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The Pen is Mightier

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The package was wrapped in gleaming green, with gold reindeers prancing across the shiny surface. A satin ribbon in matching gold was wrapped around the neat box and ended with a big pretty bow right on top. Stuck to the side of the box was a small card with beautiful cursive handwriting that only said, “Merry Pointless Human Traditions!

If the words weren’t ominous enough, the fact that Steve was completely sure that the box hadn’t been there just a minute ago was enough to make him wish he had his shield in hand. But he hadn’t expected to need his weapon on him when he had come down to the workshop to drag Tony away from his work for some Christmas Eve cuddles. The place had seemed empty, which had surprised Steve enough that he had checked twice to be sure that Tony wasn’t in the workshop’s bathroom. He had been on his way out again, a seed of worry settling in his gut, when a flash of green had caught his eye and there was this wrapped gift on a previously empty spot of the workbench.

There was a simple way to find out for sure. “JARVIS, when was this present placed on this table?”

“I…cannot say for sure, Captain. My systems seem to have been tampered with,” JARVIS said with a note of worry.

This was definitely a problem. Steve sized up the beautifully wrapped present. It was just about the right size for a toaster, but he doubted he would be so lucky to find a toaster in it. On a closer look, there were three small holes on the side of the box, seemingly punctured there after the box had been wrapped up. That was strange.

Then, the box started to shake.

Steve took a step back. It wasn’t vigorous shaking, just the occasional random thumps that moved the box, like something inside was trying to get out. Maybe there was a very small puppy in the box? God, Steve wished it was a very small puppy. But he could guess who this present was from and that maniac didn’t give small puppies as presents, not unless those small puppies would also morph into giant acid-spitting wolves later on.

There was something else niggling at Steve. Right at the edge of his hearing, he thought he could hear something…like a radio turned down to a very low volume.

“Sir, I detect a voice coming from the box, and if I am not mistaken—”

Oh, damnit. All the clues came together in the back of his mind and in three long strides, Steve was at the workbench. He ripped open the delicate wrapping paper and gently, lifted the lid of the box.

It was Tony, in a T-shirt with a colorful print and tight jeans, hair ruffled and cheeks red from shouting. It was Tony, all of eight inches high, standing in the middle of a gift-wrapped box, tiny hands planted on his hips and staring up in open mouth at Steve.

Even though Steve had opened the box in a hurry because he had his suspicions on what it would contain, he was still faring no better and was staring back with an open mouth as well at this tiny version of Tony.

“Oh thank god, Steve! I wasn’t sure where I was,” Tony said in a voice that sounded like him only at a much softer volume and slightly higher pitched for some reason.

Tony jumped to grip the side of the box and tried to pull himself out, almost tipping the whole box over instead. Holding the box steady, Steve offered Tony a hand which Tony promptly stepped on imperiously. When Steve lowered his hand closer to the top of the workbench, Tony jumped off his hand.   

Spinning around in his tiny form, Tony surveyed his domain, except now he was a very small person in what probably seemed like a rather oversized domain. Tony looked back at the box he had just escaped from, covered in its now torn open wrapping paper, probably reading the card in a glance.

Tony turned around and declared grimly to Steve, “I’m going to kill him.”

# # # # # #

“That’s it! Tell Thor that there’s no more clemency, we’re ripping apart that crazy antelope impersonator the next time we see him! I don’t care that Loki is his brother, no more leeway for him, we aren’t going to go easy just because—”

Normally, Tony on a roll would be hard to ignore. It wasn’t that his volume went up, because Tony rarely raised his voice, even when he was furious. But it was the way he would emphasize his words, how his hands jabbed at the air, dark eyes snapping with emotion. Tony on an angry rant was someone who commanded attention regardless of what anyone else was doing.   

But now, it actually took effort to focus on what he was saying despite those angry threats and familiar vehement gestures. His voice was at a low enough volume that Steve had to really concentrate to make out all those words. It also didn’t help that Tony was…well, really cute.

It was strange. It wasn’t like Tony’s face or body had changed. Tony looked exactly the same, only small. Much smaller. Small enough that he could fit right on Steve’s hand. He was like a little Tony doll, except he wasn’t made of plastic and he wasn’t lifeless. This was still Tony right in front of him, full of Tony’s vim and vigor, but shrunken down so that he was only eight inches tall. He was standing on a small stack of books on his workbench that he had climbed on like he wanted the extra height. Unfortunately, even with that extra height, he still had to look up at Steve who was sitting down on what was usually Tony’s chair.

“We can’t kill Loki the next time we see him, because we need him to restore you back to normal,” Steve pointed out reasonably.

It had been hours since he had discovered Tony, and the entire Avengers team had been down to the workshop to have their fill of staring at this tiny version of Tony — and to take photos, much to Tony’s displeasure — before dispersing to hunt down Loki. Steve had stayed behind because no one trusted Tony in tiny form not to get into bigger trouble than usual. No one really knew why Loki had done this, but it bore all of his trademarks even before Thor confirmed that was Loki’s writing on the card. Loki probably thought he was being very funny, and he had seemed extra irritated by some of Tony’s verbal jabs at him during their last battle.  

Tony waved his little fists up at Steve. “We’ll get him to change me back first, and then I’ll kill him with my bare hands.”

It was completely irreverent, but Steve found that tinny angry voice and those little waving hands adorable. Was this a side-effect of dating Tony Stark? Would all the bizarre results of their superhero life just come across as superhumanly cute instead?

“Why are you smiling? You’ve got that dopey look on your face that you usually get right before you kiss me. Wait, holy shit, are you turned on right now? I knew you had something of a size kink, but this goes beyond reasonable, Steve. I’m not going to let you fuck me with your dick like this, I would die. Although, maybe if I just licked you…but would you even feel anything? What if I wore a condom on my whole body—”

“Tony, oh my god, no, I wasn’t going to fuck you!” Steve interrupted before this conversation got any worse. “Or ask you to…lick me. I wasn’t thinking anything like that. I was more thinking that you looked, well, cute.”

Jabbing a finger in the air at Steve — really, why was that so adorable when it came from a tiny Tony, but so irritating when Tony was normal-sized? — and taking a step forward, Tony said in that little voice, “I’ll have you know that I’m not cute just because I’m— Oh, fuck!”

The books that Tony was standing on hadn’t been balanced properly, and stepping forward in his agitation, Tony had unbalanced the short stack. The first book was very thin and tipped forward with Tony still on it. His arms pinwheeling for balance, Tony fell forward off the stack. Even though the fall to the table would have been a short one, Steve’s heart leapt in his chest and he swooped in with an open palm, catching Tony gently on his open hand. He barely felt the weight of Tony’s body through his fingerless leather glove.  

Steve cried out, “Tony, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

With a careful finger, Steve touched Tony’s side, as if that would somehow help him check for injuries. Tony rolled over and sat down on his bum, gripping the tip of Steve’s finger with a hand.

“I’m fine, don’t fuss,” Tony said huffily, not looking Steve in the eye, but not letting go of his finger either.

Steve brought Tony up closer to his face, and stared. There was a light pink dusting across Tony’s cheeks and for all that Tony had proclaimed that Steve had a telling dopey smile, Tony also had on a familiar look…

“You’re the one who is turned on by this,” Steve said in wonderment as light dawned.

“I’m- I’m not,” Tony insisted, but he was also bending a little like he was trying to hide something.

Steve tipped his hand a little so Tony rocked back, legs falling open to reveal a visible bump in the line of his tiny well-fitted jeans. The flush across Tony’s cheeks deepened.

“What were you saying about my size difference kink? Do you want to instead talk about your manhandling kink?” Steve asked with a smile.

“I know it’s weird alright, shut up, we don’t have to talk about this,” Tony said with a hard glare upwards.

Tilting his head, Steve said, “What if I want to talk about it?” Then, he moved his finger and placed it upright between Tony’s legs, pressing forward very slightly to touch against the fabric of Tony’s pants.

Tony gasped, a tiny sound that was more felt through Steve’s palm than heard. “You can’t be serious…”

“Why not?” Steve asked. “We’ve seen and done stranger things in our line of work. And since everyone is out trying to find Loki as soon as possible, you’re probably not going to stay this size for long. It’s your only chance at it, if you’re interested.”

Blinking, Tony asked uncertainly, “And you’re interested?”

“It’s you, Tony. I’m always interested,” Steve said with a soft smile.

That seemed to cause Tony to shift in embarrassment, which pressed his crotch up against Steve’s finger. Tony let out a startled short moan. It wasn’t easy to feel at that size, but Steve thought he could feel a small hardness against his finger.

“Grind against me,” Steve murmured, and Tony groaned, obeying.

It was strange, watching a little Tony who could fit in his hand, thrusting his clothed hips against Steve’s finger. But he was definitely enjoying the sight.

“What do you like about this?” Steve asked curiously.

Tony grabbed the second knuckle of Steve’s finger for leverage and rubbed himself harder against Steve. “I— There’s something about being this size, sitting in your hand. I’m entirely at your mercy. You could do anything you want to me.”

He looked up, and even at this size, even being so small, Steve could still see the bright heat in them, recognize the lust and trust.

“You’re right, I could,” Steve said, cupping his hand a little so Tony could feel him more completely. “And right now? I want to see you take off your clothes, or maybe I’ll take them off for you.”

Tony groaned and thrust again, before shuffling back a little to lean against Steve’s slightly curved palm. He started stripping hurriedly, not even bothering to stand up to do it. Steve helped, feeling a little like an overgrown, clumsy giant as he lightly pinched tiny fabric between his fingers to pull them away as Tony wriggled out of them. Gripping the hem of Tony’s jeans, he helped pull them off as Tony raised his hips off Steve’s palm and gave Steve a provocative look. And of course, with the pants discarded, Tony was completely nude because he had been going commando. Stretched out completely naked on Steve’s hand, a pale contrast against the dark brown of Steve’s leather glove, it was even clearer that the situation was really turning Tony on. His cock, that looked very tiny but was proportional to the rest of his body, was hard and leaking. He arched his back and stretched his arms up, shamelessly on display for Steve.

On an impulse, Steve leaned down and breathed a warm gust of air over Tony’s pelvis area. Tony moaned and writhed at the sensation, suddenly panting for breath as his cock leaked even more. As if desperate for something to move against, Tony rolled over onto his front and started humping Steve’s gloved palm with rolling thrusts of his hips. Maybe the soft leather of his gloves provided just the right level of friction because Tony’s left hand came up to grip Steve’s curled pinkie in clear desperation. The sight of his bare round buttocks clenching and unclenching as he moved was surprisingly entrancing despite his size. It was like watching porn on a small screen, except he could feel Tony right there, rubbing off against his hand.

“What a sight,” Steve murmured, and touched his index finger lightly against Tony’s behind.

Tony moaned, pushing back against Steve’s touch before thrusting against his gloved palm again. He looked over his shoulder and said with a frown, “I can’t get you off in this size.”

Smiling, Steve said, “I think watching you get off is going to be enough this time. What do you want, Tony?”

“Oh god, I’m such a fucked up pervert,” Tony said, looking away, before admitting, “I want you to fuck me.”

“That’s going to be impossible,” Steve replied immediately, lifting his finger away in surprise.

“No, I mean, fuck me with something. Use something and fuck me with it, move me around and hold me,” Tony groaned out, his cheeks flushed again but his hips moved with his words, more aroused now at whatever he was imagining.

The scene that Tony was verbally spinning into life was entrancing. Steve scanned the workbench for something appropriate in size. The problem was that Tony’s workshop was always immaculately maintained so there wasn’t many items lying around outside for his use. There was Tony’s unreadable custom keyboards, a pair of goggles, a neat box with varying sizes of screws… Maybe a screw? No, Steve winced even at the thought of the threads on the screws. Then he noticed a slim red pen by the keyboard. He leaned over and picked it up, careful to keep his right hand with Tony on it steady. The pen was sleek, a retractable pen so the tip of the pen with ink on it could be safely withdrawn into the pen. In proportion to Tony’s current size, Steve thought that it would do. Maybe a little bit on the large size, but Tony would probably like that.

He held it out for Tony’s inspection, and watched as Tony nodded frantically with desire.

“Alright, give me a sec,” Steve said, reaching out for the pump bottle of lube in one of the drawers, a fixture in the workshop after their many bouts of unplanned sex there.

One handed, Steve managed to squirt out some lube and coated the end of the pen with it. Tony watched the proceedings with heavy breathing, still on his front as he reached back and started to finger at himself with saliva-wet fingers. Even in his tiny form, the sight of Tony opening himself up with his own fingers was painfully arousing. Within seconds, Tony was riding three of his own fingers, groaning with heartfelt pleasure. Steve had been semi-hard in his pants ever since he watched Tony’s body writhe on his palm but now, his erection was almost painful.

“I’m ready, come on,” Tony moaned, parting his legs wide.

Not one to turn down such an invitation, Steve pressed the wet head of the pen to Tony’s hole and pushed in very, very slowly and gently. Tony gasped and pushed back impatiently, moving between the hard intrusion and the supple warmth of Steve’s glove. As the widening end of the pen breached his rim, Tony gripped Steve’s finger and squeezed tight enough for even Steve to feel the pressure of those small hands.

“Oh god, Steve, fuck me, please,” Tony begged, trembling on Steve’s palm.

Clearly the situation was getting the better of him. Steve cupped his right hand, forefinger and middle finger brushing against Tony’s shoulder and working as a reminder to Tony that he lay in the middle of Steve’s palm. The reminder was well-received if the way Tony thrust frantically forward was any indicator. Starting out slowly, Steve worked the cone-shaped end of the pen in and out of Tony’s body. Tony braced himself against Steve’s hand, keeping his legs apart and arching his back to receive the thrusts of the pen more directly. It was fascinating, to see that pen work in and out of Tony’s small body, to watch the way that small butt bounced as Tony started to fuck himself against the pen and Steve’s hand in earnest.

Steve asked in a low voice, “Do you like it, Tony? Do you like being surrounded by my hand and that I’m moving you around to fuck you as I please?”

“Yes,” Tony said in little more than a sigh.

Out of curiosity, Steve twisted the pen, and Tony howled, fucking back harder.

“Yes, yes, there please— Oh, Steve, I can’t, I’m going to come— Please, uh—” He broke off into the short, breathy gasps that Steve knew meant Tony was going to come.

“Do it. Show me,” Steve directed, fucking faster with the little pen, drawing Tony closer to his chest, watching that little figure writhe in his gentle hold.

Tony arched sharply, curling his arm around Steve’s pinkie and pushing forward into Steve’s gloved palm before pushing back hard into the pen, over and over again in frantic motion. His body tensed, backside visibly clenching and unclenching repeatedly until he spent himself, body shuddering as his movements slowed.

Despite the lack of physical exertion, Steve felt breathless, like he was the one who had been thoroughly fucked over. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he gently pulled out the pen, drawing a little whimper from Tony who was still slumped in his hand. Steve put the pen down and cradled Tony close, feeling a sudden overwhelming rush of protectiveness for the precious cargo in his hold.

Tony rolled over onto his back, drawing Steve’s eyes to his semi-hard cock and parted thighs covered in smears of come, and demanded, “Come on me.”

It took a moment for Steve to parse the words and he raised his eyebrows in silent question.

“I know you want to,” Tony said, oozing confidence as he propped himself up on his elbows as if to put the expanse of his now-miniature body on display.

Well, if Tony was up for it, why not? Steve carefully unbuttoned and unzipped himself one-handed, pulling out his now straining cock. He knew he didn’t need much to come at this point, not after the display Tony put up, not after knowing that Tony felt safest in his hands. Literally so this time.

“Lower me down, I want to see,” Tony demanded.

Letting out a huff of laugh, Steve did as he was told. Tony was all of eight inches high and he was still telling people what to do. The head of Steve’s cock was wet with pre-come, the tip flushed from arousal after that spectacular scene.

“You’re so turned on, you’re leaking everywhere. Stroke yourself with it,” Tony told him, eyeing him from what should have been an intimidating distance. “Damn, your cock is huge from here, I’m not sure I can even wrap my arms around it. It’s still gorgeous though, a fucking work of art as always. From this angle, it’s even better because there’s so much of it.”

Steve stifled a laugh, knowing that if he laughed, it would just encourage Tony to wax poetic about his gorgeous gigantic cock. Obeying the order, Steve used his gloved hand to spread his copious precome around and slicked his cock up with it. He groaned at the feeling of the soft leather glove and his bare fingers against his erection, felt beads of precome leak out when he imagined it was Tony clenched tight around his cock. Steve squeezed and stroked, with Tony on his other hand, upclose and personal with Steve’s cock. He could feel his building excitement, knew he wouldn’t last long after the arousing show combined with that implicit statement of total trust from Tony.

All of a sudden, Tony leaned forward and rubbed his two hands against the head of Steve’s hard cock. Steve gasped at the sudden zing of sensation and felt his balls tighten, the aching pleasure coalescing at his cock.

“I’m coming,” he gasped, moving his right hand with Tony on it a little further away.

Then he clenched his left hand around his cock and pumped in earnest, hips pushing up to fuck into his own grip as his cock shot out a rush of hot wet come. A lot of the come fell onto Tony, splattering almost his entire body and the rest of Steve’s hand. Even through his haze of pleasure, Steve noticed when Tony plopped back down onto his backside with a gasp, surprised to be covered in come. Steve could only stare with a rather befuddled fascination as he breathed heavily and tried to calm his body down after the force of his orgasm.

Tony wiped a hand over one cheek, the rest of his face thankfully free of semen, and said, “That was literally raining come.”

“I’m so sorry,” Steve started, but Tony was already waving off his apology.

“How many people can say they were showered in come?” Tony pointed out. “I can cross it off my bucket list.”

“You had showering in come on your bucket list?” Steve asked, disbelieving.

“In your come to be precise,” Tony said with a grin, making it hard to tell if he was being serious or not.

Steve shook his head and smiled. “You’re so strange sometimes.”

Shrugging, Tony rubbed at the come on his shoulders and arms like he was soaping up with Steve’s come. “I have to be so I can deal with crazy magical shenanigans like this. Anyway, I like comeplay, you know that.”

“This is a bit more than usual,” Steve said, eyeing Tony up who was liberally splattered with Steve’s come. “Alright, I think you need to shower.”

“I’ll fall down the shower drain,” Tony said with a grumble.

But Steve made sure he didn’t. After cleaning himself up, Steve had set up the workshop’s sink for Tony’s bath, stoppering up the drain and filling it with warm water. He had even added some liquid bodywash to the water and it had foamed up well enough to look like a miniature bubble bath. Tony had splashed around in the sink, enjoying the warmth and bubbles in a way which he rarely had time to do. Steve had watched with his elbow on the edge of the sink and his chin propped on one hand. He dipped his free hand into the water occasionally, splashing Tony cheekily only to have Tony try to arm wrestle his digits.

After the bath, Tony had curled up in a nest of clean cloths — including Steve’s own T-shirt that he had sacrificed for the cause — and fallen asleep on the workbench. Even his snoring, which was much less peaceful when he was in full size, sounded adorable and tinny now. Tony’s sleeping face, with slightly parted lips and those tiny dark lashes fanned across his cheeks, was somehow even more adorable, which Steve hadn’t known was even possible.

Reflecting on the events of the past couple hours, Steve thought that Loki’s magical shenanigans weren’t so bad this time round. Whatever Loki’s intentions, it was kind of nice to get Tony as his very own Christmas present this year.