Hey, let’s read some fanfics
lET’S NO T READ SOE M FANIF CS
Usually I draw cute,fluffy things….and then I remember I am a masochist for feels and I draw things like this…
* hide under poncho*
So Steve’s been trying to convince Tony -slowly, as much as he can without pushing too hard- to adopt kids.
Tony always exits stage left as fast as is humanly possible. Once, he even blows something up to distract Steve long enough to punch the repulsors and fly off.
Then, when they’re at a crappy gala which they all hate-
Natasha’s off to the side with Bruce, teaching him how not to go on a vicious homicidal spree when one of the people here tries to talk to you (it’s harder than it looks, seriously), and Tony has finished his quota of schmoozing for the night. He’s looking around, casting world-suffering looks at the other Avengers when he finally catches Steve, and he stops, frozen, hand outstretched to tap him on the shoulder. Because Steve is bouncing a baby carefully in his arms, with this small, intimate smile on his face, looking down at it like he’s holding the world bunched in baby booties and a diaper.
Tony hears him tell the mother that he’s beautiful, and the mother gushes before scooping the baby back up in her arms and spinning him, gliding back into the crowd.
Tony just stands there, shock-still, until Steve notices him.
Steve turns to him, bashful, like he’s been caught doing something wrong, and Tony knows that if he presses up against his chest, his arms, it’ll be achingly warm where the baby was.
Tony looks down at his feet. He swallows; says, “So, they seem less horrible than I originally thought.”
And steve’s answering smile makes him dread the dirty diapers, the crushing responsibility, and his own monumental daddy issues a bit less than he did a minute ago.
(drabble by the lovely theappleppielifestyle)
He turns over. He hums to himself; one hand curled in the thin motel bedspread, the other groping for the body beside him.
“You wanna go for breakfast, maybe?” he murmurs.
His hand comes up empty. He turns his head to one side; the bed is empty. The room is empty. He’s alone.
That’s the first time.
“Whu,” says Tony, blinking awake. Then, rallying, he adds, “I mean…whu? Why’re you…uh. Time izzit?”
“It’s eleven,” Steve says, rolling his eyes. “Which would be gross, except that I know when you came to bed last night. Is that my shirt?”
“To sleep in?”
“Yes,” Tony says, stubborn, because he’s certainly not going to explain that he’d found it in the workshop and put it on for…sentimental reasons. Because that didn’t happen. Obviously. ”Why’re you, uh. You should be like…awake. Doing things. Morning things.”
“You know, your genius drops off a little before your first cup of coffee,” Steve says; Tony, who is predictable in some ways, says, “Coffee?”
Steve laughs and shakes his head, amusement and something softer, fonder, lingering in the crinkles around his eyes. He pulls Tony in for a kiss, and Tony frowns for a minute, because this isn’t coffee; then he leans in a little, scrapes his teeth gently over the curve of Steve’s lower lip, because you don’t have to be particularly awake for that.
“Morning, Tony,” Steve says, grinning at him as he pulls away.
“Mmm, sure,” Tony says, and if he lets himself relish it for a second, lets himself lean back in and close his eyes…well. Coffee can probably wait.
ficlet is by JIZZY/GYZYM who is awesome awesome enough to write a little about it buhyoo ;o; best
i probably need to stop but CERTAIN PEOPLE ENCOURAGE THIS eyezooms at the above person i’m looking at you