elcorhamletlive:

themol:

So I’m getting a little in to Halloween spirit with some fanart of Steve carving his favorite avenger on some pumpkins

And cute bonus

“Is that me?”

Steve freezes while grabbing some candy.

Tony almost trips over his bags on his way to the table filled with pumpkins. His luggage was abandoned on the floor when he arrived from his trip barely an hour ago, forgotten, as he focused on catching up on two weeks of missed Steve kisses.

The pumpkins were not a surprise. Steve had mentioned working on Halloween decorations, and Tony had wanted to make sure he had a lot of options on how to do that. Tony was never a huge fan of Halloween, but he loved an excuse to give Steve stuff, so, if Steve wanted pumpkins, he’d have pumpkins. Lots of pumpkins.

When Tony looked at the ones he’d carved already, he didn’t see anything too unexpected – a creepy smile, an owl, the Avengers logo. It was all very well done, though. He was about to open his mouth and compliment Steve on his craft when he saw it.

His face. On a pumpkin.

“Steve,” Tony repeats, ducking his head to look better. “Is that me?”

Steve’s posture stiffens. “No.”

It totally is.

“It is me,” Tony says, taking the offending pumpkin on his hands. It’s actually an eerily accurate rendition – Tony immediately recognizes his features, carved perfectly into the pumpkin, like a portrait. He turns to Steve. “You carved my face into a pumpkin.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” Tony lifts the pumpkin up to his head, trying to mimic its exact expression so that Steve has both Tony and pumpkin-Tony staring at him accusingly. “It’s incredibly accurate, actually – I should hire you to be the official designer of tattoos with my face. Don’t give me that look, I’ve seen things. Anyway,” He glances at the pumpkins table. “Where are the others? I wanna see them. Did you give Barton a bigger nose? Because if you didn’t, there’s still time to correct that.”

A flush spreads over Steve’s cheeks, and Tony is momentarily too delighted by it to think straight – it’s been months and he still can make that flush show up, he’s very proud of it – but then it hits him.

“Oh, my God,” Tony says, looking down at the pumpkin. “You only made me, didn’t you?” He imagines Steve carefully frowning towards the pumpkin, pink lips pursed as he leaned over the table and took a lot of care to carve every inch of Tony’s face. Steve, working on the pumpkin right after getting off the phone with him. Maybe looking at photos of him for reference and everything. “I was away for two weeks and you carved my face into a pumpkin.”

 “I didn’t mean to,” Steve gives him a sheepish smile. He’s been smiling so much on the past few months. Tony counts it as a personal victory, and his heart apparently counts it as an excuse to perform backflips. “It just… Well, happened.”

“This is ridiculous,” Tony declares, his own cheeks heating a little. “This – this is seriously the sappiest thing I’ve ever seen. You were – what? Sitting here immortalizing my likeness as if I’m your muse and you’re some tortured nineteenth Century artist. Out of lack of clay, you used a pumpkin.”

Steve ducks his head a little, that bashful grin still on his face. He shrugs. “I missed you.”

Tony’s kind of clutching the pumpkin to his chest, now.

“Ridiculous,” he repeats, coming closer. He uses one arm to hold the pumpkin and another one to hug Steve’s waist, resting his face against his shoulder blades. Steve smells so good, like shampoo and home. “You’re like the protagonist of a Halloween-themed Victorian novel. You should be embarrassed of yourself.” He tugs a little on Steve’s shirt. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Steve chuckles, turning his head to allow Tony to kiss those soft, plump lips. He’s all warm and sweet and delicious, and, damn, Tony thinks distantly, it has only been two weeks. It shouldn’t feel so good.

“I can just throw the pumpkin away if you want to,” Steve says when they pull apart, all flushed cheeks and bright eyes and that fond smile that’s gonna be Tony’s demise.

“No way. It’s mine now.” Tony holds his waist tighter, pressing a kiss on the back of his neck. And another one. It’s really hard to kiss Steve just once.

“If I made you one with the Iron Man head plate,” Steve asks, settling into the embrace, smile gaining that slight bit of snark that says he’s messing with Tony now. “Would you like it?”

“No.” Tony affirms, taking the chance to nuzzle his nose on Steve’s nape. “That’s lame.” He turns to stare at those blue eyes, the warmth of Steve’s body spreading all over him. “Let’s make one of you and make them kiss.”

They do.