[ By the time he accepts his situation he's past the point of being able to text, voice-assisted or not. No warmth left in the pads of his dominant hand's fingers, no living tissue to control the screen. There's just enough to work with to put in the only call he can think to make.
Tony picks up, and Stephen's speaking over him immediately, brusque and brief. ]
[ It's been a long night. His choices have ranged from rushed to reasoned, instinct to intent, and it's only as they make their way back from the marking that reality starts to set in. Each step aches like a bruise, nothing to do with the blood on his skin, but it's hard to notice with Tony Stark a deafening presence at his side and his thigh smarting under fabric and friction. Each time drying blood catches and pulls at the edges of the wound, all he can think about is the surreal sinking of the man at his side to his knees. Warm hands, cold metal. Excruciating nakedness.
They make it back to the house without incident. By the time they lock the door behind them, Stephen feels like a trapped and tender nerve.
A moment spent in the kitchen - water poured and offered, shared - gives way to the walk upstairs to bed. Their bed. As strange as it was to share it that first night, clutching Tony's hand in the dark, that tension pales compared to this. Nothing is different. Everything has changed. He slips a few feet ahead once they reach the top of the stairs, stealing into the bedroom first, feeling every step of the walk to his usual side stretching out between them as he goes. Tugging his shirt off in a bid to follow routine, he doesn't notice when the collar tears. It's not until he drops his hands to the fastening of his pants that things finally start to go sideways.
His fingers, still a little bloody, catch and fumble - lose their grip. He pauses, blinks. Grabs up his discarded shirt to wipe his hands and tries again. Fails again. A third time. Dexterity, long-lost newfound friend, abandons him in an instant.
A breath shudders out of him. Frustrated, unsteady, Stephen stands there at the bedside, plucking fruitlessly at a knot he can't get a hold of, disbelief his final stubborn stop before coming undone. ]
[ The walk to the house is almost as potent as the night of the marks, and for all the wrong reasons. Stephen is almost silent, a grave air to the set of his face and any answers kept short. Shadowheart isn't with them. He can't blame her after the way he's been this week. The only real surprise is that he's not making this walk alone.
They make it back. It's a building they've lived in for a little over a month now and the only home they've ever shared, and maybe it's this thought or maybe it's the sight of Tony's back as he goes to replicate that first bonded night's routine of water before bed, but the overworked tendon of Stephen's resolve snaps.
He reaches out, lost child in the dark, catches fingers into coarse wool to keep him from straying too far. Not knowing what to do with him once he's caught him but not wanting to leave him to pull away or turn to watch him crumple, Stephen closes the gap, brow dropped against his hair and reaching around to take a fresh handful of the knit at Tony's front, unsteady breath spilling down over his nape. ]
[ He's thinking of asking nicely, when he first thinks to ask at all. Asking for a lesson, to sit down and be taught how to lure shapes out of wood, an hour of peace to cover over the rot of what he's really doing.
But the only thing that can really make this worse is a lie. ]
Will you show me your whittling tools?
I'd like a tour of the smithy after, if you have time.
[ He doesn't apologise. If all this is as much nothing to worry about as every second thought he has demands of him it must be, then there's nothing to apologise for. Simple process of elimination. He thinks Tony will understand. ]
Do you think guys put even half the amount of effort into sexts that we do? I spent like 40 minutes picking out which pleated skirt would look best with those panties. They definitely donβt have an equivalent struggle.
[ Elegantly wrapped in rich purple paper and tied with a dark velvet bow, Tony will find several boxes containing:
- a pair of Givenchy sunglasses - a red & gold Versace robe - an app-controlled panty vibrator with the note: For when you get bored of your laptop at the Slip. - one gift voucher for permission to call Shadowheartβs breasts βboobiesβ. ]
[ Don't mind him waiting until he's not home to venture this one. Stupid to still be shy about anything, but somehow they've still never, just the two of them - ]
You're invited to Dean Winchester's funeral. Refreshments and a small catering spread will be provided afterward. Prepared remarks and stories are encouraged.
call, @strange
Date: 2025-08-26 06:40 pm (UTC)Tony picks up, and Stephen's speaking over him immediately, brusque and brief. ]
I need you.
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From:text β @shadowheart
Date: 2025-09-08 02:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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From:cw getting nsfw in here
From:nsfw all the way down now
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From:the night of the marking,
Date: 2025-09-14 10:24 pm (UTC)They make it back to the house without incident. By the time they lock the door behind them, Stephen feels like a trapped and tender nerve.
A moment spent in the kitchen - water poured and offered, shared - gives way to the walk upstairs to bed. Their bed. As strange as it was to share it that first night, clutching Tony's hand in the dark, that tension pales compared to this. Nothing is different. Everything has changed. He slips a few feet ahead once they reach the top of the stairs, stealing into the bedroom first, feeling every step of the walk to his usual side stretching out between them as he goes. Tugging his shirt off in a bid to follow routine, he doesn't notice when the collar tears. It's not until he drops his hands to the fastening of his pants that things finally start to go sideways.
His fingers, still a little bloody, catch and fumble - lose their grip. He pauses, blinks. Grabs up his discarded shirt to wipe his hands and tries again. Fails again. A third time. Dexterity, long-lost newfound friend, abandons him in an instant.
A breath shudders out of him. Frustrated, unsteady, Stephen stands there at the bedside, plucking fruitlessly at a knot he can't get a hold of, disbelief his final stubborn stop before coming undone. ]
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From:@strange, backdated to post-bond but still early-ish in the flock experience
Date: 2025-09-15 10:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:text @shadowheart
Date: 2025-09-29 05:41 pm (UTC)Do you ever see us leaving this place?
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Date: 2025-10-02 06:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2025-10-08 07:05 pm (UTC)[ Asks the girl texting him at 3 in the morning from an otherwise empty bed. ]
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From:@sgr
Date: 2025-10-11 05:49 pm (UTC)Apparently there needs to be a buddy system.
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From:backdated to post-j'accuse
Date: 2025-10-17 09:12 pm (UTC)They make it back. It's a building they've lived in for a little over a month now and the only home they've ever shared, and maybe it's this thought or maybe it's the sight of Tony's back as he goes to replicate that first bonded night's routine of water before bed, but the overworked tendon of Stephen's resolve snaps.
He reaches out, lost child in the dark, catches fingers into coarse wool to keep him from straying too far. Not knowing what to do with him once he's caught him but not wanting to leave him to pull away or turn to watch him crumple, Stephen closes the gap, brow dropped against his hair and reaching around to take a fresh handful of the knit at Tony's front, unsteady breath spilling down over his nape. ]
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From:@strange
Date: 2025-10-20 05:07 pm (UTC)But the only thing that can really make this worse is a lie. ]
Will you show me your whittling tools?
I'd like a tour of the smithy after, if you have time.
[ He doesn't apologise. If all this is as much nothing to worry about as every second thought he has demands of him it must be, then there's nothing to apologise for. Simple process of elimination. He thinks Tony will understand. ]
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From:text β @shadowheart
Date: 2025-11-06 10:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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From:@strange, vaguely whenever shadowheart mentioned this to him -
Date: 2025-11-08 06:55 pm (UTC)In case we get another power outage
[ Badumtsh but that's also the sound his heart is making as it crashes around in his ribcage ]
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From:@strange, after/during Bucky outreach
Date: 2025-11-09 09:03 pm (UTC)Where are you?
[ He could find out in a second, be there in that same amount of time. But this is a moment for caution, and so he asks. ]
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From:text β @shadowheart
Date: 2025-11-14 04:38 pm (UTC)I have something personal I'd like to give him, but--should we do something together?
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From:@strange
Date: 2025-11-19 08:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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From:@strange, backdated to like an hour after his network post went off
Date: 2025-12-03 11:13 am (UTC)[ Wasn't on his to-do list to play catalyst to a breakup, but what can you do. ]
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From:@goodsir
Date: 2025-12-04 06:24 pm (UTC)I hope this is not inappropriate, but I wished to ask how you are faring now that we are back at the mansion.
- Harry
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From:text @stacy (misfire)
Date: 2025-12-15 10:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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From:light nsfw link
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From:π delivery
Date: 2025-12-22 05:42 pm (UTC)- a pair of Givenchy sunglasses
- a red & gold Versace robe
- an app-controlled panty vibrator with the note: For when you get bored of your laptop at the Slip.
- one gift voucher for permission to call Shadowheartβs breasts βboobiesβ. ]
Merry Christmas, Tony.
Love,
Shadowheart π€
@strange
Date: 2026-01-19 02:09 pm (UTC)[ Don't mind him waiting until he's not home to venture this one. Stupid to still be shy about anything, but somehow they've still never, just the two of them - ]
Let me take you out somewhere next week.
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From:forward dating
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From:@shadowheart
Date: 2026-01-19 04:26 pm (UTC)Do you ever think about having more children, some day?
[ As if some day is guaranteed, when Shadowheart knows it isnβt. But she still wants to ask. ]
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From:@shadowheart
Date: 2026-02-08 10:22 am (UTC)(no subject)
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From:cuck chair cw??
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From:@dean
Date: 2026-02-11 04:36 pm (UTC)@shadowheart
Date: 2026-02-21 03:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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From:@shadowheart
Date: 2026-02-24 08:44 pm (UTC)I donβt like being awful to you.