So I'm wandering around my network, right, and ONE OF YOU is part of a community called fic_promptly
. I'm looking at you. Yes, you. This is your fault.
I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE BUT I BLAME YOU ANYWAY.
Anyway, so the challenge is Dialogue/No Dialogue, where the prompt is a line of dialogue but the fill shouldn't have any dialogue. Does that make sense? It's midnight, idk. You can look at it here
So somebody prompted, Marvel Comics, Tony Stark/Any, "Come fly with me."
AND THEN THIS HAPPENED.Pepper. Tony. 159 words.
He'd invited her to fly with him dozens of times by this point, until it almost had become a running joke that she wouldn't. It wasn't that she was frightened, so much, as she thought that being completely at Tony's mercy more than five feet off the ground sounded like a terrible idea. Too many variables. What if he dropped her, or crushed her, or... no. She didn't trust him enough, and she trusted Iron Man even less. Plus there was that guy she'd dated in college who'd dissected how many different ways the Superman-flying-with-Lois-Lane scene in the original movie wouldn't work.
No, there would be no flying anywhere with Tony Stark, or Iron Man, drunk or sober.
Which, of course, explained why she was wrapped in his arms half a mile up and seriously wishing she'd worn a heavier coat.
It was Tony, after all, and she'd never been any good at telling him no for very long.
And then THIS HAPPENED TOO.Steve. Tony. Technically it's cheating because all I know is the movie. IDEK REALLY PEOPLE. 228 VERY SNEAKY WORDS.
He tilted his head and smirked, and Steve thought about fondue, and was every Stark this complicated? Tony must've inherited it from his father, along with the company - this merry, mercurial streak that Steve couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe flying was a metaphor for something else. It seemed to Steve that everything was a metaphor for something else, an eternal game of that's what she said
, whatever that even meant
. Half the time he felt two steps behind, but when Tony Stark walked into the room, it was closer to a dozen. Tony wanted Steve to fly with him, and Steve couldn't fly, which meant... what, exactly? Not the way he'd flown with the senior Stark, a rattletrap plane on a one-way mission to hell. No, not that at all. He meant - with him
, pressed against Iron Man's side, breathing air like icicles in his lungs, but so damned good anyway, and he could barely think, this high up, this close to Tony. He didn't know what to think about that, either; he didn't even quite understand it. Another complication in a complicated world. Maybe it was his eyes. Tony had his mother's eyes, dark and alluring, wide and wicked and full of an invitation that Steve wanted to answer even if he didn't know how. Even if he didn't know what it meant.
WHAT IS THIS I DON'T EVEN.