tony: mr. Rogers, do you have a moment? Or are you busy regretting your life choices?
steve: I already said I’m sorry for making you decaf!
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tony: steve and I aren't dating.
tony: we’re not.
rhodey: I believe you.
steve: *kisses tony’s cheek* hey sweetheart.
tony: I don’t know him.
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Tony: I love you
Steve: I love you, too
Tony: My snickerdoodle
Steve: My sweetheart
Tony: My stud muffin
Steve: My sunshine
Tony: My love
Steve: My bees knees
Tony: My boo
Steve: My fella
Bucky: Love you, bitch
Sam: Love you, too, asshole
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steve: do you want a quickie?
tony: ex-excuse me?
steve: a quickie, one of those tart things.
tony: IT’S PRONOUNCED QUICHE!
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Natasha: I really tried to give it to you, Tony
Tony, angry that Bucky stole his win: I know you did, I tried letting you give it to me
Tony: but Barnes put his dick in my ass!
Steve, entering the room: What?!
Bucky, panicking: I did NOT put my dick in your ass, Stark, let me be perfectly clear
Tony: You put it right in!
Bucky: I didn't!
Tony: Natasha was sliding into my DMs and you whipped her dick away with yours and put it in!
Bucky: He's talking about the game!
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Steve and Tony: *arguing for the seventh time that day*
Clint: Just fuck already!
Tony: We tried that
Steve: It didn't work
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The first time Tasha met her little brother she was fifteen, months away from being sixteen, in her second year at MIT, and Tony had only turned four.
She had been visiting her father for the first time after the fight for matters she couldn’t remember. It involved a project, she knew that. A project he’d been working on tirelessly, but didn’t talk about until after the mandatory greetings, and catching up with each other’s lives. The usual “anything new” and “what have you done over the weekend” and “stay out of trouble.” All the while walking the very empty mansion that Howard now called home.
Without her mother to decorate, the place was barren. A mockery of Tasha’s childhood home. Her mother had laid claim to that, to the house she had grown up in, as a part of their agreement to ‘work things out,’ even though they all knew it was still going to lead to divorce by the look of it. A punishment, if you will.
Let Howard sleep in the bed he had made.
Howard had gone on and on, talking about recent breakthroughs and what occurred in the Gala he attended with Maria three feet apart from him. Calculations and probabilities and how he felt he was so close to finally finding Captain America. They just needed to search one more time.
Tasha had heard that line far too many times to count. The "Search for Captain America one more time." One more time had been the one more time seven times ago. She had learned to ignore this and not engage. It only led to dead ends and black holes with her father.
So as the time before, she followed him as he lead her to his lab to go over the project. Through this alien mansion, they went. Passing a variety of doors after doors, all either opened or shut tight with lock and key if the door possessed the ability. Something that should’ve tipped her off from the start, but she was so engrossed with studying this barren place she ignored all the warning signs Howard had clearly put all over. All the little things that were meant to punish the little party that had no control whatsoever over what had occurred.
She ignored these signs in favor of judging the little the place had, feeling justified this was what Howard had to deal with now. Payback for what he had done to her mother. Granted he still had hired help to keep the place clean at least. He still had money to sweep things under the rug and pretend nothing had occurred to the public, but to Tasha and her mother, this place with life practically nonexistent, it was a first step.
That was until she saw him. A tiny body hunched on the floor. Papers scattered everywhere around him. Basic math, or attempts at it, written on them. Tasha would have been impressed if she had not been left utterly stunned by the door when Howard decided to march in the room and discipline the child by screaming at him in a manner no child should ever have to be subjected to.
She gasped and covered her mouth when Howard raised a hand at the child, heard a very audible slap, and saw the tiny body crumbled to the floor. Sobs soon followed. Sobs that should’ve been loud and uncontrollable, piercing the room with a cry for his carer, but were muffled and subdued. It was something awful.
She stood there, gaping, as Howard sauntered back out of the room, feeling satisfied with what he had done. The child was left to pick up his papers, sniffling all through his task. Not a wail out of him. Then he looked up when he realized there was still someone watching. It was then that Tasha knew exactly who it was.
The brown eyes that took after Howard. A contrasts with Tasha’s own, who she took after from her mother. There was no mistaking this was the child, the evidence, of Howard’s infidelity. That brought to light everything that Howard had once tried to hide. That had destroyed Tasha’s family. Right here, sitting before her.
The child was now under Howard’s care. Howard’s responsibility to look after, and also the source of all his anger. All conveniently under his roof and all handily under no supervision.
Before Tasha had even entered Howard’s lab, she had already come to a decision about the child. By all means, she had every right to be mad at the situation. Her family was split in two. Her mother had been hurt. Tasha was left in the middle, pressured to act as if nothing was wrong and ordered to speak to both parties, even though she’d like nothing more than to cut off one side. The side that had refused to acknowledge his wrongdoings.
She was mad, but her anger was aimed at the one responsible, not the one whose only fault was simply being born and was now being punished for it.
That night, on pure impulse alone, she walked out of the barren mansion holding Tony’s hand and a bag of clothing. She left no notice to her father. Not that she suspected he’d care. Howard would probably be ecstatic to have the child gone, but if she was proven wrong she was ready to fight tooth and nail to keep Tony far away from him.
That night, her three-bedroom apartment was introduced to a new resident, and Rhodey was introduced to his new little brother and later, much later, to his brother-in-law.
That night, Tasha learned very quickly that taking in a four-year-old was no walk in the park, but Rhodey and Mama Rhodes were there to help every step of the way.
On that night, Tasha became Tony’s rock. His important person. His parental figure. His big sister that he could always go for help. The person one Steven Grant Rogers needed to go to in order to ask for permission to date him. Her and also Colonel James Rhodes, who both stared down at him, into his very soul, as he was covered in sweat and stuttering for their permission to court their pseudo son.
All the while Tony was there, complaining that he didn’t need permission from anyone to date a national hero and “Tashaaaa, stop scaring him already. Don’t chase him away like you did all the other guys I tried to date.”
“Hush, Bumble Bee. I need to vent your future boyfriend. Assert dominance. If he thinks he can come in and sweep you off your feet with no trouble he has another thing coming.”
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steve rogers (husband of tony stark and father of peter parker) would get along fucking SWIMMINGLY with Castiel (husband of dean winchester, father of Jack Kline, angel of... Jack Kline).
- the following conversation Is Had:
steve: I was born in 1918 😔. For so long, I felt like an outsider.
cas: man, I feel you. bce?
- also this one:
steve: yeah, it took me and Tony a while to get our heads out of our asses and talk about Us, you know?
cas: do I ever. me and dean were friends for 12 years before we got together. it feels like we've been together way longer than 5 years.
steve: ... you adopted jack as friends?
- basically Cas makes superhuman time traveler Steve Rogers feel normal, which is nice
- sometimes they paint together! steve is noticably better, but it doesn't bother cas in the slightest. once, cas paints jack a painting of a monkey just because, and jack cries when he gives it to him.
- maybe after steve knows about cas' angelic inclinations:
steve: I miss them sometimes, these people from my past. My mother, Peggy... Hell, even the man I thought Howard was.
cas: if it helps, they're in heaven. they're happy...
cas: except for Howard.
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Hope you like! <3
Steve groaned as he smacked his very blank, very sorry-looking sketchbook against his forehead. Two hours. He’d sat on this bench, in the middle of Avengers Park, with the most outstanding view of the fountain decorated with the leaves of Autumn. Bright orange and red with the rays of the sun making it all shine. A scene straight out of a book, having taken pages to tell. For two hours.
Steve had tried over and over again to sketch the beautiful sight, hoping it might be his comeback against this drawer’s block he’d suffered for the past two weeks, but no. It was not his comeback and the sight had long since disappeared after an hour.
Now, he stood here stubbornly out of principle. He was not going to move until something appeared on the blank pages. Whether from him or from some miracle created by magic, time or some reality bender.
Considering nothing still hadn’t appeared, he wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed long after curfew. Still, nothing short of Nick Fury scolding him to go to bed was going to make him move from this bench. He was going to fight this block and he was going to best it.
After ten more minutes, he threw his sketchbook out of frustration in his backpack and grabbed his water to drink. He needed a break. He needed a walk. With a scowl, he grabbed his pack and made to walk around in a circle. A quick trip to Club A was very tempting, but he knew himself. The moment he spotted a friend there, they’d invite him over for a game or a dance and he wouldn’t be able to resist. Once he started he was not going to stop and all his plans were going to go out the window.
Though, as he passed the fountain to head further into the park where the trees were the thickest, his ire grew a notch more and the thought of giving up sounded more and more desirable.
He pushed on. Captain America was no quitter and neither was Steve Rogers. He had made a name for himself with his stubborn attitude and small stature (for an alpha) long before Project Rebirth. All the serum had done was give him strength and cured his ailments and refused to touch his small stature. Steve’s persistence (or as Bucky usually called it “pigheadedness”) was all him.
Eventually, his attitude will prove worth it. He just needed to keep going. He’ll find his muse again. He’ll conquer this block. He will - he’ll - oh…
That - that was a pretty sight, he thought.
There, under the rustling trees, was Tony. Sitting on a large stone, crossed-leg and working on his gauntlet with a screwdriver. He was focused on his work, pink tongue sticking out in concentration. Around him, the red and orange leaves loosened from their home and glided down. The sun’s rays broke through the branches, bright over the omega and only the omega.
Tony glowed under the attention and Steve was captivated.
Sure the omega was cute, in his own Tony-isk kind way, and while Steve found him charming in the best of days, Tony still managed to find ways to get under his skin. One needed a lot of energy to deal with the Stark heir. Steve needed double that as Tony enjoyed teasing him the most.
This, however, was something else. Yes, Tony was pretty, but Steve hadn’t grasped just how pretty the omega could be.
Unconsciously, he reached over for his sketchbook, grabbed his trusty pencil, took a seat on the ground and got to work. By the time he even realized what he was doing, he had mostly sketched Tony down to the details of his jacket, the shading of the stone, the blur of the leaves and the blending of the sun’s rays.
He stared at it in amazement. Not fifteen minutes ago he was struggling to even draw a line. Now, he had a near-complete illustration of his newfound inspiration. It was no simple sketch. No simple outline he had planned to fulfil in order to start combating his mind block.
He preened at the sight. He had drawn this in a matter of minutes. As if he had never suffered his block in the first place. All thanks to the omega who was currently walking towards him.
In a panic, he jumped up and shut his sketchbook. Cheeks going a little red when Tony tilted his head questionably at the action. When the omega reached him, Steve’s face was in full color as he hid his book away in his backpack. Safe from prying eyes.
“Hey, Cap. What’chu drew there?” Tony smiled. Looking down at him with curiosity in his eyes.
“Just the scenery.” He gestured to the still rustling trees, making sure not to include Tony in it. “The falling leaves and the sun created a pretty view. I took the chance while I could.”
“Just the leaves and the sun, huh? You didn’t include me in there?” With a grin, Tony wiggled his eyebrows. Implying more in his words. Steve was about to quickly deny it, feeling his hands get sweaty, but Tony continued with a laugh. “Just kidding, Cap. You should’ve seen the look on your face.”
Steve’s heart jumped. Wow, Tony looked even prettier smiling.
“Hey, you hungry? Wanna grab something to eat?” Tony said while not even looking at Steve.
The question mostly came out of habit with alternatives to getting a drink or coffee or doughnuts. Tony had asked Steve countless times in the past and Steve always rejected him with excuses of being too busy or having promised someone else already. It was just expected for it to come out during their interactions. A pattern between them with no hard feelings.
Normally, Steve would say no, bid farewell and leave, but this time - this time he took a chance.
“Sure, I’m in the mood for burgers. How about you?”
Tony looked surprised. “Oh, really? I mean - yeah, burgers sound fine.”
“Let’s go then.” He was eager to see where this led.
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I regret nothing for this.
Omega Tony and Alpha Steve have been together for a while now. They're very sexually active and very open to trying new things. Usually it's Steve who brings the suggestions because he's not the boyscout or virgin everyone thinks he is.
After exploring the internet and discovering a site listing kinks, one in particular sticks to his mind. He brings it up to Tony, who's eyebrows reach his hairline when Steve says he wants to try it out. It's not one Tony thought about before, but he's going to say no. He'll try almost anything at least once.
He gets to work setting up a little spot in their bedroom for it, getting temporary but sturdy walls attached, padding on the floor for extra comfort and drilling in the main focus.
Certainly something to think about and for sure they've both been thinking about it a lot now. They're a little eager and when it comes time to finally try it they make quick work on the roleplay and get to work on the main show.
Tony is on his hands and knees, ass against the wall and barely holding on as Steve moves rapidly, nearly knocking the wall down in his desire to fuck Tony through the barrier.
Steve is so into it, so distracted, that he misjudge his timing and accidentally knots Tony while still through the wall. The knot comes so fast that neither of them have time to stop the inevitable.
They're stuck now. Tony on his knees, ass in the air and Steve kneeling, pressed very close to the fake wall, muscles straining as he tries not to yank too much. They're both unable to move. They're very uncomfortable and very embarrassed once the high dies down at their situation.
They never live it down.
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Steve, a little overwhelmed with the new customs of this new time and the dos and don'ts in romancing someone you're interested in, asks Tony for tips on how to wine and dine the girl. Tony agrees to help, going so far as to set up practice dates and using himself as the stand in date. Steve thinks it ridiculous Tony would go this far, but will never admit how grateful he is for the step by step.
He goes through intense date training. Attends every lesson on time and writes all the notes. He listens intently and asks all the question. He learns quick. Very quick. So quick, in fact, that even Tony is impressed and calls him his star pupil. A meaningless title, but certainly true.
Tony gives Steve the passing grade, declares him ready and throws him into the world. "Go and get the girl, Cap. Use everything I've taught you."
And Steve does. He takes everything he learned, gets all his best lines ready, puts on his best suit and gets to work winning his date.
Hours later, a very shocked Tony Stark is lying in his bed, very naked and very flustered and with no idea how exactly he got there.
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I GOT ONE I FINALLY GOT ONE!! Ok, picture this. The squad is in a battle, like really intense bones are broken and tears are shed. Towards the end of the battle Tony gets capsickled, as in he is frozen in his suit and dropped in the ocean. Steve FREAKS, PTSD and feral yearning for blood kicking in BUT he has to finish the battle. By the time the battles over with Tony has sunk too far down/ or they lost exact coordinates And have to call Sheild in in with a big ship and regroup. While all of this is going on Tony is stuck in a pressurized suit that is stuck. He has a decent or so amount of air and his com still works. WHICH IS THE ONLY REASON Steve hasn’t swam down there himself to get his boo. Bucky may have to tackle him a few times but what do you think all mighty naferty wizard!! I love you I hope you are well!!!!!!!
Whoo, this is a big doozy one for me. The angst. The hurt. The panic as Tony is left immobile and sinking further down the waters. The light his suit provides is a small candle, barely able to light the darkness in front of him. Tony only has his thoughts and his comms to keep him company, keep him calm, as his team works quickly to swim down and pick him up.
Steve tries to stay calm, he does, he really does, but when Tony starts to panic Steve panics and when Steve panics Tony panics more and it’s this horrible cycle that makes it worse every passing second. Natasha has to step in and separate the two while Bucky pulls Steve away and talks him down. At times needing to sit on him in order to stop Steve from jumping over the rails and swim down to Tony.
Once Tony is calm Natasha hands over the reigns to Clint, who with his years of experience crawling through the tiniest of passages and waiting patiently for hours as he scouts and observes, is the perfect candidate to talk Tony through this.
“Take deep slow breaths, Tony,” Clint tells him. “Breathe with me,” he tries when Tony takes shuddering ones instead. “In,” he inhales slowly, exaggerating the sound so Tony could hear. “Out,” he exhales, “That’s right,” he encourages when he hears Tony’s long breaths. “One more time. In. Out. That’s good. Get your nerves settled. This is just another day in your suit. You’re stuck again and we’re coming to save your ass like usual. We’ll be there soon, don’t you worry and when we find your ass you’ll owe us a nice dinner, right? Breathe again. In and out. Do it with me. In and out. That’s right. You’re a natural. Did I tell you about the time I crawled through my chimney, trying to pretend to be jolly old Santa clause? Didn’t work out. I forgot we actually use the thing and it was covered in ash. Came out with my suit all black and the beard beyond saying. The living room was no better.”
Clint continues on, telling ridiculous story after ridiculous story of his adventures crawling, squeezing, and getting stuck in the most random of places. He gets a chuckle or five out of Tony. Good signs that the man is still there and still kicking.
Bucky returns sometime later, pulling a disgruntled Steve by the arm. He plops the man down on a chair and orders him to stay put. Steve does with a pout but it melts away when he hears Tony laugh through the comms.
“Hey, Sweetheart.” He says, feeling hope rise.
“Hi, Steve. Did you behave for Bucky?”
Bucky snorts. “The hell he did. I nearly had to knock him out.”
Steve glares at the man. “As if you could.”
“Oh, oh, sounds like a challenge. I’d love to see that.”
“Maybe once you’re back to us. We’ll get to you soon. I promise.”
“I know you will. I’ll just wait here. Maybe practice my singing. It’s been a while.”
“Oh, Darling, just wait until I’m back up there. If it gets you to hurry it up I’ll sing anything you want.”
They eventually get the signal to Tony’s location and it takes both Bucky and Thor to wrangle Steve in before the man jumps in with no gear. Once the man is safely secured, Thor orders the Agents to hand over an underwater suit, stating he’d be faster than any of their diving machines.
He goes in, has Mjolnir guide his way through the waters, find Tony and yank him back up within minutes. No one is as relieved as Steve to see Iron Man. Even more so when Thor yanks the helmet off like nothing and Tony looks at the sky in amazement. Steve is by his side within moments, having freed himself from the binds and yanks Tony in for a hug.
“Never do that again,” he tells the genius.
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Avengers as things I’ve overheard at work part 3
Tony: Steve you’re a lesbian right?
Steve: do I have depression? I don’t think so? Why are you asking me that?
Clint: what do you mean innuendos I never make innuendos!
Clint five seconds later: Can you move up a bit I’m trying to come beneath you.
Natasha: sometimes when a customer leaves the door open I go, slam it shut, and then stand in front of them and glare for a few seconds. They often will tip really well out of sheer terror.
Bruce: You’re really testing my limits. If you don’t fucking do your job I will break you
The coffee machine:
Tony: I’m so attractive, that’s why we’re busy today, the customers want to see my face
Thor: such a large ego for such a small man
Rhodey: the words you’re looking for is miniature and boy
Tiny: Tony: you’re supposed to be mature!
Tony: I’d make a great chiropractor. I break people’s backs every night
Bruce: chiropractors fix backs
Tony: if no backs are broke their are no backs to fix. Break the back for a pay check. Have you never heard that phrase?
Bruce: no because you just made it up
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ULTIMATES BOOK CLUB; JANUARY SCHEDULE:
Same as in 2020, All Clubs are going to remain AT 20:00 UTC EVERY FRIDAY (what time is that for me). Please don’t be afraid to jump in with us after that time though!
Here’s the schedule:
January 8th: ULTIMATE POWER 1 - 4
January 15th: ULTIMATE POWER 5 - 9
January 22nd: ULTIMATE HUMAN 1 - 4
January 29th: CATCH UP CLUB / ULTIMATE WOLVERINE VS HULK
If you’ve not heard of Ults book club before, click here. We’ve been reading along for a bit of time now, but it’s not too late to join in. All our January clubs are simple reads to catch up with later if you need to read Ultimates One and Two to join us. Or, if you don't need the full read, ULTIMATE SAGA recaps ALL of them both! Remember, we’re here to help you catch up! (Join our server here)
And as a reminder, we have now published our official reading list. Click here!
Your book club mods, myself, @loraneldin, @festiveferret, hope you’re ready to join us!
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Today I'm thinking a lot about Stucky, Stony and Peggy+Steve... Like, I just know Stucky is First Love Shit™ and Stony is Husbandism Shit™, but what exactly is Steve and Peggy? I mean, are they just What Could've Been Shit™? Idk, but I feel an essay getting ready to be born... (Yeah, I'm talking about the MCU)
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Top 5 works 2020
Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!
Tagged by the always incredible @summerpipedream
I didn’t write as much new stuff as I would’ve liked, but the few I did are still running in my head with ways to expand on them and the olds still have much potential!
1. Stark Holiday (Steve/Tony)
It starts with a letter.
Particularly, it starts with Tony's letter to have a friend as his gift.
It changes his entire life.
Tony writes a letter for a friend, he finds a new family. Steve writes a letter for a friend, he finds love years late. I’ve got ideas of where this can go and am excited for it.
2. MCU Incubus and Demons (Steve/Tony)
Incubus Tony went out to only find a meal for the night. He ends up bonding himself to a demon instead.
This is a continuation of the au. Steve wakes up after being found by SHIELD and immediately goes to Tony after being gone for 70 years. A personal fave of mine. One day, I’ll get a fic going. Just don’t know if I should do MCU or an original au.
3. fuck me (never let go) (Steve/Tony)
Tony Stark lived a very promiscuous life. It was no secret he had sex. It was on his title, under his resume, probably in some autobiography someone was currently writing and listed on the very top of his wiki page.
The bottom line, he had sex and a lot of it. He knew it. The public knew it. The Avengers knew it.
The problem lied with the people who spoke out against it. Against him. The public. His rep. Pepper. Steve fucking Rogers.
He had sex and he wasn't planning to stop, until a rash and ill-advised hook up with Rogers forces him to.
(or Tony and Steve bond without realizing it. The effects make it hard for Tony to seek out anyone other than Steve)
Another ongoing, but it’s an opportunity to try writing about internalized problems with Tony the one freaking out.
4. Choice in Us (Steve/Bucky/Tony)
After his father made arrangements with Lord Stone, Tony had two choices. Follow through and live the rest of his life in an unhappy, unfulfilling marriage, or run away in the name of freedom and seek out his own future.
He chooses freedom, and finds a little more along the way.
A gift for Juulna but still a fave work.
5. Centaurs of Nome (Steve/Tony)
“Mister Steve!” Peter called behind him, pointing at one direction.
Tony turned and sure enough there was Steve, making his way towards them. Hat in his hand. It was undamaged and even clean. Tony watched him warily as he got closer. When Steve handed the hat over to his boy with a smile did Tony finally relax.
“Thank you,” Peter put the hat on, thankful to have it back. “What a crazy thing to do, Mister Steve. All to show off to a pretty boy,” he said in a plotting tone, or as plotting as a six-year-old could sound.
Caught a little off guard, Tony looked to his boy and then back to Steve. He wasn’t prepared for that comment and he certainly wasn’t prepared when Steve didn’t deny it either. The wild centaur smiled at him.
I love Balto and I wanted to write more centaur stuff. The two sounded perfect together so here we are.
Now I tag @panna-acida @athletiger @cleve98 @avengersfamilylove and anyone who would love to do this. Tag me please because I’d love to see your stuff!!
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Drunken Viscum Album
(Happy holidays, all!)
Steve felt good.
He felt beyond good. A warm good. Like warm chicken noodle soup running through his veins good.
He told Natasha as much and she snorted, held up her outrageously decorated mug and said something in what Steve assumed was Russian and took a swing. Steve followed suit and drank from his own in celebration to feeling good.
It was good to feel good. He shouted this and many of their teammates agreed. All together they held up a mug given to them by Thor and drank.
They were all gathered in the common floor of the tower. The walls decorated with lights and green and candy canes. A giant tree on the corner filled with presents. A table full of the many drinks they each provided and a line of snacks, chips, cookies and chocolates. There was no shortage of anything.
Except for their entire team. Sam and Bucky decided to be jerks and left to celebrate the night with Sam’s parents. They had told Steve it was an important thing. Something about Bucky meeting the parents, but Steve still thought they were mean.
Vision chose to do the same and went with Wanda and Pietro to meet their fathers. They were jerks, too, but not as big of jerks as Sam and Bucky. Those two were the biggest.
Many others had done the same, celebrating with parents or the parents of partners. The whole team wasn’t here, but those absent still came and wished them a ‘happy holiday’ and dropped off their gifts, snagging some snacks and promising to stop sometime to check the damage later.
Steve took a swing of his drink. They weren’t here to enjoy it, so Steve would do it for them. Not a drop would be wasted.
Natasha agreed and took another. She was an angel. Coming and celebrating with Steve. Clint was an angel, too. A questionable one. He came and went directly for the food before nabbing one of the mugs and trying his best to keep up with Natasha. Now, Clint was passed out on the couch, mug still in hand and a bowl of chips impressively balanced on his chest for Natasha.
Bruce was also here, but just like Clint was out cold. He was among the first if Steve remembered correctly. Instead of a couch though, Bruce was piggybacking on Thor, who refused to let him go. Bruce slept through everything Thor was doing. Laughing, shouting, boasting, moving around, Bruce wouldn’t wake but he also didn’t fall. Thor kept a good grip on him and at one point started parading the doctor around, proudly stating, “This is my doctor!” to anyone who would listen.
Steve was jealous of him. He wished he could show off his own genius, but Tony would never willingly piggyback on him. Tony wasn’t even out cold yet either. The genius was on the other side of the room, laughing and chatting with the Colonel. Both flushed and both leaning against each other to remain standing. Miss Potts was also there, sleeping soundly on a loveseat next to them. She had stopped by to personally wish them well wishes and give gifts but made the mistake of spotting the table full of drinks and snacks and there was no going back.
Time was moving, the eggnog was disappearing and the fun was still had. Then Tony and Colonel Jim went tumbling as they dragged each other to the door where mistletoe hanged. Steve watched fascinated as they each gave the other a kiss on their cheeks. Many of them. So many kisses.
When declared good enough, Colonel Jim tumbled away and Tony ordered another to join him. Thor marked his turn by stomping over, ready to bulldoze anyone in his way. Bruce continued to snore on his shoulder. Thor leaned down and gave a great big smack on Tony’s forehead, earning himself an indignant squawk from Tony. Tony still kissed his cheek and dragged him down further to kiss Bruce’s forehead.
Thor proclaimed victory and marched off to do more Thor things and Natasha took her chance to jump over the couch, roll when she misjudged her balance and still stopped perfectly in front of Tony, hair blowing in the wind and all. Tony gave her a gentle and respectful smooch, but Natasha would have none of that. She grabbed his face and peppered him with all the kisses, making sure to leave a lipstick mark on every inch of skin she could. Tony laughed and took it as a challenge, kissing back.
It was considered a draw eventually, but Steve kept count and knew technically Natasha had won. He wasn’t going to tell either of them that. They’d keep going, wanting to win and Steve wanted his turn already.
He leaped over Clint and his couch, tripped when the room spun in place, nearly knocked the coffee table over and managed to stand before Tony in one piece. Tony snickered, cheeks pink and bright, mumbled something incoherent and leaned up to give Steve his very much wanted kiss. It was sweet and gentle and very much short and landed on the corner of Steve’s lips.
Steve grumbled. That’s not where he wanted them. He moved his head slightly to the right and leaned down to catch Tony’s lips again. This time they hit their mark. Yes, good, right where Steve wanted them.
Tony made a squeaky noise before putting pressure, pressing himself against Steve. Without thinking, Steve wrapped his arms around the small genius and lifted him up. All without ever stopping the kiss.
When they pulled away it was to their awake team whistling. Natasha shouted a “напиток!” with her mug raised. Everyone did the same and took a swig. Steve had no mug to hold up, but he wanted to join in. He moved his arms so one forearm was under Tony’s butt and the other on his hip to hold him steady and lifted him up high.
Tony, in a panic, grabbed Steve’s head with an outraged “Steve! Put me down!”
Steve refused to do so but settled on lowering the genius. This was nice. He felt nice. Tony felt nice. Especially his firm butt. It was all nice.
He spent the rest of the night holding Tony and showing him off to everyone, especially Thor. “This is my engineer.”
They all eventually passed out, sleeping in odd angles and areas where they shouldn’t have gotten up to. Steve woke up with Tony still in his arms. It was still nice.
He never did live that day down, though. Not the greatest “How did you get together?” story. Not when Tony kept retelling it as a “Steve wouldn’t let go. I couldn’t say no.”
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(First Part. Recommend reading that before this one. Makes a little more sense!)
Steve once wrote a letter to get a best friend for Christmas. He had been eight-years-old, back when his health was bad and his scrawny child body had been scrawnier than most. Finding someone to be his friend proved to be a real puzzle.
He didn’t know why he chose that particular year to ask for a friend from the jolly man. Maybe the bullying had been particularly bad that year, or maybe he was finally old enough to understand the feeling of loneliness, either way, he wrote the letter and only asked for a friend while requesting other, important things for his ma.
Steve didn’t remember much of that year, but he did remember it was the year where he finally made a friend.
The boy had been similar in age as him, with the darkest eyes and darkest hair Steve had ever seen. Steve remembers the boy practically wore nothing against the cold. Only the thinnest little sweater and boots, while Steve had been wrapped in every jacket they had owned. As if the cold didn’t affect him.
Steve also remembered how the boy smiled at him. Wide and open. No sneer in sight. That year, Steve played in the snow for hours and never wanted to stop. He never wanted to say goodbye to the boy, to Tony.
The next day, Tony was still there and still wanted to be his friend. Steve had been overjoyed.
Then the next day and the next, until the strangest thing. Come the first day of the next year and Tony never returned. Vanished with no trail left behind. Little eight-year-old Steve had been heartbroken for a time but then he brilliantly resolved; he’ll just as the jolly man up north for his friend to return.
Come the following Christmas and… it worked. Tony came back and Steve had another wonderful holiday with his friend.
Then Tony disappeared on the first day of the following next year again, so Steve wrote another letter and come Christmas week, Tony was back.
This pattern repeated for years until Steve finally met Bucky one sunny day in February. A jerk who became his best friend. Thick as thieves and glued to the hip. They’d later join the military together and share an apartment.
Steve didn’t write a letter for this year, nor any of the following years, and didn’t recall ever seeing Tony. Steve hated to admit it, was a little ashamed of it to be honest, but he had forgotten all about Tony. About the letters. Until now.
His date with Sharon went well and seeing as Christmas was right around the corner one of the topics they had gone over had been their childhood holiday memories. What their families had done before. Any embarrassing stories for a particular year.
Steve remembered Tony and the letters. He told Sharon as much. A cute story in his childhood that he now chucked it up as pure coincidence. Tony had probably just been in the area visiting family and celebrating the holidays. Once Christmas was over he’d return back to wherever he lived and then return again to Steve’s neck of the woods to visit and celebrate.
Sharon agreed and they smiled and laughed. Their date continued until they had to go, but they left agreeing to try again. Steve liked Sharon. He could see himself dating her if it worked out, but not anything further than that. They needed a bit more time for that.
He returned to his apartment with the discussions of the date in mind. Specifically, the letters and Tony. To many, including himself, it really could have just been a coincidence. A little boy visiting distant family that happened to live in Brooklyn and looking for a friend to play with for the week, but what had happened on the year Tony never returned? A falling out with his family? Rebellious teenage faze where family reunions were too boring for him so he whined and whined until he was allowed to stay home?
Steve couldn’t say, but it did catch his curiosity. What are the odds the letters and Tony are connected? Low, but who would it hurt if Steve wrote one more? For old time’s sake, and as an apology for having forgotten his old friend.
So, he wrote.
A simple letter consisting of questioning his sanity for writing to jolly ol’ Saint Nick as a full-grown adult and mentioning his old friend who Steve was curious to see now. See how Tony had grown, how he looked, what became of his life after.
How Steve had come to miss him now that he remembered him.
He signed it and sent it on its way. Never to be seen for Steve had no idea where letters addressed to a fictional character go.
Just as years before, Steve had forgotten about it shortly after. Not out of malicious intent. He just had so much to do. Work, check on Bucky, share a coffee with Sam, meet with Sharon for another date and promise a third, drop off lunch for Natasha, make sure Clint hadn’t been thrown overnight in jail, figure out his budget for presents, the list went on and on.
The 21st came upon him pretty quick. Steve thought nothing of it. Just a regular, rare day-off. Get up for the day, stop by his favorite coffee place for a little treat and enjoy his free time before meeting up with Natasha and Bucky for some dinner.
He had just gotten in line for his drink and slice of cake and was looking around the establishment when something caught his eye. A sweater. A thin and outrageously colorful little thing, worn by a man sitting at a table. There was no sign of a coat or jacket or anything else to keep warm. Just a sweater, pants and boots.
There were inches of snow outside and the wind was unforgiving. Only someone insane would wear a simple sweater.
The questionable sanity of the man caught Steve’s attention. Then Steve noticed the man looking at him. Embarrassed at being caught, Steve turned away and stubbornly pretended he saw no one.
His stomach dropped when at the corner of his eye sweater-man stood and made his way towards him. He felt his face heat up. Sweater-man was going to demand to know why he had been staring and Steve would have to somehow explain why he had been fixated by the sweater-man’s choice of clothing.
“Excuse me?” Sweater-man said.
Steve accepted his fate. This was his end. “Yes?”
Sweater-man smiled. Wide and open, with exposed pearly whites. “Steve, it’s good to see you again.”
Steve’s mind blue-screened. Again? Steve had met sweater-man? When? Where? Steve may forget people from his childhood, but he prided himself on easily remembering faces as an adult. He’d remember a face like sweater-man’s. Pointy nose, round doe-eyes, fluffy dark hair and a goatee. It was a face Steve would easily remember put together.
He didn’t remember sweater-man.
“I’m sorry,” Steve said softly, “I don’t recall. Where did we meet?”
The smile remained, growing a little wider. “I’m not surprised. It’s me, Tony. Remember us playing in the snow way back when?”
Steve’s jaw nearly made friends with the floor. “No way,” the odds were supposed to be low! How was it possible he’d run into Tony after just having thought about him. “Oh, my god, how have you been?”
“I’ve been great. Busy. This is my busiest time of the year so finding time to relax is a miracle, let me tell you.”
Steve got a better look at the man. Shorter than himself but carrying some muscle. Visible through the fabric of the sweater and pants. Slightly pale, as if he rarely saw the light of day but pink on his cheeks and nose. Looking at his face a second time… it was a handsome face. Tony was a very handsome man.
His holiday friend had grown up to be a very fine man.
“What do you do?” Steve moved out of the line, not wanting to create traffic as he caught up with an old friend.
“I’m in the posting business. Distributing, mailing, take your pick.” There was a gleam in Tony’s eyes. As if he was revealing a secret.
“With the holidays coming up, no wonder you’re so busy.”
“Never busy enough for a cup of coffee, though, and enjoy a little stroll in the park. Care to join me?” The smile of before, the same smile Tony had often given him when they had been kids, made Steve’s heart skip a beat.
It was cold and the wind was hell. Only the brave or insane would take a stroll in the park in this weather. Steve eagerly said yes.
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It’s been a while for incubus and demons au, but I’ve been chatting with @athletiger and they inspired me to write this! The MCU version of the au.
Steve wakes up groggy and disoriented. Two words that are not associated with his name. Except for the one time he briefly felt it after narrowly escaping a reaper back when he and Bucky were only a hundred years old. Considered barely children to their people. They had been very stubborn and unwisely curious.
The reaper they had run into scared years out of their lives. Hundreds of years. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if he only lived to be a thousand, instead of a demon’s usual two thousand. The reaper did its job and cut his life already.
Bottom line. Steve has not felt this in a long time. It instantly put him on edge. The room is bare with brown walls and a radio on the nightstand reporting a game. He scans the space, suspicious of every nook and cranny. He half expects a Hydra goon to burst through the window or for Carter to come through the door and berate him for the stunt he pulled with the plane.
Someone does eventually come through the door. It’s not Carter and it’s not Hydra. It’s a woman. A human woman. Wearing the uniform he has grown accustomed to seeing each time he and the others had been at camp, but something is wrong. The uniform is wrong. The woman is wrong.
Steve studies the outfit and notes… the top is off. Her chest, it’s smooth. The cloth humans created for their human women, her bra, it’s not pointed. The bra has changed drastically. In a manner that is not possible overnight. A new style. Progressive fashion.
Steve is familiar with the fashion changing among humans and mythos. A large change such as this usually occurs in ten to twenty years. Meaning, ten to twenty years have passed while he was knocked unconscious.
His theory is only proven right when the radio mentions two teams that have played each other long before Steve even followed Tony and joined in the war.
This is all a lie. Created to make Steve believe no time had passed. Steve is no moron and he’s not about to let simple humans trick him like this. Not the American humans and not Hydra. No matter who has him captured, he’s not about to play along.
He looks out the window. The buildings outside. He can barely see them, but already he knows they’re vastly different. He’s in a city. He doesn’t know which one, but a city means people and people means figuring it out sooner.
He looks at the human woman. Gives her a cold stare. She fidgets. Steve will give her credit for hiding it well, but nothing hides from his sharp eyes. Then he feels it. In his chest. The bind. His Tony. He’s alive and he’s out there. Close. Behind these fake walls.
He moves fast. He uses his demon speed, breaking through the wall and ignoring the human woman screaming for him to stand down. Steve does catch her calling for backup, so he knows he won’t be alone for long. He runs down the street as fast as his numb legs can, but his speed is a mockery of his usual capability. He moves as slow as a human does. No, that’s far too generous. He moves as slow as an elf. It’s ridiculous, but he pushes on, running next to what are now the cars of this time.
They’re fast and they’re glossy and exactly what years of progress would give. The more he looks around the area the more he notes it can’t possibly have been twenty years gone. It’s more. Much more.
He doesn’t recognize where he is, but the human faces, body structures and the languages scattered around are familiar. He’s in America. He’s sure of it, and his Tony is around here somewhere.
Using the bind, he seeks his little incubus. The bind guides him further down the street, around corners, taking him exactly where Tony is. At one point he’s stopped by an eye-patched wearing person, who Steve suspects is a mythos, but he doesn’t bother guessing. The person tells him it’s been seventy years. Steve has missed seventy-years. The world moved on and advanced without him. He hadn’t been there to watch Tony grow its technology. Steve missed it.
He nods at the eye-patch man and then continues running, evading the man attempting to strike him with what he presumes is a device meant to sedate. It only encourages him to move faster. His body is finally catching up. His speed increases. From one second to the next he disappears within the crowd and is not seen by human eyes.
Within moments he comes upon a building. Not as grand or tall as the ones next to it, but it’s large and it’s ugly. It’s not where Steve expected to find Tony, but his bind is pulling him here. Quick as a flash, he enters and runs around, searching for the floor, for the room, where his little incubus is located.
He eventually does find where the bind is pulling him. It’s up to the highest floor. Almost the very top. There are large windows that give a great view of the city. Blue skies and white clouds everywhere. Tony is standing by one, looking at the civilians walking and driving the streets. He’s wearing a suit with polished, expensive-looking shoes and has a glass in his hand.
Steve stalks over, not really wanting to scare him but desperately wanting to hold him. Seventy-years is an awfully long time. Even if Steve doesn’t remember it, his body certainly does. He wants to hold his little incubus and never let go.
Only when he’s inches behind his Tony, does he finally speak. “Tony.”
Tony jumps. Literally jumps. His glass goes flying. His glamour fails and his wings, tail and horns come out. He whips around, arm coming closer to Steve to strike, but Steve has always been faster and he easily catches the offending appendage. The shock of it makes Tony freeze. Then his little incubus finally notices who is standing before him.
“Hey,” Steve says, moving his hand to hold Tony’s fingers between his own. “Am I late for our dance?”
Tony’s face is fuller and his facial hair has grown. No longer is it a simple stubble. Now, it covers his chin and jaw. A new style for the new time, Steve assumes. It looks good on him.
“Y-you -” Tony stutters and it does make Steve feel guilty. He didn’t mean to disappear for seventy-years. It wasn’t part of his plan.
He’s about to apologize for it, when Tony snaps. It’s seventy-years in the making and well-deserved, Steve admits.
“You fucking asshole!” Tony smacks his chest with his free hand. Over and over again. “You fucking demon asshole! How could you leave me like that?! You didn’t need to go down with that fucking plane. You have fucking wings! Why didn’t you fly?! You left me alone for seventy-years you selfish fucker!”
Steve lets him strike. They’re weak little smacks on him. He hardly feels it, but he knows Tony needs this. He was being selfish when he decided to stay with the plane at the last possible second. His arrogance playing a part in it. He had assumed he’d be able to escape with little trouble, but he misjudged the timing and the freezing temperature. His body gave out before he could even see the sight of land. Before he knew it, years passed without him, but it didn’t stop for Tony.
Tony went for seventy-years without him. Without his touch. Without his love. More importantly, without his main source of food.
Tony fed on someone other than Steve, and if not for Steve feeling guilty, he’d be royally pissed at the people who fed his incubus.
Tony kept striking until he eventually tired out. Steve panics a little when Tony starts shedding tears. Real, genuine tears. It’s not something he ever expected from his incubus, and yet here they were. Rolling down his cheeks and all meant for him.
Steve pulls him close, tucking him against his chest Tony just abused seconds ago. “I know. I’m sorry. I got cocky and we paid for it. I didn’t mean to leave you alone for seventy-years.”
Tony’s hiccups are muffled against his shirt. He doesn’t pull away. Not that Steve would let him. He holds him for minutes, rocking him until he settles and waits and waits. It’s Tony’s move. Steve currently has no right.
Tony eventually pulls back and looks up at Steve. His eyes are red and puffy, but he’s no longer shedding tears. It’s all out and smeared on Steve’s shirt.
Steve tilts his head in question. It prompts Tony to move closer and kiss him. Steve kisses back. Eager to give this to his little incubus. The kiss is soft, gentle. It’s seventy-years in the making. He expresses his remorse through it. All his remorse and guilt and regret, asking his Tony for forgiveness for his arrogance.
Tony’s hands move to hold Steve’s head and the little incubus drags Steve down. The kiss goes fierce very quickly after that. Tony jumps into Steve’s arms and wraps his legs around Steve’s hips. Steve lets go of everything. The glamour he managed to hold onto disappears and out comes his wings and tail and horns. His claws hold Tony up. Placed just below Tony’s glorious ass. One claw strokes the base of Tony’s tail, making Tony shudder. He knows the little incubus absolutely loves it, just as Tony knows Steve loves him stroking his horns.
This is a meal Tony has been waiting for seventy-years and Steve is very happy to provide. Luckily there’s a couch in the room they are in. Steve takes the few steps to reach it and drops them on it. Tony’s back hits the cushions as Steve pins him down. His claws make quick work of Tony’s suit. The incubus probably needs it for a meeting, but right then all that mattered is getting them naked and provide for his little incubus.
Tony makes a wounded nose when his suit is left tattered, pieces on the couch and ground. He’s left showing miles of glorious skin. Steve notes Tony has grown. Has gotten bigger. No longer is Tony the tiny, youthful and inexperienced incubus of before. No, now Tony has muscle and weight. He’s plump and shapely. It makes Steve nearly drool. He loved Tony’s appearance seventy-years ago, but now - now he’s completely smitten. The incubus is mature and muscular and everything Steve wants all in one, and he’s still completely Steve’s.
Steve doesn’t take Tony slow. No, he’s kept his little incubus waiting too long for slow and gentle on their reunion. He bites and nibbles every inch of skin given. He re-marks everything he can. He makes sure Tony’s body remembers all his touches and caresses and bruises. He goes rough. Harsh. Makes Tony cry those glorious cries Steve takes pride in hearing.
Tony moans at every touch and groans at every thrust. He never begs Steve to go slow or to stop. He feeds and he feeds and he asks for more. Steve gives it all to him. He doesn’t remember the seventy-years that passed, but his body does and it’s ready to make up for the time.
The pent up energy he carried upon waking up is released all at once. All inside his little incubus. He gives it all and makes sure not to waste a single drop. His Tony deserved him. Deserved to be fed a proper course. Deserved to taste the delicious meal Steve could only offer and time prevented.
Steve kept going and going until Tony got full and begged for him to stop. Steve did, but he never took his hands off his incubus. Steve held him tightly as he rubbed the bloated belly of his groaning Tony. He took pride in the way Tony relaxed in his hold and purred at his touches. He kissed every little sigh of discomfort.
Steve finally reunited with his little incubus and he’s not planning on disappearing ever again.
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