#darkkitty1208

Your writing is a gem btw! 💖

Kitty. My dearest Kitty Cat. You beautiful being. I kiss your forehead. Of course you give me such a tasty prompt ♥ I had so many ideas for this. You know I love a good 'magic caused problems' prompt. Beta by @harpywritesfic because this trio is iconic

Ko-Fi | Read it on AO3 | Word count: 0.7k

Stephen stumbled through a portal back into the Sanctum. He felt drained, as if all the strength had been sucked from his body. As he struggled to stay on his feet, he was grateful that the Cloak of Levitation took most of his weight and gently held him upright.

Even the walk towards the couch felt like a challenge, while reaching the bed in his room upstairs seemed far too ambitious for him in his exhausted state.

“Stephen? Are you all right?”

The unexpected voice cut through the haze of his fatigue, causing the sorcerer to whirl around in surprise. There stood Tony, framed in the doorway of the library, take-out bags in hand, his expression concerned. He had probably come over for one of their usual lunch date-... meetings; unfortunately, the engineer's timing was rather bad.

“I'm fine,” Stephen muttered just as a dizzy spell washed over him and the world around him began to spin. It took all his willpower to stay on his feet.

“Uh-huh, somehow I don't believe you.” Tony placed a reassuring hand on the sorcerer's back to steer him towards... somewhere. When did Tony get so close? Had Stephen briefly blacked out?

Look at it. Do you feel the urge to bend it? Doesn't it tempt you so? Do you feel the want simmer low in your gut, lurching up and threatening to swallow you up from the inside? How many hours have you spent staring at an identical spoon, wishing to feel it bend? Waiting for the twist of metal? The satisfying sound of crunching steel? Do you want that? It'd be so easy. Don't you want to do it?

Well. SHAME

NOW YOU DONT GET TO!!!

AWWW THANK YOU

(No pressure!)

Dearest Ink,

Enjoy some idiots in love, sprinkled with a bit of fluff; just the way you like it.

Let the gift-giving contest begin. I will not back the fuck down. The game is on!

- The better half of the delulu duo xx

A badly-drawn picture of two smiling stickmen holding hands is drawn beside it in crayon. The rest of the letter reads a sloppily-written story:

Stephen hums as he feels the tickle of Tony's hair swarming into his neck, the feeling of Tony's breath softly blowing against the patch of skin on his collarbone. He tries not to squirm away as Tony nuzzles the crook of his neck. 

"Mm, hey," he mumbles, voice thick with sleep. His mouth opens up in a yawn that ends with a contented sigh. 

"Hi," Tony greets back. "Go back to sleep." 

"Did you just come in?" Stephen mumbles, eyes still heavy with sleep. He attempts to open them, but only manages to do so in slits. Tony hums an affirmative answer.

"Had to go do something in the lab," he explains, "Go back to sleep." 

Stephen's lips twist, downturned, and he asks with a slight slur in his voice, "What time 's it?" 

Tony shifts up.

"It's..." He feels Tony's warmth leave him–presumably to check the time–and he almost pouts at the loss, before smiling as he feels Tony return into his embrace. "Just a little past 2." 

Stephen lets out a sleepy grunt, something that sounded like a protest. 

"C'mere," he says, tugging Tony under the blankets. Tony obliges, squirming down, and Stephen wraps his arms around the man's waist. He attaches his lips to Tony's neck, and they lay there in comfortable silence for a moment, only broken by the occasional rustle of sheets and their soft breathing. 

Stephen can feel Tony's heartbeat beating rhythmically against his own in this position, and it feels like a reassurance. That Tony is here, Tony is safe, Tony is in his arms. He feels cold, calloused fingers cradle his own trembling ones gently, and he responds in kind, tangling their fingers together. 

Stephen's never been quite a romantic, but something about the hour and the sleepy state he is in feels like a great excuse for him to be clingy. 

"Sleep," Stephen mumbles into his neck. Tony huffs out a soft chuckle.

"That's what I'm doing, Houdini." 

Stephen shakes his head, nuzzles closer into Tony's neck.

"No," he says flatly, "You're thinking. I can hear you thinking." 

"Is that a wizard thing?" Tony says, and Stephen can sense the smirk even if he can't see it. "You're not reading my mind are you?" 

Stephen just gives a whine of protest, not wanting to prolong their not-sleeping states. 

"Sleep," he repeats, "With me." 

Tony doesn't reply after that. It takes a moment, but he feels Tony gradually relax in his hold, and inevitably falls into slumber. He only lets himself sleep until he's sure that Tony is. 

YOU. screaming crying falling to the floor clawing at the walls sobbing

Shorb