#Avengers End Game

[scottxlogan]

"We're the Avengers, Man" Peter Parker (Spider-Man, Avengers Infinity War)

[asmutwriter]

My Angel (Part 1)

DESCRIPTION: You go about your day as usual. Getting some cash for your stolen items from the previous day. Little do you realise you may steal from the wrong person.

A/N - Header may change depending on how the story goes but for now I will keep it as this - enjoy

WORD COUNT: 2550

Next / Master List  

WARNINGS: Swearing, mentions of prostitution/sex, talk of low income, petty crime (stealing), a small fight if you squint (no one gets hurt), self defense

DISCLAIMERS

- This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

You let out a soft grumble. The thin sheet covering your body not doing much to keep you warm. The bare windows allowing the early morning sun to come in and tease your eyes open. You rub your face. Burrowing your head into the hard pillow.

"Come on. Get up" you mutter to yourself. Eyes stay shut as you push yourself up from the bed. Twisting your nude body to exit the bed covers. Finding your various clothing items you scatted on the floor from the events of last night. Picking up the small wad of cash your regular customer had set aside for you. Stuffing it into your bra before you bundle yourself with layers.

You walk in the brisk air. A breath leaving your lips in a cloud of fog. Ears turning red from the cold nipping at them. You'd forgotten your hat and now you were paying the price. Your hands were firmly planted into the pockets of your thick coat. Trying to gain the warmth from your palms and transfer it to your head. Plus you could hug your keys in your fist this way.

Sadly it was common for you to get cornered. You soon got used to dealing with it though. Your keys being a good choice. Couldn't be charged with a planned assault with keys. Knives and other weapons could be. But that's not the point. You get to your home. Unlocking the front door.

It wasn't much but its been your home for 4 years now. Nearly 5. Two rooms. One small one to the side for a toilet and shower. The other, bigger room. Containing a bed, fridge and sink. Once you lock the door behind you again you go over to the bed. Emptying your pockets (and bra) onto the brown blanket adorning the bed covers.

Two wallets, a necklace, plus the fifty you made last night. You sit on the bed. Going through the wallets. Giving an annoyed huff. "Great". You throw the leather onto the bed as well as the contents. "I've made an extra seven bucks and a Starbucks voucher". You give out an annoyed sigh. Bringing the item up. Looking at the faded cardboard. "What a shitty day" you mumble. Flopping down onto your bed. Head hitting the creaky mattress below. Fingers fiddling with the flimsy item still in hand. Picking at the rough edge of it. Glancing your eyes to the bedside clock. 7:07am. "Yep. A shitty day".

You give an annoyed groan. Your hands coming up and covering your eyes. "Fuck. Ok" you keep your eyes closed as you process your day out loud. "So bad start. Its ok. We have spare cash from last month that we can use for rent. We can go and get our-" you bring the card back up. Glancing at it through a squinted eye before flopping your hand back onto the bed. "Free coffee or hot beverage and decide what to do from there". You sit up. Bouncing to your feet as you grab a coat and remembering your hat.

Bounding to the door as you unlock it and swing it open. "Shit". You go back over. Grabbing the necklace too. The shiny silver being a harsh contrast to your grime covered fingers. Shoving the jewel into your coat pocket. "I can swing by Liam's before coffee. See how much this bad boys worth". You go out to the street. Locking your door behind you. Turning once again to start your confident stroll your foot meets a rather large and muddy puddle. Splattering up your leg. You stand still. Annoyance coursing through your veins. Giving out a shaky breath as you try to remain calm.

"I can see Liam after coffee" you correct yourself. Shoving your keys into your pocket, but making sure you have a firm grip around them as you stroll down a few blocks. Coming to the coffee shop in question. Going inside and getting your free beverage. They were so busy they ran out of clean mugs. So you settle for a large take out cup.

You find the only space you can in the small and mildly crowded shop. Briefly paying mind to the elderly woman you sit next to. The seat to your left being free still as you sip your drink and do some people watching. Looking out the large window in front of you. Completely in a world off your own it takes you a little while to process that someone is actually talking to you. Turning you meet a pair of blue eyes. A soft smile adorning his defined features. "Hmm?" you say softly. He smiles more.

"Can I sit here?" He repeats. You note his drink and food in hand. Giving a nod as you smile back up at him.

"Of course". He sits beside you. Watching as he sits down. You tilt your head slightly. He attempts to take a sip of his drink. Seeing the regret flash through his eyes as he burns his tongue. You try not to laugh. Giving a small smile as you start speaking. "I know most of the locals yet you I don't recognise. You must be new". He gives a small chuckle. "I'm Mia". He turns to look at you as you outstretch your hand. Taking it in yours.

"Steve"

"So what is a guy like you doing out here then, Steve?" He gives a small chuckle again. Shaking his head slightly.

"I'd rather not get into that at the moment" He faces you again. Eyes scanning your features. "How long have you lived here for?"

"What made you think I live here?"

"You said you recognise the locals. Only people who live in the area recognise locals. Its either that or a poor attempt at a pick up line". Now its your turn to give out a soft laugh. Sipping your coffee.

"Could it be both?" He smiles. Turning his head back to look out the window. "I've lived in the area for five years now. Well, five next week". His brow scrunches slightly. Turning to look at you.

"You are either way older then you look or you moved here when you were very young". You smile. Resting your head on your palm as you continue to look at him.

"I moved here when I was 17 but we don't need to get into all of that". You turn to look out the window. Drinking your drink as fond memories of your past flutter through your mind. Before everything turned dark and gloomy. You mentally shake yourself. Turning back to smile at him.

"So you're 22?" you give a small nod. Smiling as you quickly dart your eyes to his lips.

"Smart man". He smiles at the compliment. His eyes steady on yours. "How old are you then Mr Steve?" He gives a low chuckle.

"Too old for you" you smile. Turning back to your drink as you down the rest of your beverage.

"You're probably right. Besides-" Watching as you plop the now empty drink down onto the table. "You seem way to nice for me" you smile as you look at him. He turns his head. Looking at the table as a small smile and laugh escapes his lips. Your eyes quickly dart over his features. Giving out a small sigh before planting your hands onto the table.

"Right. Work calls" You push yourself up with your arms. He watches as you stand. "Its been lovely chatting with you but I got to go and make some money" he gives a low chuckle. Nodding as he smiles at you.

"Good luck" he says. A genuine kindness in his voice. You smile back. Picking up your empty take out mug you squeeze past him. Going to the bin. And hand going into his pocket. Swiping his wallet and pushing it up your sleeve as you head to the bin. Chucking it in before squeezing back past.

"Hope to see you around Mr Steve" he gives a small nod. Giving a small wave to you as you head out the door. He watches you out the glass window as you start walking to Liam's.

Going a few roads away from the cafe. Coming to a dodgy looking house. You go up. Giving it three hard knocks before stepping back. A few moments pass before the door opens. A scrawny man with a tattoo on his neck opens. White wife beater and grey sweatpants. He smiles as he removes the lit cigarette from his mouth.

"Mia!" he smiles at you. Eyes going so gracefully to your chest. "What do I owe this pleasure?" You smile. Bringing your lip between your teeth as you reach into your pocket. Taking out the necklace from your pocket. His eyes stop staring at your boobs as they go to your hand. Giving out a whistle as he nods.

"How much for this?" He places the smoke back into his mouth. Outstretching a hand. You place them into his palm. His hands also a harsh contrast of dirt to the delicate jewellery.

"20"

"Fuck off"

"Thats the best I can do"

"Its worth atleast 100". He gives a small chuckle. Looking back up at you.

"30"

"80"

"40"

"I ain't going lower then 50. I'm not an expert with jewels but those-" you motion to the item in his grasp. "Those are worth the big bucks. The kinds that kings and queens wear". He gives another soft chuckle. Leaning against the door with his back as he pushes it open. Grabbing out a wad of cash. Counting out the money loudly.

"$50" he hands you the money. You smile. Taking it from his hand. Undoing the zip of your coat slightly and managing to shove the money int your bra. His eyes watch as you zip the coat back up. "I'll give you an extra 30 if you come inside". You give a scoff. Shoving your hands back into your pockets. If you did then you would be able to pay off the next couple of weeks rent. Plus have some left over.

"50". He smiles. Hand still holding the roll of cash. He takes out the money you asked. Handing it to you. You go to take it. He moves the hand away. Smiling at you.

"100 if you let me do it raw".

"No way. I ain't risking that" He gives a chuckle. Nodding as he hands you the money. Moving aside as he motions with his hand for you to enter. This wasn't your first time doing this with Liam. You knew where to go to find his bedroom. Plus you knew what he liked so the ordeal was over and done with after ten minutes. Putting your clothes on as he rests in bed. Throwing your coat back on. 100 dollars firmly wedged between your bra and skin. You wish him farewell as you head out the door.

The smell of his cigarette smoke stuck to you. God you would need a shower when you get back. Thankfully you could afford the bill to have a nice hot shower so you deemed it as a necessity. You start to head back to your home. Walking down the alleyway. The one that was normally empty besides the odd drug deal. Today it was empty though. Your lucky day. You smile as you head to your home. Unlocking and opening the door.

You reach into your pocket. Taking out the wallet from your earlier swipe. Opening it. You think its strange that he didn't have an ID or anything but didn't think to much of it. Your mind was set of the cash. your gleeful smile turns to a frown as you open it up fully. "Fucks sake" you mutter. You take out the single note. Twenty bucks. Feeling the little zip part of the item and opening it. 43 cents. "Great. Handsome man is a broke bitch". You chuck the wallet onto the bed with the cash and coins.

"I really need a shower". You sniff your coat. "Ew" you mutter. Smelling strongly of cigarettes you shrug it off. Going and pulling the curtains shut to your main room. Darkness other then the small light emitting from the bathroom. Reaching into your bra as you take out the wad of cash. Also throwing that onto the bed before starting to strip. Chucking your clothes into the dirty pile on the floor. You'll take them to the washer dryer tomorrow. Right now you needed a quick shower. Hopping in. Letting the hot water stream down your body. Washing the smoke out of your hair before getting out.

Towel drying yourself before heading into the bedroom living area. Grabbing some clean clothes out the drawers. Pants then bra. Socks. Then shirt. You go to put a leg into your jeans when you hear a noise. Your front door. The door handle jiggling. Hearing people talk outside. Two voices you think. You quickly pull your jeans up. A difficult feat but you manage it due to the rushed nature.

You try and be quiet as you go over to the door. Picking up a bat from beside your bed. Going over and standing beside the door. Trying to look intimidating. You go to bring the bat down as soon as it opens. A hooded figure. The person has quick reflexes. Grabbing the bat and pulling it. Disarming you as it gets thrown the into the hallway outside your apartment. You don't hesitate as you bring a foot up. Squaring it into their stomach. Winding them as they fall into the wall by the door. The person behind goes to grab you. Catching your wrist before you can react to anything else.

You twist your hand. Moving it to break from their grasp. Exchanging your wrist for theirs as you take a tight hold of their arm. Other going to their upper arm as you bring them up and over your shoulder. Knocking them onto the floor beneath you. You turn. Going into the hallway. Grabbing the bat from before and holding it up. Shutting the door as you stand by it. Eyes frantic as you look at the two bodies on the floor.

"Who the fuck are you and why are you in my home?"

"I know that voice" a female says. Obviously winded. She was the one you kicked. Your turn your head between the two of them.

"Answer my damn question or I'll start swinging"

"Wait. Wait a second" the other voice - a male voice - says below you.

"Who the hell are you?" There's a small pause. Too long. You bring the bat back. Swinging it against the wall. "Answer me"

"Mia?" The female voice says. You just can't quite out a face to the voice.

"Mia?" the male mimics. Almost disbelief. You recognise that voice too but are again unable to pinpoint who they belong to. You give out a sigh. Still on high alert and adrenaline. You reach behind you. Turning on the light. Turning back. Seeing your good friend Natasha bracing herself against the wall. The man you met earlier lying beneath you. You drop the bat. Making them both flinch as it hits the floor.

"Fuck"

Next

TAGS

@wonderlanddreamer

[sad-trash-hobo]

If you really think about it. Bucky went missing at the end of winter soldier, and then 2(?) Years later, they found him during civil war. Then he immediately goes into cryofreeze after that. Sam and Steve go on the run for 2 years, and then come back to Wakanda for infinite war, and Steve sees bucky again. But was that the first time he saw Bucky again? And then Bucky gets snapped and is gone for 5 years, and then he comes back, and almost immediately, Steve goes back in time.

So, if Steve did visit Bucky in Wakanda, assuming that Bucky was under for even just 6 months, that's really only 1 and a half years that Steve could visit him. And in that amount of time Steve just? Got over the fact that Bucky was back. After finding Bucky and going into shock over the realization and letting Bucky kill him, because Steve didn't know he was gonna live, he fully expected to die, and then he just. Maybe visited him? And then lost him again and was depressed over it and then finally got Bucky back, but there's no big scene for their reunion. I'd even say that his reunion with Sam was more important, and I love Sam, but focusing on Bucky right now.

Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were inseparable on both school yard and battle field, Bucky was the only commando to give his life in service. And then per Steve's timeline, not even 10 years later, maybe 3 years for Bucky, he just. Leaves Bucky.

[irondad3000]

EXCUSE ME AVENGERS ENDGAME WAS NOT FIVE YEARS AGO STFU

[papersniffer]

Oh, just that one time Tony Stark was trying to figure out Time Travel and nothing else worked till he tried a Mobius Strip. Perfection!

[willowsfanarts]

A million dreams for the world we're gonna make - latest artwork

[bearsinpotatosacks]

If Night at the Museum and Marvel take place in the same universe (because Khonshu's in both), that means that the snap took place in NATM. My question is, do the museum exhibits class as a life, because they come to life at night? Does that mean half of the museum disappears? Or would that only happen if the snap took place at night?

[semetarycosplay]

I am not one for female characters, but Scarlet Witch is honestly so wonderful and powerful. I love Wanda dearly. She is such a complex character who is definitely flawed, but does what she thinks is best.

Photos: Lost Stars Imaging

[cassedyevihtt]

INFINITY WAR Spiderman dust scene analysis: Why the fuck did it hurt so much?

Okay so hello, welcome, we are going to understand that one painful scene. Here is a video of my initial reaction: (Everything here will obviously include spoilers)

So back to analysing this bitch:

This movie as whole is a bit of dystopian masterpiece. It starts with two pretty known people dying and one being left floating out in space. With that start anything can happen. Anyone of our heroes could die. And here we have this OP man Thanos walking around collecting little gems so he can wipe out half the universe. The stakes are high and the movie keeps reminding us of that.

So this "wipe out half the universe" thing reminds us of danger all the time. We know something might happen. It's a writing phenomenon called "bomb under the table" you know it's there but you don't know when or if it'll go off.

And when Thanos snaps his fingers we see shit go down. We see all these side characters and all these heroes silently fade away. We see everything through Tony's eyes, but we think "surely they won't kill off the most important/loved ones" but the the king of wakanda fades and suddenly we hear;

"Stark, I don't feel so good"

and we think NO. NOT HIM. because guess what? Tony dragged this boy in and after that Tony has always been responsable and been there to save his ass. In Civil War Tony let the spider fight, and get hurt, but he also set a boundry that the spider was too much hurt and was done for that day. Even then we see how Peter wants to push on to impress Tony.

Later Tony flies Spiderman out of the water he could've drowned in and makes him warm again.

Even after that Tony helps Parker with the ship that Parker tries to keep together with his webs but can't.

in the start of infinity war we see Peter on his way to work and impress until he physically can't breathe. He falls, but Tony got his back and gives him his Robo suit.

Point is we see how competent and protective Tony is to Peter. He somehow always manages to find and protect the younger hero. The younger hero always thinks that he doesn't need all that help and that he always has more to show and more to give.

So towards the end of Infinity war when we hear Parker seriously admit that he doesn't feel good. That he doesn't have more to give and that he is afraid and WANTS Tony to save him. That hurts because suddenly we are reminded that he is a teenager. A child. A person that might be able to protect himself and stand alone, but not all the way, not all the time. And this time Peter admits that and wants that help that Tony could give him, except in this case he can't. The resourcefull mentor and hero Tony Stark/Iron man is rendered helpless. he has been able to help so many times, but not this time. not the time when the threate would mean certain death.

Tony can only watch and listen as the kid disintegrates in his arms.

Summary: how to make a good death scene/all is lost scene Mentor x Student.

-risk we knew all along (gun under table): Peter could die/get seriously hurt

-risk get avoided most of the time cuz Mentor: Tony is there to save him though, no matter what that kid finds himself in

-breaking character: This confident mentor character stark that is very good at what he does is suddenly rendered completely helpless as he fails and the one he swore to protect dies. The lively, eager, naive and happy go lucky person layes down this "i want to prove myself cuz im strong" thought and instead replaces it with; "pls help me, i dont want this to happen" the total oposite of what he normally does.

-make the bad thing seem impossible (storywise) "how could a story abt heroes end with them losing?" and then make it happen anyway.

[skreenii]

RIP Tony Stark day 😞😞😞

[asmutwriter]

My Angel (Part 3)

DESCRIPTION: whilst trying to find a new sofa you bump into an old friend. One you really didn't want to meet

WORD COUNT: 2948

From beginning / Previous / Next / Master List  

WARNINGS: swearing, female sanitary items, stealing, pregnancy (not reader)

DISCLAIMERS

- This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

You helped Steve find some new clothes. Going out to some thrift shops. Letting him wonder round and pick out some shirts and jeans and such. Using the rest of the money to buy a sofa. You had $135 left. "Where are we looking for exactly?" He questions.

"The furniture shop. The second hand one. It has some good items there. I went when I was first trying to furnish my home". You'd both been walking for a while now. He keeps trying to hide his face from passers by. Unsubtly so. "Can you try and be a bit more obvious please?"

"I'm worried someone will recognise me". His eyes quickly glance to you. "I'm trying to do this for the both of us". You roll your eyes. On your walk your eyes catch the light of a store. A convenience store. You stop in your tracks. Bringing a hand up. The back of it hitting the middle of his chest. His eyes go down to your hand. Then back to your face.

"I need a drink. Want one?" He shakes his head. "Wait here". You shoot him a small smile before going into the store. The cashier tilts his head up from the newspaper he's reading. Giving you a small smile to which you return it. A gentlemen. Noted. You go straight to the sanitary isle. Picking up a box of tampons. Looking up you make it clear what you grab. He gives a small cough. The sanitary item causing a mild discomfort. Enough for him to politely look away.

Walking past a stack of sunglasses. Smiling as you try a pair on. Looking at yourself in the mirror. Using the mirror to see his reflection. Still looking at his paper. Hand going and grabbing a baseball cap and shoving it into your hoodie pocket as you look at your self. Before taking off the glasses. You put them back on the rack. Hand reaching down and grabbing a different pair. Shoving them into your back jean pocket. You go to the drinks. Taking out a coke. Going to the counter as you place the coke and tampons down. He looks. Giving you a small smile.

"Time of the month. Son of a bitch snuck up on me". He gives a small chuckle. Obviously uncomfortable with your openness about your womanhood. Meaning he doesn't look too hard at you as he rings in the two items. Making you able to hide the stolen goods on your body better. He motions at the price. Taking out the amount of cash you have and handing it to him. Thanking him before you walk out. Shoving the items into your pocket.

Steve is leaning against a wall. Head down. Hood up. Peering up when you stand by him. "Lets go".

"How long does it take to buy a drink?"

"I am trying to help your ass". Reaching into your various pockets and taking out the items. "Now put these on". He hesitates slightly before talking.

"Did you steal those?" He speaks in a hushed tone.

"Do you want me to answer truthfully or do you want me to say the answer that'll get you to shut up?" You look at him. His blue eyes meeting yours as he clenches his jaw. You tilt your head as you give him an innocent smile. Letting him take the items from your hand and putting them on. "Good. Start walking" you say. Turning so your sideways to him. Striding as he soon follows. Walking beside you. Both travelling the rest of the way in silence.

Finding a small and old looking furniture shop. "I knew it was here somewhere!" You gleefully speak out. He looks at you. Then at the dingy shop.

"Really?"

"Yes". You look in through the shop window. A young woman - a little older then you. You move out of her line of sight again. You look at your hand. Taking the fanciest ring and moving it from your thumb to your ring finger. Moving your hand back down as you look at him. "Follow my lead". You take his wrist in your hand. Dragging him into the shop. You smile at the keeper. She looks at you. A smile coming over her lips as she meets your gleeful face. "Hello!" you bound over. Dragging Steve with you.

"Hey. What can I help you with?" She speaks. Her tone meeting yours in its happy nature.

"Well..." You rest a hand on Steve's chest. Leaning into him fully. "We recently got engaged-" Her eyes go to your hand splayed on the mans chest. Her eyes suddenly beam with excitement. "And hubby here said we could buy a sofa"

"Oh my goodness! First off congratulations. I love seeing young love". She gives a small and happy sigh. "Secondly, what do you have in mind?"

"Sadly we have a tight budget so anything under 130 dollars would be ideal" you smile. Moving your hand to his arm. One hand around his wrist still as the other moves from his chest to his bicep. She smiles still. Faltering slightly when you tell her your budget cost though.

"Well you've come to the right place" she comes from behind the counter. "What do you have in mind? Certain fabric or anything?"

"Something soft. Nice cotton or something similar would be good. Or silk maybe" she nods. Smiling at you both. Clasping her hands together.

"Let me show you what we have on offer" she starts walking. You follow. Dropping Steve's arm as he comes behind you in pace. Being taken to another room. A couple of sofas dotted about. "The prices are labelled on the side". She reaches down. Showing an example of a label. All the sofas looked... bad. Used. Goodness knows what some of the stains are. You can't see Steve's eyes but you can tell he's disgruntled by the situation. He feels tense as he stands slightly behind you.

"What about that one?" he motions. A flowery print one. Relatively clean.

"Oh thats a nice one. Its new in the shop. It is on the pricer side though"

"How much pricer?"

"Let me have a little look for you" she goes over. Her hands coming up in a t-rex style as she dances over. "$250"

"Oh that is very much out of our price range." You say. Looking around at a few others from the spot. She looks at you two. Then back at the sofa.

"I could see if I could do a discount if you'd li-". You shake your head. Giving her a smile.

"Oh don't be silly. We'll settle for something more our price range" You turn to Steve. Giving him a smile. "Right honey?". He nods. His eyes darting to yours before going back to the other woman's.

"Thank you though ma'am". She gives a small nod. A small smile over her lips.

"I'll let you two shop". She smiles. "I'll be upfront if you need me". She turns. Going back to the front of the store. You turn to the broad man.

"Any others suit your fancy?" He gives out a sigh. Eyeing up a couple of items.

"I like that lamp". You follow his gaze. Giving a small scoff as you see a vintage looking light. Probably 1930's or 40s.

"I struggle to see how you'll sleep on it. But if that's what you want to spend the money on". He gives out a chuckle. Heading to a few different sofa's. Quickly discarding them due to price or other unsanitary reasons. Going over to a different sofa. It looks faded but doesn't have anything ominous looking about it. He picks up the label. "How much?" You question.

"150". You give a small nod.

"Do you still have the twenty on you?" he looks at you. Feeling into his pocket. Nodding when he finds his wallet. "Perfect. We have 130 plus your twenty". He gives a smile. "I'll go and grab her". You saunter past him. Going up to the lady. You lightly place your palms on the desk. She gives you a smile.

"Did you and your fiancé find one you like?" You nod. Smiling at her. She follows you as you lead her to the item. "Oh this is a lovely one. Been in the shop for such a long time but no one seems to have taken it yet. Think its because the fabric is rather... in your face. Having said that it is sturdy and durable. Plus you can always get different fabric and relay it if that bothers you". You chuckle. Going over and standing by your fake husband-to-be. She takes the label. Looking at you two. "Are you aware of the price?" You nod. Giving her another smile.

"Yes. We recounted the money we brought with us and we actually have enough". She nods. Looking back at the sofa.

"How are you taking it home? Are you aware of our dropping off system with furniture?" You nod.

"Yes I am aware. We don't live that far from here so we will just carry it"

"Are you sure?"

"Sadly renting out the drivers system is out of our budget. Its ok though" you place a hand on Steve's arm. "Why else does this guy work out if not to help me move furniture?" You look at him. Giving him a mischievous smile. He is not as amused. Staring you down with a death glare. Not that you can see it. But goodness you could feel the daggers he's giving you. Quickly forcing it away as he looks back at the cashier. She gives a soft chuckle. Taking a small step forward as she lowers her voice slightly.

"You know... I have a van you could borrow. Free of charge"

"Oh goodness I couldn't". She shakes her head. Motioning towards Steve.

"Though I am sure you are very capable of carrying it I would feel a lot happier with you driving my van".

"Thank you miss. Are you sure?"

"Oh please. I'm a sucker for love. And this is true love right here". He chuckles. "Come to the front and I'll ring it through for you then we can get it to your home". You follow her up to the front of shop. Watching as she types in 130 into her machine. You go to question her but she shakes her head. Giving you a playfully dumb look.

"I was born with dyslexia so I really struggle to read numbers correctly - the sofa was $130 right?" She smiles at you. A knowing smile. You smile back. Giving a small nod.

"Yes. Yes that is correct. Thank you". You reach into your bag. Getting out the cash. Handing her the money. She doesn't bother to check it. Trusting you to have paid her the correct amount of the semi devious scheme. You attempt to help Steve move the sofa. Him mainly doing the work though. She gives you her keys. You get into the drivers seat. Him sat next to you as you smile at her.

"I'll be back quicker then the shake of a lambs tail" she chuckles. Giving a small nod as you start to drive away. "She was nice". You say. Watching her in the wing mirror. He nods in agreement. Looking out the window as you drive back to your home in silence.

Pulling up you again try to help him move the furniture item. Failing as he easily brings it up to your apartment. Putting it into the small room. You do help by moving some of the furniture around. Allowing their to be space for him to chuck it. He slumps down onto the new sofa. Leaning his head back. Breathing heavily from the heavy lifitng.

"You rest here. I'll drive the van back". You say. Taking the keys out.

"You sure you're happy to?" You nod.

"Why wouldn't I be?" You give a small smile. "You know you can lose the hat and glasses now". He gives a small chuckle. Nodding as he takes the items off. Letting his short hair and blue eyes be revealed again. "I know I'm not meant to ask any questions but..." He tilts his head to look at you.

"What?"

"Your 'wanted' image - do they describe you as clean shaven and short hair?" He thinks for a moment.

"I guess they would yeah". You nod. Motioning at the items in his hand.

"Maybe ditch these items and go for a more naturally disguising look. Facial hair and such". He gives a small nod. A small smirk coming over his lips as he looks down. "Just a suggestion".

"I'll keep it in mind". He looks back up. A smile still playing his lips. You smile. Throwing the keys into the air before catching them.

"Give me 10 minutes and I'll be home. Maybe 20. There should be a clean sheet and blanket somewhere in that cupboard" you motion to a small cubby hole. He looks at the wall then back at you. You go to the van. Getting into the drivers seat and heading back to the place.

Pulling up and setting it where you found it. Getting out and locking it up. Going to the front of the shop. Seeing a customer ahead of you you patiently wait behind them. Looking around at the other items. She turns. Catching your eye as you go to smile politely at her. Your forced social smile turning into one of actual shock as you see someone you haven't seen in about 6 years.

"Oh my god Mia!" she exclaims

"Riley!" you say. More shock then excitement in your voice as she hugs you close to her. Your hands stick out. Unsure of where to put them before she moves away from the embrace.

"What have you been up to? I didn't realise you lived around here?" You shake your head.

"I've been all over the place. Only been here a few years. I found a nice apartment not too far from here"

"Oh that is lovely". Her brows furrows as she waits for you to carry on the conversation. Eyes nesting onto yours. Bringing your hand out before hitting it onto your upper thigh. Sliding it into your hoodie pocket as you speak.

"What about you?"

"Oh well - me and Finn have recently gotten pregnant! Its why I'm here actually. Looking for a crib for the little rascal". She rests a hand on her stomach

"Holy fuck congrats!" She smiles. Looking down slightly at the pleasantries. "That's amazing news".

"We've been trying for a couple of years now and its finally happened so - yay!"

"Oh I'm so happy for you Riley. That is really lovely news" She nods. Smiling at you. You hear a small ding.

"Speaking off. That is likely the husband". She reaches into her bag. Taking you the phone before she opens the message. "Yep". She quickly scans the text. Smiling slightly at the message before shoving her phone back into her bag. "I should be doing what I need to do then head back" she looks at you. Giving a smile.

"I should probably give these back too". You hold up the keys in your left hand. Her eyes grow wide. "What?" Your face fills with alarm at her sudden change in character.

"Is that a wedding ring?" she beams. Looking between you and the hand. Your eyes dart.

"Umm well..." Your eyes look. Seeing the kind woman who sold you a cheap sofa was in ear shot of your conversation. Fucks sake. "Its an engagement ring". You lie. Her phone pings again. Then again. She takes her phone out. Quickly skimming them once again before she looks at you.

"Ok well I need to meet this man and we need to meet up and catch up over some drinks. Non alcoholic for me obviously but you and your fiance can drink right? Does this tomorrow night work for you?"

"Damn no it doesn't I've got... stuff"

"What about next Friday instead? Would that work around any plans?" You know if you keep postponing she'll only keep hassling. So you give a nod. Shutting your eyes quickly. Opening them to meet her expecting onces.

"That works fine" you speak through gritted teeth.

"Oh well thats just wonderful!" Her cheery tone grates against your ears. "I should go and find a crib. I'll see you next week. Oh sugar". She turns. Picking up a pen from the side. Taking your hand as she writes her address and phone number down onto your forearm. Putting the pen back down. Her phone starts ringing at this point.

"See you then" she speaks. Glee in her body as she turns. Striding away to find a crib for her unborn child. Watching as she disappears into the backrooms of the shop. You go over to the woman behind the counter. Faking a smile as you hand her keys back over.

"An old friend of yours?" you give a small nod. Your smile faltering as she talks. "Oh that's lovely. I enjoy meeting friends randomly". You give another nod. Running a hand through your hair as you force your smile to stay on your face. She goes to speak again but you cut her off.

"I'm sorry I've got to head back for my fiance. Thank you so much for the car again". She nods. Sad but understanding of your tone shift.

"Oh ok... Anytime. I'm glad you found the sofa meant for the both of you". You give a nod. Turning as you walk the few blocks back to your home.

Previous / Next

TAGS

@wonderlanddreamer

[ablueboombox-be]

Avengers Assemble • we are the heroes • "we won Mr. Stark" | Endgame (FMV) | Marvel (Måns Zelmerlöw)

[mischievous-thunder]

Whose hypnosis is more effective? Logan's probably losing be it willingly or unwillingly.

[amethystarachnid]

Can you write for me Amnesia trope from Marvel Bingo with Tony/Fem reader? Tony is a little injured after a mission and he loses his memory, when reader is going to see him (wife or girlfriend) he won't recognize her but he'll immediately fall for her all over again 🥺 she thinks it's absolutely cute that he didn't recognize her but soon he'll recover his memory and blush so hard when reader shows him his videos of him all smitten by her hahahaha ❤️ and Tony saying he'll alwyas fall for her 🥺 (some spicy kisse maybe?)

ALWAYS

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.4k

ᯓ★ Summary: Because of an injury Tony temporarily loses his memories of you, his wife, and you're determined to make him gain them back. Do you really need to do so when he has already fallen back in love with you?

ᯓ★ TW(s): memory loss and clingy Tony

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The beeping. It’s the first thing you notice when you step into the hospital room—the insistent, steady beep of the heart monitor that Tony’s hooked up to. It’s steady, strong, and for that, you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The smell of antiseptic stings your nose, reminding you that, despite Tony's resilience, he's as vulnerable as any of them in situations like these.

The mission had gone wrong in ways you didn’t see coming. Stark Industries had developed tech that a rival group decided they wanted to “borrow”—forcefully. What was supposed to be a simple extraction turned into a messy firefight. But, like always, Tony had pushed you to evacuate, promising he’d be right behind you. Instead, an explosion threw him from his suit, leaving him vulnerable to the final assault. He had barely gotten out before going down hard.

Now, you’re here, nerves raw and trembling as you hover by the doorway, watching him.

Tony is sitting up, but he seems…distant. Disoriented, maybe. His eyes are half-lidded, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he’s trying to make sense of something in the middle distance. It’s unnerving because you’re used to a Tony whose attention burns, even when he’s exhausted, half-buried in his lab, or just waking up. He sees everything.

But not this time. And for some reason, he doesn’t see you.

“Mrs. Stark?”

You turn as the doctor enters, offering you a sympathetic look. It’s a look that’s meant to ease you into news you know you don’t want to hear.

“Is he…awake?”

The doctor nods, gesturing you toward the chair by Tony’s bed. “He’s stable. His vitals are strong. The issue, Mrs. Stark, is that there appears to be some level of memory loss.”

The words clang in your ears, foreign and cold, completely out of place in the world you’ve built with Tony. “What do you mean by ‘memory loss’?”

She sighs, glancing at Tony before she speaks. “Memory loss is complicated. From what I’ve gathered, Mr. Stark has retained his long-term memories and most of his professional knowledge. But, due to the trauma and subsequent disorientation, there’s a block on more recent events…particularly in his personal life.”

Your stomach drops, and you take a deep breath, fighting to keep your voice steady. “He doesn’t remember me, does he?”

“I’m afraid not,” she says softly. “In many cases, memories return with time and familiar cues. Given Mr. Stark’s particular cognitive resilience, I have high hopes for recovery. But until then, he may…struggle with recognition and personal connections.”

You nod slowly, trying to take it all in. In all the battles, the missions, the threats, this is somehow scarier. Because it’s not just his body that’s wounded; it’s your life together that’s fractured.

When the doctor leaves, you take a step forward, but your feet feel leaden, hesitant. And for once, you don’t know what to say. This isn’t just Tony after a rough mission. This is your husband, and he doesn’t know you.

Finally, you muster the courage and approach the bed, offering him a soft, tentative smile. “Hey there, stranger.”

He looks up, his gaze sharp but confused, and something in his eyes flickers with a shade of recognition—a spark that leaves you hoping. But then he blinks, and it’s gone.

“Do I, uh, know you?” His tone is polite, curious, but there’s a guardedness to it, as if he’s unsure if he’s supposed to recognize you. You don’t miss the way his eyes dart over you, taking you in, and a pang of sadness tugs at your heart as you realize he’s assessing you the way he might a stranger.

You laugh softly, forcing down the lump in your throat. “You could say that. I’m…” You hesitate, wondering if it’s too much to say it outright, but the words slip out before you can stop them. “I’m your wife.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he stares at you, stunned. “My wife?”

“Yes.” You smile, more gently this time, as though that will ease him into the idea. “For almost three years now.”

Tony blinks, and you can see his mind racing, struggling to process this unexpected piece of information. He gives a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn. I…you’re telling me I’m married to you?”

His shock is genuine, and for a moment, a bubble of laughter escapes you. It’s that classic Tony Stark reaction—equal parts disbelief and awe, as if he can’t quite believe his good luck.

“Yes,” you say again, and this time, there’s a hint of amusement in your voice. “You managed to convince me somehow.”

He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a lopsided grin that’s both endearing and achingly familiar. “Wow. I must be one hell of a salesman.”

“Oh, you are.” The laughter fades from your voice as you take a step closer, unable to resist the need to be nearer to him, even if he doesn’t remember you right now. “You’re the best.”

For a moment, he studies you, his gaze flickering with something like curiosity, maybe even admiration. It’s a glimmer of the old Tony, the man who made you feel like the only person in the room, no matter the crowd or chaos. But here, with him looking at you as a stranger might, there’s something raw and beautiful about it, too. He’s falling in love with you all over again, right in front of your eyes.

“Well, I guess I should feel lucky,” he murmurs, a faint smile playing on his lips. “If you’re half as amazing as you look, then…yeah. Lucky guy.”

The words make your heart flutter, and despite everything, you feel a warmth spread through you, easing the tightness in your chest. He’s still Tony, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

“Want to know a little about us?” you ask, hoping that maybe, somehow, it will trigger something—some hidden memory or spark of recognition.

He nods, settling back against the pillow. “Please. Enlighten me. I’m curious how a guy like me managed to marry someone like you.”

“Well,” you start, a smile tugging at your lips as you pull up a chair beside him. “For starters, we didn’t exactly get along at first.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Did I say something to offend you?”

“You…may have.” You grin, remembering the banter, the stubborn disagreements, the sparks that seemed to ignite every time you were in a room together. “You were cocky, stubborn, a little arrogant.”

He chuckles. “That sounds about right.”

“But somehow,” you continue, your voice softening, “you managed to break down all my walls. You made me feel like I was the only person who mattered, even if you acted like you were just being yourself.”

His gaze lingers on you, and there’s a warmth there, something cautious but undeniably present. “I’m sorry I don’t remember that.”

“Don’t be.” You place a gentle hand over his, feeling the faint warmth of his skin against yours. It’s a familiar gesture, one you’ve done a thousand times before, but this time, it feels different—new, almost shy. “You’ll remember. And until you do, we’ll make new memories. Starting right now.”

He looks down at your hand on his, and you can see the faintest flush of color in his cheeks. For a man who’s usually so sure of himself, so confident in every move he makes, it’s endearing to see him look almost…nervous.

“So, tell me more about this…our life,” he says, his voice soft, like he’s trying to hold onto the pieces he has left.

“Well,” you say, smiling as you think of the little things that make up your life together. “We spend a lot of time in the lab together, actually. Even if you’re always tinkering, working on some new project, you always have time for me.”

“Do I? Sounds like a good husband.” There’s a touch of pride in his voice, and it makes your heart ache a little—because he doesn’t even know the half of it yet.

“A very good husband,” you murmur, meeting his gaze with all the love you feel for him. “The best.”

And there it is—that flicker in his eyes, like he’s starting to see it, to feel it. It’s as if, for just a moment, he knows you, feels that connection.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “For being here. For…all of this.”

You squeeze his hand gently, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over. “You’re my husband, Tony. I’d do anything for you.”

And as you sit there, hands entwined, you realize that even if he has to fall in love with you all over again, you’ll be right here, waiting.

The drive back from the hospital is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Tony stares out the window, taking in the blur of city lights as you weave through the streets toward your shared home. Occasionally, you catch him glancing at you, his expression somewhere between awe and disbelief, as if he’s still wrapping his head around the idea that you’re his wife, that he’s returning to a life he doesn’t remember but that he somehow…wants.

When you finally pull into the long driveway leading up to your home, his eyebrows shoot up. Stark Tower looms ahead, its sleek, modern design stark against the night sky. The iconic "STARK" sign gleams with familiar grandeur. He lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes, too—something like pride.

“So, this is…our place?” he asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.

You can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. Well, your place, technically. But I’ve definitely made it my own.”

Tony chuckles, the sound low and warm, and you’re reminded of all the times he’s teased you about “taking over” his tower with touches of your personality: the cozy reading nook in his office, the garden on the roof you insisted on installing, even the art pieces scattered throughout the building. And despite his teasing, he’d always seemed proud of how much of yourself you’d poured into his space.

“Well,” he says, stepping out of the car, “if you’re half as great at interior design as you are at, uh, marrying billionaires, I think I’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“Oh, just you wait,” you say with a playful smirk as you lead him inside.

The entryway is a testament to the sleek, modern style Tony’s known for—polished floors, clean lines, an air of sophistication mixed with warmth. But there are little touches here and there that mark it as your home too: framed photos from the missions you’ve tackled together, a throw blanket draped over the couch, even a small shelf of books beside the entrance to the main living area.

Tony follows you, his gaze flitting over each detail with that trademark Stark intensity, taking it all in as if he’s studying a new project. When his eyes land on a photo of the two of you at a beach, he pauses. You remember that day so vividly: you were laughing, caught in a candid moment as he held you close, your hair whipped by the wind.

“Is that…us?” he asks, a softness in his voice that tugs at your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, stepping closer to him. “A couple of years ago. We were on a vacation you forced me to take.”

“I forced you?” he repeats, quirking an eyebrow. “Was I…was I that difficult?”

“Only a little,” you tease, nudging him gently. “You hated the idea of not working for a few days. But we made the best of it.”

His lips curve into a small smile as he stares at the photo a moment longer before turning his gaze back to you. “I look…happy. Really happy.”

“You were,” you say softly. “We both were.”

He swallows, his gaze lingering on you, and for a moment, you can almost feel the weight of all the memories he’s lost. But there’s a warmth in his eyes, a flicker of something that feels like a connection—even if it’s new to him.

You clear your throat and gesture toward the hallway. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest.”

You lead him down the hall, pointing out the various rooms, each one filled with a mix of his tech and your touches: the library with shelves overflowing with both your favorite books, the small lounge you use for watching movies together, and finally, your bedroom.

When you open the door, he stands in the doorway, taking it in. The room is a blend of Tony’s sophisticated taste and your own comfortable style, the soft lighting casting a warm glow over the neatly made bed, the nightstand stacked with a few of Tony’s reading materials, and the little tray of lotions and skincare items you keep on your side.

“This…feels nice,” he murmurs, his gaze sweeping over the room. He takes a step inside, running a hand over the bedspread, almost as if testing its texture. “I don’t know why, but I feel…calm here.”

You smile, moving to stand beside him. “It’s our space. Your favorite spot after a long day, whether you’d admit it or not. You always said it’s the one place that lets you truly relax.”

He chuckles, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Yeah, well, if you say so. I…believe you.”

For a moment, there’s silence, and you can feel the weight of the day settling over both of you. He’s exhausted, and so are you.

“Do you…want to rest?” you ask, realizing he might be overwhelmed with all of this new information.

“Actually, I think I’d like to keep looking around,” he says, a little sheepishly. “I just…don’t want to miss anything. It feels like I’ve lost a huge chunk of my life, and I want to piece it together, however I can.”

You nod, understanding. You feel a pang of sadness but try to hide it. “Well, I’ll be here. We can take it slow. One room at a time.”

Together, you move back down the hallway, stopping in the kitchen next. Tony’s gaze catches on the coffee maker, and he raises his eyebrows with a look of genuine excitement. “Please tell me I still drink coffee.”

You laugh, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Oh, you drink enough coffee to fuel a small army. In fact…” You open a cabinet, revealing an impressive array of coffee beans, grounds, and Tony’s prized espresso machine. “You’re particular about it. You like to experiment.”

He nods, visibly impressed. “I see I have good taste. I’d like to think I’m a genius when it comes to coffee.”

“Among other things,” you reply, grinning as you start to brew a fresh pot, the familiar hum of the machine filling the room.

As the coffee brews, Tony leans against the counter, watching you with that spark of interest you remember so well. But now, it feels new, raw, as if he’s falling for you all over again and doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“So,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes, “you said we didn’t get along at first. How did I change your mind?”

You chuckle, handing him a mug and savoring the warmth as you lean back against the counter beside him. “It wasn’t any one thing. You…surprised me. I kept expecting you to be this arrogant genius with no time for anyone, but then you started showing up at my door with random inventions, making coffee runs at three a.m. with me, and bringing me little gifts from your travels.” You smile, remembering each moment as if it’s engraved in your memory. “You just…wore me down, I guess.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, mulling over your words, and you see the warmth in his expression, a flicker of understanding, even if it’s only a shadow of his former self.

“Well, then,” he says, his tone soft, “I’m glad I wore you down.”

His words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, the kitchen feels smaller, more intimate, filled with a sense of closeness that’s been there since the moment you met but now feels refreshingly new.

Tony shifts his weight, looking suddenly unsure. “So…do I get to sleep in our bed tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling a little as you nod. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As you walk back to the bedroom together, side by side, you feel a quiet sense of peace settle over you. Tony might not remember you—at least not yet—but he’s here, and he’s yours, and somehow, you’ll find a way to rebuild together.

You slip into bed, settling under the covers, and Tony follows suit, lying beside you with a soft sigh. After a moment’s hesitation, he reaches over, his hand brushing against yours beneath the covers. You entwine your fingers with his, and even though he doesn’t remember the countless nights you’ve fallen asleep like this, it feels natural.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, his voice soft.

“Goodnight, Tony,” you murmur back, your heart swelling with hope.

As the city lights outside cast a gentle glow across the room, you lie there, hand in hand, feeling the warmth of him beside you. And for the first time since the accident, you feel a flicker of reassurance.

The days start to blur together in a rhythm that feels both familiar and new. Tony’s memory isn’t coming back all at once, but he’s recovering it in little flashes, bits and pieces of who he used to be, of who you are to each other. And even though some of these memories are fleeting, almost insignificant, they build something solid between you—something that’s real and growing stronger with every passing moment.

It begins with breakfast one morning.

You’re standing at the stove, cooking eggs and listening to Tony talk about his latest gadget idea. He’s been getting back into work, tinkering here and there in the lab, and he always comes out in the morning with some grand plan or concept. It’s one of the things you’ve missed most—his enthusiasm, his endless curiosity, the way he lights up when he talks about creating something new. You smile, flipping the eggs onto plates and setting them on the counter.

“You know, I don’t think I ever realized how much you put up with me,” he says, leaning against the counter with that lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “All my late nights, random ideas, and, uh, probably a few accidental explosions.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes as you hand him his plate. “Oh, trust me, I’ve put up with plenty. But you make it worth it.”

He takes a bite, nodding as though savoring the taste. “You know…this feels familiar,” he says after a moment, frowning slightly. “Mornings like this. I used to sit here and watch you cook, didn’t I?”

“Every morning you didn’t have your face buried in a new project,” you reply softly, watching him carefully.

He pauses, that spark of recognition in his eyes growing, as if he’s trying to hold onto the memory, to make it solid. And then he’s looking at you, really looking at you, with a tenderness that feels almost shy. It’s a vulnerability you rarely see from Tony, and it makes your heart ache in the best way.

“I think I remember something else,” he murmurs, stepping around the counter to stand in front of you. “I remember sitting here and…thinking about how lucky I was.”

Your breath catches as he reaches out, his fingers grazing your cheek, tracing the curve of your jaw. His touch is tentative, almost reverent, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Tony…” you whisper, feeling your pulse quicken.

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss that’s both familiar and electrifying, like he’s rediscovering you for the first time. His hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you closer as his mouth moves against yours, slow and intense, like he’s savoring every second. When he pulls back, his eyes are darker, filled with something that looks like a mix of wonder and awe.

“I don’t remember everything,” he says softly, his voice rough, “but I don’t think I need to. This feels right.”

You smile, threading your fingers through his hair. “It is right,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss him again.

The memory flashes continue over the next few days, each one bringing him closer to the person he used to be. They’re small, fleeting things—a song that triggers a faint memory of a dance in the living room, the scent of his cologne reminding him of the night you first told him you loved him. Each one brings with it a sense of déjà vu, a feeling that tugs at his heart and pulls him closer to you.

One evening, you’re both sitting on the couch, your legs draped over his lap as you watch a movie together. It’s an old favorite, something you’ve watched countless times, and Tony seems to relax into the familiarity of it. His hand absentmindedly traces patterns on your thigh, and you can feel his warmth, his closeness, and it makes you feel grounded, steady.

Suddenly, he chuckles, looking down at your legs. “I remember this. You used to do this all the time. You’d kick off your shoes and practically sprawl across the couch.”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “And you used to pretend to be annoyed, even though you secretly loved it.”

He raises an eyebrow, that playful smirk you know so well tugging at his lips. “Oh, I’m sure I did.”

You shift, leaning closer to him, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, his eyes filled with both affection and curiosity, that makes you feel bold, like you’re rediscovering each other in a way that’s fresh and exhilarating.

“Can I tell you something?” you murmur, your voice soft.

“Anything,” he says, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“When we first met, I thought you were this…impossible genius with no time for anyone,” you confess, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. “But then you’d look at me like this, with this softness, like I was the only person in the world.”

He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Maybe you are.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and before you can respond, his mouth is on yours, capturing you in a kiss that’s anything but shy. It’s slow and deep, his hands sliding up your back as he pulls you into him, your bodies pressed together, fitting perfectly. His kisses are gentle yet intense, each one leaving you breathless, as if he’s trying to make up for all the lost time, all the memories he doesn’t yet have but that you both feel so deeply.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing heavily, hearts racing. He smiles, that teasing glint in his eyes as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why do I feel like I’ve kissed you a million times?” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “Like I can’t get enough?”

“Maybe because you have,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. “And I’ll never get enough of you, either.”

He chuckles, a sound that’s warm and filled with affection as he kisses you again, softer this time, more lingering, like he’s savoring every second. His lips move slowly over yours, his hands gentle as they cradle your face, as if he’s memorizing the feel of you, the way you fit together.

Over the next few days, the memories come more frequently, little fragments of your life that make him pause, that bring a flicker of recognition to his eyes. Sometimes it’s just a look he gives you, a soft smile that feels so familiar it makes your heart ache. Other times, it’s a touch—a hand on your back, a gentle brush of his fingers against yours—that reminds you of all the little ways he’s shown his love over the years.

And every time he remembers something, he falls in love with you a little more.

One night, as you’re both lying in bed, you reach over to turn off the light, but Tony stops you, his hand catching yours. He turns to you, his gaze soft but intense, filled with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away.

“I might not remember everything yet,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing your cheek, “but I know that I love you. I don’t need memories to know that.”

You feel a lump in your throat, a warmth spreading through you that’s both comforting and thrilling. “I love you, too, Tony,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his hand. “No matter what. I always have, and I always will.”

His smile is tender, filled with a gratitude that makes you realize just how lucky you both are, how strong this connection is between you. He leans in, kissing you with a softness that melts away all the uncertainty, all the fear that’s lingered since the accident.

And as you lie there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realize that this isn’t just a return to the life you had before. It’s something new, something deeper and more meaningful, a love that’s growing stronger every day. It’s a love that doesn’t need memories to survive because it’s written into every touch, every glance, every kiss you share.

The morning Tony’s memories come flooding back, it feels both surreal and inevitable. He wakes up beside you, his gaze fixed on the ceiling for a long moment before he turns to look at you, his expression a mixture of wonder, relief, and something deeper—something vulnerable. When he speaks, his voice is low, as if he’s afraid of breaking the spell.

“I remember everything,” he murmurs, his hand finding yours beneath the covers. His thumb traces gentle patterns on your knuckles, as though he’s grounding himself in the reality of the present. “Every detail, every moment. I remember…you.”

You blink away the tears that threaten to spill over, smiling as you reach up to cup his face. “You’re really back,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I missed you.”

He gives a soft laugh, his hand covering yours as he presses his forehead to yours. “You never really lost me, you know? And I… I missed you, too. Even when I didn’t remember all of it, I knew. I knew you were everything to me. I'd always fall for you.”

You fall into his arms, both of you holding each other tightly, like you’re afraid to let go. And in that embrace, you feel the weight of all those lost days lift, leaving only a warmth that radiates between you. He’s here, fully, and the two of you are whole again.

Later, you’re curled up on the couch together, a blanket draped over both of you, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders as you cuddle into his side. You’ve both been talking, recounting memories, laughing at the more amusing fragments that came back to him in flashes. And then, an idea strikes you.

“Tony,” you say, glancing up at him with a mischievous grin, “there’s something you need to see.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh, really? And what might that be?”

You grab your phone from the coffee table, pulling up a series of videos you took during his days without memories. Each one holds moments that, at the time, you’d been scared would be all you had left—little fragments of his affection, of the new ways he showed his love for you while he was rediscovering himself.

“Brace yourself,” you say, hitting play on the first video.

In it, Tony is sitting across from you at the kitchen table, his eyes sleepy and his hair a mess. He’s holding a mug of coffee, and he looks up at you with the softest, most adoring expression, blinking slowly like he can barely believe you’re real. “You’re so pretty,” he says, his voice a murmur, his gaze fixed on you as if you’re the only thing that matters in the entire world. “How did I get so lucky?”

The Tony beside you lets out a surprised laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever looked that…well, cuddly before.”

“Oh, that’s just the beginning,” you say, grinning as you play the next video.

This one shows him lying on the couch, his head in your lap as you’re reading a book. He’s practically burrowed into you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried against your stomach. Every now and then, he looks up at you with these wide, affectionate eyes, and even without memories, he’s the picture of absolute adoration.

“Is that…me?” Tony asks, a touch of disbelief in his voice as he watches himself look up at you like that. “I’m like a…like a giant puppy.”

“Oh, you were,” you laugh, rubbing his arm affectionately. “I have so many videos like this. You’d barely let me out of your sight. I think losing your memories made you even clingier.”

He snorts, shaking his head as he pulls you closer. “Well, can you blame me? I mean, look at you. Not remembering you was bad enough—I guess I was just making sure I didn’t forget you again.”

The next video is of him in bed, lying half-asleep with his arm stretched out, reaching for you. His voice, groggy and low, calls your name softly, and you hear yourself laugh from behind the camera as you step into view. When you do, he pulls you into the bed, wrapping his arms around you like he never wants to let go. He sighs in contentment, pressing his lips to your forehead and murmuring something unintelligible, and even watching it now, you feel that familiar warmth spread through your chest.

Tony, watching beside you, is silent for a long moment, his gaze softened as he watches himself cling to you like that. When the video ends, he turns to you, a tenderness in his expression that takes your breath away.

“I can’t believe I didn’t remember you,” he whispers, his fingers brushing your cheek. “But even when I couldn’t…I needed you.”

You place a hand over his, smiling softly. “I think a part of you did remember, in a way. You were still you—maybe a little cuddlier than usual,” you tease, “but you were still you.”

His lips curve into a playful grin. “So, I was clingy, huh? Was I any good at it?”

“Oh, you were very good at it,” you say, laughter bubbling up. “I mean, I kind of got used to waking up with you practically draped over me. I’m almost going to miss it.”

His grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. “Well, if you liked clingy Tony, I think I can accommodate,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear as he tightens his hold on you.

You giggle, curling your arms around his neck as he presses a series of soft, lingering kisses along your jaw. “Mmm, maybe I did like clingy Tony,” you whisper, your fingers threading through his hair.

He chuckles, his lips trailing down to your neck, his hands running up and down your sides as he nuzzles into you, his warmth enveloping you. “Well then, Mrs. Stark, it looks like you’re in luck.”

His mouth finds yours, and he kisses you deeply, his hands gentle but insistent as he pulls you closer. The kiss is soft and tender, but there’s an intensity to it, a passion that feels even stronger now that he has all his memories back. It’s like he’s making up for lost time, savoring every second, every touch, every shared breath.

When he pulls back, he leans his forehead against yours, his voice a low murmur. “I don’t think I could ever let you go again,” he says, his hands sliding to your waist as he holds you close. “Every second without you felt…wrong, somehow. Now that I know everything, it’s like my whole world is back.”

You smile, brushing your fingers along his jaw as you gaze into his eyes. “Then don’t let go,” you whisper, your heart racing as he closes the small distance between you again, his mouth meeting yours in a kiss that’s both familiar and exhilarating.

soft Tony is just a baby <3 if you liked the story leave a like and a reblog and drop a follow if you want to read more!

[marveldaily]

Avengers: Infinity War // Loki 'Science Fiction'

[bliss-in-the-void]

This is so meta but I can’t help but feel like the main story of Jujutsu Kaisen was Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko’s story. Think about the set-up.

You have Shoko, who has the most important cursed technique in the universe. She can bring people back from the brink of death. Her whole purpose is to heal and support other sorcerers.

You have the anomaly that is Suguru, a Curse Manipulator (one of the most powerful techniques to have) that comes from a non-sorcerer family. He was just born out of the blue with a special-grade technique?! That’s crazy.

And then you have Satoru, who was born with Limitless and the Six Eyes, a feat so rare that he shifted the entire balance of the universe.

I truly believe that they were supposed to complete that Star Plasma mission successfully—you’re telling me the Six Eyes and a Curse Manipulator wasn’t enough to protect the vessel? That’s crazy.

If you think about it, the person who shifted the balance wasn’t Satoru. It was Toji.

He couldn’t use Jujutsu and yet had a Heavenly Restriction so powerful that he was able to easily overpower the two strongest sorcerers of the modern era, resulting in literally every calamity that follows that event.

That whole thing just makes it feel like the events of JJK 0 and the main story following Yuuji are some sort of dark timeline in which the worst-case scenario plays out because of Toji successfully ruining the Star Plasma mission.

That’s why I’m afraid of the ending to this story. To me, it seems like Gege is telling the story of what happens when it all goes wrong.