🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

Reunion

Angst, Gen, 207w

The shack is filled with them — they eat at the walls, at the torn curtains' points — the shadows. The bed they once rested in as a pack? It's just as dark and even damper than Sirius remembered. The cloth of the sheets seems brittle enough that it would turn to dust if he so much as brushed it, much like the shreds of prison robes he's clad in.

Nothing but darkness around him as he waits.

Sirius waits for days, for weeks. The only way he knows of the time passing is the magical hourglass on the mantelpiece of the dead chimney keeps turning on its axis, unperturbed.

The shadows are still there, clingy, painful, when Remus finally shows up. There is darkness in and under his eyes, and silver in his hair. There is darkness even in the paleness of his blue eyes, but Sirius sees the shadows part, however briefly, the moment their gazes meet again.

Thirteen years of freezing cold and death. Thirteen years of playing with the edges of sanity trying to survive, all for this moment. All for the ray of sunshine, so foreign, that illuminates his dried heart when Remus's eyes find his, his voice a whisper as he sobs, "Sirius."

For my @mcukinkbingo card, square: Metal Kink. Steve/Tony, Explicit, Tags: Established Relationship, Kink discovery, Metal Kink, Suit Kink, Sparring, Bottom Steve, Dirty Talk

xxxx

It's not so much the blasts Tony can shoot with it. Not so much the way it hugs his body more and more version after version. The way Mark 48 glides until it covers Tony from head-to-toe in an admittedly brain-melting way. It's not that.

It's the reversal. Or the idea of it. It's the way he made it himself. It's the way Tony's arms look like when he's been working for so long in the workshop and everything around him smells of hard work and more importantly, what makes Steve tick the most, metal.

It's the power within and the idea of it. It's the look Tony gives him the first time they spar and he wears it. Evens things out a bit. Balances the strength in the room for once, because Tony may have not been too bad at fist-fighting his way out of bars once upon a time, the matter remains, Steve craves the way it feels the first time he ends up pinned under Tony's hands, under his metal clad hands.

It's painful, the way he squeezes. It's beautiful.

"You liked that, didn't you?"

Fluff fill for: Fluff: Fake Relationship for @stevetonygames

Extras: Canon Ref: It wasn't worth it, Canon Ref: Fall Backwards I'll Catch You, Canon Ref: I remember, Tropes: Wings

Universe: AVAC

xxxx

"What are you doing?" Tony hissed, keeping his lips in a thin line so the teacher wouldn't see them. Shit. Shit, but Steve's hand, right there… fuck. "Steve!" 

Steve just blinked at him, looking as innocent as ever as he kept his wings just as still, and his hand stayed on Tony's thigh… dangerously close to indecency. 

"I don't want to fake it anymore," Steve whispered after more agonizing seconds. "I don't want to tell our friends we're only doing this for your dad's sake, Tony." 

"You don't?" Tony asked, his own hands clutching his pen and paper on their shared desk. He couldn't look at him now, couldn't or his wings would give them both away to both teacher and classmates — the idea that Steve wanted to stop whatever they were doing had a chill going down his spine… he couldn't lose him. Not now. Not now that he'd let himself catch feelings for the other boy. 

"No, it wasn't worth it, Tones," Steve whispered again, and when Tony tried to pull away, from the pain of hearing the words, from the need to hide from said pain, and from Steve, Steve tightened his hold on his leg. "I was so afraid of telling you, so afraid you'd tell me that you couldn't, that you wouldn't love me that I said yes, but Tony…"

"Yes?" Tony finally met Steve's eyes, "Tony what?" 

"That day we played Fly Backwards I'll Catch You, remember?" 

"Yeah," Tony bit his lip not quite sure where Steve was going with that, "I remember that, of course I do. What about it?" 

"That's the day I realized I love you and you do, too, love me." 

Tony blinked. There was no keeping his wings from fluttering like mad at that now. Way to choose your moment, Tony thought, grinning, but he nodded anyway. 

"I do, yeah. So fucking much it hurts." 

"So, what do you say," Steve squeezed his knee under the table, "wanna be not-fake boyfriends now?"

Fluff fill for: Angst: Time Loop for @stevetonygames

Warning: Near-Death Experience 

Extras: Canon Ref: You Gave Me A Home, Canon Ref: I remember, Canon Ref: Please tell me nobody kissed me, Canon Ref: Stark Men are Made of Iron, Fic: Non-Linear

Universe: Avengers Assemble

xxxx

The room spins, the wall is hard against Tony's back. Cold, it's cold, but he isn't. He's sweating. 

"Please Tell Me Nobody Kissed Me", someone says in his mind, someone who sounds just like him. He closes his eyes as he passes out on the floor. 

"Please Tell Me Nobody Kissed Me", the voice says again and again and again as he wakes up, on a loop. It does sound like him, and the more Tony tries to think about it, the more he remembers. The walls of his mind so thick and opaque over the last few weeks, impossible to get through or so it seemed, are clearing a path. A path that leads to more voices, more words, more memories. 

"You Gave Me a Home, Tony," another voice says, he knows that one, would know it anywhere. It's Steve's. Steve who's watched him day after day, with a light in his eyes that was both profound pain and deep hope, that this time would be it, that Tony would free them from the loop, that he'd remember. 

"Stark Men Are Made of Iron, my son." This time, when Tony awakes, the voice that keeps him from falling back into the loop is his father's, he's pretty sure. He blinks hard, the word seemed to pull on something painful inside him, but then another image slams down on him. 

Steve on his knees, in front of him, begging him to remember. 

Steve, who is looking at him right now, his big blue eyes open and yet defeated, until Tony grins at him — probably a little deliriously — and whispers, "I remember." 

That night, when they do fall asleep, it's with Steve's arms around Tony's waist, kissing his neck and shoulders and cheeks, and because they are truly exhausted, not because the loop pulls the rug under their feet once more. It's all over, thank God, and Tony burrows further into Steve's embrace, he remembers now. 

Fluff fill for: Angst: Mind Control for @stevetonygames

Warning: TOOTH-ROTTING

Extras: Canon Ref: You Gave Me A Home

Universe: MCU

xxxx

"Chocolate, you, Steve Rogers need to give us chocolate." Tony said, making his voice as robotic as he could. The little giggle it pulled out of Peter certainly was worth the ridicule, and the confused look on Steve's face made it even better. "I repeat, Captain Rogers, your baking talents have been requisitioned. The young master said: chocolate. The young master shall have: chocolate." 

"The young--" Steve started, only to stop himself, his eyes widening as he took on a very serious expression. "I see, so the young master shall indeed, have his chocolate… cake?" He tried. 

Tony bit the inside of his cheeks, watching his husband look from their son on his shoulders and down to Tony himself with barely concealed amusement. Peter himself was shaking with laughter, his small hands almost painfully twisting Tony's hair as he gave him "directions". 

"Good. The young master and Dadd-e shall wait in the living room." 

And wait for their cake they did. And eat it together, Tony still speaking in as chopped a voice as he could, they did too. Because what wouldn't you do for your baby, as silly as Peter's plans may be. He was the one who truly put a sense to the word home, the one who'd really gave them a home, no matter what the adoption lady kept repeating.

"Was this humble cake to the young master's satisfaction?" Steve leaned over the coffee table, peering at Peter with mock-fear. 

"Very, much, so, sir." 

Fluff fill for: Angst: Dub/Non-con for @stevetonygames

Warning: Sex Pollen

Extras: Tropes: Aliens made them do it, Canon Ref: Fall Backwards I'll Catch You, I remember, Tropes: Soulmates, Tropes: Enemies to Lovers

Universe: 1872

xxxx

"Remember that game we used to play?" Steve asks groggily, his eyes barely open enough to recognize they are back in his apartment above his sheriff's office, his brain just on enough to know Stark is right next to him, breathing heavily and still sweating out the substance they were drugged with. 

If someone had told him he'd find aliens in the desert, that he'd find them while looking for Tony Stark after the man had once again escaped custody, that he'd find this merry group of green creatures surrounding the man he was actually looking for… well, Steve would've raised an eyebrow. And told that someone to follow him back for a night on the bench. 

But if that someone had told him he'd end up having the greatest sex of his life with that same Tony Stark because of alien pollen… well. 

He couldn't really say anything about that now though. Naked as a bird, covered in the proof of the night they'd just spent, and exhausted enough that a single sentence was hard to string together.

"Hmm," Stark groaned, twisting around to meet his eyes, "I remember. The soulmates game." He nodded, and Steve was reminded of a time where things were so much harder than they are now, even though he didn't envision his first time with the other man to he under the influence of anything but the soulbond between them. 

"Fall backwards I'll catch you." A game they used to play before life tore them apart from each other, forced them on opposite side of the law, even though they knew, this whole time, that they were meant to be together. 

Thank Heaven for celestial beings, even when they come with aphrodisiac goo. 

Fluff Fill for: Fluff: Anniversary for @stevetonygames

Extras: Tropes: Everyone is a Lesbian, Tropes: Royalty AU, Canon Ref: I remember, Tropes: Enemies to Lovers 

Universe: Domain: Rule 63

xxxx

The audience is bustling with excitement, all wearing their best gowns and jewels, lords and ladies, countesses and dukes and all of Toni and Stephanie's people for their anniversary. 

As it often is the case with royalty, the anniversary of their wedding is also that of the end of a war between their two domains. Everyone in the throne room knows it, is here to celebrate it as much as they are the fact that for once in history, a peace-keeping wedding has also led to a happy marriage, and an even happier court. 

All in sync, hands in hands and arms up towards the ceiling where the end of the war is painted, engraved for eternity, the palace chants, "I remember."

Fluff fill for: Angst: Alcoholism for @stevetonygames

Warning: Alcoholism.

Extras: Canon Ref: Please Tell Me Nobody Kissed Me, Canon Ref: I Remember, Canon Ref: Stark Men are Made of Iron, Canon Ref: It wasn't worth it, Tropes: Enemies to Lovers 

Universe: Marvel 1872

xxxx

"I wish you'd stop this, Stark, I truly do." 

"What? And vacate the drunk tank of our lord the Sheriff of Timely? Are you sure you'd rather face whoever would replace me?" 

"I'm sure it would do you good to lay off on the booze, that's what I'm sure of."

Tony grins as the Sheriff leans into the door of the cell he's once again spent the night. One would think he must hate it. One would think he'd finally take the other man's advice and be careful about his liquor intake. Nah. 

"Just, please tell me—"

"Nobody kissed you." Rogers snorts. Like he does every other day or so. 

Tony finally sits up, wincing a little bit, the headaches aren't fun but one can you do… when you go from hating the man of the local law to secretly wanting him, seeking him out, loving him. There's probably better ways to go about it, but Tony sure can't figure them out. 

"I was in there once, too, did you know that?" Rogers asks him when Tony gets up and gazes outside the barred window. 

"You were?" Tony twists around, laughter bubbling inside him at the image of his proper Sheriff sitting where a thousand drunks have sat before him. 

"Yup. Got pissed like never before. Fought a pack of rude guys over a girl. Got a split lip and a migraine for days after that." The man replies, looking sheepish as he does so, before he admits in a whisper, "It wasn't worth it." 

Tony bursts out laughing at that. Can't contain it. 

"Yeah, but you see," Tony says even though he's still wheezing for breath, "the difference between you and I is—" 

"That Stark Men are Made of Iron, I remember, Stark. No need to try and be proud of the fact that you still slept in here, again, instead of going back to your perfectly good bed." 

"How do you know my bed is perfectly good?" Tony asks, a spur of the moment thing, probably his bravest come-on thus far. It works. Rogers' cheeks flare up a deep red. 

"I…I'm, I was assuming…" the man stammers, making Tony smile that much more, and walk closer slowly. 

"Care to find out for sure?" He asks him, whispering the question like it's the greatest state secret, and, given that what he's suggesting is absolutely illegal, he figures it's needed.

Rogers blinks at him, all big blue eyes and long blonde lashes and pink cheeks and then he bites his lip, and nods.

"Well then, Sheriff," Tony straightens up, dusting his shirt and vest and marching out the door, only turning back to wink at the man before he leaves without checking if he's following, "On our way we go."