to spend time with me or to - fuck.” Steve bit off his sentence, the anger bleeding out of his eyes and the tense lines of his shoulders. It left him looking tired, wrung out. There were dark circles under his eyes. Lines that hadn’t been there before bracketed his mouth. 

“You look like shit,Tony. Let’s get you out of those wet clothes and warmed up. We can…we can talk about this later.” The last half of that sentence sounded almost resigned. As if Steve would blink and Tony would be gone. Fight unfinished. 

Maybe he had been running away for a while now. 

And he did feel like shit, not just because he was standing by the door in ice frosted clothes, his entire body shivering and teeth chattering from the cold.

 He let Steve herd him up the stairs and toward the bedroom. Tony paused in the doorway as Steve left him to his own devices, retreating once again downstairs.

Tony made short work of shucking off his cold and ice stiffened clothes. He dumped them on the floor into a pile, snow clinging to the fibers. Pants, jacket, socks, and shirt all went into the chilly heap. Riffling through the drawers he pulled out his long johns, a comfy shirt, and some flannel pajama pants. He forced himself to get dressed, to ignore how only one side of the bed was unmade. He also pointedly did not look at his favorite AC/DC shirt and how it had been pulled on over a pillow.

Was Steve sleeping with that pillow at night? Wrapping his arms around it and pretending it was Tony?

Now his heart hurt for a different reason. There was… there was just so much here that was broken between them. It seemed like an insurmountable task to try and fix it, even if he wanted to. Did he want to?

He felt so tired. So drained. And it wasn't just the grueling trip through the blizzard that had done him in. 

He was just emotionally drained. This thing with Steve…it had been going on for a while now. Un-resolved. Unfinished. A constant wound that would not heal. Maybe it was time to lance the wound. To finish this once and for all. To see if what they had could be salvaged, or if they needed to go their separate ways.

The thought was painful enough to steal the breath from Tony’s lungs, his hand clutching reflexively at his chest. He didn't want to lose Steve, but a larger part of him acknowledged that, in a way, he already had.

Tony sighed before closing the bedroom door quietly behind him. Heart heavy, he headed down the stairs only to find the living room empty, fire crackling merrily in the stone hearth. 

“Steve?”

“In the kitchen!” Steve’s voice sounded strained. Tony padded his way through the living room and around the corner. 

Steve sat at the round kitchen table with its red checkered table cloth, his head in his hands and his fingers funneled through his too-long locks of blonde hair. The tacky red checkered cloth because it made Steve feel like they were on a picnic. It was rustic, he had said with that cheeky smile that warmed Tony through and through. He had never been able to deny Steve anything, even something as small as the god awful tablecloth. 

Something brittle crackled inside of his chest as his eyes traced over Steve’s familiar form. At the familiar scene.

 A dozen memories floated hazy and indistinct in front of him. 

Steve laughing as he washed the dishes. 

Steve pressing him up against that counter for a kiss. 

Steve sinking to his knees in front of him with that teasing smile curling on his lips.

Steve showing him how to bake muffins and laughing as he accidentally added too many chocolate chips. The flour on his nose. 

The way they had forgotten about the batter as Steve had bent him over that very kitchen table and..

Everywhere he looked this cabin held memories.Echoes of better days. Impressions of love. 

“Soups on the stove.” Steve mumbled, not bothering to raise his gaze. 

“Thanks.” Tony made his way over to the stove, fishing out a spoon and a bowl from the cabinet and drawer. Steve did make the very best beef stew. Of the two of them, Steve had always been the better cook. 

How long had he been here? How long had Steve been staying in the cabin, surrounded by these memories of better times? Tony couldn't imagine staying here. The memories would be like a punishment. A self flagellation. 

Oh. 

Oh.

That’s why Nat asked him to come here. 

Because Steve was out here alone in the wilds of Maine sad and heartsick and punishing himself. 

Typical fucking Steven Grant Rogers.

Tony…Tony wasn't the only one who was hurting here.

Tony sat down at the table, next to Steve, close enough that their elbows brushed. He ate the stew, which was just as delicious and savory as he remembered, and felt Steve’s gaze trained on him the entire time. 

Avid and wary. Like any second now Tony was going to hurt him or bolt up from the table and run from him. 

Again.

“We should… probably talk. About us.” Tony husked out, pushing the soup away from him. 

Steve said nothing. 

Okay. Well. They were doing this. In for a penny, in for a pound.

“I…I don’t know where things went wrong with us. I’ve never… you’re my person. Everything I did, I did to make you happy. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. And I thought…” he paused. 

His throat was tight. His gaze averted. He could get through this if he didn't look Steve in the face. If he didn't have to watch the realization of what a goddamn failure he was light up in those gorgeous blue eyes. 

“I thought that if I could make you comfortable, spoil you, you wouldnt leave me.” Tony paused again, inhaling sharply. “I was running out of time, you see. We had been together for a few years at that point. And that’s…that’s when people generally get to know the real me. And then they leave.” 

His voice cracked on the last word.  

“Because that’s what people do, Steve. They fucking leave. They leave every time and sometimes they don’t fucking come back. And I just… I couldn't stand for you to be another one of those people in my life. You are too important to me. I didn't mean to make you feel neglected, Steve. My company needed me just as much as the Avengers did. It felt… like I was being torn between two worlds, you know? Who I should be and who I want to be?”

“Tony,” Steve shifted, elbows planted on the table as he leaned in. “I wouldn't care if you didn't have a dime to your name.” Steve whispered fiercely, his gaze piercing with it’s intensity. 

“If we lived in a crappy flat and you didn't have a job. For me, it was never about the money. Or the tech. Or what you could buy me. It was always about you. Only ever about you. And you didn't give me the chance to prove that I would stay before you walked away, Tony. You put so much distance between us that we were virtually strangers. I wouldn't see you for days and then weeks at a time! Not unless there was a mission or the world needed saving. Do you know how insane that is?” Steve sat back, a harsh sigh expelled from deep in his chest.

Tony picked at the fibers of the table cloth with his fingers.

“I fucked up Steve. I fucked up… and I don’t know how to fix it or if it even can be fixed. I don't know how to make things right between us. And if I did…how long would it be before I messed it up again?”

“Tony.” Steve’s voice was soft. Serious. A probing silence fell until Tony lifted his gaze to meet that steady blue eyed stare. 

“Do you love me?”

“Of course I do, Steve. I never stopped loving you. Even when things went wrong. Even as it was all falling apart around us. I never stopped loving you.”

Steve nodded.

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s it?”

The beginnings of a smirk curled at the corner of his lip. “Yeah, okay. It’s a start Tony. I’m willing to put in the work if you are. You’re not the only one who fucked up. I was a miserable shit to you. I was lashing out, trying to hurt you, trying to tear you down. I just ended up pushing you farther away, I see that now. If I had only sat you down at the table and talked…things could have been different.”

“I’m willing to try to fix this because… this has been the worst six months of my life. I don’t want to lose you.”

Steve reached across the table and laid his hand over Tony’s. Tears pricked in the back of his eyes at the heat of that warm, calloused, palm and the gentle squeeze that accompanied it. It had been so long since he’d been touched by anyone.

He had missed this. A dark sob rattled in his chest, he instinctively tried to pull his hand away as hot tears scalded his eyes. God he was so fucking weak. He didn't deserve Steve’s kindness. He didn’t deserve-

The hand holding his tightened, refusing to let go. 

“No more running Tony.” Steve whispered. And then he was being pulled into Steve’s arms, his head falling naturally into the crook of Steve’s shoulder - his favorite place to be, his nose tucked up against his neck. Steve’s broad hand swept up and down his back in soothing circles.

“No more running.” he agreed, his breath a whisper against the pulse beating in Steve’s throat. 

Unable to help himself, Tony pressed his lips there, tongue flicking out to taste the salt of Steve’s skin. Or perhaps it was the salt of his own tears. He didn't know. He didn't care. And then he was moving, his leg slinging over Steve’s lap so that he was straddling him, his hands fisted in the fabric of Steve’s red flannel shirt. His lips moved upward until he was pressing them against Steve’s. 

The kiss was wet and clumsy. Their teeth bumped together twice before Tony raised his hands to frame Steve's face and took control of the kiss. 

Yes. Yes. 

This is what he had been missing. 

The ache in his chest eased at the hot press of Steve against his thighs, the taste of him in his mouth, the scent of him in his nose. Tony took a shuddering breath against his lips,only for Steve to arch up and nip at his bottom lip with a stinging bite. And then Steve’s hands were scooping under his ass, lifting up, and he was laying Tony down on his back across the table. The bowl and spoon rattled precariously on the edge of the table but neither of them cared, lost in each other as they were. He followed Tony down, one hand supporting the back of his neck, the other cupping the underside of Tony’s thigh until the leg hooked itself around Steve’s waist.

Tony groaned into his mouth, cock incredibly hard and aching. He arched his pelvis, seeking friction against the denim of Steve’s jeans, grinding against the thick length there. Wet sloppy kisses, panting groans and sighs filled the quiet of the kitchen. Tony could feel his blood surging hot in his veins as he gripped Steve’s broad shoulders, one hand moving up to card his fingers through the soft strands of brilliant blonde hair and tugging gently. God he had missed this. Missed the feel of Steve’s skin against his own, the caress of Steve’s hands, the texture of his silky hair as it slid through his fingers.

 His face burned where Steve’s beard rubbed against his, but Tony didn't care. This, this, was what he had been longing for. Aching for. If it were a dream, he decided as a bolt of heat shot right to the base of his aching cock, he never wanted to wake up. 

His other hand trailed over Steve’s chest, feeling the hard planes of muscles through the flannel shirt he wore. Tony’s hand trailed lower, finger tips exploring, until they were tugging at the waistband of Steve’s jeans. Steve’s muffled groan against his lips as Tony’s hand wedged itself into those pants and wrapped around Steve’s length reverberated into Tony’s chest. A wicked smile pulled at his lips as he moved his hand, fondling, exploring, teasing.

“Such a punk.” Steve muttered, his lips pressed to the side of Tony’s neck now, trailing kisses down until he was licking at Tony’s collarbone. His teeth teased Tony’s shoulder, soft claiming bites that had Tony gasping out, arching up into Steve’s mouth even as Steve bucked his hips into Tony’s hand.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Tony husked, his head lolling back as Steve rucked up his shirt, pressing his lips to Tony’s chest, licking and nipping and sucking on his over sensitive nipples. 

“Steve,” Tony panted, eyes half lidded as he gazed at Steve’s bowed head, a puffy pink nipple captured between pearly white teeth. Steve’s eyes absolutely twinkled up at him, his lips curving into a smug sort of smile. “Please, just…”

Steve’s teeth tugged mercilessly at his nipple, wrenching a cry out of Tony, before letting go of the poor abused nipple that had been reddened by his attentions,

“Please what, Tony?” The dark note in Steve’s voice was absolutely wicked. This was the side of Steve that Tony loved bringing out. Everyone thought the supersoldier was some kind of boyscout. They were wrong. Sex with Steve was almost always a gritty, filthy, affair. 

“Fuck me.”

“As you wish.” Steve pulled away and paced across the kitchen. Confused, muscles trembling with need, Tony worked himself up onto his elbows, legs dangling over the edge of the table to stare after Steve’s retreating form. When Steve returned with a bottle of olive oil in hand, a short sigh of relief left him. 

Of course. Lube. Always the gentleman, his Steve. Except for those rare occasions when he had fucked him dry. Because Tony had wanted to feel the burn. 

Tony slumped back down onto the table, the bottle of olive oil thumping down next to his head as Steve made quick work of stripping off his pajama bottoms and long johns. He cried out as Steve fisted his aching cock, the hot heat of that calloused palm tugging up and down in full, long, strokes. Working him up, driving him crazy. Every muscle in his body was tense, taut as a bow string, hands scrabbling at the table cloth as hot cries escaped his lips. 

“I’m going to make you come. Then, I’m going to fuck your tight ass while you squirm on my dick from overstimulation. And then I’m going to make you come again.”

Tony thunked his head back against the table, ignoring the way it made his teeth rattle. 

“Promises, promises, Cap…” he panted, as the hand around his cock tightened, the pace quickening. 

And Steve made good on that promise. He wrung not just one, but two orgasms out of Tony. One from a handjob that Steve drew out- edging him for nearly half an hour, the second from a merciless prostate massage with olive oil slicked fingers. By the time he slid inside of him, Tony was a hot panting mess. His cries were swallowed by Steve’s kiss, Steve’s hips working into his ass in a punishing rhythm. Tony yelped as Steve bent down, moving Tony’s leg up and onto his shoulder so he could work himself deeper and harder inside of him. Steve fucked him like that, right there on the kitchen table, with his ass pulled to the edge, one leg up and the other hooked around Steve’s waist. Steve’s hands at his hips, holding him still, not letting him escape the hot press of cock inside of him. Tony yowled, arched, cried out, but nothing he did slowed Steve’s rhythm. 

He fucking loved it.

Some indeterminable time later, after Steve had made him come yet a third time in a dry pulsing, orgasm, the super soldier finally came to a slow and languid stop - a gravel lined groan rumbling out of his throat. Tony felt every single twitch and jerk of the thick cock inside of him, knew his red,  stretched, hole was weeping copious amounts of Steve’s come.

Exhausted, wrung out, Tony lay limp and boneless on the table as Steve pressed a hot kiss to the shell of his ear.

“On the bright side, I think we ruined the table cloth.”

Steve laughed, chest shaking with it.

“No more running.” Tony whispered. “I love you, Steve.”

“I love you too, Tony.”

#stony prompt #stony #fanfiction #steve x tony #marvel #tony stark #angst #stony fanfiction #stony fic #stevetony #snowstorm #snowed in #smut #sayah writes

[therollingstonys]

Stony prompt #1!!

Video inspiration (warning, it’s porn 😂)

Steve comes out of the ice and for some reason he can’t come. No matter what he tries, no matter how long he tries for, he just. Can’t. Come. Desperate, he searches for answers on the internet (bad choice, holy god there’s so much more to porn these days than he knew), and then he stumbles on a man called Dr Cum Control. Curious, he does a little research and finds out that none of his clients are allowed to see his face, but as he’s watching the videos posted online, Steve finds himself…compelled. Aching to come and so on edge that he’s making mistakes during Avengers missions, he makes an appointment with the good Doctor and goes upstate to a cabin by a lake to see if the man can help him. Sure, he’s straight and is a little nervous that he won’t actually be able to enjoy it because of that, but he’d liked the videos and seen more than a few where straight guys were made to come, so theoretically it’ll be the same for him. Once at the cabin he follows the instructions and heads to the play room where he strips, sits on the chair provided and then puts on the blindfold as instructed. Despite his worries, Steve has no trouble getting hard, and after being edged until he feels like he’ll lose his mind, the Doctor makes him come over and over again until he’s shaking with overstimulation and exhaustion. Once back home though, he finds that he *still* can’t come on his own, even when he tries to replicate what the Doctor had done. One appointment leads to more, until Steve is going every week, obsessed with the way the doctor touches him, talks to him, praises him. He can’t honestly say he’s straight anymore, and even when he makes himself come on his own, he keeps going back, desperate to have the Doctor’s hands on him and hear his voice murmuring praise softly in his ear.

One day though, the team deals with the fallout of Tony’s leaked sex tape and despite his best efforts not to watch, he winds up hearing Tony say “That’s it, you’re doing so well sweetheart,” on the tape and all of a sudden he’s back in that chair with Doctor Come Control and shaken with the realization that the Doctor is Tony. Angry and hurt and confused he almost cancels his next appointment, but instead goes and waits till he’s in the usual position, eyes blindfolded, and when Tony enters the room, greets him by his name. What follows is a painful discussion about why Tony didn’t just say something the first time, about Steve’s confusion over his sexuality, and about what comes next. Tony offers to distance himself from Steve, but Steve quickly realizes that’s the last thing he wants because he’s fallen for Tony. Their kiss is desperate and intense, and after, Steve gets all the sessions he wants with the good Doctor, except now they’re not sessions, it’s just sex with his boyfriend.

#stony #stony prompt #mod Stella’s prompts #prompt free to good home #superhusbands #stevetony

[sunnysideprincess]

Steve and Tony meet at a bar. Steve's celebrating his lucky thirty and Tony's finally done with his third PhD. They are on the opposite sides of the room, both with a different friend group and when their eyes meet—sparks fly. Tony's swooning when Steve shoves him up against the car, orders the cab driver to take them to Steve's place: a modest two bedroom flat. Steve loves how sweet Tony is, how hot and bothered both of their bodies are. How they are both unwilling to let go of each other even when Steve has to open the door. How when Steve takes off his shirt, Tony follows suit. How Steve has Tony pinned underneath, touching his feverish, sweat soaked skin and wait—

"Are you okay," Steve asks in between, stopping his cold touches so suddenly that Tony mewls an embarrassingly high pitched sound.

"Yes! Why'd you stop?"

"Well, you're kinda hot."

"Only kinda," Tony huffs out a laugh, then frowns when Steve touches his forehead like his mama used to do. Worse, Steve backs off with a loud, exasperated sigh, hands on his waist as he stares him down.

"I think you're sick."

"I'm not."

Turns out, he is.

Turns out Tony might be the first one ever to end up taking a nap, drinking chicken soup and being mothered by his supposed hook up to get rid of his exhaustion induced fever.

#hot mess Tony Stark #Steve Rogers has the brain cell here #hook ups gone wrong #in a sweet way #tony stark #steve rogers #stony #stevetony #deb thinks out loud #prompts #prompt #fic prompt

[duchessonfire]

I came up with this prompt and I don't know what to do with it: pre-Iron Man era Tony Stark sees Steve Rogers on TV, lusts after him and wants to send money for his political campaign (because Tony uses money to flirt) and then receives this infuriating answer from Steve's campaign HQ:

Dear Mr. Stark,

We thank you for your interest in Steve Rogers’ “Build A Better Brooklyn” campaign for New York’s 8th congressional district in the US House of Representatives. Mr. Rogers’ campaign started from grassroots initiatives aimed at fixing issues close to Mr. Rogers’ heart, and which we believe will make our community “A Better Brooklyn.” These issues include, but are not restricted to: better housing in low-income communities that have been plagued by predatory real estate practices, the widespread development of rent-controlled housing units in areas disproportionally affected by gentrification, the protection of and advocacy for Omegas’ equal rights, the rewriting of school curriculums to make them more inclusive of all designations and encourage critical thinking in pupils, efforts to stop the disenfranchisement of young people of color and queer youths, community gardens to provide nutritious food in areas without proper access to affordable fruits and vegetables, fine-free public libraries and volunteer-led community centers to gather multi-generational crowds and fight off illiteracy…

Mr. Rogers and each one of us here at the head-quarters of the “Build A Better Brooklyn” campaign would like to thank you for the sizable donation that you offered to make to help Steve Rogers enter the House of Representatives, so that he can defend the interests of our community.  

Unfortunately, we cannot accept said-donation, as we believe that some, or all, parts of it may have originated from our list of “banned companies” which we deem harmful to the lives and values of the people of Brooklyn and, more generally, of the American people. This list includes, but is not restricted to: Stark Industries, Hammer Industries, Advanced Idea Mechanics (A.I.M), Union Allied, Confederated Global Investments, Vancorp, Red Lion National Bank, Sloan Limited, Cross Technological Enterprises, Oscorp Industries…

Steve Rogers and each one of us here at the “Build a Better Brooklyn” head-quarters believes that the fight for our community’s values begins by divesting ourselves from companies that have repeatedly harmed our fellow Americans and, more generally, our fellow human beings around the world. Until such a time when these companies have taken the necessary steps to stop their harmful practices, we will not be able to accept any donation linked to these companies for our campaign funds.

Sincerely,

Jane Foster, volunteer for the “Build A Better Brooklyn” campaign

Cue intense love-hate relationship between Tony and Steve, and all the enemies to lovers you can handle. Might write a fic for it, might not. If anyone wants a crack at it in the meantime... (a/b/o does not necessarily needs to be included, I just came up with it like that)

#mcu stony #stony #stony fanfiction #stony prompt #tony stark #steve rogers #marvel prompt #a/b/o universe #a/b/o verse #avengers a/b/o #omegaverse #steve rogers x tony stark #enemies to lovers

[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!!’

#asks #answers #thank you! #writing prompt #prompt fic #stony #stevetony #clint barton #first kiss #fluff #domestic fluff #mother hen #drabble #ficlet #fanfiction #fan fic #writblr

[mischievous-thunder]

Person A: I'm so sorry... I was just trying to flirt with you.

Person B: You roasted me. For half an hour straight.

Person A: As I said, I was just trying to flirt.

#imagine your otp #fanfiction ao3 #otp prompts #writing promt #ineffable husbands #symbrock #lokius #geraskier #hannigram #destiel #wolfstar and drarry #thorki #sambucky #johnlock #superbat #blackbonnet ofmd #stucky #spideypool #stony #radskier