I HAVE A FIC IDEA Vol.10

Billionaire Tony…

Does things like:

Making smoothie for his team

Chopping wood for a teammate

Repairing a tractor for the teammate

Playing paper football

Doing dishes

Tinkering in the garage

Building a bar with his science bro

And does not know what art is

Tony, in a spider-man hoodie, spider-man fuzzy socks, and holding a spider-man mug: Peter left for college 34 days, 9 hours, and 45 minutes ago

Steve: Do you want to talk about it? I know how much you miss him—

Tony: Are you kidding I hope that idiot never comes back

Tony: Oh look now it’s 46 minutes

This does apply to them both.

He does say please, thank you and pardon a lot.

OG: https://amp.knowyourmeme.com/memes/polite-cat

rosekiller idk

Accurate

Odin: You have a sister. Her name is Hela.

Thor & Loki: what

Odin:

I'd like to think that Mobius has some pretty nice handwriting and Loki adores it.

For example, he asks Loki to look over his notes for a case to either catch him up or is just in need of a second pair of eyes. Loki tries to read it but is honestly distracted by the simple yet elegant swoop and swirl of each letter. Instead of actually reading the notes he finds himself staring, scanning over every word and every letter- intricate yet carefree.

'Beautiful as though it was poetry in itself, a unity of sorts,' Loki thinks to himself.

"So what do you think? " Mobius drags him back to reality and Loki gets flustered not realizing what he's been doing until he's been doing it for too long.

"Oh- yes quite right, it looks fine." He hands back the notes hastily, overcome with feeling warm he avoids looking at Mobius. "I'm going to check on another file," he says leaving Mobius at their table confused beyond all measure.

The Ice - Aftermath

(The Ice - Here)

The cold still clung to him as he stepped through the portal and into his bedroom in the sanctum. The warmth of his room felt like an assault on his senses. His hands tingled painfully a little at the sharp, sudden change in temperature.

The cloak flared off his shoulders, slipping off into a corner to settle onto the chair that rested there.

Movement caught his attention in the peripheral of his vision. He turned to see Tony setting his tablet aside and sliding out of their bed. He was dressed in sleep clothes. Stephen blinked and glanced at the time. It had been getting dark when he’d left Nebraska, with the timezone difference it was starting to get late here. But not so late that Tony—who was the definition of a night owl—would be in bed.

“How are you?” Tony asked quietly as he moved closer. His gaze searched Stephen’s face, and Stephen knew that the weight of everything from today was clear and visible to Tony’s too perceptive gaze.

Stephen wasn’t sure if Wong had told Tony what had happened. Because it had to have been Wong who had given Tony the all clear to return to the sanctum after Stephen had sent Tony away.

“I’m… better.” It was true.

Tony nodded. “You look cold,” Tony said, not pursuing the topic. Yet. “Let’s get you into something warmer.”

Stephen didn’t exactly need help changing, but Tony’s hands were warm on his skin as he helped him undress. There was nothing sexual about the moment, just simple love and affection in every trace of touch. Stephen slid into his own sleep clothes, despite the fact that it was too early for bed.

“I’m not ready for sleep,” Stephen warned Tony.

“I know,” Tony said, his expression was soft. “But I wanted you comfortable. We’re going to read, together. Something light and simple, I’ve pulled up a list. Then we’re going to cuddle and if you want to and are ready, you’re going to tell me what nightmare sent you back home.” Tony pressed his hand over Stephen’s heart. “And I’ll listen. Then we can decide whether we’re going to sleep tonight or if we’re going to get dressed again and go for a walk in the middle of the night.”

Some part of Stephen already knew they were going to end up on that midnight walk. There was something about walking hand in hand with Tony through mostly abandoned streets as they talked about everything and nothing, the strain of long days eased away in the light of the moon and intermittent street lights.

Even when they were silent, it was… it was good.

“All right,” Stephen agreed. “What are we reading?”

“You choose,” Tony said. He returned to the bed where he’d left his starkpad and started going through the list. 

Stephen chose a book of poems and settled onto the bed, back against the headboard as Tony started reading aloud. His voice was soothing, and the words took on a rhythmic cadence. Stephen closed his eyes as Tony started on a poem about new beginnings and let the words carry him into a meditative state.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he opened his eyes again. “I’m ready to cuddle, now,” he told Tony as Tony finished another poem, this one about the different firsts of life.

Tony immediately put the tablet to the side, slipping closer to him.

They got comfortable together, Stephen holding Tony tight against him. It always helped to hold Tony, to feel like Tony was safe in his arms where Stephen could protect him. Even if Tony was perfectly capable of protecting himself.

Sometimes Stephen wondered if that was something that lingered from Donna, Stephen’s need to feel like he could protect those he loved when he’d failed to protect her. Or perhaps he’d always have been this way.

The lights dimmed, but didn’t go out. Not when Stephen didn’t want to actually sleep, just wanted to hold Tony close. 

“I’ve told you about Donna,” Stephen said.

“I remember,” Tony said quietly.

Stephen took a deep breath. “I… When I told you to stay at the compound for a few nights, it was because there was a problem with the nightmare realm. It… well, I dreamt of Donna.” He took a deep breath. “I… I’d prepared myself for the accident, for Dormammu, for Thanos. I thought I knew exactly what would plague me. It… it caught me off guard. I wasn’t prepared.” He took a breath. “She… she blamed me.”

Tony didn’t say anything, not immediately. Instead, Tony’s fingers tangled with Stephen’s, tugging Stephen’s arm that rested over Tony’s hips up to his mouth to press a kiss against Stephen’s fingers. “She didn’t,” Tony said quietly. “You know she never would have.”

Stephen thought of his moment on the ice, the quiet there was never anything to forgive, the quiet I love you.

“I know,” he admitted. The words caught in his throat, because it was true, but it had been so long that he’d held onto that guilt that it was difficult to let go. “But I needed to go back. I needed… I needed to say goodbye.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

There was a moment’s pause. “Did it help?”

Stephen swallowed hard. “Yes.” He took a deep breath. There was a part of him that felt like it must be some sort of betrayal to find any sort of peace. But Donna would never have blamed him for it. “It did.”

“It’s what she would want. She’d be happy for you.”

Stephen closed his eyes, pictured Donna again. There was never anything to forgive. I love you. Thought of all of the things in his life that he had finally gotten right. Thought of all those things that he thought Donna would have been proud of.

He held on to the thought tightly and let himself believe.

Sam: Shut up.

Bucky: No, you shut up.

Sam: I said that first.

Bucky: Make me then?

Sam: Oh, I will.

Sam: But you might moan a little.