#stonyfanfic

[everythingissoboring]

I fell like Steve could send this to Tony accidently lol maybe from the flip phone.

[everythingissoboring]

My dear..

[everythingissoboring]

Movie: And then He dies the other one is not even sad he just goes back his ex. WITH A FUCKIN TIME MACHINE but they can't be together of course that would be funny.

*Fanfiction writers opens their laptops in the movie theater:* Here we *fucking*go AGAIN.

[eucalyptus-sage]

wanting/having

steve rogers was used to pining. hell, he might even be an expert in it. no one had ever wanted him before the serum, so he was used to pining. wanting and dreaming and thinking but never quite capable of having. 

steve rogers was used to saving small bits of people, little things, like the way they raked their hands through their hair or the way they bit their lips or the way they drummed their fingers against the closest available objects. 

he was used to saving those small memories, those thoughts, for himself. little things, just enough to keep him wanting more but never enough to fulfill what he actually wanted. he was used to staring and hurting and wanting without any chance of having.

he always seemed to choose people he couldn’t have, which really didn’t help his situation. natasha had a long list of people she’d assured him would love a date with Captain America, but he didn’t really want any of them. he wasn’t really ready to admit that what-or who he wanted wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met.

first off, he was a he. and steve had never wanted a he like that before, but he figured, it was okay now, it was fine now, no one would think less of him, so he pushed that part away. but secondly, he was attractive, the type that would never like someone like steve, even with the super soldier serum. and thirdly, he was everything steve had ever wanted to be. charming, smart, so easily capable and so effortlessly powerful. he walked into a room and people turned. steve had always marveled at people like that.

so, steve rogers sentenced himself to pining. to jokes and quips and small details. but even he couldn’t pretend that having little parts of tony stark would never be enough. that knowing what his smile looked like before coffee would never be enough. that slight brushes and high fives and hands on shoulders would never be enough. 

steve had been pining his whole life, so he resolved himself to furtive glances and small comments and irrelevant details. the last thing he expected was for his pining to be mutual.

the last thing he expected was for tony freaking stark, in a suit and tie, to confess that he’d wanted him for months now, that he was sure steve didn’t feel the same way but that he had to tell him anyway. the last thing he was expecting was for tony to shrug and act as if it was no big deal when in reality steve could see tony’s eyes and they were filled with disappointment and a little bit of anger and a flash of sadness.

and the last thing that steve ever expected himself to do was grab tony by the shoulders, run his hands up into his hair and kiss him. (steve had wanted, dreamed, thought about it for months.) thought about the way tony might wrap his arms around his waist and pull him closer, thought about the fact that tony was probably better at this than he was (he was), thought about the way tony might run his tongue across steve’s bottom lip, thought about the way tony might gasp (he loved that.) he’d dreamed, thought, pined for months, stealing the smallest glances and everything, anything he could, but never, ever did he imagine tony stark pulling away from a kiss with him, and going “oh. wow. okay. you have to warn me next time you plan on doing that, because as you know, i’ve got this small, itsy bitsy heart problem, you know, nothing major-” 

“i’m going to do it again,” steve whispered, before pulling tony back in and silencing him with another kiss.

steve rogers was used to pining. he was an expert. he was used to wanting and never having. he’d resigned himself to a lifetime of it. what he wasn’t used to were good morning kisses and more than slight brushes and sleepy smiles. he was used to wanting, but nothing, nothing could have ever prepared him for having.

steve rogers was an expert in pining. but not even his wildest dreams compared to the joy of becoming an expert in having.

(well, isn’t this lovely. this is so sickeningly sweet and sad and cute that it makes me want to cry. which is sort of ridiculous, because i wrote it. anyway, i really hope you like this one. it’s a pick me up in my opinion. a happy ending. i hope you like it.)

[eucalyptus-sage]

you can count on me

“if you need something to believe in”

it’s been a long day, and steve finds tony in his workshop, blasting queen and hammering way too hard on a sheet of metal. he tentatively approaches. when tony realizes he’s there and turns around, steve can see that his eyelashes are wet and his eyes are slightly red.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, grabbing tony’s shoulders. tony practically falls into him. the tension seeps out of his shoulders and his voice catches.

“nothing is simple anymore. nothing is good, or bad, and everyone always has to want something. i used to believe in things, cap.” tony sounds strangled, and it pulls at steve’s heart.

“believe in me, tony. you can always believe in me. i’m here,” steve says, wrapping his arms around him. tony collapses into him, and steve whispers soothing noises as he lets him cry.

“i’m always gonna have your back, and if nothing else, you can always count on that”

“cap, on your left,” tony says, and steve turns to throw a few punches and the goon goes down. 

“thanks, tony,” steve says, smiling. he probably looks like a dope, but tony can’t see him, so he grins anyway.

“what can i say, cap? i’ve got your back,” tony jokes back, but there’s a seriousness to his tone that makes steve want to haul him out of the sky and kiss him senseless.

“and i’ve got yours,” steve replies, taking down a straggling bot that’s been chasing tony for a few minutes. the rest of the team groans over the comms.

later, when they’re falling asleep, steve kisses tony, softly, gently, and goes “i’ve got your back.” tony smiles up at him, running his thumb over the gold band on steve’s hand. “and i’ve got yours.”

“don’t be afraid, i’ll always guide you home”

“do you miss it, cap?” tony asks, one day, absentmindedly tracing equations and shapes on steve’s arm. it’s a lazy morning, some of steve’s favorite days.

“what?” he mumbles sleepily.

“home. you know, the past?” 

steve opens his eyes at that and leans up for a soft kiss, feeling tony immediately melt into him. “how could i? i’m happy. i am home.” 

tony smiles down at him before tugging steve closer, holding him tight.

“you’re my home too,” he whispers.

all of the bolded parts are from Colbie Coillat’s song, Never Gonna Let You Down. 

(so, Happy Thanksgiving, if you celebrate! Here’s some fluff for you. I heard this song playing earlier today, and my first thought was that it fit stony so perfectly, and I wrote this. I hope you like it. I loved writing it.)

[eucalyptus-sage]

we never really know

“i like you, cap. shit, i think i could even love you. god, what would my dad think of that, huh? probably wouldn’t like it. or maybe he would, i don’t know, he always had some weird thing for you. liked you better than he liked me, after all,” tony says, his eyes red and his legs restless. “i’m a fucking mess, rogers. and i like you, and it makes no fucking sense and i really shouldn’t, it makes absolutely no sense, but then again, i got kidnapped and became a superhero and you jumped on a grenade and someone chose you to become a superhero, so i guess we never really know, do we?” 

steve doesn’t say a word. he’s not sure what he can say. he hasn’t seen tony out of his workshop in nearly a week, and he doesn’t look like he’s been sleeping.

tony looks up at him, a sad smile on his face, a screwdriver absentmindedly in his left hand. 

“yeah, pep always says i’m a mess, i guess she’s right. anyway, moral of the story, summary, conclusion, whatever you want to call it, i like you, steve rogers. kinda hate myself for it. i could go out and have practically any person i want and i had to choose the one guy who is straighter than a board and also, the paragon of every virtue i’ve never had.”

“i’m not,” steve says, before he can really stop himself. tony looks back up at him inquisitively. “straighter than a board. i’m not.”

tony tilts his head in an almost dismissive way. “oh. interesting development then, rogers.” he seems to have a thought then, and a small smile graces his face. “dad would’ve hated that,” he says, almost to himself.

steve’s clears his throat and shuffles against the side of the door. “are you okay, tony?” 

“huh? yeah, sure, cap, just dandy. except for the fact that you don’t like me, which, yeah, makes sense, i don’t really know what i expected-”

“i do,” steve interrupts.

“i’m sorry, what?” 

“like you. i do,” steve says, trying to remain as confident as he can. tony looks up at him and seems almost unsure, as if this is all some elaborate prank.

“oh. that’s...oh.” 

“yeah,” steve mumbles, looking down at the floor. he’s not really sure what to do.

“oh,” tony repeats, standing up. the screwdriver’s still in his hands as he approaches and steve doesn’t move. tony reaches up and gently brushes his hand through steve’s hair, slipping the screwdriver into his pocket. “i’ve wanted to do that for a while,” tony admits.

tony’s practically leaning against steve and for the first time in this entire conversation, steve knows what to do. he reaches down and presses his lips against tony’s, soft and hesitant, until tony’s hand is around his neck, pulling him down with more urgency. steve swipes his tongue across tony’s top lip and tony makes a sound that steve wants to grin at, something in between a sigh and a moan. he kisses tony like he’s wanted to for the past several months, nipping at tony’s bottom lip and smiling to himself when tony lets out a sharp breath.

eventually, they break apart, steve’s hair thoroughly destroyed, tony’s lips fairly swollen. 

“see, now i feel bad for not confessing months ago,” tony says, his breath slightly labored.

steve shakes his head and smiles slightly before grabbing tony’s arm and dragging him up to his room. 

“i like where your mind’s at, rogers,” tony says, a grin on his face as steve pushes open his door.

steve snorts and rolls his eyes, albeit fondly. “sure, tony. but before we find out how much we might’ve missed out on the last few months, you’re going to sleep. for at least 8 hours,” steve says, pushing tony gently onto the bed.

“you seriously cannot say something like that and then just expect me to sleep,” tony responds, but he can feel himself sinking into the mattress, his eyes slowly closing. 

“mhm” steve mumbles, pulling the covers up around him. 

they might just work after all.

(no idea. no clue what this is. kinda soft and fluffy. hope you like it! also, send me ideas, please, so i stop writing things like this.)

[eucalyptus-sage]

“make me”

“look, i get it, i’m not your type, and it was just a stupid idea, forget it ever happened, forget i ever asked, it was dumb, it doesn’t matter-” tony rambles, and steve can see the way he’s back away from him, his head looking down, his hands shaking just the slightest bit.

“no, tony, it’s not that, it’s just that,” steve tries to interject, but tony steamrolls right over him.

“no, it’s fine, steve, i get it, i’m sorry, this is on me,” tony continues, and steve just wants him to shut up, to stop talking, just for one damn second so that steve can get a word in, and before he really thinks it through, steve’s standing in front of tony, kissing him.

tony shuts up and kisses him back, his mouth opening and his tongue running across steve’s bottom lip and for a second, steve forgets how to breathe. he pushes back until tony’s back is against the wall and when they finally break apart, they’re both embarrassingly out of breath.

“fuck, rogers, i’ve seen you less winded after you’ve ran a couple miles,” tony says after a moment, taking deep breaths. “i mean, i’ve always known i was good, but i guess this really proves it-”

“do you ever, ever shut up?” steve asks, stepping closer to tony again. his hand is around tony’s wrist and he can feel his heartbeat race against steve’s fingers. 

“make me,” tony challenges, a smirk on his smug face. 

“if you insist,” steve responds, closing the gap between them.

(I haven’t really been active today, I’m dealing with some stuff, but either way, have some random stony. this is way more sexual than i normally like, but it seemed appropriate. i dunno. i tried something different. anyway, i hope you all like it, and please, please send me ideas!)

[eucalyptus-sage]

happy.

steve’s drunk. he’s drunk, and tony’s smiling at him from his seat on the couch. he’s drunk and tony’s laughing and he can see the stars from the windows in front of them. 

steve’s drunk, and tony smells so good. so good. like campfires and pine. he’s drunk, and tony’s smiling at him, his eyes shining, his posture relaxed. he looks happy, steve thinks. he looks happy. he likes this tony better, steve decides. this tony. the tony that wears sweatshirts and laughs and smiles like everything matters instead of nothing. this tony, the one who makes jokes that don’t twist at steve’s insides, the tony that no one ever really gets to see. he likes this smile, the real one, the one where tony’s eyes crinkle and he looks happy. he likes this tony, steve decides. his tony.

steve’s drunk and tony is so close, and he smells so good, and he looks so happy and suddenly, steve’s kissing him. 

and then steve’s heart leaps to his throat, because tony doesn’t move. and a thousand thoughts swim through his head in a split second. but then tony’s hand is on his jaw and he’s kissing him back.

they kiss in front of the stars, hands running through hair and around necks. they kiss, slightly desperate. tony leans forwards into steve, pulling him closer. they kiss for what feels like an eternity and when steve finally pulls away, his cheeks are flushed and his lips are slightly sore.

“i’ve been waiting for you to do that,” tony whispers, his face a few inches away from steve’s. his lips are slightly swollen and steve’s chest still feels warm from tony’s hands. tony’s hair is tousled and his lips are red and all steve wants to do is kiss him.

steve’s drunk, and he’s falling in love. 

(i have written 3 stony fics/headcanons today and it’s just...it’s a lot. either way, i hope you like this one. and to everyone who sent me ideas, i promise, i’m getting to them. please send me more!)