#lysadoessomethingstupid

[iwritefanficsometimes]

Hung Over + The Morning After

Pre-IronMan 1 (and that one scene in Iron Man 3) Stephen and Tony meet at a New Years Eve Party.

(I was inspired by nothing in particular to do this. I like the way it turned out more than I expected to.)

——

In Tony Stark’s personal opinion, January 1st should be illegal. He’s got a terrible hang over, someone lifted his watch, and he woke up in bed next to a strange man. Okay, that part wasn’t so bad, but he was really going to hear it from PR if he got caught with a man right before a new release. Heaven forbid the press speculate about his bisexuality instead of talk about his new missile. Tony sighed and got up, hoping to sneak out before the inevitable, “oh shit you’re Tony Stark” moment or the, “oh shit I got drunk and slept with a stranger moment” or Tony’s personal least-favorite “come back to bed, baby.”

No thanks.

So Tony sneaks out of bed and redresses, having perfected his post-one night stand walk-of-shame, and rinses the taste of hangover and ass out of his mouth when the guy started waking up.

“Pay for the room on your way out, you asshole.”

Tony is caught off guard, because that’s not normal.

“I was planning on it. Maybe less-so now, since I’m such an asshole.”

“You’re the one who insisted we come here. I have student loans to worry about. I’ll give them your card number if you don’t and you’ll have to pay for it anyway.”

“That would be identity theft. Very illegal.”

“But would you prosecute me?”

Tony popped his head back into the room to look at his bedmate. “Is that something you’re willing to test?”

The guy was definitely no more than 25, 26, to Tony’s near 30. He had... interesting eyes, stone cut features, messy dark hair, a very serious expression and... well Tony can see why he said yes to him last night, even if he doesn’t entirely remember doing it.

He pulls Tony out of his reverie with “I am if you are,” and suddenly Tony remembers that he was supposed to be having a conversation. Identity theft student loans guy. He replayed the conversation in his head to catch himself up. It took longer than it should have because of the headache, and then it registered, this guy was fun.

“I’ll pay for the room if you remind me what your name is.” Tony may have gotten it the night before, he may not have. Men tended not to care as much, which suited Tony just fine, but Tony wanted to keep up with this guy.

“Stephen Strange. You should remember that.”

“Why? Have goals of stardom?”

“I’m going to be ground breaking. Fame will just be a perk.”

Tony grinned, winced, but then smiled again with his eyes closed and his temple leaned against the cool door jam. “I can admire a man with goals.”

“I’m sure you can. You admired me plenty last night.”

“Even drunk I’m a very thorough lover.” Tony pushed away from the door to rinse his mouth out one more time and fix his hair. “If nothing else the scandal of coming to my hotel room will get you some decent publicity.”

“Is this some of that all press is good press bullshit?”

Tony went back into the greater room to fish his tie out from under the bed and retie it around his neck, still too uncoordinated for comfort, but he’d sober up with hotel room coffee. It was a luxury he wasn’t going to allow himself when he had decided to sneak out, but since he’s not going to achieve that he at least wants his morning coffee.

He sets a cup to brew and then sits down on the bed to pull his shoes on. “All press is good press. You just have to know how to spin it. Most people’s memory for this stuff only lasts a couple months, and at least you got them talking about you.”

“Maybe I don’t want them talking about me. I’m not exactly out to my family.”

“Then you should have picked someone else to take home last night.” Tony ties off his shoes and then fishes out his wallet, “I’m not out myself, so we’re going to do the best to control the story. If we’re lucky you’re pretty enough that they thought you were a woman and were relatively uninterested.” He threw a business card with his personal number scribbled on the back down on the bed.

“And if we’re not lucky?” Stephen looks at the card but makes no move to take it.

“Then this is going to be the biggest thing to hit the news cycle since I went to rehab the first time and you’re gonna want to tell your parents not to touch the internet.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Trust me, I know.” He said wryly, thinking of Rhodey’s reaction when he found out through the press that Tony had to go to rehab. “Okay, listen. It was dark, we were sucking face, there’s a good chance they won’t be able to ID you. Just lay low and deny deny deny. You’ve never met me, you think I’m an insufferable asshole, you wouldn’t sleep with me if I told you I was going to forgive your student loans. Whatever you have to say. Don’t go overboard, make it believable, and I’ll do my part to keep your name out of the press.”

“I can’t believe you just said ‘sucking face.’”

Tony rolled his eyes, and ow, that was a mistake, still hung over, ow. He rubbed his forehead and got up to feel his way towards the sweet smell of coffee. “I can’t believe that was your take away.”

“What did you want me to say, thank you?”

“It would’ve been nice, but unnecessary. This is pretty standard procedure for people who aren’t using sleeping with me as free publicity. All you really had to say was ‘okay.’”

Stephen was unusually quiet while Tony nursed his coffee. He got up and got dressed without even bothering to cover up his walk of shame. Bed head and all Stephen walked to the door and paused just before opening it.

“Thank you.”

Tony is startled but recovers quickly. “You’re welcome.”

Stephen leaves before Tony’s even finished speaking, and Tony looks at the closed door. This was not the exit Tony had intended. He doesn’t think it’s the one Stephen had intended either. He makes a second cup of coffee and takes his time leaving so they won’t be seen leaving at the same time. He takes the back exit through the kitchen and calls Happy to meet him there. The hotel has his card on file and he doesn’t even stop at the front desk. He just slips into his car, sunglasses on, and tells Happy to take him back to the Tower. Why he decided to spend the New Year in New York was beyond him, but maybe it hadn’t been entirely a waste.

When he got home he set up a news alert for Stephen Strange and went back to bed.

And suddenly he remembers... he forgot to check if the guy took his card. He groaned and covered his head with more covers.

January 1st should be illegal.

(AO3)

Prompt Me!

[iwritefanficsometimes]

The Wink

So I’m over here trying to write a serial killer Stephen fic, so this is another short one.

-----

Tony doesn’t really have time to process the wink in the hours before half the world disintegrates. He pulls a face because he can’t believe a wizard had the audacity to wink at him, but then he moves on, because there are aliens, and all of Tony’s biggest fears are coming true, and it’s not the time for wizard winks.

Once the kid is dead, and Strange and nearly everyone else on Titan is dead, Tony can barely think about anything, let alone the stupid wizard’s wink. They have to get back to earth, but Tony isn’t sure they’ll make it. He loses himself in a spiral of despair, wondering if Pepper is still alive, Rhodey, Happy, Steve, fucking Steve. He hopes that self-righteous asshole is alive, because at least he’ll probably be doing something. Tony chased a donut into space to save a wizard’s magic necklace and failed. He left earth undefended. He left for no reason. Maybe if he hadn’t been there Strange wouldn’t have given up the stone, maybe Peter would still be alive. At least Tony would be on earth and not floating around in the empty nothing of space hoping to find earth on no fuel and no food or water to speak of.

Tony thinks Pepper would have liked Strange, stupid wizard wink included. He was a weird dude, sure, but he had a lot of wit. He was quick to fire back in a way Pepper just didn’t, and Tony loved Pepper, loves Pepper (she has to be alive), but Stephen was just different. In the darkest corner of his mind he imagines bringing a wizard home to his fiance and telling her that he wasn’t a poly relationship now. Somewhere deep inside he thinks maybe Pepper would be cool with it. She’d whip the winking wizard into shape at least, same way she (kind of) had Tony. The three of them would have been good together, in a weird complimentary way. With Pepper’s business mind, Tony’s mechanical bend and Stephen’s magic they could probably have covered any kind of possible emergency between the three of them. That thought makes Tony smile, but it’s so grim that it feels more like a silent sob.

He contemplates the wink in his darkest, most disconnected moments, when he just can’t bear to think about how much he’s failed or how much he’s lost anymore. Tony has dated people for doing a whole lot less than winking at him.

“Tony Stark.” A female voice calls over the alien radio that’s been dead for days but is now somehow magically working. “Tony Stark, if you’re alive please respond.”

Tony scrambles for the communication, using what strength he has to go as quickly as he can manage. “I’m here. It’s Tony Stark. Who is this?”

“I’m… a friend. Nick Fury sent me. Requesting permission to board.”

“Permission granted, but we aren’t exactly fit to receive company.” The air was really getting too thin for any more people.

“I may have something for that. Is it just you there?”

Tony’s chest aches, because it shouldn’t be. It shouldn’t be just him and a weird blue woman, but it is. It’s just the two of them on this hell ship cum gravesite, and it hurts to think about all the people missing. About a spider boy and a wizard who should be there.

“Just me and one passenger.”

“Alright. Boarding now.”

And once again Tony has to push aside the wink, the wizard, the squashed potential and the lost kid. He puts it all aside because if Nick Fury sent this woman she was going to get him back to earth, and once he got to earth he had some goddamn Avenging to do. The wink would just have to wait.

[iwritefanficsometimes]

Hi, could you do a high school ironstrange pleas ☺️♥️ I love your writing.

(I just watched Love, Simon so I’m in the mood for a high school AU with a happy ending. AO3)

Tony Stark and Stephen Strange hate each other. They’re relative geniuses and within their respective friend groups each holds the title of “insufferable asshole we don’t know why we hang out with.” Tony laughs it off and Stephen glares like that will make them stop saying it. It doesn’t. Tony and his crowd are the populars, though whether that’s because of Tony specifically or them as a group is yet to be seen. Stephen and his friends were well liked in their own right, minus Stephen, and ended up at all the same parties Tony and his friends did, but their groups weren’t friends with each other. Not for lack of trying, of course. No, they didn’t hang out because Stephen and Tony each threw raging fits when it happened.

When Pepper and Christine for lunch, their phones blew up with messages in the same thirty seconds. Pepper’s phone blew up literally a few minutes later, an action for which Tony had to do a lot of explaining. He was forced to remove the explosive devices he’d placed it Clint, Steve, Rhodey and Natasha’s phones. Of course, Stephen, Bruce, Thor, Jane and Billy all heard about it from Christine, who was more shocked than she had any right to be.

“It’s Tony Stark, Christine, they guy could blow up a wet piece of paper.” Stephen had sneered.

“Anyone could blow up a wet piece of paper if they strapped it to a bomb.” Thor said, always taking pleasure in undermining Stephen. It reminded him of the way he used to tease his adoptive brother Loki before he ran away.

“The point is, he would think to do that.” Stephen glared at Thor and Thor nodded sagely, barely hiding his amusement. “He’s a total nut job and someone should lock him up.”

“Funny,” Bruce says from where he’s sitting beside Thor. “He says the same thing about you.”

Stephen glares and Bruce just shrugs. Thor takes the glare much more seriously and leans closer to Bruce while glaring right back at Stephen. That protective streak he had seemed to be skewing in Bruce’s direction more often than not lately.

“He would. He’s threatened by my genius.”

Christine rolled her eyes and threw a perfectly good french fry at him, but it had to be done. “You two just need to get together already. I don’t care if it’s to hook up or get married and have one point seven children, but you guys seriously just need to work something out.”

“Oh please, like I’d ever stoop that low. I’m gay, not desperate.”

“Desperate isn’t really the word I would have used.” Bruce came to his defense. Then the rest of the table got involved, like they had any right to be discussing his private life.

“Testy,” Jane supplied, followed by Thor’s, “horny,” and Christine’s, “that all sounds like desperate to me.”

Stephen sighed and blew a strand of hair out of his eyes. “I’m not desperate for anything. I’d eat my shoe before I’d go on a date with Tony Stark.”“I can arrange that,” Jane smiled, “Besides, no one said anything about dates. Oooo, Stephen has a crush.”

“Whatever,” Stephen rolled his eyes. “You are all unhelpful. I’m leaving.”

“To go find Tony and make raucous love to him?” Thor asked, throwing his arm around Bruce and shaking him with his laughter. Bruce started laughing too, but he only had eyes for Thor.

“To get away from you idiots. Why am I friends with you?”

“We ask ourselves the same question everyday, Stephen,” Christine tells him with a smile that’s too sweet.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too. You should really think about doing something about that massive heart on you have for Tony.”

“Oh, haha, you’re so witty.” Stephen sneers at her and she just keeps smiling.

“Who’s got a heart on for me?” Tony Stark of all people asks as he’s walking by. “I can’t help but interrupt when I hear my name. It’s part self-defense and part narcissism.”

“Speak of the devil.” Stephen muttered under his breath. “My friends are all obsessed with you, why don’t you chat about that while I go anywhere else.”

“Oh, come on Stephen, don’t be mad. We love you.” Jane called as Stephen walked away, always the quickest to try to smooth things over.

He waved without looking back at them, a universal sign for exactly how done he was with them.

“What’s his problem?” Tony asked Christine, and Christine smiled.

“You.”

Tony tilted his head curiously and then looked back after Stephen. “Really?” he licked his lips just a little as he watched Stephen’s retreat. “Do tell.” He sat down in Stephen’s recently vacated spot.

“He hates you.” Thor tells him cheerily, and Jane nods her affirmation.

“That’s what he says anyway. Bruce says you hate him too.”

“Well sure, the guy’s a total asshole. What’s this about me being his problem though?”

“If you’re only asking so you can use it against him-” Christine started, but Tony waved away her concern.

“Relax, I draw the line at tugging on people’s heart strings, even I’m not that much of an asshole. Does he like me?”

“If I answer that will you promise never to blow up anyone else’s phones because you’re jealous they’re stealing your friends.” Christine raised an eyebrow, narrowing her eyes in scrutiny.

“Hand to Thor, I won’t. Spill.”

Jane squealed and hit Thor in the arm. “Oh my god we’re finally getting them together.”

“Hey, no one said anything about together. I just want to know what the deal is. I’m not admitting to anything.”

“Asking was as good as admitting.” Christine rolled her eyes. “Alright, here’s the deal.”

——

Stephen was shoving books into his locker when Tony fucking Stark of all people showed up, again, and just had to make his presence known.

“Hey Stephen.” Tony grinned, closing Stephen’s locker as soon as he was done putting books in. “I hear from nowhere in particular that you don’t have a date to homecoming yet.”

“Oh I wonder where you heard that.” Stephen rolled his eyes and the venom practically dripped from his words. His friends were dead to him. He’d have to find new ones. Maybe live as a hermit without friends for the rest of his miserable existence.

“Well, I heard it from that cute girl who apparently lives under a rock. She was just heartbroken that you turned her down. Anyway. Will you go to homecoming with me?”

“And why the hell would I want to do that?” Stephen asked, trying to evade Tony by walking in the direction opposite Tony’s next class, nevermind how he knew where Tony’s next class was.

“Well, because you’re hot. I’m hot. We’d be a really hot couple, and I’m super easy so if you’re just in it for sex, I’m your guy. So, what do you say? Homecoming?”

Stephen stopped, looked at Tony, and then continued walking again, shaking his head.

“Do you really think I’m in it just for sex?”

“I don’t know, it’s what like,” Tony takes a second and Stephen’s pretty sure he’s doing actual math when he finally says, “sixty two percent of people are in for. Statistically, it’s probable.”

“But you can’t apply statistics like that in this situation.”

“Sure I can. I didn’t say what you would do, just what you’d probably do, and either way I’m good. So don’t make me ask again, I hate to come off as needy.” Tony grinned and then pulled a red rose out from his backpack. “Can a guy get an answer, Stephen?”

Stephen looked at the rose and then at Tony.

“Have you been carrying that around all day?”

“I swiped it off Vice Principal Hill’s desk. She had twelve, she’ll never notice one missing.”

Stephen rolled his eyes and then looked back at the flower. “I’m saying yes but you can keep your pilfered flower. I’m not taking the fall for your crimes.”

“Awesome!” Tony grinned tossing the flower over his shoulder and taking a step closer to Stephen. “So, can I pick you up at seven?”

“Seven thirty, if you’re as insufferable on a date as you are right now I’d like to spend less time with you, not more.”

Tony studied Stephen’s face and licked his lips then nodded. “It’s a deal. Seven thirty.” Tony started to leave, riding the high of a mission complete.

“And don’t wear something obnoxious!” Stephen calls after him, and Tony just smiles over his shoulder.

Tony shows up in a gold tux and a bright red undershirt. Stephen refuses to be seen with him in public. Tony cackles and then suggests they spend the night in. Stephen says yes.

They show up to school together the next Monday, and Tony gives Stephen a kiss on the cheek before heading to class.

Jane squeals.

Prompt Me!

[iwritefanficsometimes]

Eglantine - I wound to heal

Prompt: Hanahaki Disease, except there’s no happy ending.

(You all deserve better, but I’m not the one who can give that to you. This is all I have.)

(PS: Eglantine is a really cute flower and in flower language according to some website it means “I wound to heal.” So very on brand for this fic.)

——

Hanahaki disease is a usually fatal diagnosis in which the person grows flowers for their unrequited love in their chest. These flowers, if not removed by reciprocation of said love or surgery, will eventually kill the affected person. The surgery is usually effective, but it is rarely undertaken as it has a side effect of removing the ability of the previously diseased person to love romantically, familially and platonically. The decision to live without love after Hanahaki disease is a difficult one, but support groups exist for survivors. To find groups in your area…

Stephen throws the pastel pamphlet down onto the library table and is immediately seized by another coughing fit. Wong stands and reaches for Stephen, but Stephen pushes him away pointing to the pamphlet with one shaking hand while the other tries to cover his mouth and catch the beginnings of tiny purple petals dislodged by his cough.

Wong looks uncertainly at Stephen, obviously wanting to be of some help, but he follows Stephen’s instructions and picks up the pamphlet, his eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

“What is this? Hanahaki disease? Stephen-” The coughing fit finally ends and Stephen produces a handful of purple lilac petals, mixed with new yellow petals that he hadn’t been coughing up that morning.

“I’m sick, Wong. I need you to find someone to fill in for you for a couple of days.”

Wong just stares at the petals in Stephen’s hands, seeing but not understanding how his friend who seemed so indifferent could be afflicted with the love disease of all things. He looks back down at the pamphlet, aptly titled, “The Choice to Have Surgery” and then back at the hopeless petals, still free of blood.

“It’s not too late, not if I get it taken care of now.” Stephen is panting, out of breath from his coughing fit, and Wong offers him a chair. Stephen collapses into it gratefully, locking the door to the library magically so they aren’t disturbed. “We just lost the Ancient One, I can’t afford to die.”

“You know the consequences?” Wong asks, watching the discarded petals fall into the trashcan by his desk while Stephen resolutely doesn’t look at them.

“I do. Better Loveless than dead.”

“Have you explored every other option?” Wong raises an eyebrow at him and Stephen rolls his eyes.

“There are no other options Wong. I need someone to be there while the perform the surgery in case of complications, and Christine can’t know. Please.” The platitude is so uncharacteristic that Wong makes up his mind to help without even considering it. Stephen is doing his best to look determined but Wong can read the fear in his eyes.

“I will find someone to attend to the library. Schedule the operation.”

Stephen nodded, slumping even further in his chair. Wong expected Stephen to leave now that he had what he wanted, but Stephen just closes his eyes, forcing his breathing to even out. The last time Stephen looked this ragged was when he was just coming to Kamar Taj. It was a sad sight to see.

“If you wish to talk, I will be here.”

Stephen smiles but doesn’t open his eyes. “Thank you, Wong.”

----

He schedules the removal for a boring nothing sort of Thursday, and he tries not to criticize the doctors operating on him too much. He can’t help but offer commentary as they prep him for surgery until they put him under. He knows they must be glad to anaesthetize him.

He wakes up and he doesn’t really feel any different. Wong is seated beside his hospital bed, and he’s apparently been awake several times already, but can’t remember it. Stephen checks to make sure he can still use his magic and move his limbs before he asks Wong what the doctors said.

“They said it was successful, you may still have a few petals, but they should pass once you’ve finished healing.” Wong’s eyes are sympathetic and Stephen can’t find it in him to care.

“Good. Thank you. You can leave now if you want to.” Stephen doesn’t have any more immediate need for Wong, and he’s needed to fulfill his post at the library.

“Are you sure? I can stay a little longer.” There’s a searching in Wong’s eyes, and whatever he’s looking for he must come up empty, because he frowns. Maybe he sees the Lovelessness in Stephen.

“I’m sure. Go back to Kamar Taj.” He smiles, because it will placate the man, and Wong nods then gets up to leave.

Stephen watches him leave and feels a subtle twinge of emptiness. An absence of platonic love, maybe. It was strange to think he could feel that way towards Wong and never notice it, but he hadn’t noticed that he loved Tony Stark until he started coughing up lilacs. Maybe Stephen didn’t know himself as well as he liked to think he did. Well, at least now there were fewer things to know.

——

Stephen hasn’t even been in recovery for twelve hours when a jaunty spider child knocks on the window his hospital room and lets himself in. “Hiya Doctor Strange! Mr. Stark said that his weird keep-track-of-people algorithm saw you had been checked into a hospital and he wanted me to check on you.” He closes the window behind him and then checks that the room is clear before removing his mask and taking out his hoodie and track pants from his bag to redress. “Everything okay?” The kid doesn’t look worried, which meant Tony had probably told him not to worry, which meant Tony had probably hacked into his hospital records. What an asshole.

“I’m alright, Peter, just some minor elective surgery. Everything went well and they’re releasing me in the morning.”

“Elective surgery?” The boy asks, taking the chair Wong had vacated twelve hours previous. “What for? Did you get your appendix removed?” He tilts his head like he’s trying to think of what other kinds of elective surgery Stephen might have.

Stephen feels that pang of emptiness again, the empty space where love used to be for a child he watches die a too many deaths.

“It’s really not any of your business Peter.” He smiles, because it’s important to keep up appearances now that he’s Loveless, and Peter seems to believe him, because he just smiles back.

“Mr. Stark said you’d say that, but that I should be persistent. So… do you wanna tell me now?” Peter’s face is bright and wide open, knitted together by a thousand watt smile and persistence. It’s kind of nice to see, though it doesn’t draw up the same feelings of warmth that it once did.

“No, I don’t, because it’s still not any of your business.” He props himself up a little farther in the hospital bed so maybe the kid will take him seriously. “Tell Tony that he needs to stop sending his ward to spy on me.”

“I’m not his ward.” Peter wrinkled his eyebrows and Stephen laughs, not unkindly, at the disgruntled face.

“Go, Peter, I’m fine. Besides, it’s a school night.”

Now Peter’s forehead crumples as his eyes narrow beneath furrowed brows. “It’s Friday, Mr. Strange.”

“It’s very late Thursday night. Go. I’m sure your aunt is worried about you.”

Peter tries to stifle a yawn that only proved Stephen’s point while he shakes his head. “She doesn’t even know I’m gone. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me?”

“I’m sure. Go home.”

Peter purses his lips but eventually conceded. “Alright. Well, get well soon Doctor Strange.” He turns to climb out the window and then stops, “oh wait!” He slings his backpack down into the chair he’s been using and rifles through it for a tiny, bright pink, stuffed bear. “That’s from Mr. Stark.” He sets the bear down on the side table. “He says it’s a get well present.” He nods like his business is done and then turns to leave again. “Bye for real Doctor Strange.” He climbs out the window and closes it behind him, turning back to wave before he swings away on webs of his own design.

Stephen smiles, amused Peter’s antics, and then reaches for the bear. “Get well soon, huh?” He raises an eyebrow at the glassy eyes and looks straight into them while he speaks. “Doesn’t Pepper have some kind of understanding with you about boundaries?”

Stephen’s phone rings on the bedside table and he knows that this is the true test. If the surgery was successful then when Tony talks to him he’ll be entirely unaffected. Even now thinking about Tony leaves an empty ache that the doctors promised would dissipate as he healed, just like the last of the petals.

He makes an inquisitive face at the bear when he sees the caller ID is Stark.

“You sent a child with a bear to spy on me, don’t you have any shame?” Stephen laughs, but it’s not tinged with the vibrant sadness that it used to be. He’s laughing more at the ridiculous situation than at Tony doing it.

“Yes, but I refuse to acknowledge it. Look, you took yourself off the roster for the week and then I found out you were having surgery? I was worried.”

“Needlessly. It was an elective surgery, totally safe. I’m fine.” He set the beat back down on the night table, pointing it’s camera eyes toward the window like a little pink guard bear.

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”

“You say that like you didn’t hack into the hospital records to find out exactly what I had done.”

“Haha! I didn’t!” Tony sounds too proud of himself for doing something that should really be considered common decency.

“I’m actually surprised by that.” Pleasantly surprised now that there was no need to explain to his married unrequited love that he’d had a surgery to end his Hanahaki disease. Tony would just blame himself, like he had any control of Stephen’s feelings.

“Well, I’m full of surprises. We still on for lunch, Saturday? Pepper is really excited about being able to go to Paris for lunch without increasing her carbon footprint.”

“Sure. I should be discharged by tomorrow.”

“Great! See you then, Gandalf.”

Tony hung up before Stephen could get in a retort. He snorted and then set his phone down on the table by the bear. He could feel a hollow space in his chest where his love for Tony used to be, this one a more painful ache than the two he’s felt before it. Like the feeling of having air caught somewhere it shouldn’t be an a stabbing ache. Coupled with the return of feeling to the place where they’d opened his chest cavity to remove the deadly flowers, Stephen felt horrible, but at least now he wasn’t going to die. That was the important thing. He couldn’t afford to leave the world unprotected. Earth wasn’t prepared for a world without Stephen Strange, but it wouldn’t miss Stephen Strange’s capacity to love.

And neither would Stephen.

[iwritefanficsometimes]

Sock Thief

Anonymous: Can I ask for 9 of the fluff list please? :3

(Tony is a tiny clothes thief and you can’t convince me otherwise. This one got lost, but I didn’t forget about you anon. :)

——

“oh, you’ve started stealing my socks now?”

Tony pretends like he doesn’t hear Stephen as he plops himself down on the couch and props his feet up on Stephen’s lap. It’s not the first time they’ve had a conversation about Tony’s clothes stealing tendencies. And by conversation of course he meant Stephen talked at him about the clothes stealing and Tony ignored it. This method had a 100% success rate and he saw no reason to fix what wasn’t broken.

Stephen sighs and settles his forearm across Tony’s socked ankles, continuing to read his book. Point: Tony.

“You know, you could just buy your own clothes that are like my clothes. You don’t have to rummage through my half of the closet.” Stephen pretends like he’s equally disinterested as he reads his book, but Tony know better. He doesn’t speak and continues working on his tablet. He’s using the one without the holo screen, because it gave Stephen headaches and Tony was a considerate boyfriend. His consideration for Stephen’s wellbeing should give him more than enough right to steal his clothes.

Stephen waits a minute but when it becomes obvious Tony has nothing to say to this he continues, “Are you wearing anything that isn’t mine?”

Tony wiggles his socked toes like he’s thinking it over, but he knows the answer without even thinking about it. Tony had started stealing Stephen’s shirts back when they started sleeping together. Not the wizard shirts, the normal soft tee-shirts that were obviously too big for Tony. The sweat pants he’d gone after once they moved in together. Three months later here Tony was, sitting in his boxer-briefs and Stephen’s everything else, and he wasn’t even a little bit sorry. In the end Tony decides not to answer, because not talking about it has a 100% success rate and only ends in Stephen’s fond exasperation, which leads to couch cuddles, which Tony likes.

Stephen sighs and actually goes back to reading, and they sit like that, Stephen practicing whatever magical thing he’s working on on occasion while Tony occasionally makes happy excited noises as something comes together the way he wants it or a new idea comes to him. When Tony’s phone rings it startles him, but he transfers the call to his tablet and puts it on speaker, since it’s just Peter.

“Heya, Pete, you get yourself into any more trouble?” Tony asks as he continues to design of course he knows he hasn’t, Tony has alerts set up for those sorts of things, but asking gives the kid the satisfaction of answering in the negative.

“No, Mr. Stark, I just wanted to know if you were free sometime in the next week. I’d really like your opinion on something.”

“You know I can always make time for you, Peter, how about…” Tony pulls of his schedule and then inserts Peter’s over it see when they have free time that overlaps. He has an empty space right before his date with Stephen on Friday, but he usually uses that to get ready, and the kid may have plans. “How about next Monday after school. I’ll send Happy to pick you up.”

“Oh no, that’s okay, Mr. Stark, I can get there-“

“I’ll see you then.” Tony hangs up, because he doesn’t need to listen to Peter’s protests. Of course he’ll have a driver pick him up. That’s nonsense.

“You know that’s rude, right?”

“You know I don’t care, right?”

“Oh, so now you’re speaking to me.” Stephen’s voice is cold, but Tony can hear the faintest trace or amusement in his voice.

“Of course I’m speaking to you, darling. What are we doing for dinner?”

Stephen gives Tony his favorite exasperatedly fond sigh and pushes Tony’s tablet closer to him. “Since you’re a sock theif, I want Thai. No buts.”

Tony sits up and leans towards Stephen to plant an obnoxious kiss on his cheek. “Anything for you honey.”

“Except clothing boundaries.”

Tony ignored this and put in an order to their favorite Thai place to be delivered in 30 minutes or less for an exorbitant tip.

He wiggles his toes in Stephen’s warm socks and went back to designing. Where Tony’s socks were all thin and colorful Stephen’s were all neutral colors, and so so so soft. They’re Tony’s new favorite things about Stephen. Just like his sweatpants and tee-shirts before them. Tony has his sights set on Stephen’s hoodies next.

(AO3)

Prompt Me!

[iwritefanficsometimes]

For WinterIron: When Tony finds Out Bucky can cook he is surprised. He get's James to cook from him (not that this is difficult since Bucky wants Tony to eat more anyway) and is fascinated. Like Bucky likes to watch Tony in the workshop sometimes, when the mechanic is in his element, Tony develops a habit of watching Bucky in the kitchen. 🙈🙊

AO3 Link - For formatting reason I highly recommend reading on AO3

(Soooo,,, I’m a sucker for dual personality Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier and I can’t personally imagine Bucky not being personally involved in tech and wanting to get hands on with everything, but I can definitely imagine Soldier paying a lot of attention to Tony. And then this happened. I hope you still like it! PS. I am a vegan and I wrote some of this stuff while gagging, so… that’s it, I just wanted to share that. PPS. I copy pasted this from a Google Doc so I had to add back in some formatting things. Let me know if there are still issues)

Bucky didn’t tell people that Winter was still there. He was cold, calculating, violent, in ways that would have made the Avengers, and the public, wary. It was a decision they made together, like they make most major decisions since Bucky started coming back to himself when they were sent after Steve. It was a hard won truce between the two of them, but fighting amongst themselves left them vulnerable, and neither of them wanted that. They couldn’t afford to be vulnerable. They were stronger working together to keep their independence than they were working against each other for control. So they came to this tentative compromise

They told Bucky’s therapist, now their therapist, Dr. Koning. She was a nice woman and she burned all her session notes right in front of Bucky once the session was done, so he trusted her. Winter was wary, after the incident with the not-therapist pulling him to the surface and taking control of him again, but with time he became used to the idea of spending time with this woman to help them heal. She was a good mediator.

“Have you ever considered finding your own interests, Winter?”

The question caught both Bucky and Winter off guard. Bucky because they’d just been talking about his interests, and Winter because he hadn’t been paying attention, since they’d been talking about Bucky.

“What?” Bucky asked, mimicking Winter’s confusion.

“I asked if Winter had ever considered finding his own interests, separate from yours.”

“We have the same interests,” Bucky told her, and Winter had to agree. Sure, there were some things Bucky did that Winter found boring, like spending time with Steve, but the things that Winter enjoyed Bucky also enjoyed, and got to do vicariously through him when he wasn’t “fronting,” one of their new words, himself to do them.

“Well, that may be the case now, but you’ve said that you do things that Winter doesn’t have any interest in, right?”

“Yes,” Bucky nods, and Winter starts to tune out again, because they’re talking about Bucky.

“And that means that he’s capable of liking things outside of what you like. Since you have your interests in technology and science fiction-”

Bucky snorts, but it’s not Bucky, it’s Winter. Dr. Koning smiles and greets him, “Hello, Winter. Did you have anything to say?”

“I didn’t choose to front.” He leans back in the chair and crosses his arms over his chest, ignoring Bucky’s internal order to “be nice.”

“Well, the question still stands. I know that you don’t front often for your safety, which I understand, but when you do front, have you considered looking for things outside of what you both do together to occupy your time?” Her face is carefully neutral, but Winter can how much she needs him to agree to this experiment. Bucky tries to correct him, that it’s not an experiment, but that is certainly what it sounds like. Attempt to find a new interest to establish personality outside of shared interests.

“She just wants you to be happy. I can hear how lonely you get rattling around back there, and you don’t like any of my friends.”

“Your friends are idiots, but they’d know immediately if I were to try and spend time with them instead of you.” He tells Bucky out loud.

Dr. Koning chimes in. “That’s why I think it would be good for you to go outside of your shared interests, that way you’re meeting new people and you don’t have to pretend to be Bucky Barnes, you can just be yourself.”

“Myself murders people.”

“Winter,” Dr. Koning sighs, “Do you want to go over this again?”

“No, you’re not gonna fix me in one session. I’ll do your experiment. I’ll find a hobby.” He says the last word like it’s a slight and Barnes is inside his head giggling. Idiot.

“I’m glad to hear it. When we meet again we can discuss how it’s going.”

Winter gets up and leaves without saying goodbye.

—–

“Um, what are you doing?”

Winter isn’t startled by the question, because he heard bare feet padding on the floor long before Tony Stark deigned to speak.

“Cooking.” Winter tells his gruffly, as he continues to stir the risotto.

“Oh, well, it smells good. Must mean you’re doing a good job.” Tony is tense, not quite comfortable around Bucky yet. Winter lets him maintain the illusion that it’s Bucky he’s talking to.

“If you stop talking you can have some.” The recipe Winter found was for four people, and Winter could have eaten it all, but he didn’t really want to.

“It’s 3am.” Tony countered and Winter looked over his shoulder at him.

“So?”

Tony took a seat at the island and didn’t say another word.

Winter could feel Tony’s eyes on him, but even a genius probably wouldn’t be able to figure them out from just one meeting. Bucky stirs from where he’s been dormant and is caught off guard by Tony’s presence.

“You don’t think he’ll notice? I’m down in the lab a lot.”

“We’ll tell him you sleep walk. Now be quiet, you’re distracting me.”

“You need to add more stock.”

“I know!”

“Everything okay over there?” Tony asked from the island, and Winter tensed and then forced himself to untense, muscle by muscle.

“It’s all fine.” He says, trying for Bucky’s accent and failing miserably.

Tony stays quiet again, and Winter stirs, adding stock to the risotto before he burns it. Barnes is laughing at him. Winter resolves to distract him the next time they’re sparring with Captain America.

When the risotto is finally done he spoons some onto two plates, giving himself a normal sized helping and resolving to go back for more one Tony was taken care of. “Here.” He says and sets the plate down in front of Tony.

Tony takes it and fishes a fork out from a nearby drawer, handing the other to Winter, before digging in himself.

Winter eats, analyzing the dish to see what he could have done better. The rice is not as well cooked as he would have liked, and the mushrooms are too thick for his taste. He resolves to try a different stock and thinner mushrooms next time when he realizes Bucky is trying to get his attention.

“Tony’s thanking you.”

Winter looks up at Tony and sure enough, he’s looking at Winter like he’s waiting for some kind of response. When one doesn’t seem forthcoming he either repeats himself or continues. “This is really good.”

“It could be better.”

“You’re supposed to say thank you.”

“But thank you.” He wishes that he could kick Barnes.

“Hey, everyone’s their own worst critic. I didn’t even know you cooked.” Tony is very obviously trying to be comfortable. Exposure therapy, like they did with Winter and Steve.

“It’s new.” Winter tells him. Just then, thankfully, the oven goes off, and the baked chicken is finished. Winter gets up and grabs potholders from beside the stove, Tony watches him the whole time until a tray of breaded and perfectly baked chicken is sitting on a wooden cutting board on the counter resting.

When Winter goes back to his food Tony is staring at him. “You made risotto.”

“Yes.”

“And you breaded and baked chicken.”

“Yes.”

“At 3am.”

“Yes.”

Tony blinks, “You are full of surprises, Barnes.”

Winter says, “Don’t call me that,” instinctively, but realizes his mistake as soon as he’s said it.

“What else would I call you?” Tony asks, probably thinking this is going to be one of those cheesy invitations to call Bucky by his first name. It’s not. He’s not Bucky. But as per their agreement, he’s not allowed to tell him that.

“James.”

Bucky groans inside their head, because he hates that, name, but Winter isn’t left with many other options.

“I thought you hated that name.”

“It’s my chef name. Deal with it.”

Tony looks at him, then looks at the risotto and the chicken. “You know what, I can live with that. Happy to make your acquaintance chef James.”

Bucky is irritated. Winter is pleased that he got around their rules and now has two people who won’t call him Bucky.

——

Three nights later Tony Stark find himself in the communal kitchen with “Chef James,” and there’s gotta be a story there Tony’s missing, but the food is too good to ask too many questions, and he tries to make a little bit more conversation. Talking to regular not-cooking Bucky is difficult and some days even impossible for reasons Tony can’t explain, but cooking Bucky, “Chef James” is less intimidating. Sure, Tony has seen him wield a knife with such deadly accuracy that he should be scared of the man chopping vegetables in front of him, but he’s not. He doesn’t remind Tony anything of the man he fought in Siberia or the man who killed his parents. He’s a completely separate entity from either of them, and he’s easier to be around, because he doesn’t talk much. It’s a great start, in Tony’s opinion.

“You just gonna sit there?” James asks when Tony has been nursing the same cooling cup of coffee for twenty minutes.

“I was planning on it. I learned from experience not to step into a kitchen I wasn’t asked in. I burn water.”

“That’s impossible.” James looks over his shoulder at Tony, skeptical, and maybe the teeniest bit amused, but that might be Tony’s imagination.

“Not for me.” Tony gives him his brightest smile and Bucky turns back to the grilled cheese he’s making. It’s less complicated than the risotto, and faster. Winter is actually hungry, and wanted to make himself something rather than warming up one of the many cartons of left overs in their fridge. He will try and make his own stir fry soon, now that he’s mastered pastas, but he didn’t have the time to figure that out right now. He was hungry.

“So, is this a nightly ritual, James in the kitchen at midnight?”

“No.”

The short answer doesn’t deter Tony in the slightest.

“Okay, so how long have you been cooking for yourself?”

“A month.”

“Cool, cool. Nothing fancy this time around. After your last meal I almost expect you to be making tomato soup from scratch.”

“I don’t like tomato soup.”

“Have you ever had it from scratch?”

“No.” Winter has had canned tomato soup, however, while on liquid nutrition, and it wasn’t pleasant. It was not an experience he or Bucky was eager to repeat.

“Well, to each his own. Why don’t you want to be called Bucky while you’re cooking.”

He nearly says why. He nearly says it. But he bites his tongue and flips the sandwich he’s making, because if he lets Barnes front and deal with this then he’s failed and he won’t get to have his grilled cheese.

“I don’t feel like Bucky when I cook.” Not a lie, but not the secret he’s been forbidden to tell. Barnes isn’t happy, but he doesn’t make any move to try and take control.

“Oh.” Tony says, with a sincere sort of understanding that makes Winter uneasy. Because Tony does understand, on some level. Maybe he never took a stage name, or whatever Barnes is doing, but he definitely remembers not wanting to be himself, and using building, and at a darker point in his life, drinking, to accomplish that. “That makes sense.”

Winter doesn’t say anything to that, just sets down a grilled cheese in front of Tony before continuing to make his own.

“Oh my god.” Tony says around food and Bucky turns to check on him. “This is amazing, what did you put in this?”

“Three cheeses, black pepper, paprika,” Winter lists off, annoyed at having thought something was wrong. “It’s just a grilled cheese.”

“No, it’s amazing. You need to shut up.” Tony took another bite and then another.

“You eat like you’re starving,” Winter tells him, and it’s supposed to be an insult. Tony nods and swallows.

“It’s only been like,” he checks his watch, “36 hours. Friday would force me to eat way before I starved. Wow, this is amazing.”

Winter blinks, then glares at Tony.

“Unacceptable.”

Tony stops mid chew and asks, “What?”

“Unacceptable,” He repeats and sets down the sandwich he’d been saving for himself in front of Tony as well. “Eat.”

“Um, whoa, I can feed myself.”

“Apparently not. Eat.”

Tony knows better than to question someone with Russian Murder Eyes, so he pulls the sandwich onto his plate and then goes back to eating his own. Winter nods and Bucky rolls the idea around in the back of his head.

“You’re concerned for him.”

“Someone has to be. Friday isn’t physical. She can’t force him to eat.”

“Great observation, buddy, just remember that we’re trying to maintain a secret here.”

“Yes.”

Winter finishes the grilled cheese that he’s making and then he goes to his Pinterest board for high-calorie, high-protein meals.

“Um, what are you doing there, chef James?”

Winter looks up and glares at Tony again. Tony raises his hands in mock surrender and continues eating. “Forget I asked.”

Winter did.

—–

The next afternoon there was a fresh baked lasagna sitting on the counter in Tony’s workshop, cooling, with a plate and a set of utensils sitting docile beside it. Bucky had been the one to bring it up, but the notes was signed “James.” All it said was, “Eat.”

Tony did, then asked Friday to discreetly invite their resident former assassin to join him. Friday asked which one and Tony sighed at her.

“The one who made me this frankly delicious lasagna. Feels weird to be eating without him.”

“James is not currently in residence. Would you like me to contact Bucky to ask when he may be available?”

“Hey, look, Fri, I know he’s doing the whole, ‘I’m not Bucky when I cook’ thing, but I don’t think it’s literal.”

“Handwriting analysis as well as behavioral pattern analysis says otherwise, boss.”

“What do you mean handwriting analysis?” Tony asks, turning to one of the many screens he was using for stats that now had a side by side picture of James and Bucky’s handwriting. James’ was a messy scrawl where Bucky’s was all neat loops of early thirties cursive. Okay…

“Okay. Yeah, let’s just… “ Tony sighed, looking at the lasagna on his plate and then at the handwriting. “Just ask if James wants to come and eat with me, and pretend we didn’t just figure out… whatever this is.”

“Of course, boss.”

——

“No,” Winter said firmly when Bucky relayed the message to him.

“Oh come on, you took the time to make it, we should at least get a taste.”

“It is for Tony. He doesn’t eat.”

“Yes he does, you see him walking around with those protein shakes. When he said he hadn’t eaten he just meant solid food. He’s not in danger of collapsing. Come on, this is your chance to make some friends.”

“I killed his parents.”

“If he’s willing to try and look past that you should too.”

Winter does not reply, and instead allows himself to front and go and see Tony. He feels distinctly uncomfortable with the gesture, but Tony was kind to them when he didn’t have to be, was under no obligation to, and after Winter got over his distrust of such kindness it had become… welcoming. He had only wanted to give Tony something in return.

“You called.” Winter’s face is as blank as it can possibly be, and Tony smiles when he sees him.

“Chef James,” he says, using James without prompting, which Winter is glad for, “I saw that you left me this, and I just wanted to make sure you got some too. I had Dummy get an extra plate, here.” He served a second helping for Winter and set it on the counter beside where Tony was sitting. “It’s amazing.” He says it like Winter didn’t make it himself. Of course it was good. Maybe it could be better with certain alterations, but for now it was good.

“Yes.” Winter began to eat, taking in all the components as one and then picking a part his next bite into individual components to taste them.

“You are a man of very few words, James.” It sounds like an observation made aloud for Tony’s benefit, rather than the beginning of some kind of discussion, so Winter says nothing.

They eat mostly in silence, with Tony making comments occasionally that are all along the lines of compliments. James thinks the meat sauce has too much meat in it and the cheese is a little heavier than he would have liked. Next time he’ll-

“So, you just started cooking a month ago? Really?”

“Yes.” Winter is a little bit irritated at having been interrupted, but he is learning to deal with irritation by not lashing out. Dr. Koning would be proud.

“What made you decide to choose cooking?”

“Nourishment is important. Learning to make it was an acceptable pastime.”

Tony nods, “Okay… right. Do you bring lasagnas to all your friends then?”

“I don’t have friends.”

“Steve would probably beg to differ.”

“Steve doesn’t know that I cook.”

“Oh, I see, this is more chef James distinctions. Gotcha. So, do you bring lasagnas to all of the people in the compound?”

Bucky is smirking inside their head. “It’s a fair question.”

“No.” Winter replies to both Bucky and Tony.

“Just me then.” Tony fidgets in his seat and continues eating. “Is there anything else I should now about chef James and how he’s different from Bucky.”

“I don’t fight.” He says, and Bucky is starting to sound too intrigued in their head.

“Maybe this will be good for you.”

“Really? Well okay then. I won’t ask you to fight. Anything else?”

“I don’t like those stupid sci-fi books.”

“Hey!”

“Interesting. Do you want some cookbooks?”

“The internet provides me with all the information I need.”

“Right, so you’ve come into the age of modern technology. Cool. Well then…” He rolls his chair back to where he keeps spare tablets, because he breaks them a lot down here. “Why don’t you take one of these. Friday can get you any book you want, and you can read to your heart’s content, or throw it in a box and forget about it like Bucky did to the last one. Whatever works.”

“If you already gave me one, then why are you giving me another?” Winter asks and Tony just holds his gaze.

“Because you’re not Bucky when you’re cooking.”

Winter and Bucky both know in that instant that Tony has figured it out, but he’s not saying anything. Winter nods and takes the tablet from him before getting up to leave. “Finish that,” he points to Tony’s plate, “And eat at least one more.”

“Yes sir.” He mock salutes and Winter leaves the room.

“Shit.” Bucky says feeling enough panic that it starts to sink into Winter.

“Yes.” He replies, but he doesn’t really feel it. Aside from Dr. Koning, Tony is the first person to acknowledge Winter’s presence, even if he is calling him by the ridiculous name, “James.” And he’s the first person to ever give him something that was just for him.

“Oh, no.”

“What?” Winter asks angrily as he calls the elevator.

“You’ve got it bad, man.”

“No.” Winter was fine. He didn’t have anything.

——TBC—–

(I needed to get something out today, but I’ll continue tomorrow. AO3 Link Above)

[iwritefanficsometimes]

They’re Burning All the Witches Even if You Aren’t One

Prompt: The prompt got long and lost in a bunch of planning, but basically Stephen is a witch during the witch trials and they save people from being killed, but sometimes Stephen makes choices about how to save people that make Tony worry for their safety.

Title stolen from Taylor Swift song. I only used it because it said “witch” so... but credit where it’s due.

(Dear gods this post needed editing. If you’re reading this that’s already happened.)

------

“Stephen? I need some more of that burn salve. I’ve had another accident in the forge.”

From somewhere farther into the already small cabin of the village’s healer he heard Stephen call back, “I’m with someone, it’ll be just a minute.”

Tony can hear the tension in his tone and he knows that something is very wrong, so he decides to intervene. “Oh Stephen, and you didn’t invite me? Who’s the lucky lad… y.” Tony enters Stephen’s back room where he does all his apothecary work to see the woman that was meant to be hung that morning sitting in one of Stephen’s cloaks, eyes still tear stained and looking petrified at Tony’s entrance. Tony smiled at her and then looked to Stephen, who was putting together a sack for her and trying his hardest not to look at Tony. He was about to fail. “Stephen, we talked about this.”

“They were trying her for witchcraft, I couldn’t just let her die!” Stephen stood up with a sack in hand already half full of basic medicines and salves for the most common plant rashes.

“I didn’t expect you to,” Tony hissed, keeping his voice low. The house’s walls were too thin to risk speaking any louder. “But I did expect you to have the common sense to get her out of here before they hanged the double! If they see her now she’s definitely dead!” Tony turned his smile back on the haggard woman, “But don’t worry, darling, you’ll be fine.” She nods at him, but she doesn’t look sure. She’s obviously been told not to speak, which is good. One wrong note of her voice carrying through the thin walls and the whole charade would go up in smoke.Tony turned back to Stephen. “I don’t suppose you have a plan for getting her out of here in broad daylight, do you Stephen?”

“Of course I have a plan. She’ll leave at sundown.”

“Sundown!?” Tony flinched at the ringing of his own voice. Too loud. “Alright, and what are you going to do with her until sundown? You’re lucky it’s me that’s popped back here and not some nosy townie. They’d hang you too if they saw you with her after she’s supposed to be dead.”

“I know, Tony. I enchanted the door to turn people away today.” Tony gave him a look, “It’s subtle magic, they’ll never know!”

“There’s a witch hunt going on out there, Stephen. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but they’re hanging people. If they catch you doing magic-”

“Then we’ll move on again, just like last time.” Stephen set the bag of medicine and salves down and walked towards Tony, the girl forgotten for the moment. Stephen took Tony’s face in his hands, to make Tony look into his eyes and see his sincerity. “We’ll be okay.”

Tony shook his head, but couldn’t shake Stephen’s grip. “This was a mistake. We should have left as soon as they started hanging people. I can’t lose you Stephen.” The pain in Tony’s voice breaks Stephen’s heart, so he leans in to his lover, pressing their foreheads together.

“I know. I know, Tony. But we can’t just let these people die.”

Tony takes a deep breath, filling his nose with the scent of salves and herbs and Stephen. “I know.” Tony closes his eyes to ward off tears, because as calm as he tries to be this scares him. What they’re doing, what they’re risking, it petrifies him. He’s always so afraid that one day he’ll make an excuse to come and see the healer and he won’t be there, already locked in an iron barred prison where his magic is too weak to save him. “Please, Stephen, just be more careful next time.”

“I know, but she was afraid to go in the daylight. She would have just gotten nervous and gotten herself caught. It’s better this way. We’ll take her to the next village over and she can make her way from there-”

“I’m running out of excuses to go to town, Stephen. I can’t keep doing this in the long term.”

“You’re an eccentric, surely you can-” Tony stopped him, shaking head head.

“Hammer is getting suspicious, all these times that I’m riding out on the same day as executions. He’s looking for any proof. If they don’t get you they’ll get me.”

Stephen takes a deep breath and runs his thumbs along the bones of Tony’s cheeks. “No. I won’t let them get you. I’d never let them hurt you.”

“We have no guarantee. What if they hang me before you even get word?”

“I have my ways,” Stephen says cryptically, and Tony rolls his eyes.

“Not with the damn butterflies again, you woodland nymph,” Tony pulls back wrapping his arms around Stephen’s neck. “You’re supposed to be a big scary magical witch, and you ask the butterflies to keep tab on me. You old romantic.” Tony leans back in, this time for a kiss.

“I’m only as romantic as you let me be.” Stephen smiles and kisses Tony again. “This time you didn’t even get us the same house.”

“I couldn’t swing it. Brothers in arms only works the one time before people start to wonder what other kind of brothers you are.”

Stephen rolls his eyes and runs his hands down Tony’s face to his shoulders. “I’ve got burn salve stashed in the kitchen. Get it and go. Tell people I’m busy if they ask.”

“Will do. I love you.” He pecks Stephen on the cheek as he leaves.

“I love you too.” Stephen whispers, because if he says it loud enough for Tony to hear it from the entrance way, then he’ll say it loud enough for everyone else to hear too.

“Now you, my dear, are going to need a change of clothes. Let me see what I can whip up for you.”

She nods and Stephen ignores the red tinge to her ears for the sake of both their dignities.

She meets a nice man three towns over and settles down with him. He calls himself Rhodes. Stephen and Tony still get letters updating them on the health of their child every year at Yule.

Tony and Stephen send letters back on their new fostered (adopted) boy, Peter. They move three times before the witch hunts die down enough for them to really settle, and by then they’ve found a nice house with space enough for an apothecary and a forge, with a good enough excuse to be living together as any. Tony needs a physician on call at all times because of how reckless he is, and Stephen needs someone with a working set of hands to help around the house. They keep separate houses, but the second house is mainly Tony’s work space, with only the front room ever prepared for company to keep up appearances. When their fostered (adopted) boy, begins internships under both Stephen and Tony, neither of them could prouder.

[iwritefanficsometimes]

The Most Unprofessional Incident Report: Narrated by Colonel Rhodes

Prompt: “This does not count as our first kiss!”

A/N: So I have so many long drafts running right now, so expect a bunch of short things until those are ready. I’m gonna try and alternate requests with my own ideas. Ending is like a cut away scene after Tony has read Rhodey’s report. This is just me playing around with a different narration style, so let me know what you think.

———

So, let’s start at the beginning.

Tony Stark and Stephen Strange are idiots. They’re respectively geniuses, but they are also idiots. They have always been idiots, but their idiocy seems to amplify itself when they’re around each other. They make each other more stupid. And yet, they’re doing whatever the hell they’re doing now.

I know, you want to know how that could have possibly happened, but hold on, we’re getting there. I know you also want to know why this is relevant to the mission, but trust me, you’re going to want to hear this.

Iron Man and I were called in to deal with a possible interdimensional incident. We arrived on scene at 15:24, as noted in the suit’s security footage. Shortly after our arrival, at approximately 15:27, Doctor Stephen Strange, Wizarding Asshole, arrived on scene. IM and WA proceeded to enter into a verbal altercation, replicated below from security footage.

IM: Oh, great, look Rhodey, the wizard showed up. Where’re your glasses, Potter? It really ruins the whole look when you don’t have them.

WA: Did you leave you pop culture reference book at home, Stark? That one was kind of weak.

IM: Oh, [redacted] you. What are you doing here? This is our scene. You don’t have jurisdiction here.

WA: I’m the Sorcerer Supreme. I have jurisdiction everywhere, you [redacted].

IM: Not here you don’t. Go, shoo, go teach some kinds how to levitate something and leave this to the real heroes.

WA: I’ll remember that next time I’m in a position to save your life.

WM: Guys, we have a situation here. Can you have your lover’s spat some other time.

IM: Rhodey-bear, I’m hurt. I’d never stoop that low.

WA: You’re not exactly my idea of a catch either, Stark.

IM: Oh you’d be lucky to get a peek at my [redacted], Gandalf.

WA: I think you mean unlucky.

WM: Again. We have a situation in progress. Do not make me separate you like [redacted] children.

IM: Okay, but only for you.

Wizarding Asshole (Stephen Strange), did not answer, but they stopped fighting briefly. The footage of the containment of the interdimensional creature is attached.

—

After the battle WA and IM started to verbally fight again. I asked them to stop, but they refused to listen. They fought for five entire minutes before IM pulled a gauntlet on WA for calling him a “has been wanna be inventor” and fired once. WA conjured a shield that deflected the blast toward the containment unit of the previously mentioned interdimensional creature. The hole created in the containment unit was large enough for the non-vertebrae creature to squeeze through and release itself. I recontained the creature while IM and WA got their [redacted] together. I expect all the credit for the success of this mission.

Once the creature was contained a second time and I broke up their [redacted] fight again, they were glaring at each other like toddlers fighting over the last cookie who just got told neither of them could have it because they were acting like toddlers. We waited for SHIELD to take the containment unit away and then began clean up, with IM and WA attempting to show each other up with how much more they could lift with their respective skillsets. They made a bigger mess than we started with and I expect full credit for the clean up.

When they were done with their [redacted] measuring contest and I was done with clean up, IM offered to take me to dinner and made a smart remark about WA not being invited. WA proceeded to invite himself just to spite IM. IM threw a fit. They fought again. Then I said that I wasn’t going anywhere until they sat down and sorted their [redacted] out. IM and WA agreed far too easily. If you really want to see it the suit footage will show you the whole five minutes of intense silence followed by the most obnoxious kiss I’ve ever seen. I looked away, because I didn’t need to see my best friend kissing on the wizard he’d been [redacted] to me about for the last several months. I stayed to make sure this wasn’t the prelude to some weird public hate [redacted], but IM just said, “This doesn’t count as our first kiss!” WA laughed and said, “Then I guess we need a do over.” When I looked back they were gone. Suit footage confirms that WA created a portal, though I have no idea where to, and they left through it.

I haven’t seen IM or WA in three days.

So, to the next person who asks me where IM is, this is the answer. Stop asking me.

——

Five days later:

“You know that ‘redacted’ isn’t meant to censor no-no words, right, Rhodey bear?”

“You know that wizards aren’t meant to be your personal get away transport, right?”

“We had some very important things to discuss.”

Rhodey gave Tony a Look™️ and Tony just grinned.

“Love you honey bear.”

“Yeah, well next time prove it with a damn text. I’m not filling out another incident report about you going missing. I’m just going to have them declare you dead.”

Tony pulled Rhodey into a hug which he reluctantly returned. “Will do.”

(AO3)

Prompt Me!